Chapter Twenty-eight
“I didn’t clean up the bar,” Morgan complained. “I take cleanup duty.”
“So you get a night off. How big a mirror?”
He took her keys, nudged her into the car.
“What? Oh, I don’t know until I see. Jesus, we had a lot to drink.”
“I noticed. It’s the first time I’ve seen you drunk.”
“Not drunk, but definitely not fit to drive. We weren’t going anywhere.” She rested her head back. “They were having such a good time. We were. I swear, Gram could drink both of us under the table, then under the floorboards. And she was on her way to doing just that.
“She was a complete wild child,” Morgan continued. “Did you know that? I had some sense before, but holy shit, no real idea. They just seemed like, you know, grandparents. She went to Woodstock. She dragged my grandfather to Woodstock. The Woodstock. She claims she smoked pot with Janis Joplin. Maybe she’s making that up, but who knows? And now she lives in that big old beautiful house and runs two businesses and makes roast chicken and pound cake.
“You have to wonder.”
“Wonder what?”
“What twists and turns take a woman like Gram from Woodstock and Janis Joplin to this.” She gestured at the town as they drove through. “To Westridge, Vermont. To starting a business, going to yoga class and book club meetings. To being not just content but happy, satisfied.
“Anyway, we were having a really good time.”
“I noticed.” He’d give her grief about not having the phone with her later.
“You didn’t have to come with Jake, but I’m glad you did. And I hope my ladies do have an early night, and don’t worry about all this too much.”
“You saw that video. And you had it right. He’s lost his edge.”
“My mother was right, too. He’s crazy. You could see the crazy. He’d buried the crazy in Maryland, Miles. I never saw it. No one did. He played darts and trivia, and bought rounds, talked gaming with Sam. No one saw the crazy.”
“Now he can’t hide it anymore.” After he pulled into his driveway, Miles turned to her. “That’s going to make him easier to catch.”
“I hope so. I’m buzzed enough to whine I want it over. I just want it over.”
“I’m not buzzed, and I want it over. And that wasn’t whining. I’ll tell you when you’re whining.”
That made her smile. “You would.”
He got out of the car, came around as she got out her side. And from in the house, Howl howled.
Inside, he greeted Miles with a mild stare, a quick wag. Then greeted Morgan with a rush of adoration.
“Maybe it’s the way you smell,” Miles considered. “It’s pretty appealing.”
“Well, thanks. Who’s a good boy? Did you have fun today? I bet you did. Did your big brother give you some of that pulled pork?”
“I’m not his brother. I’m his landlord.”
“Don’t pay any attention to him. Let’s go up to the attic. Won’t that be fun?”
“Let’s wait on that. I want to talk to you.”
She straightened up and, he noted, made her face absolutely blank. “All right.”
“We should sit down.”
With the dog all but pasted to the side of her leg, she went with him, took a chair.
“I was going to do this a different way. I hadn’t figured out the way yet, but different than this. But I figure you being slightly impaired gives me a distinct advantage. And why are you sitting there like you’re waiting outside the principal’s office?”
“I’m not. Just say it. I’ll deal with it.”
“Fine. I’m in love with you.”
Her face stayed blank even when she blinked. “What? What?”
“You heard me, but I’ll say it again for clarity. I’m in love with you.”
“I have to sit down.”
“You are sitting down.”
“I have to stand up.” She stood, then immediately sat again. “I’m dizzy. It’s not the drinking. Miles—”
“Just be quiet.” Impatience wrapped around the words. “You talked all the way over here, so be quiet. I’m not done.”
Since she didn’t know what to say to that, she said nothing.
“I didn’t plan on it. And I didn’t see it coming. Should have, but didn’t. I can’t claim it crept up on me, not when it kept hitting me in the face over so many things. The way your hands move when you’re working. That’s ridiculous, but there it is. How your brain works, how your heart works, how your body works. All of it.”
Because he focused on her, he didn’t notice when Howl walked over to him, leaned against his knee.
“But the knockout punch wound up at the waterfall, then started coming at the lookout. And it knocked me flat at the end of Liam’s goddamn ropes course. So I’m in love with you, Morgan. It wasn’t in the plan, and it wasn’t part of the deal we made. But it wasn’t a deal so much as guidelines. I’m moving outside the lines, so now deal with that.”
“I—”
“I’m still not done.” He took out the ring in his pocket. “We’ll get married.”
He said it matter-of-factly, the way he might’ve said We’ll watch a movie.
She stared, and her mouth moved, but it took a minute for it to form actual words. “That’s—that’s your grandmother’s ring.”
“Does every woman recognize a diamond at six feet? Since I’m in love with you, and we’re already outside the lines, we’ll get married.”
She stared, then dropped her head between her knees.
“Christ, do you really have to get sick now?”
“Not sick. Need to breathe. Stay over there and let me breathe.” She waved a hand in the air as if to push him away, though he hadn’t moved.
“If you want poetry, I can probably still recite most of ‘The Raven.’ And I’ve got some Yeats in me.”
“Shut up. Did you get that ring from your grandmother because of Jake—what Jake told you before you came over?”
“I asked her for it before Jake got there. On their fiftieth wedding anniversary, she told me to ask for it when I’d found the one. When I was sure. When I was ready. You’re the one. I’m sure. I’m ready. Get on board, Morgan.”
“Before,” she murmured, and lifted her head. “Not because of.”
The fact he scowled at her leveled her heart rate.
“It’s not a force field against psychos. It’s a ring. It’s a symbol. It’s a damn question I wish you’d answer.”
She swiped at her face. “You didn’t ask a question. You made statements. Wait.” She held up a hand before he could speak. “It’s funny. Just this morning, Gram and I were working in the garden, and I ended up telling her I was in love with you. It did sneak up on me. I didn’t expect it, didn’t look for it. I’ve never felt it before, but I knew what it was. I thought you wanted to tell me you thought we should slow things down.”
“That was stupid.”
“Was it? Maybe. Blame the vodka—that was the second contender. I stuck with that. Never had a real taste for bourbon.”
He kept watching her, and smiled.
“King of the jungle.”
“What?”
“Your eyes. They might’ve been what started the whole thing for me—or your sparkling, people-pleaser personality. We’ll go with the eyes,” she decided when he laughed. “Tiger eyes, I thought. Lions are king of the jungle, but whatever. That ring. I can’t begin to say … you’d offer me that ring because I understand the power and meaning of that symbol. That particular symbol.”
“I’ve been advised not to get down on one knee.”
“Please don’t. You’d look ridiculous. And just stay over there for right now so I can try to be coherent. Marriage … Miles, I saw for myself how cold and wrong my mother’s was. And one of the reasons was me. A child,” she corrected before he could protest. “Any girl child anyway. So, it’s important we know how—”
“I want kids—that’s where you’re going. And plural. I don’t care what type. I want kids. I want family. With you. It’s a big house. We could fill it.”
Now tears swirled. “I want that, so much. With you.”
“Let’s get the rest off the table. If you want to open your own place, you’ll leave a major hole in the resort. It’s still your choice, and I’ll stand by your choice. So will the family if you’re worried about that. But you should understand, Après is yours anyway.”
She’d planned, and planned for so long. Then everything had changed.
And now?
“Après is what I want.”
“Okay, good. You’ll have to start coming to family meetings.”
“Really?”
“It’s part of the package.” He hesitated, so briefly, she might not have noticed. But she did. “It’s a big package, Morgan.”
“I like big packages. Your family must know because you have that ring.”
“They know. So does yours.”
“You told my ladies? Of course you did.” Overwhelmed, she swiped at more tears. “Just—just sit there, okay, until I get this under control. I don’t want to blubber when you put that ring on my finger. Not that ring.”
“Then hurry up.”
“Rozwell.”
“No.” His tone went sharp as a saber. “Don’t bring him here. He’s not in this. This is you and me.”
“You’re right. Did you really do this now because I’d been drinking?”
“Yes.”
“God, I love that, so much. Even though you didn’t actually ask, the answer would be yes, impaired or stone sober. You can get up now.”
She rose when he did, and held out her left hand. When he slipped the ring on, he gave it a wiggle. “It’s a little big for you. We’ll get it sized.”
“I could just do this.” She closed her hand into a fist. “Forever.”
“Yeah, that’ll work. I’ll go in late tomorrow. We’ll hit the jeweler’s when they open.” He took her fist, kissed it. “It should fit, because you do.”
He slid the ring off, then onto her index finger. “There, that does work. Wear it like that until tomorrow.”
“Problem solver,” she murmured, and pulled his face to hers.
The kiss warmed everything in her, lit up everything inside her. She had love, and the promise to make a life with love.
No, she wouldn’t bring Rozwell into it, but she knew now, without a single doubt, she’d do anything and everything to defend the life they promised each other.
“You could tell me again.”
“Tell you what?”
She cupped his face. “Miles.”
“I’m in love with you. You might as well know I’ve never said that to another woman. You’re the first.”
“It’s my job to make sure I’m the last. I love you, Miles. You’re my first, too.”
He rested his forehead on hers. “Then I’ve got my own job to do.” Then he scooped her up. “I say we seal the deal.”
“Yes, please.”
“I think we should do that where we started.”
She laughed as he carried her toward the sofa. “Another thing I love about you. So sentimental.”
“Practical. Couch is close.”
“Practically sentimental.”
He tumbled with her to the couch. “Quiet now,” he said as he tugged off her shirt. “I’m busy finalizing a deal.”
In the morning, with the thrill still so strong, she waited while the jeweler measured her finger, measured the ring.
When Miles offered to buy her what he called a stopgap, she nearly teared up again.
“No, I can wait. It’s worth waiting for.”
“You might want to select your wedding bands.” The saleswoman, all smiles, beamed at them. “We could have those sized for you as well.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. Should we do that? Are you going to want a ring?”
“I ought to get something out of it,” Miles decided. “Keep it simple—keep mine simple. Plain band, no stones. Like that.”
“We could both get ones like that.”
“You could.” The jeweler kept beaming. “But if I could suggest? With a gorgeous vintage engagement ring, an heirloom, you might consider a vintage band. We have a few in this case over here.”
And with that, she lured Morgan to the locked display case.
“Oh, oh, they’re just stunning.”
But Miles had seen just where her gaze landed, and pointed. “That one.”
“Miles—”
“An excellent choice.” Wasting no time, the woman unlocked the case. “It’s from the same era as the solitaire, platinum setting, a double eternity band, two carats total weight, so the solitaire won’t outshine it. They’ll complement each other.”
“See how it looks.”
“You should do the honors.” No fool, the woman handed the ring to Miles. “Good practice. And it looks like a perfect fit. You have the hands for it. Those long slender fingers.”
“Looks good on you.”
“It would look good on anyone. But—”
“You don’t like it?”
“It’s gorgeous. Of course I like it, anyone would. But you don’t have to—”
“We’ll take it. And the other one—the men’s one.”
“Oh God.” Fast, she thought giddily. Lightning fast, but so right. “I might have to sit down again.”
“You can handle it. Now give it back. You don’t get to have it until the deal’s final.”
“I’ll box it for you—such an exquisite choice. And we’ll see if we have your size in the men’s band. You can have something engraved on the inside—no charge.”
“No, we’ll just—”
“Get his size, and he can buy the wedding band. Then you go away, Miles. Go to work,” Morgan told him. “I buy your ring—that’s how it works. And I get to decide if I have anything to say inside it.”
“I’m the one who’ll wear it.”
“Yeah.” She tugged him down, kissed him. “And you’re going to be stuck.”
And she knew just what she wanted engraved.
A Deal’s a Deal.
From the jeweler’s she went straight to Crafty Arts. She saw her mother first, chatting with a pair of customers. Then Audrey saw her. Stopped, and when she read her daughter’s face, began to bounce on her toes before she dashed over to grab Morgan into a hug.
“It happened. It happened. Oh, let me see— Where’s the ring?”
“It had to be sized, just a half size down. It’ll take a few days or so. But I have a picture.”
“She has a picture! Can I tell, can I say? I have to. You have to let me,” she said as Morgan started laughing. “This is my baby girl, and she just got engaged.”
Every woman in the shop applauded, and several walked over to look at the ring.
“I only have a picture. It’s being sized.” She held up her phone.
“What’s all this ruckus?” Olivia demanded as she came down the stairs. She walked straight to Morgan, kissed both her cheeks. “He’s a good man, and almost deserves you. Mimosas on the house, staff and customers. We’re going to toast to a brave new start.”
Rozwell hated fucking Nevada. He hated the goddamn desert, and he hated the filthy, ugly shack he was forced to live in.
He hated the puckered scabby scar on his arm.
Most of all, he hated the solitude, the isolation, the constant nothing.
He had eggs, Christ knew, and he was sick of them.
He had to cook for himself, and clean up after himself, and he was damn sick of that, too. He’d opened cans—lots of cans—and even tried frying up some chicken parts from the freezer.
It turned out scorched outside, too pink inside, and he hated that, too. He did better with rice, carefully following internet instructions.
He’d made a few burgers out of what he thought—hoped—was ground beef, but he didn’t have any buns.
He’d gone through the fresh stuff his dead hostess had provided, lived on eggs, cans, and boxed food. And knew he’d have to make another trip to get some food he could just heat up. And some snacks.
So what if he hadn’t taken off the rest of the weight? Maybe put some back on. So the fuck what? When he had his life back, he’d get back in shape.
He didn’t have anything to do but eat, do his research, play with the tech toys, watch TV on his laptop, and eat some more.
He’d forgotten to water the goat, so he’d had to drag the dead, useless thing back with the woman. What was left of her, and what was left stank so much he’d nearly lost his breakfast.
He’d bought the sheets and towels, but without a dryer, the towels dried stiff. So he’d make a list, make a trip.
Food, numero uno. And he was running low on liquor. Maybe he could get a decent meal—one he didn’t cook or wash up after—in Two Springs. Nobody looked for him in this godforsaken desert, but he’d be careful, keep to himself, though he yearned for voices, movement.
He missed having conversations, knowing most of what he said in them were well-crafted lies.
He caught himself talking to himself, tried to stop. But like the chips, he just couldn’t.
Make the list, drive in, get a meal, buy supplies, drive out again.
He mumbled to himself as he paced around the house, one that had become a cage. Except for that side room. So he went into it, as it always settled him down.
He’d pulled down the Jesus pictures because he didn’t like the way some guy who got himself nailed to a cross stared at him with what looked like pity.
He sat, a man carrying extra weight in his face and belly, one who smelled of sweat, dust, and clothes poorly washed. Roots showed in his dyed hair. His nails needed clipping.
“We’ll just do a little check on our good friend Morgan. Let’s see what that skinny bitch is up to.”
He tracked her usual charges, payments. Groceries, insurance, gas, the monthly payment to her greedy grandmother. And frowned over a charge for seven hundred and change at a jeweler in Westridge.
“What’s all this, Morgan? Getting extravagant? We can’t have that, no, we can’t have that. Not while I’m stuck in this hellhole. Time for a little reminder. Time to touch base.”
He sat back, drumming his unkempt nails on the rough wood table.
“Let’s see, let’s see.”
Closing his eyes, he nearly nodded off in the chair before he shook himself awake, scratched his belly.
He used her account, ordered some slutty clothes—she was a whore, after all. Then went to another site, and another to order whatever caught his eye. Garbage bags, because she was garbage, room deodorizers because garbage stank, always keeping the purchase under five hundred.
He had so much fun he kept at it, hit an online florist for a funeral wreath, and filled out the card.
Morgan, always remember.
“That ought to do it. Yeah, that ought to do it just fine.”
The fun worked up an appetite, so he went in, opened a can of chili. He didn’t bother to heat it up, but ate straight out of the can.
“Another few weeks, that’s all. Just to make sure, make damn sure. Head east before much longer. Maybe catch some of that Vermont foliage. That’s the ticket. Catch some of that color, right? Catch it, kill her dead. Kill her dead and close that deal, collect that debt.”
He tossed the empty can toward the trash, licked the fork.
“Get what she owes me, and it’s smooth sailing again. She’s bad luck, that’s what she is. Brought me bad luck.”
With his belly full, he decided to take a nap. He’d make that list, go into town tomorrow. He didn’t feel like cleaning himself up now. Tomorrow was good enough. Tomorrow meant one more day closer to taking care of business.
As he lay down on sheets he’d sweated through the night before, Beck and Morrison made a pass through Gabbs, then drove to Two Springs.
They’d checked both outlying motels, the single twelve-room hotel in town, shops, eateries. They sat down with the local cops.
It took most of the day and produced not a single hit.
At the end of it, they sat in a little restaurant where the air ran blissfully cold and ate surprisingly good enchiladas.
“We’re not wrong, Quentin, I swear we’re not wrong. There hasn’t been a sign of him in Washington since we started south.”
“Not seeing anything this way either.”
“Not yet. But it still feels right.”
“Maybe he’s gone well and truly to ground. Taking a frigging sabbatical. Or we’re not altogether wrong, but he headed east. Montana, Colorado. Arizona.”
“Let’s do this. We give this another day, get a couple of rooms, work the problem again, get some sleep. Start fresh tomorrow and go into the national forest, brief the park rangers. We get nothing, we take a break. I want to sleep in my own bed with my husband.”
“Another day,” he agreed. “We could use a break, clear the mind, maybe find a new angle. It’s starting to feel like chasing our tails, Tee. I think we were right about him baiting us up north, I think we had that right. I just don’t know if we’ve got this right. Not a damn sign of him.”
“One more day, a break, then back at it. Since we’re staying, let’s have a beer.”
“I can get behind that.”
At the resort, well before her shift, Morgan knocked on Lydia’s door. She knew the matriarch was in, just as she knew word had already spread. She’d wanted to wait until she had the ring on her finger again, but since word spread, she opted for now.
“Come!”
She opened the door. “Could I speak with you a minute? I have a meeting with Nell coming up, but I wanted to speak to you first if you have time.”
“All right, come in, sit. It gives me a chance to tell you Mick and I are very pleased.”
“Thank you, thank you for that. But more, I want to thank you … I had a very coherent and heartfelt speech. I practiced. But it’s just gone. I can’t tell you what it means to me that you’d trust me with the ring Mick gave you. The one you’ve worn all this time. I promise you I’ll cherish it, and I’ll do everything I can to be a good partner to Miles.”
“He wouldn’t have asked me for the ring if I couldn’t trust you. I wouldn’t have given it so willingly if I didn’t know you’d cherish him.”
“I will. I do. The ring’s magic. That sounds silly, but—”
“It doesn’t.” Lydia’s signature red lips curved in a warm, warm smile. “Not to me. And it makes me very happy knowing you’ll wear it, since you feel that, too. The Nashes and the Jamesons. I find I’m not surprised. Your grandmother and I are going to have a great deal of fun harassing you and Miles over your wedding plans. I asked, and he told me you plan to stay, managing Après.”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll be expected at the September family meeting, with a report. Nell can help you with the basic procedure.”
“I’ll be there.” She rose. “Thank you, for everything.”
“Come see me once the ring’s sized. I’d like to see it on you.”
“I will.”
“Oh, and Morgan, I liked that you brought out the Fiestaware, and the clever folds of the napkins. Little details make a home. You’ve already started.”