A Shadow on the Ground (29 page)

Ethan steadied the gun. “Your boyfriend doesn't know what's going on either.”

Morgan snorted. “He's not my boyfriend. If he were the last man on earth, he would not be my boyfriend. If he were the last living, breathing man walking upright in the universe, he would not be—”

“I think he gets the picture,” Gage said. “And for the record, she’s not my girlfriend either. My girlfriend is short and cheerful and...blond.”

“I don't believe either of you,” Ethan said.

“By the way,” Gage said, “where's Jeremy? Still roaming the countryside? I can never get that boy to come home, even when it’s raining.” He tried to control the fear his voice. The only way he could get the upper hand was to follow Morgan’s lead and keep his emotions in check.

Morgan’s eyes cut to him, then back to Ethan. “He was scared. I guess he went up Pip's Hill and doubled back to the orchard. Don’t worry, he’ll find his way home. He got that hiking merit badge in Scouts last year, remember?”

Okay
, Gage thought.
Jeremy is not a Boy Scout; she's talking in code.
Did she find him? Is that what she meant?
He stared at her, willing her to understand he needed more information.
Please, Morgan. I know you hate me. But let me know my boy's okay.

“Jeremy's a great kid,” she said, still watching Ethan. “He's small for his age, but he's smart. And wherever he is, I'm sure he's fine.” She looked at Gage and held his gaze for a long moment. “He's just fine.”

Relief washed over Gage. This time he could not mistake what she meant. Jeremy was fine. She had told him his son was fine.

“Why do you care so much about this man’s kid?” Ethan snarled. “You said you didn't want kids.”

“I said I couldn't have kids. I never said I didn't want them.”

“Bullshit!” Ethan shook his head vigorously. “You'll say anything with him in the room.”

“That's not true,” Morgan said.

“Yes, it is.” Ethan’s hair fell across his wide forehead in long, unwashed strings. His pale white-blue eyes stared at Morgan like a drugged out gallery owner Gage had had under surveillance once. He didn't think drugs were Ethan's problem. Ethan's problem was he was bat shit crazy. And obsessed with the woman Gage loved.

Gage turned his head. Pain ignited behind his eyes. He held his arms rigid and gripped the armrests, determined to stay conscious and concentrate. Passing out was not an option.

If he could get Ethan to move to the left, so if Ethan fired the gun, the bullet would go past Gage’s head instead of through it, he might have a chance to subdue him. He didn't think Ethan would shoot Morgan. Not as much as he cared for her. But Gage couldn’t risk taking that chance. Not when someone's mind was as far gone as this dude's.

Every plan Gage came up with had too many risks. At best, the situation was uncertain and volatile. At worst, he and Morgan could be blown across the room into next week.

Gage lifted his head off the back of the chair. He tried to ignore the wet oozing behind his left ear and the sledgehammer pounding the back of his eyes every time he blinked. His stomach roiled with cheese grits and ribs. He swallowed the bile at the back of his throat. Vomiting was not an option, either. If he moved fast enough, he might be able to position himself between Ethan and Morgan. As long as he could get there before the gun went off.

There was always a catch.

Ethan stared at her. “You want him. And if you say you don’t, you’re lying.”

“I don’t lie,” Morgan said.

Ethan circled the room and stood behind Gage. The cold muzzle of the gun touched the back of Gage’s neck. “Well, you’re lying now. You're pretending you're not together so I won't kill him. But you
are
together. I saw you tonight at Hog Heaven. You couldn’t keep your hands off him.”

“You were there?” Her blue eyes widened in disbelief. “You followed us?”

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Ethan sneered. “The way you act around his kid. You wish his kid was your kid, because you can’t have any of your own.” He took a shaky step toward her. “So, stop lying.”

Morgan swallowed a gasp. Her back stiffened. Her fingers skimmed across the needlepoint seat cushion, then clutched the edge of the piano bench until her knuckles turned white. Sorrow settled in her eyes. Gage had never seen her look so sad, and he wanted to gather her in his arms and make it disappear. He worried that by spilling the beans she couldn’t have children, Ethan had hit a nerve so profound, she might fall apart. But instead, she lifted her chin and looked Ethan straight in the eye. When she spoke, the sudden appearance of her soft East Tennessee accent betrayed the blow she had been dealt. “Ethan, honey, you've been under a lot of stress since your father passed. But if somethin’ else is botherin’ you, then you need to let it all out and tell me what’s wrong. We're buddies, remember?”

“I don't want to be your buddy. Don’t you understand? I want to be your—” Ethan’s face crumpled. “You used to love
me
, Morgan. Why don't you love me anymore?”

“I do love you. You’re one of the dearest, sweetest people I know.”

“Really?” Ethan said.

“Well, how dear,” Gage said. “And how sweet. But I’m not sure how far that sentiment is gonna fly, once he shoots me in the face.”

****

Morgan held on to the piano bench as if it were her salvation.

Her eyes followed Ethan like a cornered cat. His gaze wandered to the mirror above the dining room sideboard. He scrutinized himself, then frowned, as if he recognized the man holding the gun but couldn’t quite put a name to the face. She’d stopped trying to talk to him. He didn’t want to talk to her. He wanted to get back at her.

Like Gage had predicted, it had all come back to bite her on the ass.

In the past, Morgan had relied on Ethan’s friendship. He’d always come through for her, never judged her mistakes, never let her down. He’d been a good friend, even though she’d taken him for granted. He’d hinted at his feelings, but she’d ignored them. Because as long as she ignored them, she didn’t have to face the fact that if she rejected him, he would not want her in his life. She’d been too selfish to let him go. Another mistake she was sorry for. It had been cruel to let him believe they might end up together someday when she knew in her heart that would never happen.

And now, she could only pray that he loved her enough not to kill them all.

She glanced at Gage.

His steely gaze scanned the room. The knot in his jaw moved back and forth. She could almost see the wheels turning behind his eyes, trying to anticipate Ethan's next move. His hands held onto the edge of the chair, the muscles tense and ready to catapult him across the room. He looked strong and formidable, but behind his head, an amoeba shaped bloodstain had spread across the blue slipcover, and when he turned his head to look at her, his face couldn’t hide the pain.

She steered her gaze away from Gage and focused on Ethan.

“Ethan, please,” she begged. “You and Sean have always been friends. He's lost a lot of blood. Please let me call an ambulance and get him some help. He's my brother.”

Ethan laughed. “And you would do anything for your brother, right?” He shook his head. “Jesus, Morgan, you hate this farm. You
loathe
it. But when your brother asked you to stay, you stayed. No questions asked. See, I knew if Sean thought the farm was going under, he'd talk you into staying. Because you’re the strong one, and that’s what you do. When has your brother, or any of your family, been able to do anything without your help?”

Morgan stared at him. “What do you mean Sean thought the farm was going under?”

“Good question,” Gage said. “And I think I’ve got the answer. Ethan is the one who cooked the books, only in reverse. He made it look like the orchard was in financial trouble because he had a pretty good idea that Sean would convince you to stay and help get it back on its feet.” He looked at Ethan. “Am I on the right track?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ethan said.

“How could you do this?” Morgan said. “Sean’s been working sixteen hour days trying to save the orchard. He and your father did everything they could think of, called in every favor my grandfather had. And it was all a sham?”

“I wouldn't have let it go on forever,” Ethan said. “I wanted to buy some time until I could convince you this is where you belong. Here. With me. We were starting to get close again. You felt it, too. I know you did. Until this...this
jerk
showed up with his kid. I tried to scare him away by shooting out his windshield, but the godammed jerk wouldn’t leave.”

Morgan crossed her arms. “Yes, I think the word
jerk
is a very apt description.”

“I tried to tell you tonight why I came here,” Gage said. “At the restaurant. But then we started dancing, and as the man waving the gun said, you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

“Oh, please,” she said. “It was the other way round, and you know it. Don’t blame me because you didn’t have the balls to tell me you had a hidden agenda.
God
, I should have known better than to trust you. But you have this infuriating habit of showing up at the exact moment I need someone. I should have gone on pretending I didn’t remember you. And then, you made me believe you cared about me. ‘Oh, I'll help you, Morgan. I'll get your brother a lawyer. Never mind that I came here to steal the flag that could pay for that lawyer.’”

Gage leaned back. “This may not be the best time to point out that if you cared as much about your brother as you say you do, the sale of that flag could have sustained the orchard.”

She glared at him. “That's why you came back that night. Not to ask a favor for your son. Not to see me. But to steal the flag. You’d heard Sean was in jail. You thought I'd be at the sheriff station with him. You expected the house to be empty.”

“I came back for Jeremy’s sake. And because I wanted to see you.” Gage pressed his hand against his head. “I needed to know you were real.”

“I should have kicked you to the curb the day you got here. But I wanted so desperately to believe you.”

“You
can
believe me. The moment I saw you again, I knew I could never take anything from you whether you stole it or not. Didn't I tell you to take the flag to the bank where it would be safe? Didn't I let Jeremy find you a buyer for it? Didn't I—”

“Didn’t you what? Show up after twelve years and expect me to fall in love with you again? In all those years, did you ever look for me?”

“No, but—”

“You’re a private investigator, for Christ’s sake. And you never even looked for me.”

Ethan slammed his fist against the upright piano.
“Shut up!”
he cried. Vibrating piano keys chimed beneath the mahogany lid. “Hasn’t anybody noticed I'm holding a gun on you?” He looked at Gage. “So, you’re the one.”

“The one?” Gage asked.

“The one who got her pregnant then dumped her. The one who broke her heart and screwed her head up for the rest of us.”

Gage stared at Morgan. “You were pregnant?

Morgan nodded slowly.

“I didn't know,” he said hoarsely. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“What was I supposed to do? Show up on your doorstep holding a baby, in the snow, like the upstairs maid in a Victorian novel? You didn’t want me, remember?”

“But I did want you,” Gage said. “You’re all I’ve
ever
wanted. At twenty-two, I wasn’t strong enough to fight my father and Bert. I was too naïve to realize I could have been a good father to Jeremy without marrying his mother. I wanted to leave Suzanne as soon as Jeremy was born, but I couldn't walk away. Jeremy needed me. And I couldn't ask you to wait.”

“You should have let me make that decision,” she said.

Gage took a deep, ragged breath. “I have to ask you—the child. What happened to the—”

“Denny threw her against a chair,” Ethan said flatly. “I was the first person she called.”

“I had an ectopic pregnancy,” Morgan said. “My abdomen hit the back of the chair so hard, my fallopian tube ruptured. I would have lost the baby anyway.”

“But can you still—”

“Conceive? Yes, but since I only have one ovary and one fallopian tube, it will be twice as hard.”

Gage’s eyes glistened. “Not such a bad thing, having to try twice as hard. It could be fun.”

“I should have killed Denny then,” Ethan said. “I should have.” His focus was beginning to wander. “I should have gone to Atlanta, found Denny, and killed the bastard. But tonight, I finally did it. I smashed his head in, then pushed him into the kettle. It felt so damned good.” His eyes settled on her face. “I...I did it for you, Morgan. Everything I do is for you.” EhE

He sniffed and wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Why don't you love me?”

“Ethan, I’m sorry,” she said.

Ethan laughed. “She’s sorry. She’s
sorry
. All of this was for nothing—the orchard, Dad's death, Sean, Peach.”

“What about Peach?” Morgan asked.

“He started the fire at Bad Moon,” Gage said. “To get rid of Peach, right?”

Ethan lowered the gun. “That slut was going to move in here and help Sean with the farm so you could leave again, Morgan. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to make sure you stayed here. With me.”

Morgan shook her head. “And the fact that Peach swears she has a copy of Harlan’s will and you could lose a chunk of the estate if he named her as a beneficiary didn’t enter into it?”

“How did you know about that?” Ethan asked.

“I listened to the voicemails Peach left on your father’s cell phone,” Morgan said. “Peach thought he was going to leave her set for life. But she sounded unsure about it. I wonder if Sean warned Harlan about her. Your Dad and Sean were pretty close.”

“Stop it!” Ethan spun around. For one terrifying moment, Morgan thought he was going slam the gun into Gage’s head.

“Shut up about my father and Sean! My father thought I was weak because I didn't want to work in the slaughterhouse. He made fun of me, ridiculed me, told the men working the chutes I was a sissy because I couldn't stomach the blood. But he treated Sean like a man. Sean didn't have to do anything to gain his respect. Sean was Robert Maguire's grandson, and he could do no wrong. My father said Sean was more of a son to him than I had ever been. So, you know what? Let Sean bleed to death. I don’t care. Sean Maguire makes me want to puke.”