Mint Juleps and Justice (12 page)

Trying to lighten the mood by changing the subject, Brooke asked, “How did y’all come up with the name ‘Painted Prairies’ for the farm?”

“It was a combination of the paint horses they breed here, and the fact that there are three cottages over on the top of the other hill. Each has a different-color tin roof.”

She peered in the direction he was pointing. “You can’t see the cottages from here?”

“Only from upstairs. You can see the whole property from the second-story balcony. I’ll show you later if you like. It’s the perfect spot for stargazing. If you like that sort of thing.”

“I do. I love watching for shooting stars.”
Because I can use all the good luck I can get.

“Mike never stays up here at the house. He always stays in the blue cottage. You’ll love it. It isn’t decorated like the house. It’s more ‘rustic lodge.’ Mike decorated the blue cottage. It was the last thing he did before he joined the Marines. Just wait until you see it.”

“He doesn’t seem the decorator type. This should be interesting.” She spun around at the clang of the empty trailer against the dirt road that let them know Mike was headed back to the house.

An hour later dinner was served family-style on colorfully painted farm-style tabletops that lined the long dining room for a few neighbors, Jack, Rick, and them. Local pottery heaped with veggies, mashed potatoes, and breads made the rounds, while Jack carved beef tenderloin with white country gravy. To top it all off, blackberry cobbler was served over homemade ice cream.

“I’m stuffed,” Mike declared as he pushed back from the table without touching his dessert.

“Do you mind if we skip dessert and head down to the cottage?”

“Not at all.” He held her chair as she placed her cloth napkin on the table.

“We’re going to call it a night, guys.” Mike led Brooke by the elbow around the long table toward the side door.

“Everything was wonderful. Thank you so much,” Brooke said. “Can I help clear the dishes before we leave or anything?”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got this,” Rick said. “Y’all sleep well. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night,” Jack said.

Mike slapped Rick on the back as they walked by on the way out. It was pitch-black outside. Brooke blinked, hoping her eyes would adjust quickly. He’d promised separate rooms. She hoped she wasn’t getting ready to be surprised.

CHAPTER TWENTY

B
rooke followed Mike down the porch and was pulling the passenger door of the truck open before she realized Mike wasn’t right behind her. “I thought you said we were going to the cottage.”

“I wondered where you were headed. We can just follow the lighted trail. It’s just down the hill a little ways.”

“What about our stuff?”

“I dropped it off earlier and opened the place up.”

“Oh.” She felt nervous about walking down the dark path. Not because of Mike, she trusted him, but her insides were churning with the memories of being in college when the police were looking for the Goto killer. To think that Rick’s sister, Mike’s wife, had been one of the victims…even just the thought made it hard to breathe. Trying to act nonchalant, she said, “You’re not going to whip out your Boy Scout sash of badges next, are you?”

“Would it impress you?”

He’d already impressed her. Fear stacked on top of all the stuff from Mike’s past that Rick had shared with her were throwing her emotions into turmoil. “You don’t have to impress me.”

“Come on.”

She hesitated.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She pressed her lips together and looked toward the path and then back at Mike. “I’m feeling some anxiety about walking through the woods. I didn’t used to be such a fraidy cat. I know it’s silly, but—”

“Come on. You’re safe with me.” He held a hand out toward her. “I promise.”

She stepped forward and took his hand.

His thumb rubbed the smooth skin on top. “You okay?”

His touch subdued the fear, but amped the sadness she felt for what he’d been through. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how that scarred someone. “Yeah. I’m good.” She pulled her hands up around his bicep and let him lead her down the path.

The night air was cooler compared to the hot day, and the darkness was alive with chirping crickets and frogs.

Mike stopped as they cleared the tree line. “Listen,” he whispered, stopping her in her tracks.

“What?” Her heart started to beat a little quicker. She was thinking bears, or scary critters. “I don’t hear anything,” she whispered.

“Exactly.” He pulled her in front of him and rested his chin on top of her head. She leaned back into his embrace. “Isn’t it great?” He wrapped both arms around her.

“Oh?”

“Look.” Mike pointed out ahead of them.

“At what?” she whispered back.

“Lightning bugs. Everywhere.”

“I love fireflies!” Brooke’s eyes were still adjusting to the darkness, but he was right. Now that she looked closer, there was a light show going on and it was all natural. “There must be millions of them.”

“A million you almost walked right by,” he teased.

She sputtered and laughed. “You’re right. I really didn’t notice a thing.” Her mind was miles away…or years away in the past.

“Sometimes you just have to slow down and enjoy what’s right in front of you.”

She knew he was talking about the frogs and the lightning bugs, but how many other things was she missing, like this great guy standing right behind her?

“It’s a free laser light show,” he said.

“You’re right. It looks choreographed.” Brooke leaned into Mike’s arm, her chin skyward. “The stars seem so close. It looks like they fell from the sky and landed in the yard.”

“Your senses really come alive out here, don’t they? Seeing, smelling, feeling, hearing…touching.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.

She nuzzled against his hand.

He turned her around to face him. Pushing her hair back from her face, his thumb skimmed her lip.

She pulled away, changing the subject back to the safe topic of lightning bugs. “I almost hate to admit this, but when I was a little girl we would collect lightning bugs off the big hedges around our house and put them in a jar. At night, we would pluck the little lights right off their butts and make jewelry. You know, diamond rings and earrings.” She pushed her hair behind one ear.

Mike stared down at her with a lopsided grin. “I just can’t picture you pinching lights off lightnin’ bugs.”

“Don’t try to tell me you never did anything like that?”

“Never.”

“Liar.”

“We never made jewelry. We made war paint.”

“War paint?”

“Yeah, we’d smear the fluorescence on our cheeks like war paint.” He ran his finger down her cheek.

“Stop it,” she said with a laugh, only there wasn’t anything funny about the tingling that he’d just set off on her from head to toe.

Mike let his arm rest easily across her shoulders. “Want to make some new memories?”

“Maybe,” she whispered. Her mind was reeling. She knew what she wanted, but she knew she’d promised herself she wouldn’t go there again. She swallowed and looked to the stars. What the heck was she supposed to do with this mixed-up heart of hers? Just as she looked to the sky for an answer, she got one. She broke the silence with a squeal. “A shooting star, good luck! Did you see it?”

“I saw it. Did you wish on it?”

“Of course.” She was relieved by the lucky sign. She must be in the right place after all. “Thank you, Mike.”

He tilted his head down toward hers. “For what?”

“This. I feel so relaxed. This place.” She held her arms out. “This wonderful place. Thanks for sharing all of this with me. I feel very lucky.”

“I’m glad you like it. C’mon, I want you to see the cottage.”

She stood her ground.

“What’s the matter?”

She took his hand in both of hers. “Mike. I’m really sorry about your wife.”

His smile disappeared. “Rick told you?”

She nodded. “You must miss her.”

“She was my wife. Of course I miss her.” He stepped forward. “You’ve been married. You know you can’t just make the past disappear.”

“Mine’s different,” she said. “I’d like mine to disappear. I’ll settle for the divorce, though.”

“But my marriage was a long time ago.”

“He said you’ve carried a lot of unnecessary guilt.”

He let out a choked sound. “He never blamed me, but I know if I’d have been there, it wouldn’t have happened. No shrink, no one, will ever convince me otherwise.” He sucked in an audible breath. “But it was a long time ago. Being with you has made me feel something I haven’t felt in a long time.” He placed his hands against her face, stroking her jawline. “This is now and tomorrow.” He kissed her. “And the day after that.” He kissed her again. “And as soon as we get that crazy ex out of the way.”

She laughed at that.

“Now are you ready to see the cottage and drop all this downer talk?”

“Yes.” She let out a breath. “I just didn’t want to have a secret.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.”

She stepped up next to him and hugged his arm. “So, rumor has it that not only did you design this place, but you decorated it too.”

“Rick doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut,” Mike said.

Mike led Brooke up the steps, then stopped.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing. Everything’s fine. Come here and close your eyes.” He placed cupped hands over her eyes.

“Why?” Her hands flew to his.

“Because I asked you to,” he whispered into her ear. His warm breath tickled.

She relaxed under his hands, letting him guide her. “I suppose you always get what you want, don’t you?”

“Most of the time.”

“Figures.”

“Like you don’t?” Mike stepped up right behind her, his body lined up right behind hers, holding her tight against him again. “Walk with me. Keep your eyes closed. Left foot.” They started to walk, one step at a time, and Brooke giggled, but followed along. She felt completely safe in his grip. She’d never felt that way with anyone, not even in the good days with Keith.

One of Mike’s hands left her face, but even peeking it was so dark she couldn’t see anything, so she closed her eyes and went along with it. He leaned forward, and she heard the door knob turn and the front door of the cottage swing in with a creak. Air-conditioning rushed against her skin as they stepped through the threshold. “I’m going to move my hands. Keep your eyes shut, and stay right there.”

“What are you doing?”

“Just a second.”

She heard him moving around the room. She stood still in the darkness, excited by the mystery of it all. A moment later, his hands were back on her face, cupping her cheeks, one thumb playing over her lips.

Her breath caught and her heart raced. “Can I…” she started to ask, but before she could finish the sentence his mouth was on hers, and the warmest, most passionate kiss was taking hold of her. Her knees wobbled, and she wondered if she might fall.

Mike pulled away. “Now you can look.”

She blinked, taking a moment for her eyes to adjust and her knees to regain control of her stance. Candles glowed along a rough-cut wood mantel, and an arch of candles flickered in the floor-to-ceiling fireplace.

She scanned the room, surprised at the size of it. The furniture was heavy and leather. A bearskin rug sprawled in front of the flagstone fireplace. In the far corner more candles were lit behind a glass block wall. “What’s back there?”

“The bathroom. Claw-foot tub and all.”

“Ooooh, I love those.” She walked in a small circle, trying to take it all in. “This is amazing. I’m not sure what I expected, but this is wonderful.”
Like a dream. One I’ve had often.

“I know.” In one quick sweep Mike had her off her feet and in his arms.

Brooke squealed with surprise, “Put me down!” She slapped his shoulders playfully. “Why did you do that?”

“Because you’re tiny,” he said. “Because I can, and it makes me feel manly.” There was no arguing that, so she let Mike carry her to the back of the cottage to the glass-blocked bathroom. He lowered her onto an antique trunk, then stepped back and lit two lanterns that hung gracefully from the corners of the room. They brought a lot of light to the bathroom. He flipped the old-style porcelain hot and cold knobs on and the water started rushing into the old tub. Mike lifted the lid on a large glass cookie jar. The smell of rose petals and fresh lavender permeated the air. He scooped a handful of the dark and scented leaves and tossed them into the running water.

“For me?”

“Enjoy. There’s a robe behind the door. I’ll be in the living room. Take your time.”

“Perfect.” She stood on tippy-toes and put her arms around his neck. “This is very nice. I’m glad I came with you.”

“I’m glad you came too.” His eyes locked with hers for a long moment. “I need to get out of here. Enjoy your bath, and don’t worry about saving hot water for me.”

She giggled as he walked out of the room. “Aren’t you too sweet?” She could see his silhouette through the glass block as he went back to the living room.

Mike answered as he continued to move through the living room, “Not really. I have a feeling I’m going to need a cold shower. You’re making me crazy.”

She caught her reflection in a full-length freestanding oval wooden-framed mirror. She almost didn’t recognize the smiling face in the reflection. She knew she was giving him mixed signals. As much as she didn’t want to be interested, to feel what she was feeling, those butterflies in her stomach weren’t going to let her off the hook so easy. She wondered if he could see her stepping into the tub through the distorted glass, but pushed the worry aside and sank into the deep tub. Brooke soaked until she was pruney and then forced herself to get out of the cooling water. She eased into the plush robe and quietly padded across the candlelit room. “Whew, that was great.” The ends of her hair were damp and curling.

“Good.” Mike toyed with the rolled hem of the heavy robe from his position stretched out on the couch.

“Where’s my stuff? I want to brush my teeth.”

“I put your stuff in the downstairs bedroom on the bed.”

“There’s more than one bedroom?”

A smile spread across Mike’s face. “There’s a loft. See the stairs off the kitchen? Had you worried, huh?”

“Well, I don’t know that I would say worried, but I wondered. Okay, yes. I was worried.”

“Afraid I was going to take advantage of you?” he asked, patting her hand.

She pressed her lips together. “Who says I was afraid?”

Mike looked pleasantly surprised. “I like the sound of that.” Mike stood. “I’m going to go jump in the shower.”

“Can I brush my teeth before you get in there?” she asked.

“There’s another bath off the bedroom. You can unload your stuff in there.”

“This place didn’t look that big from the clearing.”

“It’s full of surprises, like me.”

So I see.
Brooke got as far as the doorway to the bedroom, but the pitch-black room made it hard for her to maneuver. “Hey, Mike?” She yelled from the doorway.

“Yeah.”

“Where’s the light switch? I can’t see a thing.”

“Just clap twice, the lights will come on.”

The clapper?
I hope he’s kidding. Oh, my god. Okay, so now the tacky maleness is showing in the decorating.
She clapped twice. Sure enough, a soft flood of light filled the cozy room. A canopy-style lodgepole bed filled one end of the room. The pristine white duvet, clean and crisp, was in sharp contrast to the burgundy-and-black Western blanket that was casually folded at the footboard.

She unzipped her bag that, like Mike had promised, was on the bed. She retrieved her toiletries and headed for the bathroom, brushing teeth and hair and then trading the robe for her own pajamas. She now regretted bringing the conservative cotton pajamas. When Brooke got back to the living room, she saw the cup of tea Mike had left for her on the wagon-wheel coffee table.

She sipped it slowly, letting it relax her. She noticed his silhouette through the glass block. Even through the distorted glass she could see the wide span of his shoulders and athletic taper. She felt naughty spying on him. She wondered if he had done the same from this very seat when she was in the tub. She grabbed a soft pillow from the end of the couch and snuggled it under her head and chin.

An owl woke her from a dead sleep. She must have drifted off before Mike ever finished showering because she woke up all alone on the couch to the sound of that hoot owl. A matelassé coverlet was tucked around her hips. Thoughtful.