'Til Death (A Rebel Ridge Novel) (10 page)

Instead of letting it take up space in the shelter, he had
removed the old iron door and built a ten-by-ten room in front of it. He added a
shower stall and toilet, along with a washer and dryer, then put a door on the
west side of the new room and used it for the entrance to his place. He had just
hammered the last nail in the lone kitchen shelf, stopping to make sure it was
level. As long as his meager assortment of dishes didn’t slide off, it would
suffice.

He had brought in a small refrigerator a few hours ago, and had
an apartment-size cookstove that ran on propane, as well as a small wood-burning
stove he’d set just inside the old entrance and vented through the new addition.
He’d bought a couple of small cabinets from a used-furniture store in Mount
Sterling to use for kitchen storage, and a long narrow table instead of
countertops to serve dual purpose. In a short space of time he’d transformed the
dark, dirty shelter into a warm, cozy place to winter.

He’d built his own bed frame at the far end of the room, and
laid two regular-size mattresses end to end to accommodate his size and height.
He had an old dresser and a portable rack for his clothes, and a recliner and a
floor lamp for the seating area, with a red-and-brown braided rug on the floor
between the recliner and his flat-screen TV.

Even if it was a snug fit for a man his size, the good feeling
he got from knowing he was now living on the land that had been in his family
for five generations lifted his spirit.

His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since
early morning. There was food in his travel trailer, and as soon as his
refrigerator cooled off overnight he would move it all inside. But tonight he
was sleeping and eating in here, and he couldn’t wait.

The fire burning in the woodstove by the door was heating the
place just fine. He washed his hands at the kitchen sink, satisfied with how
quickly the water drained, and was on his way out to get food when he saw a car
driving up.

* * *

Meg had gone home the day after the wreck. Once her
family got past the fact that she’d come out of a scary situation with very few
injuries they’d backed off and let her recuperate on her own. Ryal had been
noticeably silent. Although it was unlike him, it was a relief. However, she
knew the day was coming when they would all find out who her rescuer had
been.

She’d been at the mercy of family for food and errands as she
waited for her insurance to settle up. When the money came through, Dolly took
her to Mount Sterling to look at cars. Meg knew what she needed, and she knew
how much she had to spend, which made the decision fairly simple. Once she found
what she wanted and the dealership began the paperwork, Dolly left. A short
while later, Meg drove home on her own.

Once she returned, she began counting up how many finished
quilts she had and thinking about the annual quilt show she participated in
every year. It opened the day after Thanksgiving and provided a large part of
her yearly income.

When she went to bed that night, with Honey on a rug beside her
bed, it didn’t take her long to fall asleep. Between the security Quinn had
added to the place and knowing Linc was but a short distance away, she felt
safe.

She woke up the next morning with one thought in mind: to see
Lincoln Fox. Considering what he’d done for her, it was the neighborly thing to
do.

But knowing she
could
go didn’t
mean she had the guts to do it. It took another day before she got up the nerve
and, even then, she went bearing gifts.

* * *

Meg was sick to her stomach with nerves as she drove up
to where the old house used to stand. When she saw Linc walk out from what
looked like a new shed, her heart skipped a beat.

She’d seen him in the dark with a fur-lined parka over his
head, and she’d seen him in the shadows of her room, but this was the first time
she was seeing him in the bright light of day, and there was no way to describe
him without a hitch in her breath.

The tall, gangly boy she’d known had grown into a giant, and a
good-looking one at that. Strong arms, long legs, shoulders wide enough for two
men, and only a hint of silver in his thick, dark hair. The thought went through
her mind that it was a good thing he was big and strong, because he’d come home
with a heavy burden to shed.

She took a deep breath, killed the engine and got out.

“See you got yourself a new car,” he said, eyeing the shiny
chrome on the silver SUV.

She nodded. “It’s a 2007, but new to me, and it runs well,
which is all that matters.”

He eyed the healing cut at the edge of her hairline.

“How’s your head?”

She shifted nervously from one foot to the other and then stuck
her hands in her coat pockets to keep them warm. “It’s good. I hope you don’t
mind that I just dropped in like this.”

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he noticed a muscle tick at
the corner of her eye. Damn it to hell, she was scared. He didn’t know whether
to be hurt or mad, but either way, he couldn’t let it show.

“I don’t mind at all, and you’re way prettier than the
sheriff.”

Meg smiled, a little embarrassed by the compliment, and then
she remembered why she’d come, moved back to the car and got a big garbage bag
out of the backseat.

“This is for you,” she said, handing it over. “It’s part
thank-you for saving me and part housewarming gift.”

Linc smiled. “I can’t remember the last time someone gave me a
present. Come inside where’s it warm while I open this. I want to show you what
I’ve been doing.”

When she hesitated, he remembered the fear on her face and
thought she was uneasy about going inside with him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t apologize,” she said. “I’m the one being stupid. Truth
is, I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?” he asked.

“Pretend I’m not attracted to you. Pretend you’re not attracted
to me.”

Pain for what they’d lost rolled through him in a long,
continuous wave, then it passed, leaving him weak and wanting.

“Hey...I never was any good at pretending, either, so why don’t
we just admit it’s there and let it grow or die at its own pace?”

Relieved, she nodded.

“So come and see,” he said, and led the way inside.

Eight

M
eg was surprised, and then entranced by
Linc’s ingenuity. What she’d thought was just a shed was actually a
well-insulated utility room and entryway leading into the shelter. She followed
him inside. The woodstove was just to her right, putting out heat, and she held
her hands to it, briefly warming them as she eyed the rest of the room.

“Linc! This is amazing! You’re really good at this.”

He shrugged. “It’s what I do for a living.”

“Construction? There’s definitely a need for remodeling and new
housing here, but no money to build it. You won’t get much business.”

“It doesn’t have to be here to be viable,” he said. “I have a
construction company in Dallas. It’s not hard to run a business like that
long-distance when you have a good people working for you.”

She eyed him curiously. “You have all that and yet you still
came back. Why now, Linc?”

There was only one way to explain, but she would have to see to
believe. He set down the package, took off his coat and started unbuttoning his
shirt.

“Wait!” Meg said. “I didn’t—”

“It’s not what you think,” Linc said as he undid the last
button and dropped the shirt on the table.

Meg gasped. The scars on his chest were indescribable.

“There are more on the bottoms of my feet where it exited my
body.”

“Lincoln! Oh, my God! What happened to you?”

“I was electrocuted. It was a freak on-the-job accident. I was
dead for four minutes before they resuscitated me. I have no memory of anything
except waking up in the hospital, burned.”

Her eyes welled. “When did this happen?”

“About six months ago. During the time I was healing, I kept
having the same dream of my dad telling me to go home. I finally accepted it was
the reason I’d come back from the dead. I was supposed to find out who really
killed him and clear my name. It took a while to get well, and then a little
longer to get everything lined up with my crews, but once it was done, I headed
for Kentucky...and...well...here I am.”

Meg kept staring at the scarring, imagining the pain he’d gone
through. “I don’t know what to say.”

He picked up his shirt. “I’d take a simple ‘welcome home’ and
be grateful.”

She took a deep shaky breath. “Welcome home, Lincoln.”

“Thanks,” he said, then eyed the package. “Okay if I open this
now?”

She nodded.

He untied the knot in the bag and then pushed the edges aside,
revealing the blue-and-white quilt within. He carefully pulled it out, then ran
his hand over the surface, tracing the tiny stitches on one of the blocks with
the tip of his finger.

“Meg! Oh, wow! This is beautiful.”

“Thanks. I just finished it a few days ago.”

Surprise was evident in his voice. “You made this?”

“You build houses. I make quilts.”

“To sell?”

She shrugged. “It’s not much, but I don’t need much. It’s how I
support myself.”

“This is absolutely stunning. I know this was meant to keep me
warm, but it’s also going to become my new bedspread. It’s too pretty to cover
up. I didn’t have a bedspread, but I do now.”

He took it to the back of the room, and spread it over the
sheets and blankets, but he didn’t get the full effect of the pattern until it
was completely unfolded.

“Meg! This is amazing! It looks like it’s in motion.”

She smiled, pleased that he appreciated her skill.

“I found the pattern in my grandma Foster’s old trunk. It’s the
first time I’ve made one like this. It’s called Storm at Sea.”

Linc looked back at the quilt, seeing the waves and motion
built into the fabric with color and print. “Yes, I see it.” The corner of his
mouth tilted wryly. “And it’s an apt choice, considering what’s ahead of
me.”

She frowned. “I didn’t think of it like that. If you’d rather
have—”

He stopped her with a touch. “Don’t even think it. This is
perfect, and—amazingly—long enough for my oversize bed.”

Meg looked back at the bed, marveling at the size. “It’s a good
thing I always make my quilts extralong. How did you find a bed that big?”

He grinned. “Oh, they don’t sell beds like that. I made the
frame, then put two mattresses end to end.”

“Good Lord! And Mama thought she had it bad raising all of us
long-legged Walkers. No telling how big your children will—”

She realized what she was saying too late to take it back and
looked down at the floor. She was too close to him, and the bed was too close to
them both, and she didn’t know what she wanted more, to strip or run.

Linc wanted her in his arms. Instead, he held his ground.
Saying anything at this point would make everything worse.

“I think it’s time for me to go. I’ve already outstayed my
welcome,” she said, and headed for the door.

“Meg!”

She stopped, but wouldn’t look at him.

“You’re wrong,” Linc said. “You’ll never outstay your welcome
with me.”

The urge to turn around was so strong that she was shaking, but
she kept walking. By the time she got outside, she was running. She jumped in
her car and drove away—knowing no matter how fast she drove, or how far she
went, she would never get far enough to make the longing go away.

* * *

Prince had been lying low in first one no-tell motel and
then another, never staying in one place too long for fear the cops would find
him, but he’d run into an inevitable hitch. He was down to his last thirty
dollars, and since Fagan had balked at helping him, short of pulling a
heist—which wasn’t a good idea, considering he’d pawned his pistol for the money
in his pocket—he was about to hit up another sibling for dough.

It was just after daybreak when he left his motel room. The sky
was overcast and gray, the day already cold and, from the looks of the weather,
bound to get colder. He just hoped it didn’t snow again. It took several tries
before his truck would start. When the engine finally turned over, he breathed a
sigh of relief. He couldn’t be broke
and
afoot. The
cops would find him for sure.

Even though he knew his sister’s address he’d never been to her
house, but he intended to pay her a visit as soon as he got himself some
food.

He stopped at a quick stop, picked up a couple of sausage-egg
biscuits from the deli counter and a large coffee, then went back to his truck
to eat. He kept one eye on the clock and another on the people going in and out
of the store, and was down to his last few bites when a police cruiser drove up.
Just seeing the black-and-white turned his stomach. He washed down the food in
his mouth with a big gulp of coffee and drove away.

It took him nearly fifteen minutes to find the gated community
in which Lucy lived, then another five before he located her house. He parked a
few houses down to wait until her husband, Wes, left for work. As he sat, he
thought about the buried money and how he could get to Meg to make her talk.

His first mistake had been in fucking with her—moving her stuff
around, letting the cow out, then those damned flowers he had intended to leave
on her kitchen table just to freak her out a little more before he made his
move. Who knew something as simple as a squeaking floorboard could have given
him away, or that she was as good a shot as her brothers? Looking back, he
should have just gone to her house with some made-up story about Bobby Lewis
telling her he was sorry for all he’d done to cause her trouble, then struck up
a conversation with her and found out what he needed to know without all the
other drama.

But the truth was, he had wanted to get in her pants. His daddy
used to tell him his dick was going to get him in trouble one day, only Daddy
had meant that Prince would most likely wind up running from some girl’s
pissed-off father, not running from the law.

He upped the fan power on the heater, wishing he had more
coffee to warm his belly, too, when he realized Lucy’s garage door was going up.
Wes was finally leaving for work. Prince’s eyes narrowed, watching as a shiny
black Lincoln came backing out of the garage and down the driveway into the
street. Wesley Duggan owned a car dealership in Mount Sterling and drove nothing
but the best. Lucy should be good for several thousand, for sure. Prince slumped
a little farther down in the seat as Wes drove past, and as soon as the car was
no longer in sight, Prince pulled up into her driveway. He rang the doorbell
several times and then began knocking loudly until he got results.

When his sister finally came to the door, the shock on her face
was worth the wait. He grinned. Lucy was still in her robe and nightgown, and
her hair was all flat on one side, like she’d just gotten out of bed. She looked
like she was going to faint.

“Hello, sister. What’s the matter? Aren’t you gonna ask me
in?”

Lucy pulled her robe tighter beneath her neck against the
cold.

“What are you doing here?”

“Why, I was just in the neighborhood and stopped to pay my
respects.”

She gave a quick look up and down the street, then grabbed his
arm and yanked him inside, out of sight.

“I smell coffee. How about you pour me a cup while we talk?” he
said.

“Yeah, well, I smell shit. How about you clean your shoes next
time before you step into my house?”

He glared. “Damn it, Lucy White! You come out of the same
woman’s belly as I did, so don’t pull this high-and-mighty attitude with me. You
don’t want to be neighborly? Fine. You want me gone? It’ll cost you five
thousand.”

She gasped. “Dollars?”

Prince rubbed his thumb and forefinger together under her nose
in a “pay up” gesture. When Lucy slapped it away, he laughed.

“That don’t change a damn thing. I need some money, sister
dear, and I need it fast.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What have you done?”

“That ain’t none of your business.”

She drew back her hand and slapped him. Hard. Within seconds
she was in his face and pushing him backward toward the door.

“Just because I live in a nice house with a good, decent man
doesn’t mean I forgot how to fight back. You don’t come into my house and
threaten me. You don’t come into my house and expect to blackmail me just to get
you off my back. If I want you gone bad enough, I’ll shoot you dead where you
stand and tell the cops you were breaking into my house, that I didn’t know it
was you before I shot. And if you’re wanting money that bad, then I’m guessing
the cops are already after you and will thank me for ridding them of your sorry
ass.”

Prince’s belly rolled. This was the Lucy he remembered, and he
knew she was fully capable of what she’d threatened. He decided it was time to
try another tack.

“Oh hell, Lucy, calm down. I need some money to lie low and I
thought you’d be good for some. Don’t worry. I’ll just find a liquor store and
pull a heist, and hope I don’t get caught. Course, if I do, people might find
out that your worthless brother robbed a liquor store, and then where would you
be?”

Lucy wanted to scream, but he’d found her weakness. She’d spent
her whole life trying to live down where she’d come from, and with one visit
Prince could bring it all down around her head.

“I’ll give you what cash I have and you’ll have to be happy
with that,” she muttered.

“Depending on how much it is, it’s a deal. But if you’re short
on cash, then I’m gonna be short on cash, and that heist becomes a viable
possibility.”

“I’ll get my purse,” she said, and when he went to follow her,
she turned and pointed. “Stay there and don’t touch anything! You hear?”

He grinned. “Yes, I hear just fine.”

She ran out of the room and came back seconds later carrying a
large brown purse.

Prince saw it and frowned. “That’s one of them Coach purses. I
know for a fact they cost a pretty penny, so you better have some cash money in
it or you and me will be making a trip to your bank.”

Lucy took out her wallet, grabbed all the paper money in it and
flung it in his face.

“There,” she screamed. “It’s over six hundred dollars. If you
can’t make do on that, I’ll call the cops on you myself and the consequences be
damned.”

He frowned again. He’d pushed her too far. He got down on his
knees and picked up all the cash, stuffed it in his pocket and headed for the
door.

“And don’t come back!” she screamed.

He slammed the door shut behind him and kept moving.

Inside, Lucy Duggan fell to her knees, then threw back her head
and screamed. She’d tried hard—so hard—to keep her name above reproach, but as
long as one member of her family still lived, it seemed that goal would forever
be in jeopardy.

As she started to get up, she noticed a single dollar had
fallen under the edge of the sofa. She crawled over on her knees and picked it
up, then got up and put it back in her wallet. At least the son of a bitch
didn’t get it all. She started to go to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, then
turned around and went to the wet bar, poured herself a whiskey, neat, and
downed it in one gulp. It burned good all the way down, so to be on the safe
side she poured herself another one and knocked it back as quick as the
first.

* * *

Linc woke abruptly just as his daddy was about to
whisper the name of his killer in his ear. He sat up with a groan, his daddy
nowhere in sight. He grabbed the TV remote and turned on the flat-screen, then
lay back and flipped through channels until he found a weather report in
progress. According to the forecaster, there was another storm front coming
through the area, but this time without snow. He was thankful he’d finished
construction and already moved in. Wintering in the travel trailer would have
been a cold, miserable prospect. He started to throw back the covers, then
stopped and ran his hand over the surface of the quilt Meg had given him.
Knowing he’d slept beneath something she’d made gave him hope that one day he
would be sleeping with her, as well.