by Bonnie Vanak
Why then, when he thought of Meg leaving, did this tightness in his chest refuse to go away?
Chapter 18
She didn’t sleep in Cooper’s bed that night. Instead, she went to the inn, collected Sophie and returned to the cottage. Meg ate a dinner of canned ravioli and was cleaning up when Nick came to spend the night in the cottage.
He’d told her Cooper wanted to remain with Aimee and Fiona in the hospital.
“Coop asked me to keep an eye on you.” Nick had looked away, the scar on his face turning white. “He doesn’t want you to be alone.”
She went to the guest room and changed into her night wear. Then Meg lay on the bed, unchecked tears rolling down her cheeks.
Aimee would be okay, but the episode had terrified her as much as it terrified Cooper. She had grown to love the little girl as if she were her own sister. And the thought that she’d done something to cause this...
Sophie curled up next to her on the bed, licking her cheeks. Meg smiled through her misery.
“You’re such a good girl, Sophie. My only real friend I can trust.”
She fell asleep, the dog curled up at her feet.
Leaden dawn light peeked past the drawn shades as Meg stirred the next morning. She’d spent a restless night, tossing and turning. Stretching, she thought of Cooper and Aimee.
How could everything have fallen apart so quickly? She and Cooper had grown so close, and then with Aimee’s allergy attack, all that had fallen apart.
She quickly showered and changed into a green cowl-neck sweater and jeans. After studying the sturdy work boots she’d worn for most of her stay, she chose the comfortable sneakers she’d worn hiking yesterday.
Meg went upstairs, but Cooper’s room was empty. In the kitchen in Cooper’s big, bold handwriting, he’d left a note that he was at the inn, and he’d see her at breakfast.
The terseness of the note echoed the hollow ache inside her. She left the cottage, headed for the inn.
Not wanting to wake anyone after the trauma of yesterday, she quietly opened the front door, using the key Fiona had given her. Hearing voices, Meg headed for the kitchen. And then she stopped short.
“Who’s more important to you, Coop? Aimee or this Meg?”
Derek.
Flushing, she started to turn around, but Nick chimed in.
“Meg is on the run from a man who’s aligned with a known Irish mobster. Can you trust her? She may have accidentally put the peanut oil in the cookies, but you’re getting involved with someone whose ex could hurt your family.”
“Or perhaps she changed her mind about the divorce,” Derek told him.
Immobilized, she remained in the dining room, her heart in her throat. The two men had aligned against her.
“I bet she’s worried you and Mom will launch a lawsuit against her company. That could be the real reason she’s here,” Derek warned.
Sweat trickled down her back. No...
“You just don’t know, Coop, but I know you. Family and team come first,” Nick added.
“Your Palm Beach princess is in pretty damn deep, Coop. Best you consult with a lawyer to find a way to cover your ass before all this blows sky high,” Derek chimed in.
“You could be right,” Cooper agreed.
After all this time, she’d come to trust Cooper. Lean on him. She’d let him into her life and her body, bonded with him as they made love.
And yet he still didn’t trust her. He thought she’d poisoned his beloved little sister.
There was only one person she could rely on now—herself.
How many times had she experienced this before? Her ex cutting her off from business, never revealing plans for the company. Her parents and grandfather, trying to control her life, leaving her on the sidelines.
Even patrician and elegant Letticia, too engrossed in the family business, thinking Meg’s duties belonged with civic affairs, society galas and eventually, with producing the next generation of Taylor children.
This time, she couldn’t pretend everything was all right. It hurt way too much. The man she’d confided in, believed in and made love with was loyal to family. Not her.
She’d thought she’d finally met a man who would put her needs above all else. Cooper, the man she’d come to trust with her body and her heart. The man who’d promised to shield her from all harm.
Meg made a show of stomping her feet and then went to the kitchen doorway. As soon as Derek saw her, he nudged Nick and they both fell silent. Roasted coffee beans percolated in the pot on the counter. She inhaled the smells of home and family. They seeped into her bloodstream like a drug.
A drug she did not need.
“Meg. You’re up early. I thought you’d still be sleeping.” Cooper didn’t smile at her. His expression remained stony.
I got lonely in bed without you. “Farm life makes me an early riser. What are you all talking about?”
Derek stood and drained his coffee. “Family business. Coop, I’ll be ready and down in ten.”
His brother nodded at Meg and left.
She joined them at the table. “How is Aimee?”
Cooper’s guarded expression relaxed a little. He stood and fetched a mug for her and filled it with coffee, adding the amount of sugar she liked.
“Good. Mom says she’ll probably be released this morning. I got back a while ago. Spent the night with her and Mom at the hospital.”
Nick glanced at her, his expression neutral. “I’ll move Aimee’s things downstairs, Coop. See you in a few.”
When the other SEAL left, she went to the pantry and hunted through the shelves, and then found a bottle of oil.
Meg plunked it on the counter. “This is what I used for the cookies.”
The label was faded, but readable. Corn oil.
Cooper uncapped it and took a whiff. Then he tasted it. “It’s regular oil. No nuts.”
For some reason, she was loath to mention Jenny’s name. She didn’t know why, but there was something about Jenny. Maybe it was her shyness, but Meg didn’t want anyone pointing fingers at her.
Jenny hadn’t put peanut oil into the cookies any more than Meg had.
His blue gaze was steady as he set the bottle down. “I believe you. I don’t know how the peanuts got into the cookies. I believe you didn’t do it deliberately.”
Maybe that should have pacified her, but instead she felt even worse because she had made the cookies, just as her company had made the vests that caused the death of his other sister.
Aimee could have died, just as Brie had.
“I need fresh air,” she told him, and headed outside.
She’d longed for love, thought she wasn’t worthy of such devotion. And then Cooper with his charming smile and fierce loyalty and protective manner had come into her life. He’d stolen her heart and treated it with exquisite tenderness.
But that was before Aimee’s attack. Even if Cooper didn’t think she did it, others did. Hadn’t she already caused enough grief for this family?
Heart heavy, she went outside to sit on a rocking chair on the porch. The air was chilly and echoed of silence. No loud laughter from Cooper, larger-than-life Cooper. No Fiona with her warm, friendly air or Aimee with her giggles.
For a long while she sat in the rocker, struggling with her emotions. And then the front door opened.
Cooper stepped out onto the porch. “Meg.” He pulled up the collar of his jacket and tugged down the brim of his Stetson. “It’s cold out here. Go back to bed. It’s still early.”
Sleep, when sleep proved elusive? When he wouldn’t be there with her to keep her warm through the night?
“Are you headed back to the hospital now?” she asked.
“We both are.” He glanced at the door as Derek
came outside. Cooper’s brother looked at her and then tugged on his gloves. “I’ll meet you at the truck, Coop.”
Meg kept rocking, the creak of the wood soothing. “Can I come with you to see Aimee?”
“No. We’re stopping there and then I’m driving Derek back to Boston. I have a meeting there. I’ll be back by sundown. Don’t leave the farm.” His voice thickened. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t want anything else to happen.”
“Are you going to see a lawyer?”
Surprise flared on his face. His gaze flickered away. “Yes. It’s for the best to be prepared.”
He dropped a quick kiss on her cheek, but she barely felt it for the aching pain in her heart.
As he turned toward the truck, she fled. He had already left, from the moment she’d overheard him talking in the kitchen.
Putting his needs, and those of his family, before her own.
Refusing to surrender to the tears that threatened, Meg went to the cottage and made her own coffee. She spent the next few hours reading over all the correspondence she’d managed to take from Prescott’s home office, but found no clues. Nothing to tie him to the missing memos or the authorization to sell the defective vests.
Around lunchtime, she heard the horn honk and rushed outside, heading for the inn. The staff was gathered outside, greeting Aimee as she climbed out of her mother’s car. A little pale, she otherwise looked good.
She offered to carry Aimee’s bag into the house, but Hank shouldered it instead. Feeling useless, Meg followed the crowd into the house. Nick had set up the downstairs bedroom for Aimee so she didn’t have to climb the steps. Aimee collapsed into the wing chair by window.
“Aimee, get into bed, you need rest,” her mother chided.
“I’m sick of being in bed.” Aimee pouted. “Can’t I go outside?”
“You’re far too weak.” Fiona shook her head. “Stay inside and rest, and in a couple of hours, we’ll see how you feel.”
The staff wished Aimee well and left. Meg fetched Sophie and deposited her on Aimee’s bed. The girl brightened as the dog licked her face, wagging her tail.
Meg sat on the bed. “Aimee, I am so sorry about the cookies.”
The girl buried her face into the dog’s fur. “It’s okay, Meg. It was an accident.”
An accident I didn’t do.
Then she and Fiona left, closing the bedroom door behind them.
Meg felt awkward, and guilty for the lines of strain on the older woman’s face. “Fiona, I am dreadfully sorry. I don’t know what happened, or how the peanuts got into the cookies. I take full responsibility, and I’d like to pay for the medical bills, once I get settled.”
Fiona gave her a steady look and pushed her hand through her graying hair. “Don’t blame yourself, Meg. It happens. And we’re fine. Thank you, but you have your own needs to worry about. If you’ll excuse me, I’m dead tired. I didn’t sleep at all last night.”
“Can I do anything?”
Fiona squeezed her arm. “We’ll be fine.”
We’ll be fine. She was not part of that particular “we.” Meg went to the cottage’s home office and powered up her laptop at the desk. She spent a couple of hours searching through the company files, but found nothing. All the emails had been deleted.
The only solution now was to contact the FBI and tell them what she knew. Finding the memos seemed to be a lost cause. Randall said they were close to her heart, but that cryptic clue proved useless.
She’d leave Sophie here, although the thought killed her, but it was for the best.
Aimee loved the dog and would take excellent care of Sophie. With a heavy heart, she clicked onto her personal email account and began surfing through the dozens of emails.
One caught her eye. It was from Bert Baxter, the attorney who had been absent the day she and Cooper went to Boston. He wanted to meet with her at her grandmother’s farmhouse to go over something urgent—her grandmother’s will.
Trying not to get her hopes up, she read the email. Bert claimed he had duplicates of the memos Prescott had written. Randall had given him the papers for safekeeping. He gave a phone number for her to call.
I can’t risk meeting you at the office, Meg. Not after what happened to Randall. I’m sure that Prescott had something to do with his death. I’m in hiding from your ex and I need $50,000.
Meg sat back, ruminating over the idea. The farmhouse was old, run-down and lacked electricity. It made a perfect, isolated spot for a clandestine meeting. Prescott must really be in trouble to threaten the lawyer.
She called the lawyer. The phone went to voice mail.
Meg texted him. Talk to me, Bert! Where is Prescott now?
A message popped up on her screen. Not sure. Have memos.
A minute later, an image appeared on her cell phone. It showed the official company letterhead for Combat Gear Inc. and was a memo from Prescott to Randall with the subject line “Shipment of new body armor, ASAP.”
The rest of the memo was missing.
You’ll get the documents and flash drive when I get the money. Please Meg, I’m desperate. Come alone. Can’t risk anyone else seeing me, he typed.
She tried responding, but there was no reply.
Meeting him alone wasn’t her first choice, as much as she trusted him.
Meg turned off the computer and went searching for Nick.
The fresh scent of hay and horses greeted her as she entered the barn. Cooper’s best friend stood by a saddle, oiling the leather. Head bent, face hidden by the brown Stetson he wore, the man didn’t even glance up.
“Meg.”
Surprised, she stepped back. “How did you know it was me?”
“Light tread, smell of your perfume. And everyone else is at the inn.” Nick raised his head. The scar on his cheek flared against his ruddy color. He’d be movie-star handsome but for that scar. “What’s up?”
“I need to borrow your truck.”
His guarded expression turned blank. “No.”
“I have to run an errand.”
Nick dropped the cloth he used to oil the saddle leather. “Then I’ll take you.”
“I can drive myself, but I don’t have a car. Mine’s dead, Nick.”
“No.”
“Then drive me to town where I can get a rental.”
The man didn’t budge. Didn’t even blink. Rock steady. “No. Coop asked me to watch over everyone while he’s gone. That includes you. When my best bud asks for a favor, I do it. Coop’s family is my family. The only real family I’ve had since my old man kicked me out when I was sixteen. I’d do anything for him.”
“You’re as stubborn as he is,” she snapped.
Nick pushed up the brim of his hat and studied her with his cool, dark gaze. “Yeah, I am. And if Coop wanted me to tie you up and lock you in that cottage to keep you from running off, I would. So stay put.”
Meg turned on her heels and stormed out of the barn.
Nick was her keeper. Not to shield her, but to prevent her from going anywhere. Meg thought fast. She needed wheels, and her car was dead. Or so Cooper had told her.
A convenient way of trapping her here on the farm with him? Prevent her from leaving until he could hire a lawyer to protect himself?
It didn’t matter. Cooper was out of the equation now. She had to meet Bert, and Nick already stated that his loyalty, and his purpose here, remained with Cooper’s family.
Not her.
He wouldn’t drive her to Gran’s farm.
She walked to the pasture and gazed out at the horses peacefully cropping grass. A hollow ache filled her chest, knowing Betsy wasn’t among them. The pasture seemed emptier today without her.
A door slammed. Aimee trudged down the steps of the inn and joined h
er at the fence, putting one booted heel on the lowest rung.
“I thought you were supposed to be in bed.”
“Mom said I could come outside. I was going to watch Nick clean the tack. I’m so tired of being stuck in bed.”
Meg felt another tug of guilt. Cooper already lost one sister. He could not lose another. That, more than anything, nudged her into action. She would leave today. Go to her grandmother’s farm and meet Bert. No one else could help her clear up this mess.
You’re better off alone than relying on others.
Aimee and her family deserved justice for Brie’s death. Bert had information she needed to prove Prescott knew about the defects in the body armor. That information would lead to her ex’s arrest. She had the cash he desperately needed.
Now all she needed was a distraction. And a vehicle.
As if on cue, Adela trotted over to the fence, pushed her nose over the railing. Aimee giggled as the horse playfully butted her.
“She likes you.”
“Every day after school I visit with her and feed her carrots.” Aimee stroked the mare’s nose. “Cooper says she’s almost ready to be ridden. He hitched her to the carriage the other day and she did fine. Wish we could do it again.”
“Ask Hank to hitch Adela to the carriage.”
“Mom won’t let me go by myself. And Nick says he doesn’t want me or Mom to leave the grounds.” Aimee sighed and stroked Adela’s nose.
Perfect opportunity. “So take Nick and your mom for a little carriage ride. Test Adela’s wings, so to speak. And if you ask nicely, he’d probably let you hold the reins, see how Adela handles. Your mom will be right there if anything happens.”
Aimee brightened. “And you can come, too, Meg.”
“The carriage would be a little crowded with the four of us, honey,” she told her. “And this should be a special time for you and your mom. For family.”
“You’re our family, Meg.”
A lump clogged her throat at the simple declaration. No, I’m not, and that much is clear. “Go on, ask your mom.”
Thirty minutes later, Nick, Aimee and Fiona headed in the white carriage down to the fields by the river, Adela’s hooves clopping on the dirt road. Meg jingled the keys in her hand and headed for the sedan Fiona had told her yesterday to feel free to borrow at any time.
