by Beth Alvarez
“I won’t be mad at you,” he reassured her, sitting down with his own breakfast.
“It’s just a lot to tell,” she said truthfully. “So much has happened in the past few days.”
Emmett took a bite of bacon, chewing in wordless expectance.
Squeezing her eyes closed, she launched into the story and prayed her tongue wouldn’t betray any of the secrets she now held. “When Kade was shot out in the field at the McCullough ranch, the rustler that tried to sneak up on us mentioned a place. I took Kade’s truck and went to find it.” Half truths; as long as she didn’t mention him being there when it happened, there was no reason to doubt her story.
“It was an abandoned ranch to the west. It turned out to be the place the rustlers were moving cattle through. I called the police. They found the ring and busted it up.” She left out the chupacabra, the gunfire and everything to do with du Coudray. It wasn’t important; not to him, anyway. “I . . . there was a reward, Daddy. For ending the rustling ring.”
Startled, Emmett searched her eyes, a slow furrow creasing his brow. “What?”
Felicity blinked back tears, smiling. “It’s enough to fix everything, Daddy. We’ll finally be caught up on the mortgage. We can get the collectors off our backs for Mom’s medical bills.” And though it was good news, she couldn’t help thinking it was only the second best thing to come from her adventure. The memory of Kade’s fangs at her throat sparked in her mind and she suppressed a shiver.
Her father struggled to find words. He, too, blinked against tears. But no words came, and he rounded the table to wrap her in his arms. “Oh, Felicity.”
She laughed, hugging him back and crying into his shoulder. Without a doubt, it was the greatest day she could recall, her heart the fullest it had been since her mother passed.
They celebrated through the afternoon, sharing dreams and ideas until night fell without Kade’s return. After dark, she climbed the stairs to check his room. Only then did she realize all his things were gone.
* * *
Kade couldn’t recall a time he felt so low.
The sun was uncomfortable in his eyes, even wearing the darkest sunglasses he could find. His hat pulled low and his scarf wrapped high sheltered him from daylight, but his skin still crawled with a heated sensation of discomfort.
He’d already thought of turning around a dozen times, each time stopping and reminding himself of what he had to do. No matter how good things were with Felicity, he couldn’t break his rule again. He worked alone, and as long as he had jobs unfinished, she’d put her stubborn self at risk thinking she could help him.
And there were the shadowed thoughts, too. Biting her again had been a mistake, and she’d never know how close she’d come to death when she’d surrendered her throat to him.
Thaddeus had warned him about vampire’s blood, though only in passing. The conversation was a distant memory now, buried somewhere in the first few weeks of his training, right after he’d changed. It did things, the Keeper said; things worse than changing a mortal into a vampire. But he hadn’t had any choice. It was kill du Coudray or watch Felicity die. No matter what the price was in the end, he knew he’d made the right decision.
Felicity would hate him before the day was out. He was sure of that much. After everything he’d done, he wondered that she didn’t hate him already. And no matter what she said, he knew they couldn’t work things out as they were. Their lives were too different; literally night and day. It wasn’t impossible to fix things, but before they could, something had to give.
Right now, driving down the interstate on his way to finish what he’d started, he wondered if it would.
TWENTY-THREE
* * *
“I JUST DON’T know what I did wrong.” Felicity stared at her hands in her lap. She hadn’t looked up at the sound of her father’s footsteps, but she didn’t have to lift her head to know he stood at the foot of the stairs. She felt his presence, the weight of his eyes, the intangible sense of his concern for her.
Five days. Five whole days had passed since she woke alone, and still Kade hadn’t returned.
The clock chimed eleven. The tree in front of her glowed in rainbow lights, ornaments glittering. On the other side of the window, fat snowflakes drifted on the wind. Gertie had sworn they’d see snow before Christmas, and she was right—even if her prediction had waited until the last minute. There was an hour left in Christmas Eve. Right about now, parents all over town would be sneaking presents out of their hiding places and leaving them under the tree for the children to find. She hadn’t bought Kade a gift. She’d thought about it, but only before she’d decided he wasn’t coming back.
She’d reached that conclusion on the third day. Since then, time had dragged.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Felicity.” Emmett padded across the carpet to join her on the couch, though he left a respectful distance between them.
She didn’t reply. The only thing she could think of was her hesitance to change, but Kade had sworn he understood. He hadn’t pressured her in the slightest, reassuring her through all her doubts, but what other reason was there for him to walk away? The lights on the tree blurred and it took her a moment to realize it was tears clouding her eyes. Refusing to let them fall, she blinked them away.
“I didn’t get you any gifts,” she said softly, changing the subject.
“You’re here. You saved us from debt, saved our business and our home. I couldn’t imagine better gifts than those.” Emmett paused. “I’m the one who should apologize. You’ve done so much, and I didn’t even make it to the store to get something for you.”
“We agreed on no gifts anyway,” she reminded him.
Emmett shrugged. “I still planned to have something for you. I had money put away for the tree. I was going to put it toward a new set of pans for you to bake with.”
Laughing, Felicity bowed her head. “Thank you, Daddy.”
He patted her shoulder. “So what now?”
That was the hard question. She hesitated to answer, rubbing the backs of her hands in turn. “I think I’m going to talk to call Ansel Fare after the holiday. See if that storefront is still open on the square.”
“You should,” he replied without hesitation. “Now that we’re back on steady footing, it’s the perfect time. We can afford to take out a business loan to get you started.”
Felicity rubbed her mouth to keep from smiling. She could afford to pay everything out of pocket and have money left over, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. It had seemed like a miracle, checking her bank account balance and seeing the deposit Kade had promised. More than she’d ever expected, enough to keep her from pinching pennies for a long time. Maybe the rest of her life. But her father didn’t need to know about that money, or how she’d come by it.
Now it felt like a parting gift, and she could think of no better way to use it than to set up her bakery and get on with her dreams, with or without the man she’d thought would be a part of them.
“What do you think I should call it?” she asked absently. “I never got that far in planning. I guess I never thought it would really happen.”
“I don’t know.” Emmett chuckled. “I’ve never been good at naming things. All the good names came from your mother. Including yours.”
Tapping her pursed lips with a fingertip, she squinted at the tree until the lights blended together. “Never mind,” she murmured. “I think I’ve got it.”
* * *
Lifting her brush from the window, Felicity swept a stray lock of hair away from her forehead with the back of her arm. Her hands had more paint on them than the glass, but it was done.
The new display cases would arrive in two weeks, the stand mixers and the new pans before that. She looked back at the empty space behind her and grinned.
Ansel Fare had been so eager to lease the space for her bakery that he’d given her the keys the same day she asked, promising to meet her at the Hilltop House to sign
the paperwork. She’d given herself a chance to stand in the empty shop and daydream, but she hadn’t started moving things in until the next day, after she’d signed the lease and paid the deposit and first month’s rent.
On the other side of the window, a handful of friends applauded. Grinning, Felicity crossed an arm over her chest and bowed at the waist.
Her father, Gertie, Nick, Penny, Sam and all the cowboys had all come to see what they considered the first important milestone. The gathering seemed incomplete without Grant, but Felicity didn’t expect they’d see him again; he’d vanished amid the chaos at du Coudray’s ranch, and his belongings still sat untouched in Marshall McCullough’s bunkhouse. Knowing what she did now, Felicity couldn’t think of his absence as a loss.
Her friends shared the hot cider Alberta McCullough had provided while Felicity finished painting the name on the glass.
In her opinion, it was the perfect way to spend the last day of the year.
Dropping her paintbrush into a jar of water on the floor, Felicity hurried outside to join them.
“Wonderful job, girlie!” Gertie cooed, her clapping muffled by her thick gloves.
“It looks great,” Emmett said, offering her a cup of cider from a thermos.
“Thank you,” Felicity murmured, turning to admire her handiwork.
Everyone had laughed at the name, loving what they called a cruel sense of humor, though they only knew half the joke. Felicity sipped her cider, smiling slightly at the golden swirls of lettering on the sparkling glass.
Love Bites Bakery.
* * *
Thaddeus flinched when a rabbit landed on his desk, his face twisting in an expression of disgust Kade found far more amusing than he probably should have.
Scowling, the Keeper picked up the dead animal by its antlers, moving it off his paperwork. “Prey does not belong on my desk.”
“Prey’s on your desk every day,” Kade retorted. “Havin’ it dead on paperwork’s no different.”
“In the future, just call me.” Wiping his fingers on a handkerchief, Thaddeus reached for his pen. “You’ve been at the top of your game since you returned from Texas. I’ll have a look at your file later this evening.”
“Don’t bother. That was the last contract.”
“Is that so?” A gleam lit the elder’s dark eyes. “I’ll see if I can request more.”
Kade pulled his handgun from the holster at his hip.
In the blink of an eye, Thaddeus had shoved himself up from the chair, fangs bared, ready to fight. Kade didn’t give him a chance, tossing the pistol down in the same place he’d thrown the jackalope.
“I said, don’t bother.”
Thaddeus stared at the gun, his fingernails digging into the polished wood of his desk. The cellular phone he’d given Kade followed, clattering across the desktop.
“What is this?” the Keeper demanded.
“Take a guess.” Kade met his eye, impassive. He expected Thaddeus to argue, bracing himself for what would come.
Instead the Keeper’s mouth tightened and he sank back into his chair. He regarded the phone and firearm for a time, his thin lips twisting into a frown.
“I’m done,” Kade said. “I appreciate what you’ve done for me, Thaddeus, but I’m finished now. I did your big jobs and your little ones, I ain’t riskin’ my hide for you anymore.”
“And what will you do, Mr. Colton?” The Keeper raised one thick white brow. “Hunting is what you live for. Your only reason for being.”
That thought had rolled through Kade’s mind a thousand times. He’d changed for the hunt, certain he needed the edge immortality would give him. He’d been right, of course; without the gift Thaddeus had given him, he would have died a more permanent death a long time ago. But in the grand scheme of things, hunting river monsters and antlered rabbits suddenly seemed unimportant. He’d already made his mark, made his fortune, had his adventures. There was nothing else hunting could offer him.
“I’m done,” Kade repeated simply.
The Keeper regarded him in silence for what seemed an eternity. Then he released a long, slow sigh, pushing the gun and phone to the side of his desk. “Your self-control was always remarkable. As was your determination. I never would have imagined that would be your downfall.” He paused, looking up with his pen poised in midair. “You’re the best hunter I ever had the pleasure of working with, Kade.”
Praise never came easily from the sour old vampire. Kade lowered his eyes. “Thank you. I’ve always put a lot of pride in my work.”
“There will be paperwork.”
“Got the best Keeper in the organization to take care of that for me.”
Thaddeus came dangerously close to smiling. “You will need employment. It’s easier to remain undetected as long as you’re a productive member of society.”
Kade nodded. “I got somethin’ in mind. Send my paperwork to this address.” He stepped forward, holding out a folded slip of paper.
The Keeper took it, his forehead creasing as he read what was written inside. “Here?”
“I got a few things to take care of. Until I’m done, that’s the best place to reach me.”
Folding the paper again, Thaddeus tucked it into the breast pocket of his suit. “Are you certain you won’t keep the cellular phone?”
“Positive.” Kade smirked. “I don’t want to leave you with anythin’ that makes it easy to badger me into comin’ back.” Then he sobered. “Not any time soon, at least.”
Thaddeus straightened in his chair, his face growing grave. “If she changes her mind, Colton, you know I’d be happy to . . .”
Kade lifted a finger, silencing him. “If it comes to that, I’ll be the one to do it. You might get another charge, but nobody gets that bond except for me.”
Raising his hands in both acquiescence and defeat, the Keeper nodded.
Turning on his heel, Kade started for the office door.
“Colton.”
Pausing, Kade looked over his shoulder.
Thaddeus met his eye, his severe face softening into compassion. “Best of luck.”
Grinning, Kade touched the brim of his hat. “I’ll be in touch.”
As he slid through the offices, none of the other Keepers or hunters looked his way. Though he thought he’d feel lighter, Kade couldn’t shake feeling like each step was weighted. He gave himself a minute to breathe deep and compose himself when he got to his truck. He’d missed the red pickup, almost as much as he missed his horse. Almost as much as he missed . . .
Shaking his head, he started the engine, pulling his hat low. Leaving the Keeper’s office had been the easy part. It only got harder from here.
By the time he reached Belle Meade, the last rays of the sun clung to the horizon, reaching into the sky like fingers.
It was just after dusk when Kade climbed out of his truck and made his way up the stairs, ringing the doorbell and waiting with his hands in his pockets and his head bowed.
It was halfway through January and his first day off. A new year, the best time to start over. The only way it could have been clearer was if he’d finished on New Year’s Day.
The door creaked open and Kade looked up at the grizzled old man in the doorway, his chest tightening.
A long silence passed between them before Kade found his voice, strangled as it was.
“Hey, Dad.”
Wordlessly, Charles Colton stepped out onto the porch and embraced his son.
TWENTY-FOUR
* * *
THE SNOW FELL again in January. Felicity worried it would hinder the celebration, but when she cut the ribbon across the door for the bakery’s grand opening, dozens of people from Holly Hill and the neighboring communities waited outside.
She smiled for photos until her cheeks ached, ushering people inside, shaking hands and whispering thanks on her way to the counter. Her father and Gertie had volunteered to help her through the grand opening. Their assistance made everything easier, from prep
aring the day’s baked goods to just managing the crowd, and by noon she wondered if she’d be able to manage the bakery all by herself.
Business died down by mid-afternoon and Gertie excused herself with a box of cupcakes and cinnamon rolls, leaving Felicity and Emmett to enjoy a moment to breathe by themselves.
Felicity dropped onto the tall stool beside the counter meant for decorating cakes, heaving a sigh of relief.
“Better than you expected, huh?” Emmett lingered beside the cash register. It wasn’t until then she realized there wasn’t anywhere else to sit.
“A bit. If I’m being honest, I don’t think I want it to be this busy all the time.” She started to stand, but he motioned for her to stay. She settled again, looking around with a smile.
The bakery had drawn a lot of compliments and even more surprise, and she was proud of how the place had come together. It was sleek and modern, the walls painted with black and white vertical stripes. The tall counter bore a black front and white top, and the glass display cases were edged with gold. The back wall of the sales room provided a bright splash of red to set it all off.
Small tables, all of them painted black and covered with white tablecloths, dotted the space on the other side of the displays, the simple bistro chairs around them giving people someplace to sit and sample their treats. Felicity had thought far enough ahead to buy a coffee maker, but she’d forgotten the children; she’d have to install a refrigerator case and provide chilled low-fat and flavored milk, as well. Gertie had rescued her today, fetching juice boxes from the grocer just before the ribbon cutting.
In spite of everything, the busy weeks of putting the place together and the remarkable turnout for the bakery’s first day, she still couldn’t believe it was really hers.
“Do you like it?” Emmett asked.
Felicity grinned, getting back to her feet. “Right now. I suppose time will tell.”
