Ex, Why, and Me (6 page)

Dr. Fielding straightened and looked at them. “The replica is exact to the photo. You have passed this level and may proceed to the playground, where you will be given instructions for your next assignment.”

Michelle didn’t have time to sag with relief. Ryan startled her when he grabbed her by the wrist. She was even more surprised that she didn’t yank away. The sight of his large hand curling around her made her feel fizzy inside.

“C’mon,” he said, tugging her toward the stairs. They hurried to the main floor, the metal steps clattering under their feet.

Once they got to the hallway, Ryan headed for the back of the building. Michelle tried to keep up, but was all too aware of how her shoes rubbed against her feet.

“You do realize that the other teams cheated?” Michelle asked in a hissing whisper. “No way could they have finished so quickly.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“I don’t know what the Aschenbrenners did, but Clayton probably used his watch. I saw it this morning and it was sweet. It definitely had a powerful light.”

“If that’s cheating,” Ryan said as he peered down one hallway before taking another route, “then you need to remember that we cheated, too.”

That didn’t make her feel better. “Yeah, well…they cheated first.”

“No, they cheated better.”

“What is the rush?” Michelle asked, wincing as Ryan made a hard right turn when she wasn’t expecting it. Her feet were killing her. “It’s not like we’re going to win this thing.”

“You keep saying that.” Ryan looked over his shoulder. “Is there something you know that I don’t?”

Now, there’s a leading question…
“You really want that treasure chest, huh?”

“I really want to be able to walk around town with my head held high,” he muttered.

Must not have had to handle many disastrous one-night stands.
Michelle scrunched up her face when she realized how snarky she was being. God, she was making up for lost time. She hadn’t given it too much thought all these years, and then, bam! It was constantly on her mind.

She really had to stop holding it against him. Most of the women she knew didn’t have a good first time, and if they had the chance, they would have done things differently. Like made the guy work harder for it, or gone for a different guy completely.

She didn’t want anything like that. It wasn’t as if Ryan had cheated her out of anything. Although, now that she thought about it, he could have been nicer on the way home. He didn’t have to make her feel as though she did something horribly wrong. The way he went on about it, she had started to wonder if she caused him permanent damage. And he definitely didn’t need to make her think that there was something wrong with her.

Nope, Michelle thought as she glared at Ryan’s back. She changed her mind. She had every right to be snarky. In fact, she should be snarkier.

An older man dressed in faded overalls and a baseball cap so worn she couldn’t make out the advertisement greeted them at the playground door. “You guys the final team?”

“I guess so,” Michelle answered reluctantly. She couldn’t believe they had lost their lead. She hoped they could make up for it on this task.

“Good. Here is your next assignment.” He handed the envelope to Michelle. Ryan dropped his hold so she could rip it open. She frowned as she read the card.

“Tell me it’s not another riddle,” Ryan said.

“Homer and Ida had several friends living in Carbon Hill,” Michelle read out loud. “While it was never proven that they assisted the Wirts, people around here called them the Butcher, the Baker, and the Candlestick Maker.” She looked up from the paper. “Well, they don’t get extra bonus points for originality. Why were they called these names?”

The old man hooked his thumbs behind his overall straps. “Dunno. All you need to do is find out who these people were. Then visit what had been their homes and you’ll get a piece of a map.”

Michelle closed her eyes and tried not to whimper. Did they have to make everything so freaking difficult? Couldn’t they just give her the address and be satisfied?

“Once you put the map together,” the old man continued, “you’ll find your final destination for the night.”

“Great.” The word dragged from her throat.

“At least it’s not a riddle,” Ryan pointed out.

Michelle turned and looked at him. Could he spare her? She didn’t want to see the brighter side right now. “We have to walk all over town. This could take us until tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to walk,” the man told her. “The organizers offered transportation on this leg of the hunt.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” Michelle thwacked her palm against her forehead and sighed with relief.

“Meet Lucifer.” The old man gestured to the side of the school. When she spotted the horse—the big, black, snorting horse—she went rigid.

Ryan seemed to pick up on her attitude change immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asked, for her ears only.

Michelle started to back away. “I can’t ride that thing.” She couldn’t take her eyes off of the animal. There was no telling what the creature would do if she turned her back.

Ryan placed his arm around her shoulders and held her firmly. As if he knew she was going to bolt. “It’ll be fine,” he assured her.

She shook her head side to side. “No, I don’t think you understand. I would rather eat a bucket of raw horseradish than get on”—she pointed a shaky finger at the horse—“that thing.”

“Michelle.”

“No. No. No.” She folded her arms tightly across her chest and ground her heels into the playground’s trampled grass. “I can’t do it and you can’t make me. You know what? I quit!”

“You’re quitting over a horse?”

Ryan’s disbelief rang in Michelle’s ears. It probably did seem strange since she had told him that they weren’t quitting. And had sounded as though she wouldn’t budge on her position.

And she had meant it, too. But he didn’t realize that there were special circumstances. Like horses. Big ones that looked as if they could knock you down with the flick of their tails. “I can’t ride it.”

He stroked her upper arm. “Sure, you can.”

Michelle was already shaking her head. “No, you don’t understand.”

“It’s going to be okay.” His voice was kind and gentle. Ryan was being very patient. And that was making her very suspicious. He was probably figuring out the best way to throw her onto the horse like a burlap sack.

“Have you ridden before?” Ryan asked.

“Yes,” she answered with false brightness, “and I have fallen before, too.”

His hands curled around her shoulders. “The rule is to get right back on the horse.”

“I did that,” she said as she hunched. “I rode it all the way back to the stable, got off, and never looked back. It’s amazing how easy one can get through life without riding a horse.”

“Guess what?” He stepped behind Michelle and propelled her toward the horse. “You’re going to break that streak today.”

“If I do that, I’ll break more than a streak,” Michelle predicted as she dug her heels in, feeling the dirt spraying behind her.

She noticed that they were getting closer to the horse. Her strength was no match for Ryan’s. She hooked her legs around his knees.

Ryan halted before he fell. “Michelle,” he warned. She responded by hooking her elbows with his. “This is ridiculous.”

“Easy for you to say.” She looked at the old man who was watching her as if he saw panicked women every day. “Am I required to ride that horse?”

He adjusted the dingy brim of his hat and he pondered the question. “Probably.”

You’re a big help, mister.
“Well, unless the organizers officially demand it, to my face, I will walk beside Satan here.”

“Lucifer,” the man corrected.

“Same thing.” It was a nice compromise. They would use the horse and she wasn’t quitting. A very mature handling of a crisis if she did say so herself.

Ryan disentangled himself from Michelle. “You can’t keep up with this horse.”

“Excuse me? Are you saying I can’t hold my own with a horse?” She glanced at the old man. “No offense. I’m sure it’s a fine animal.”

“Uh…none taken.”

“Yeah,” Ryan said. “That’s what I’m saying.”

“You’re wrong.” Michelle folded her arms across her chest and looked at Ryan in the eye. He really did have gorgeous eyes. It was unfair.

“You really want to crisscross town on foot in those shoes?” He gestured at her feet.

Michelle remained still although her toe started to throb harder from all the attention. “Yes. More than I want to ride that horse.”

He held his hand up. “Enough arguing. You’re wasting time. Get up on this horse. I’ll help you.”

Michelle held her ground when she really wanted to make a run for it. She had a feeling he could catch up with her easily. “The other teams couldn’t have gone far on their horses.”

“They don’t have horses,” the old man said.

Michelle’s and Ryan’s heads swiveled.
“What?”
they asked in unison.

“First team out got first pick of transportation,” he explained. “I thought you guys knew that.”

Michelle closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, warding off a hell of a headache. “What were the other choices?” she asked with unnatural calm.

“Well”—the man rubbed his stubbly chin with his hand as he remembered—“the Aschenbrenners came out first. They picked the bikes.”

“They got bikes?” Michelle cried out. She turned to Ryan. “I could have ridden a bike!”

“You never fell off of one of those before?”

Michelle closed her mouth with a snap. She glared at him, but his smile only grew bigger. The man had no idea that falling off a horse was a completely different thing than taking a tumble from a bike.

“Then the Rasmussen girl and the quiet guy came out right after the Aschenbrenners,” the old man said. “They took the car.”

“Car?” Michelle blinked and she tilted her head closer, to hear better. “I’m sorry. I thought I heard you say the word ‘car’?”

“I sure did. Don’t know what kind it was. An old, beaten-up jalopy, just like the one the Wirts had.”

“Wait a second,” Ryan said. “I don’t understand. If the Aschenbrenners came out first, why didn’t they take the car?”

The old man gave him a sly look. “Have you ever drove a car built in the nineteen-twenties?”

“No.”

“I had a feeling. Because you’re asking me that question.”

Michelle and Ryan looked at each other and shrugged. Just what she needed. A guy talking in code.

“Come on, Michelle.” Ryan wrapped his hand around her arm. “We’ve wasted enough time. Get on the horse.”

She removed his hand. “I’m walking.” She headed for the street. Her feet were going to pay the price for the brisk pace, but she had a point to make.

She sensed Ryan following her on horseback. Michelle sighed with relief. He had backed off. For now.

“Fine,” Ryan said. “Then you can clean up after the horse. Now, do you have any idea of where we’re going?”

“No,” she admitted. She was probably walking in the wrong direction.

“The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker,” Ryan mused out loud.

“Knaves all three,” Michelle finished. She never did like that nursery rhyme.

“What is a knave?”

Michelle shrugged. “No clue.” She looked over and noticed that Ryan seemed very comfortable on the big, black horse. The big, black horse that was too close to her. Michelle moved to the far end of the sidewalk.

“One option,” Ryan said, “is that we find out who are the current butcher and baker and—”

“Candlestick maker? Does Carbon Hill still have one?” Did they ever have one?

“There’s a fancy candle shop off Church Street.”

“Hmm…” Michelle thought about it and shook her head. “No. That’s way too easy.”

“Do you remember anything Mother Goose around here?” Ryan asked. “A nursery school or a shop?”

“We are not going to get off that lucky.” Michelle reached for her phone. “I’m going to call the local library. They might know who the Wirts’ friends were.”

Michelle searched for the phone number and dialed it, trying really hard not to notice every sound and smell of the horse. She hoped they weren’t required to use it for the rest of the hunt.

“Carbon Hill Library,” a young woman answered. “Elizabeth Finch speaking.”

“Hi, Elizabeth. This is Michelle Nelson—”

“Oh!” the librarian squealed. “Michelle Nelson! You’re the celebrity chef.”

Michelle’s eyes widened. What had her mother been saying about her? “No! I’m a pastry chef for a restaurant in Chicago.” Pastry. Celebrity. They sounded similar…ish. “I’m participating in the scavenger hunt—”

“And judging the horseradish recipes,” Elizabeth added. “Everyone is very excited about that.”

How did she know that already? “I’m looking forward to judging,” Michelle lied. “But about the hunt…”

“Yes?”

“I need some background on the Wirts’ cronies. Particularly the ones that were called the Butcher, the Baker, and the Candlestick Maker. Do you know where we could get that information?”

“Let me look that up,” the librarian offered. “I can call you right back.”

“That would be great.” Michelle gave her the number, so thankful she didn’t have to walk any more than necessary.

“By the way,” Elizabeth said, “how do you feel about gelatin molds?”

Michelle pressed the phone harder against her ear. “Excuse me?”

“Gelatin molds.”

What was she asking? Did she like them? Have a gelatin philosophy? “I’m…not…against them.”

“I entered my family’s recipe in the horseradish contest.”

“Oh…” Michelle felt increasingly lost in the conversation. “Did you now?”

“Lemon-lime gelatin with cottage cheese, pineapple chunks, and horseradish. Lots of horseradish,” Elizabeth added proudly.

Michelle swallowed roughly. “Mmm. Tasty.” There was a pause and she wasn’t sure what the librarian expected from her. “I’ll keep an eye out for it.”

“Wonderful! I’ll get right back to you.”

Michelle ended the connection and slowly put the phone in her jacket pocket.

“Anything wrong?”

She glanced in Ryan’s direction, but saw the horse looking at her. She turned to face straight ahead. “I think I was just bribed.”

She heard Ryan’s chuckle and imagined his smile. Crooked with a faint dimple. “Did you accept?” he asked.

Michelle halted and clapped her hand over her mouth. Oh, God. Did she? “I’m not sure.”

Ryan leaned against the white picket fence and glanced up when he heard the old-fashioned streetlight buzzing to life. It was going to get dark fast and they hadn’t started on the last leg of the assignment.

Worse, they hadn’t seen the other teams for a while. The Aschenbrenners had zipped by them on their bicycles two hours ago. Earlier, he and Michelle had passed the other team undetected. Clayton and Brandy had been too busy cursing over their stalled car.

“Whoo-hoo!”

Ryan paused. Was that Michelle? Could it be that she was having some fun with this hunt? Perish the thought. He turned to look at the small brick house and saw Michelle wave a fragment of paper as if it were a flag.

“We got the final piece of the map!” she called out to him, limping her way down the brick path. She raised her arms in victory. “Yes!”

Ryan smiled as her jubilant expression tugged at his heart. That was the old Michelle Nelson. Ready to take the world by storm.

“Okay,” she said as she approached him. “Give me the other papers and then we will be on our way.”

After he gave her the map fragments they had acquired, she knelt down on the sidewalk and arranged the papers. Then rearranged them. Again and again, her movements growing impatient. “Shoot. Why isn’t this working? This should be simple.”

“Because it’s not a traditional map.” Ryan crouched down. “Let me do it.”

“Thanks.” She leaned back and frowned. Glancing over his shoulder, she asked, “Where’s Beelzebub?”

“If you’re talking about the horse,” Ryan said as he concentrated on putting the map together, “I tied Lucifer to the hitching post down there.”

Michelle made a little huff. “Only Carbon Hill would have hitching posts.”

Ryan pointed at the small sign on the corner. “It’s here because this is the historic district.”

He had noticed Michelle’s disparaging comments about Carbon Hill as they went from one corner of town to the other. He had heard plenty about how tiny and suffocating the town was. The many empty storefronts and the all-around shabbiness.

He could have pointed out the strong sense of community, the pride of heritage, and a bunch of other things, but she’d just accuse him of being optimistic. Like it was a bad thing.

He fitted the last map piece and studied the markings. “There we are.” He tapped at the symbol and then slid his finger down an artistic interpretation of a country road. “And this is where we need to go.”

“Where, exactly, is ‘this’?” She moved closer to see. “How far away do you think it is?”

“Past the cemetery.” The autumn breeze pulled at them and he caught the faintest whiff of expensive cinnamon.

“Way
past the cemetery.”

“Looks like farmland.” Ryan picked up the pieces and stood up. “The Wirts’ farm, I bet.”

“That would make sense.” Michelle rose to her full height. He couldn’t believe that she only reached to his shoulder. She had always seemed taller. Larger than life.

“Do you know where it is?” she asked as they headed for the horse, who was snacking on some weeds.

“Yep. The Wirts’ only living relative turned the home into a bed and breakfast.”

“Really? Why would someone come to Carbon Hill for a bed and breakfast?”

Ryan ignored that. He was getting the feeling that Michelle was trying to convince herself of something. “We have to go across town and pass the city limits. You’re going to need to ride the horse.”

Michelle squeezed her eyes shut. It appeared she wanted to whimper. Stomp her foot. He bet the only thing stopping her was a big blister on her heel.

“I’ll hold on to you,” he promised. He knew he was asking a lot from her and he would do whatever was necessary to make it easier.

Her eyelids flew open in surprise. “You’re riding the horse, too?”

Ryan frowned. He thought that was a given. “The horse can take the both of us.”

“But…”

“I’m not walking.” He needed to make that point clear. “And it will take too long.”

Michelle stared at the horse and Ryan could feel her wavering. He was not going to let her walk anymore. She had taken her stance too far. He needed to step in and he was angry with himself for not doing it sooner.

“C’mon.” He stood behind her and placed his hands on her waist. She felt small and delicate. A wave of protectiveness crashed through him. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She looked over her shoulder at him, the move sharp and swift. She immediately looked back at the horse, but it was too late. He had seen her eyes. He knew that what he said got to her.

But he didn’t know why it did. Because no one ever told her that? Or was it because no one ever had to?

She grabbed the saddle horn and clambered onto Lucifer. Her mount wasn’t going to be the envy of any equestrian, but it got her up.

The horse shied and backed up. Ryan saw Michelle’s knuckles whiten as she gripped the horn. He quickly untied the reins from the hitching post and gave them to Michelle so he could mount.

He saw how her hands trembled. Something inside him twisted at the sight. He got on the horse as quickly as he could and took the reins.

Michelle dropped them gratefully. Her hands slapped against the pummel and he bet they weren’t going to leave the spot for the remainder of the ride.

Ryan wrapped his arm around her, holding her firmly. She felt good in his arms, nestled against him. But he wasn’t sure how she would react. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until he felt Michelle slightly relax against him.