Authors: Kristen Brockmeyer
I had my hand on the door handle to get out when he barked at me to wait.
"At ease, GI Joe. That's Betty's bike," I snapped back. He muttered a curse as I hopped out and climbed the front steps. Betty was standing in the doorway, Julian just behind her.
"
Hey, guys! What are you doing here? Together?" I gave Chance a grin and a significant look over my shoulder. His face still set, he stepped closer to me.
If they noticed his weird behavior, Julian and Betty gave no indication. Hugs were exchanged. Julian was smiling ear-to-ear, and Betty looked like she was actually blushing. Plus, she had her hair pulled back in a couple of sparkly clips and was wearing a pretty pair of slacks and a
cheerful turquoise blouse. By contrast, Julian was looking more informal than I'd ever seen him, in crisply-pressed jeans, new-looking black boots and a Viva Las Vegas t-shirt, with the iconic Vegas welcome sign on the front. His fedora was missing, but his thinning hair was combed carefully over his scalp.
"
I hope it's okay that we dropped in like this," Betty said. "Jules said you wouldn't mind, and your little friend Breanna let us in to wait."
Jules, huh?
They were on a cutesy nickname basis?
"
No, it's totally fine—it's good to see you! But hasn't Shady Pines put an APB out yet for their favorite martini mixer?"
"
Actually, I've checked out of Shady Pines," Julian replied, chuckling. "Turns out I'm not so incompetent after all. I used some of that money you gave me to get a lawyer and apparently Michigan's got some pretty serious laws to protect elderly folks like me."
"Lucky, you need to get off your feet," Chance growled, finally out of patience with me. "Get in the house."
Betty raised an eyebrow.
"Honeymoon's over, huh?"
"
Long story," I said, heading inside. "But if I don't sit down, my husband's liable to throw me over his Neandertholic shoulder and sit me down himself."
I collapsed on the couch. I
'd never admit it in a million years, but I was badly in need of a nap. "So tell me what's been happening? What have you crazy kids been up to?"
"
Well," Julian said, sitting down in one of the Heywood chairs and pulling Betty down on his lap. "You can consider yourself a bad influence." He took Betty's hand and held it out so that the afternoon sun shining through the window caught the facets of the diamond on her finger and made it sparkle. And no doubt about it, Betty was definitely blushing. Her apple cheeks were glowing. "We got married in Vegas, too. We spent some time with my granddaughter after that, and went to Michigan to get Jules straightened out, but we've been biking around on our honeymoon ever since."
Holy crap.
"
That's… that's—" I couldn't manage any more. I pictured the two of them on Betty's Harley, Julian's arms wrapped around Betty's ample waist, and burst into noisy tears.
Stupid hormones.
After my emotional outburst, Chance ushered me off to our bedroom for a lie-down, refusing to take no for an answer. I felt like a two year-old. But, to my annoyance, I woke up feeling a hundred times better. Except that it was dusk already and my stomach was gnawing on my backbone, having completely forgotten the double cheeseburger I'd thrown at it at lunchtime. The smell of steak hovered in the air, beckoning me like a siren's song, and I stumbled downstairs.
Betty was in the kitchen, kneading dough, while Julian sat at the table frosting a pan of brownies. They both looked up when I came in, and from their concerned expressions, I could tell that Chance had brought them up to speed.
"How are you feeling, chickie?" Julian asked.
"
Fine. There's no reason to treat me like glass, by the way. Chance worries too much." I went to the table, hugged him tightly, and swiped a fingerfull of chocolate icing.
"
Congratulations, if I didn't manage to get that out earlier. I am seriously so happy for you both."
Betty hugged me fiercely and gave me an apologetic look.
"I thought you were crying because we didn't invite you to the wedding. It was kind of unexpected—just Jules and I. And the Elvis preacher, of course. The same one you and Chance had. Priscilla was our witness."
"
No, everything makes me cry these days. But you'd better have pictures," I warned.
Lily came in through the screen door, carrying a plate of corn on the cob, charred husks still on. My stomach growled.
"Hey, Lucky," she beamed, setting it down on the counter. "Congrats on the baby news. Chance is out there barbecuing celebration steaks."
"
Thanks, but don't be surprised if I try to talk you into changing your job description to nanny in the next few months. I'm going to need all the help I can get. And you two," I added, looking at Betty and Julian, "Can be our live in cooks/honorary grandparents. Can I do anything?"
"
Got it covered," Betty rasped, wielding a biscuit cutter with an expert precision that I envied.
"
Brie's still in the hayloft with Louie," Lily offered. "You could check on her for me. Tell her dinner's almost ready?"
"
Sure thing."
I stepped out into the deepening darkness. Chance was standing at the grill,
long fork in hand, staring pensively off toward the field. From where I was standing, I could see that he was wearing his shoulder holster. It made me sad, but grateful, too.
I knew he heard me come out, but he didn
't turn around. Sighing, I padded down the steps and came up behind him, wrapping my arms around his stomach and leaning my head against his warm back. His t-shirt was soft against my cheek.
"
You're not shutting me out again, are you, Chance?"
He was silent for a long moment, but his unoccupied hand stroked mine, knotted at his belly.
"I'm sorry I went cold on you today," he finally said. "You were just bone white, and it scared the shit out of me, Lucky. And then, that note… I called Nate. He's flying out and will be here first thing in the morning. He's not sure what to make of this any more than we are, but he's got an idea he's going to look in to."
Setting the fork down, he unhooked my arms and tu
rned around, linking them again behind his back.
"
I love you," he stated fiercely and kissed me hard enough to make my elbows tingle. "It's like you, and this—" he put his hand on my stomach. "It's like my life is starting now. It's my chance to do things right. To have something real."
"
I know," I said softly.
"
All I ever wanted to do from the time this all started was to keep you safe. But at the end, with Dominick, I couldn't. And I'm afraid I won't be able to now. I can't lose you."
"
You won't. Everything is going to be fine." I wound my arms around his neck and pulled him down to me. He was so tense, frustrated and angry, and I soothed him the best way I knew how. Lightly, I traced his lips with my tongue, nibbling at his bottom one until they parted on a low growl and he kissed me back. His arms tightened around me and I gave him everything I had, poured all the love I had for him. I couldn't hold back the low moan that escaped me when he skimmed his hand up my front to cup one of my heavy, sensitive breasts, brushing his thumb across the peak in a slow caress that should have singed a hole in the gingham-print fabric of my dress.
Behind me, I heard the screen door creak open, and then a muffled
"oops" and a bump as it closed again. I was so caught up that I was beyond caring if we had an audience, but Chance reluctantly pulled away. "We have a houseful," he groaned. "I forgot."
I gave him one last kiss, darting my tongue between his lips teasingly, and he caught it in a sharp nip.
"All right, fine. We'll pick this up later. Man the grill before the meat burns and I'll go get Brie."
I turned to go, and he smacked my ass lightly.
"Love you, Mrs. Atkins."
I put a little switch in my hips and tossed a saucy look back at him, swinging my ponytail cheekily.
"Right back 'atcha." The effect was diminished a little when I stepped in some chicken poop and had to scuff it off on the grass. I heard him laughing behind me.
Ducking into the dimly lit barn, I started down the long center hallway toward the hayloft ladder at the other side. Horsey smells and the scent of dusty hay tickled a sneeze out of me, but I was getting used to it. Equine heads popped out of stalls to nicker as I passed, and I reached out to scratch a few noses. When I reached the opposite end, though, I could hear Tarnation moving restlessly in her stall. She let out a sharp whinny when I approached.
"Hush, girlfriend. It's just me." I said. She kicked the wooden wall with a loud thud in answer. "And good evening to you, too," I muttered to the temperamental mare, starting up the steps that led to the hayloft.
"
Brie," I called out. "Time for dinner."
She didn
't answer, but I heard Louie meow plaintively. I slowed my climb a little, wishing I'd brought a flashlight or turned on the light that lit up the shadowy stairway. Above, though, the setting sun's rays were coming in through the open hayloft doors above, turning the stacks of squares orange.
Louie
's head popped over the edge of the loft, whiskers bristling. "Hey, Chunky Butt, where's Brie?"
Predictably, he didn
't answer, only disappeared again. Probably because I wasn't carrying a Fancy Feast can.
"
Brie," I hollered again, louder in case she was in the back somewhere. "Food!"
She didn
't answer, and I peered through the maze of bales. A narrow alley led through them, and Louie was near the end, watching me expectantly. He mrowed and rubbed his face on something sticking out from between the stacks. I squinted. Shit, it looked like a sneakered foot.
"
What the hell, Brie! Are you stuck?" She could have been climbing the bales and slipped between two piles to get wedged in. I hoped that was all that had happened.
Before I could take more than a step in her direction, there was a rusty screech. From the track overhead,
an enormous hook on the end of a rope came hurtling toward me out of the gloom.
Conscious of the open stairway behind me, I flung myself into the stack to my right. The bales didn't budge, but instead of catching a 20-pound hook to my face, it bounced off my shoulder with bone-jolting impact. I grabbed my shoulder, falling to my knees and swallowing hard, trying not to vomit at the sunburst of pain. I tried to scream for Chance, but I had no air. Nothing came out but a whimper. Below me, Tarnation kicked her heels into the side of her stall again, neighing sharply. At the very least, maybe Chance would come see what was wrong with the horse.
Tears running down my cheeks, I started crawling toward Breanna. My progress was slow, but I had a
lmost reached her when I heard the laugh again. Deep and husky, but not overly crazy sounding unless you listened really close.
"
These old barns can be dangerous. You should be more careful, Lucky."
I ignored the voice and kept going until I got to Breanna. She was in a small space between the rectangles of straw, but she wasn
't stuck. Just tied up and gagged with ripped up pieces of her own pink plaid shirt. She was shivering in just a tank top, cold or maybe in shock. The side of her forehead was swollen, leaking blood from a small cut, and her face was wet with tears. Her eyes were wide with fear, big and dark and pleading.
"
It's okay," I whispered.
Louie climbed between us and settled on her thighs, putting his
chin to Brie's chest and kneading her stomach. I hoped he didn't smother her or claw her by accident. I braced myself with my good arm and levered to my feet.
Turning around,
I looked up at Tanya, standing on top of the straw across the walkway and pointing a serious-looking revolver at my head.
Gone was the beige FBI suit. My first thought, ridiculously, was that she was copying my
vintage style with her wide-legged trousers, and bottle green wrap top. Her blonde hair was a little longer curving across her high cheekbones in a 30's bob. Her Viking-blue eyes glittered feverishly.
"
How's your shoulder, you bitch?" she spat.
"
Kinda hurts," I answered in the understatement of the year. "What are you doing in my barn, Tanya?"
"
Getting ready to watch you die. Climb up here." She indicated the stack next to her with a wave of the gun.
"
Why would you want to kill me?" My brain scrambled frantically for a way to slow her down or get someone's attention. Anything. There wasn't even a freaking pitchfork lying around. What kind of barn was this?