“Nothing.” Nash, the brother just above her in the Winter family pecking order, was driving her back to Ryker, as her father said her car needed a tune up and he would get it done and return it tomorrow. Maggs didn’t argue; her father would simply have taken her keys if she hadn’t agreed.
It had been wonderful to see her family again. She’d sat in the big, comfortable kitchen with her elder brother, Ford, Nash, Mom and Dad and listened as they’d told her about what had been happening in their lives over the last few years. She’d also told them about her adventure, but not all of it.
“I know you well enough to know when something is off.”
Maggs didn’t play favorites, but Nash held a special place in her heart. Even when he’d grown up and become way cooler than her—his words—he’d still let her tag along with him and his friends, because image wasn’t a big deal to Nash.
He was four years older, and Ford eight. They had tended to try and control her, but while Nash could be controlling, he was also a friend.
“Tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Nothing. I feel great, actually. A bit tired, but slowly getting my bearings. I’ve been back at the gallery, and there’s things I want to do there, and I’m excited about that. Things I learned in London.”
London really was a dark place inside her, and that wasn’t fair. Most of her time there had been fun and enlightening. She’d studied art and painted. Maggs loved painting; she just rarely had the time to do any. It had been a dream to go to art school, then work in the gallery on weekends.
For a while she’d thought that maybe it suited her, the London lifestyle, but that had soon changed as she’d felt the pangs of homesickness. Ryker Falls held her heart and always would.
“So about what happened when you were over there. The shooting incident.”
Stay calm.
“It’s my take that there was more to that. I wanted to get on a plane and come to you, but we all decided you’d ask if you wanted that. Were we right, Tigger?”
“You were right. I was fine.” She’d have completely fallen apart if her brother had arrived.
Nash was big, strong, and stubborn. Women didn’t fall all over themselves to get close to him like they did with Ford. He had a fierce frown and refused to be anything other than himself. In fact, there were no soft edges to this brother unless you knew where to find them.
“I didn’t want you to drop everything when there was no need to.”
She lifted her hand and resettled her sunglasses. Nash shot her a look, then slammed on the brakes right there in the middle of the road.
“What the hell is that?” He grabbed her hand and pushed up her sleeve.
“Nothing.” She’d known they’d see it sooner or later; her hope had been for later, when she’d worked out what to say.
“Don’t give me that crap.” His eyes studied the long, angry line that ran up the inside of her forearm like Fin had earlier. “That is not nothing!”
“Calm down, Nash.”
He released her to stare out the windscreen.
“You never hid things from me, Maggie. I usually knew what you were thinking before you did.”
Suddenly, the reasons she convinced herself were good ones for not telling people about what had happened to her didn’t seem good anymore. In fact, she felt guilty and just plain wrong for keeping her secrets now. In London, with no friends or family around, she’d made her decisions, but here it was different. These people knew her well. Loved her, as she loved them. Her guilt grew.
“Can we just say I’ve changed and move on?”
He gave her a quick look. “You really think I’m the type to do that? Just move on and not question why my baby sister has changed? What happened to your arm?”
“I got it in the shooting. It was from a glass.” She could tell him that much.
“You said you weren’t hurt.”
“As you can see, maybe that wasn’t entirely the truth.”
“What else are you not telling me?”
“Nothing. Now let it go, Nash. It’s the first time I’ve seen you in two years, so stop growling like a bear.”
