Soft Target (9 page)

Chapter Ten

Maggie should have known their fun would have repercussions, even well-meaning ones. It started at Sunday lunch.

“Michael and I can sit across from each other today,” Tiffany offered while she chopped vegetables for a salad, “that way you and Gray can—”

“We’re fine with a table between us,” Maggie sighed. Pulling the potatoes from the oven, she perched the pan on the edge of the countertop. There was never enough room without moving—”Did something happen to the cookie jar?”

“It didn’t match my kitchen stuff,” Faith explained, “and it’s too crowded over there when I’m cooking.”

“Isn’t there another part to this table in the basement?” Charlene yelled from the dining room. “Then no couple would have to be separated.”

I knew this would happen
.
I knew it the minute he sat next to me in church this morning.
Charlene always teased Tiffany about matchmaking, but it didn’t take much for her to join in.

“The potatoes are finished,” Maggie snapped as she slid the hot pan onto the countertop. “They just need pepper. Char, can you add that? I’ll be back in a minute.”

Once outside, Maggie retreated to the farthest corner of the deck. Keeping her back to the house and her gaze on the ragged teeth of the mountains, she let gulps of crisp air burn her lungs until her fingers relaxed.

“Maggie?”

“Dammit!” Her recently slowed heart rate doubled as she turned to see Gray standing between her and the windows. Without thinking, she yanked him around the corner and out of everyone’s view. “Did anyone see you come out here?”

“I wasn’t paying attention. Are you all right?”

“I needed some air,” she sighed as she sagged against the railing, facing him. “Tiffany’s being a pill.”

“Leave it to a happily married pregnant woman to want everyone else matched. It’s not a big deal, and I’d think you’d be used to it by now.”

It’s not the matchmaking. I’m used to that. It’s getting her hopes up I can’t stand.

“Are you ready to go back in?” he asked. “I think lunch was about ready. Charlene was bugging Nate about an additional part for the—”

“That table doesn’t need an extension. If they make it longer, there won’t be room to move the chairs on the ends. They’ll bang into the other furniture.”

His large hand enclosed her knotted fist, and she willed her muscles to ignore its warmth. “What’s wrong?”

She thought staying quiet might deter him. It didn’t. Finally, she rolled her eyes heavenward and whispered, “Every Sunday afternoon we sat at
that
table for Mathis board meetings, so I could tell Dad and Granddad what I’d learned in town and they could tell me about the businesses.
That
table. I sat in my grandmother’s spot. I worked in her kitchen, where her stuff was. Changing it means they’re gone.” She drew a shaky breath. “It’s not my home anymore.”

He was silent for a few seconds. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Her hand was cold without his over it, and she pushed that feeling aside. At least her fingers had unfolded, although sharp crescents remained in her palms. They hadn’t faded when Gray came back, carrying her jacket.

“I told them you didn’t feel well and I was following you home.” He smiled. “Why don’t we go for a ride?”

They walked to the driveway, him shortening his stride to match hers. She’d seen the motorcycle today in the church parking lot, and she’d noticed how well he’d handled it when she’d followed him out here. Now it gleamed in the sunshine.

Onyx aluminum, polished chrome and rich leather soaked in the heat from the air. It was like touching a living thing, like feeling his muscles under her hands. She pulled her fingers behind her back.

“Maybe a picnic?” she offered. “Several farm stands will be open.”

“I’ll follow you and you can change.”

Maggie didn’t feel guilty. She didn’t even look at the house as she pulled away. She did, however, stare at her escort in the rearview mirror all the way home.

They stopped in their traditional spots in the back lot, and he pulled off his helmet, balancing it on one knee. “Jeans, boots and a heavy jacket, please.”

“Yes, sir.” Her salute was ruined by her smirk.

“Don’t be a smart-ass.”

Rather than insulting her, the warning made her giggle. It worsened with his embarrassed grimace.

“Sorry. It’s force of habit. My last girlfriend never dressed right.” He froze, his eyes wide.

Maggie’s stomach somersaulted as her heart lurched. Warmth spread through her, even as her laughter bubbled free.

He shoved his hand back through his hair. “Umm...”

She needed to save him the embarrassment. It was normal after dancing, while thinking about a date. Most people considered that something you did with a girlfriend. “You bought a date, not a girlfriend,” she teased, ignoring the cold rock in her stomach. “It’s not that kind of auction.” She walked up the stairs and to the door. “I’ll be right down.”

Sprinting upstairs, she discarded church clothes and heels into a pile and snagged the clothes he’d suggested. While she wriggled into the jeans, she risked a peek out her window to watch him in the parking lot. All she could see was his dark hair, his long, denim-clad legs and his heavy boots.

Girlfriend. What would that be like? What would he be like?

She shook the thoughts free. That wasn’t what this was about. It was a motorcycle ride, in broad daylight. Just like riding on the back of Kevin’s Jet Ski at Fourth of July picnics.
Her pulse quickened as she remembered being in Gray’s arms. He wasn’t Kevin.

And he’d asked her...
What? On a date. No, he hasn’t. He’s bid on one. Just like Nate did every year.
Her skin tingled. Definitely not a sisterly feeling.

Shoving the feelings aside, she tromped outside. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Wear this,” he said as he offered the helmet.

She didn’t want to think of him unprotected. “But you—”

“I have an extra at the house,” he said as he pushed sunglasses up his nose. “That’s our first stop.”

Maggie pulled the heavy gear over her head and adjusted the chin strap, and Gray smiled as he flipped the visor down to cover her eyes, shutting her in with the smell of clean, sweaty man. She climbed onto the back of the bike. His jacket was supple from the sun and, as he maneuvered the bike, his muscles flexed underneath.

Once he had a helmet, they hopped from one farm stand to the other as they filled a pack with sandwiches, fruit, drinks and pastries. Then they cruised to the edge of the county and found a spot with an excellent view of the mountains and the sky.

Under a tree, well off the road, they sat in the dappled sunshine and talked about anything but work or last night’s dance. Gray stretched out and rested on one elbow while Maggie reclined against a tree.

“Thank you for this. Tiffany was in high gear, and the others were getting in on the act. It’s like I’m some sort of ugly duckling who finally got asked to the prom.”

“They’ll get over it. And you aren’t the ugly duckling.”

Her stomach somersaulted again. “Thanks.”

They pulled food from the pack, eating items in random order. In the quiet, surrounded by nature and warmed by sunshine, Maggie relaxed for the first time all week.

“What are your parents like?”

He frowned up at her. “You know my parents.”

“I’m embarrassed to say I don’t. Not really. Just in the vague ‘Gray has parents’ sort of way. You know almost everything about my family, and I don’t know anything about yours.”

“Is this because I called you my girlfriend?” he teased.

She rolled her eyes. “I can tell you everything about Tiffany’s family, or Charlene’s.”

“Well, Charlene’s is understandable since you and David dated for so long. Where is he, anyway?”

“Foreign service somewhere,” she said. She didn’t want to talk about David. “The point is, I know all my
friends
’ families except yours. Call it a morbid fascination if you want.”

“Okay then. My dad, Frank, is a retired marine and—”

“That explains your pushy streak,” she said, winking.

“Hush,” he scolded. “At least I learned my manners from my mother, Helen, who’s a reformed Englishwoman. They met when Dad was stationed in Europe. He retired when I was twelve and we moved to his family’s farm.”

“Was it difficult?”

“My middle-school class hadn’t seen a new kid since first grade. I sucked at football in Nebraska. I had a name that sounded like a cracker, and I looked like a stork.”

“Did you like Nebraska?”

“Hated it. We’d bounced around from base to base, so I’d seen all sorts of places. I couldn’t wait to be gone. To get back to the city and travel. To not be tied to planting or harvest schedules.”

“What’s your favorite place?” she asked, hoping to add more vacation spots to her list.

“I loved Japan, and we went to New Zealand when Dad was stationed in Hawaii. I’d like to go back.” He sighed. “But now I understand why he wanted to go home. I get the appeal. I’m lighter when I’m in Boone, drinking tea with my mother and banging around the yard with my dad.”

“Does he still farm?”

Gray shook his head. “He sold most of the acreage to make sure I’d have enough money for law school. He said he didn’t want to farm anymore, but I catch him watching the fields.”

As he’d talked, Maggie had watched his face. Talking about his parents made him smile, and his memories, even the bad ones, had softened the angles on his face. But now, discussing his father’s sacrifice, he looked weighted by regret and sadness. That hadn’t been her intention.

“What was your favorite thing to do on Sunday afternoons when you were a kid?” she asked.

He plucked a blade of grass and put it between his teeth. “I’d lie in the yard and guess where the airplanes were going. What about you?”

“I’d look for shapes in the clouds.” She inched her way to the ground, her head perpendicular to his. “Not a lot of planes out today.”

He smiled. “Clouds it is.”

Maggie’s spine melted into the soil as they pointed and laughed as the wind pushed cotton candy clouds into races, dragons chased birds and puppies warred over bones. A spot of clear sky provided respite. It was short-lived.

“What happened today? Other than the table?”

“Faith got rid of Grandma’s cookie jar. It always sat next to the stove because we weren’t allowed to climb on the counters there. It was Grandma’s way of rationing cookies. If she didn’t, we ate them until we were sick and left gooey fingerprints everywhere.” Keeping her eyes on the bright blue patch above them, she fought past the tightness in her chest. “It’s supposed to be this way. It’s Faith’s kitchen now.”

“It must be difficult.”

“Grandma would be laughing her ass off,” Maggie said. “She practically had to chain me in the kitchen.” Laughter felt good. “You would’ve liked her. She was an angel, but no one ever got anything over on her. She and Grandpa made a good team.”

Maggie lost herself in the memories of her grandparents laughing and flirting with each other. And arguing, if she was honest. Anne and Ollie Mathis had been inseparable, like a pair of shoes—one useless without the other. It had been the one thing Maggie had clung to during Grandpa’s funeral. At least he and Anne were together again, telling God how to do things.

“They liked you, you know,” she said. “My dad and my granddad.”

“I liked them, too,” he murmured.

The fading light tinted the clouds pink and gold. The earth cooled. “I didn’t realize how long we’d been out here.”

“I should take you home.” Gray’s hand closed over hers.

She thought about the chores waiting on her, but she didn’t budge. “It would be a shame to miss the sunset.”

* * *

Shelby locked the door to her two-star motel room behind her and dropped her head into her body language disguise. Staring at her shoes and curving her shoulders forward, she scurried to the truck stop and thought about everything she’d learned in the past week.

Gray had a new job. A
job
. And he drove a
truck.
On Friday, he’d pulled from a driveway and passed her without recognition. She’d doubled back for the address and taken a look at the place. It was a cross between a fairy-tale cottage and a
Home and Garden
cover. Beautiful, but a maintenance nightmare, and nothing like his apartment.

At the courthouse, Kate Fletcher had been more than willing to fill in the details about the owner of the house, Maggie Mathis, and her family, and Gray’s new job with Mathis Enterprises.

What sort of recovery required a new job? And nothing in Kate’s gossip had hinted that he was temporary. It was the opposite, actually. He appeared to be building a new life.

Taking a huge risk, Shelby had gone to the library to research the Mathis family. Kate wasn’t a fan of Maggie’s, but logic demanded Shelby uncover the other side of the story.

After hours of reading, Shelby had a well-rounded picture all right. Maggie Mathis, Nate’s twin sister, was the uber-socialite, a model citizen and drop-dead gorgeous.

Gray had lied.
Lied
. Why? What was he playing at?

Rick was waiting at the back door. “I hope you don’t mind working the night shift. It’ll be boring, but I thought it would be the easiest.”

She concentrated on softening her breath and her voice as she followed him to the employee lounge. Finding an empty locker, she stowed her purse and tied an apron around her waist. “I appreciate you thinking about that. I’d hate to slow everyone down when you’re busy.”

His appreciative smile was her reward.

“I’m going to turn you over to Carl. He mostly works in the kitchen, but he’s good with details and he keeps everything in order around here.” Rick’s eye roll hinted at more exasperation than humor. “He prefers the night shift so he can keep everything clean.”

The young man already in the kitchen was captivated by the wiring on an ancient griddle. He looked up when they came in, and she was struck by his almost military appearance. His hands were calloused by what could only be years of hard work. Regardless, his soft eyes made him appear boyish although he had to be at least thirty, and his handshake was gentle.