by Donna Alward
The side door opened and Maggie appeared, completely dressed, pulling her hair back into a sensible ponytail.
When she looked up at him, his heart gave a solid thump. Where had that come from? It was difficult enough being here under the present circumstances. Attraction, kissing…they weren’t on the agenda. He couldn’t afford to be distracted. And she certainly wouldn’t understand if she found out the truth. He offered his best, polite-only smile.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning,” he answered back. Silence fell, awkward. So the kiss wasn’t forgotten, nor forgiven. The smile faded from his face. “I started the coffee. I hope that’s all right.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t up to see to it.”
Great. Now they were speaking—and standing—like wooden statues.
“Maggie, I am sorry about last night. I was out of line. Your business is yours. I had no right to pry.”
He sensed her relief as the clouds cleared from her eyes. “Thank you, I appreciate that.” She offered a small smile and he watched her go to the cupboard and dig out ingredients. Perhaps his greatest transgression hadn’t been the kiss then, but the intimate questions.
“I like you, Nate. You’re a nice guy.” He winced. A nice guy? Hardly. Her words were hollow as she spoke from within the cabinet. “It’s understandable that things…progressed, I suppose. But I’m not comfortable with it. It can’t happen again.”
“I know that.”
She turned around, flour bin in hand, her smile a little easier. “I’m glad. And I hope you like pancakes.”
She couldn’t know. Couldn’t possibly know how much he wanted to tell her everything. To tell her why he was really there, how it would help her, and Jen. But he couldn’t. It was what it was. It was pancakes and pleasantries and half-truths.
“Pancakes are good.” He thought of the day ahead. “With a couple of eggs would be even better.”
“Eggs I can do. How do you like them?”
“However you fix them will be fine.” He offered her the first truly genuine smile of the day. “I’m used to eating them in all forms, believe me.”
She beat the batter in the bowl as the griddle heated. “I suppose you have, with your past history. What’s your favorite?”
He grinned at her back. “Over easy.”
“Then that’s what you’ll have. What are your plans for the rest of the day?”
The tension had dispelled with apologies and talks of breakfast. “The temperature’s gone up a bit, so I thought I’d give those snowshoes a workout.” He went to the counter and took the plates and cutlery she was laying out as the first pancakes sizzled on the pan. “I’ve been two days without physical activity. Add that with home cooking…”
He put the plates at the kitchen table, turning back as she put the pancakes on the warming tray and cracked eggs into a fry pan.
“There’s syrup and juice in the fridge,” she called out, pouring two more perfectly round circles on the greased griddle.
It was something he missed, more than he’d realized. Everyday chatter over meal preparations, having someone to sit with at the table. Now it only happened when he was home in Philadelphia for holidays, with his brother and sisters around. Mom cooked for everyone, and ribbing and teasing were the order of the day. He was surprised to find it so far away from his ordinary life.
When the eggs were done, she filled his plate. “Sit down, Nate, I’ll bring you some coffee.”
The pancakes were light and fluffy and he poured syrup—real maple syrup, not the table version—over the top. Two eggs, done to fragile perfection, sat alongside. He’d heard before that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. As his own rumbled, he thought that just might be true.
“Hey, Maggie?”
“Hmmm?”
“You wouldn’t happen to have a thermos, would you? I’d love to take some coffee along this morning.”
“I’ve got one around here somewhere.”
She took her place across from him. “How long are you planning on being out?”
“Most of the day, I think.”
“Then you’ll need a lunch.”
“You don’t have to…”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s all part of the ‘extras’ I quoted your boss.”
The pancakes went dry in his mouth. Of course. The tentative friendship they’d forged was punctuated with reminders that he was a client. It was as she’d said all along. This was her job. She was being paid to see to his needs. Food and comfortable shelter.
“Thank you, then.”
He sliced through his pancake. He’d asked for the coffee, but had planned on a few protein bars keeping him going throughout the day. If the USMS was footing the bill, there was no reason for him not to take the lunch. Maggie had reverted to her pleasant, professional self. It was like the emotions of yesterday hadn’t happened. It was for the best.
He pushed out his chair. “Thanks for breakfast. I’ll go upstairs and get my pack.”
In his room he reconsidered his clothing and stripped off his cotton shirt, putting his bulletproof vest beneath it. He wasn’t anticipating any trouble, but there was no harm in being cautious. Taking care, an ounce of prevention and all that. He checked his pack one last time and went back downstairs.
“Your lunch.”
Maggie appeared in the foyer with an insulated pack and a silver thermos. “Sandwiches and fruit. And a slice of the cake you missed last night. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s perfect.” He took them from her and tucked them carefully into his bag, withdrawing his GPS at the same time and tucking it in his parka.
“Are you sure you know where you’re going?”
He nodded. “I have a map of the roads right here.” He held up the unit. “As long as I stay within the grid, there’s no way I’ll get lost.”
“I’ll see you at dinner then.”
He pulled his toque over his ears. “Yes, ma’am.”
Outside, he squinted in the sunlight and put on his sunglasses. He strapped on the snowshoes bare-handed and pulled on his gloves. It was cold, but not the frigid bitterness of yesterday.
He started off over the lawn, his gait gaining rhythm as he caught his stride. According to his information, a little over two miles southwest from here he could set up, dig in and enjoy more of her coffee as he watched. And waited.
CHAPTER SIX
MAGGIE watched him go, heaving a sigh of relief when he crossed through the grove of trees at the edge of her property. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, willing her body to relax.
This morning had been nothing more than an acting job, and one she wasn’t sure she could keep up.
His apology had gone a long way, but as soon as she’d seen him standing there, looking large and dangerous and undeniably sexy, she’d wanted nothing more than to kiss him again and see if it had really been as good as she remembered.
Something had changed. At first it had been a simple appreciation for a good-looking man, full stop. The last person she’d ever be interested in was someone in law enforcement. Maybe the problem was that he wasn’t here in any official capacity. He didn’t wear a uniform, or a badge, or carry a weapon. It made it easy to forget. Until something intruded to remind her. Like seeing him with Grant Simms. Or the way he questioned her last night.
And then she forgot all over again when he kissed her and turned her knees to jelly.
She went back to the kitchen and began to tidy the mess. Jen had put the idea in her head, but it hadn’t taken much to keep it there. And now Jen was gone and Nate wasn’t and it wasn’t right that she should have such feelings. Maybe she’d been wrong not to date all this time, because it felt suspiciously like slaking a thirst. Nate was younger and energetic and she found that irresistible. And it was foolish to think she could relive her youth through a man who was just passing through.
This morning was a new day and she’d awakened knowing that keeping distance from N
ate was the best thing for everyone. The emotional pitch from yesterday had dissipated and she was left with a clearer head. Nate was leaving within a few weeks and she couldn’t get attached to him. Anything that happened between them was temporary. They both knew it, and also knew further episodes like last night’s would be pointless. After that kiss…even flirting was a dimension best left unexplored. These weeks at Mountain Haven weren’t real. What was real was his life back in the States, the one where he was a marshal who spent his days apprehending criminals.
She spent the morning cleaning, discovering with great interest that Nate was a neat lodger. He’d already made up his bed, and his laptop was closed, the mouse pad and cordless mouse sitting on top of the cover. There were no clothes laying about. In fact, except for the laptop on the desk, she could hardly tell anyone was even staying in the room.
For some odd reason, she didn’t find that knowledge very comforting.
She curled up with a book in the afternoon. The sun sliding through the south facing window of her personal “parlor” warmed her, making her drowsy. She hadn’t slept until nearly 2:00 a.m., and after the emotional roller coaster of yesterday, the six-plus hours she did get hadn’t seemed to have alleviated all her exhaustion.
When she woke, it was after four, dinner wasn’t started and Nate wasn’t back, despite the darkening shadows of fading daylight. She’d been dreaming, odd dreams with Nate and Jen and Grant. Nothing that made sense. Jen, in handcuffs, with Nate holding her wrists. Grant coming forward and pinning some sort of medal on Nate’s chest.
She stood up, rolling her shoulders and dismissing it. It was silly, that was all. She could puzzle it out easy enough. It was worrying that Nate would find out about Jen, and after seeing Grant and saying goodbye yesterday, it was probably natural.
A niggle of concern skittered down her arms as she realized another hour and he’d be out of daylight. Where could he have gone that would have taken him all day? He had to be exhausted. Had he gotten lost despite his assurances to the contrary?
He’d definitely cooled off when she’d mentioned his boss, too. Knowing she was behind schedule, she put chicken breasts in the microwave to thaw, the sound of the appliance filling the empty house. He hadn’t appreciated the work reminder. As soon as she’d brought up the fact that his bill was paid, he’d gone cold and distant. She wondered why that was. Wondered why he’d chosen to come here, of all places. What had forced him to take a leave of absence?
As she kept her hands busy, her mind kept pace. She could understand the leave being paid, but it still didn’t quite sit right that his vacation was being paid by the Marshal Service. Not if it were a personal trip.
The sound of his boots on the porch coincided with a sudden thought. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before.
The bill, the location, his contact with Constable Simms.
He was here on a job. It was the only thing that made sense, and an icy spear shot through her body as the door opened.
He stomped inside, cheeks flushed and boots in hand, putting them on the mat so that no snow fell on her floor.
“Sorry I’m late.”
Maggie didn’t know what to say. She was still reeling from the possibility that had zoomed through her head. What if he had been lying to her all along? What had he really been doing today? How was he connected to the very same constable responsible for Jen’s arrest?
And how in the world did she go about getting the truth? Did she even want to know? Really? She took a step backward.
“Maggie, are you okay?” He was across the foyer and in the hall in a flash. “Is it Jen?”
Oh Lord. She was horrible at poker faces. She’d really have to do better, because if her suspicions were correct, he was a heck of a player.
“No, Jen’s fine. I fell asleep this afternoon and I think I’m still waking up.” She gave a light laugh, then frowned when it came out with a false ring.
“I’m going to go change. Fell down a few times and got wet.” He started for the stairs.
“Nate?”
He paused with his hand on the banister.
The words she wanted didn’t come. She wasn’t sure she was wily enough to trick him into answering, and was afraid of asking point-blank. What if he were here on a job? Would it change anything? Certainly not between them. There was no them.
“Nate, I…”
His fingers gripped the railing tighter and she closed her eyes briefly, taking a fortifying breath.
“I had a lot of time to think today and I was wondering what happened that made you need a leave of absence.”
She blurted it out in one rapid sentence before she could think of taking it back.
“Well. That’s blunt.”
His eyes cooled as he pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to talk about it. Either that or he was hiding something. Whatever the reason, she found she suddenly wanted to hear the answer very much.
“Perhaps my reasons are private.” He turned to go back up the stairs but she persisted.
“But the Service is paying all your expenses, and the first time you go into town I find you talking to local authorities.”
Nate stared at her. She was way too close to hitting on the truth. Yesterday he’d thought maybe she’d ask questions after seeing him with Grant, but he realized now she’d merely been wrapped up with Jen. Now that she’d had time to think, not everything added up nice and neat. The way she was looking at him now, it was as though she knew. But on the off-chance she didn’t, he kept his expression carefully neutral.
He took his hand off of the banister and stepped off the landing, putting less distance between them. He remembered how she’d felt against him last night. Had thought about it a lot today when the job got boring. There was a chance, a slim one, that he could divert her now.
“You want to know why I had to take time off, is that it?” He made sure he worded it carefully—the reason for his leave, not the reason for being at Mountain Haven. He didn’t want to have to out-and-out lie again. He’d rather angle the truth.
Even he knew it was a flimsy distinction.
“I…I do.” She folded her hands in front of her. “I know I’m prying. And I told myself I wasn’t going to ask. But I’m asking anyway.”
“Funny. I asked you about your life last night and you closed up tighter than a clam.” He’d been tempted to tell her the truth earlier this morning, seeing her warm from her bed, remembering how she’d felt in his arms last night. Thankfully he’d been smart enough not to. Because he was beginning to get the picture that she didn’t like cops. First the way she acted around Grant yesterday and the cold way she was looking at him now. He let his gaze drop to her lips. “At least at first.”
She blushed at the innuendo but persisted. “I know. But you’re a guest in my house.”
“And when I arrived, you assured me that privacy for your guests was of the utmost importance.”
Perhaps if he pushed the topic off track enough she’d take the bait and move on.
“Perhaps concern for my own safety trumps that.”
Dear God, what had run through her mind today? He wondered briefly if she’d gone through his things, but to ask would only confirm her suspicions and somehow he knew she wouldn’t have done that. No, she’d be honest and ask like she was doing right now. And he had no idea what to give her for an answer.
“Where did you go today, Nate?”
She wasn’t going to let it go. And he knew the only way to appease her was to give her the one story he was allowed to give. Even if he absolutely hated retelling it.
“All right. Let me get changed into dry clothes and I promise I’ll tell you.”
He jogged up the stairs, avoiding her probing gaze. He had to get out of his gear first. The last thing he needed was for Maggie to discover there was more than skin beneath his street clothes.
When he came back down, she was emptying dishes out of the dishwasher.
“Your th
ings,” he said quietly, holding out the thermos and bag.
“Thank you.”
She put them down and simply waited, her eyes pinning him to the spot.
“Is this about yesterday, Maggie? Because if it is, we can keep this business only. I admitted I crossed a line. We can stop this right here.”
Her cheeks flushed slightly. “It’s that bad, then. Bad enough you’d try changing the subject a hundred times before talking about it.” She turned back to her dirty dishes.
She had him to rights there. There was no pleasure rehashing the past. He’d failed, and it ate at him. Almost as much as being forced to go on leave. He didn’t need vacation. He needed to focus.
If he didn’t feel the strong need to protect her so much, he’d come out with the truth and be done with it. He hated lies.
“It was a month ago.” The words sounded strangled to his ears so he cleared his throat and started again. “It was a month ago and a case of bad intel. We were on assignment. My team. To bring in a sex offender. We knew he had firearms on the premises…that much was correct. So we were…armed accordingly.”
He paused and swallowed. How much should he tell her? Enough to appease her, he supposed. And not so much as to give away his reason for being there. Maggie closed the dishwasher door and gave him her full attention. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans.
“The plan was to go in after him. When we gather information, it’s pretty complete, so we can make the best tactical plan possible. It was all organized, everyone had their job. Only somehow he must have known we were coming. I don’t know whether he was tipped or saw us or what, but he met us at the door.”
He looked at her briefly. She couldn’t know how hard this was for him, to admit his worst moment. As he faced her, the images came back. The ones that had forced his break from work to begin with. Sounds of gunfire, everything moving in slow motion when in reality it all went down in a matter of seconds. The prolonged moment when he saw the results, the picture branded on his memory.
