Chapter Twenty-Four
Rhett glared at his desk phone. He’d had to treat a lizard for stomach parasites a few hours ago, an unpleasant business, but this call would be worse. The community foundation had gone radio silent—a bad sign. The idea of groveling to Hogg, hat in hand, sucked, but if it meant securing the shelter’s funding, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do. Time to touch base with the grant officer and get it over sooner rather than later.
Steinbeck barked. Fitz and Faulkner joined in.
“Hey, guys, quiet in the peanut gallery,” Rhett ordered. Was a squirrel taunting them from the window?
“Hello, is this a bad time?” Pepper poked her head in through the open door.
“No!” He leapt up. “Not at all. Come on in.”
The dogs clamored for her attention. She gave them each a quick pat on the head, looking more or less fond. “They’re excited.”
“Must have gotten a wild hair over something.” He suspected it was the same thing making him grin like an idiot—this woman here, in her navy blue sundress with red strappy sandals and toes to match.
“Because I can come back. Or talk to you later or—”
“Shut the door.” He pulled out a seat. “What do you need?”
“Nice place.” She did as he invited while checking out the office. “Very you.”
He glanced at the bookshelves, framed degrees, and photographs. “What’s that mean?”
“Has your vibe, open and bright.”
He lifted his brows. “Bright?”
“Yeah.” She sat, crossed her legs, and regarded him a moment. “You know how sometimes it looks overcast until you go up in a plane, and once you pass through the clouds, the world is blue skies and sunny? That’s what you are, deep down.”
He swallowed the unexpected lump in his throat, but it refused to budge.
“Here’s why I’m here. My sister and I want to win the Village Pillage medallion hunt and the ten thousand dollars.”
“Good luck with that.” He leaned back in his chair, twirling a pen between his fingers. “So does the whole town.”
She jerked a hand to her hip. “Never bet against the Knight sisters when a treasure is on the line. All I know is it’s going to be located near the river. The first clue is ‘a bed you never sleep on’; that’s a riverbed. ‘Something that has a mouth but never talks.’ River again. I’m not sure on the scream part, but I think it will come together after the second clue is released. But if there are obscure references to local history or places, I can’t figure that out alone. Will you help me?”
“Why’s this so important?” Pepper hadn’t expressed a peep of interest in the hunt before now.
“Tuesday has left New York for good. For that to have occurred something terrible happened, she won’t say what. Now she wants a fresh start.” She spoke faster and faster, the way she did when wanting to outrun powerful emotions. “Me too. I am looking for the same, a clerkship somewhere far away from Judge Hogg. The medallion money could get us on our way. We’re thinking Chicago.”
“Chicago? Halfway across the country?” Then what the hell did he want to help for? Helpless anger settled in his gut, growing like a cancer. Three women in his life he had felt something for, and all three had left without him having a fucking say. But look at the hopeful eagerness in her face. Despite a few passing comments, she had been nothing but honest with her intentions of leaving.
He could help her. Sure. Why not? After all, everyone knows good guys finish last.
He pushed up his shirtsleeves and glanced at the ink written on his arm, knowing in an instant what he’d have to do. She might not want to stay, but he’d wavered on the long ago promise he made himself.
Stay true.
He loved that Pepper loved her sister, and while he didn’t believe in any instant love-at-first-sight magic, this was a woman he could come to care deeply about. If he could figure out a way to make her stay. But Dad had inadvertently taught him one last lesson: you could never make a person choose a future they don’t want.
He had a choice. He could put himself out there. To hell with the Isthmus, he’d build a goddamn suspension bridge to his island and set the speed limit to seventy. This was his chance. To offer himself. Take it or leave it.
“You ever been sailing?” Buccaneers Marina was ten minutes from downtown Everland. A few locals lived down there full time in a small houseboat community. They’d be spotted. But fuck it, go big or go home.
“Sail?” Her eyes widened. “My sister is afraid of the water.”
“Why?”
