longer,” she said quietly. “He really is recovering remarkably fast. Sooner or later, it won’t matter if his memory has returned or not. He’ll simply leave out of the pure frustration of not knowing what to do.”
Cagney looked at her for a moment, then gave in to his impulse to tell her everything. “I heard from Mitch,” he said abruptly. “He did some minor checking from the road. Garret’s considered AWOL.”
Suzanne’s eyes opened wide. “Garret would never desert. He just wouldn’t.”
Cagney nodded his head. “I know, I know. He would never deliberately desert. But let’s face it, Suzanne, he came here covertly. Obviously, they don’t know where he is.”
“Do you think maybe he should contact someone?”
Cagney frowned, his face looking troubled once more. “I don’t know, to tell you the truth. But Garret always did have uncanny instincts. I used to think both he and Mitch were throwbacks to the old warriors. Mitch always knows when something bad is about to happen, and Garret…Garret just seems to know what to do. Think about it. He was shot in the back. Most people would have gone straight to the hospital, and most men back to their unit. Garret came here, told us to tell no one and ordered Mitch out of D.C. Until he remembers more, I think we have to trust that.”
Suzanne nodded, but her face was as troubled as his own. “How’s Jessica?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Eight months pregnant with twins, so she’s mad as hell to be on the road. Mitch says she’s going along with it for now, but if Garret had them leave for no good reason in the end, she’ll skin him alive. Hmm. That could be interesting. The Ice Angel taking on Garret.”
Suzanne gave him an exasperated look. “I’m sure Garret had them leave for a very good reason;” she insisted. “So you’ll get the tools?” she prodded, returning to the original subject.
Cagney nodded. “I’ll see what I can work out. Most likely I can bring them over this afternoon. I’ll try to stop by the lumberyard as well. Maybe we can figure out something constructive for Garret to do rather than eat all your food.”
Suzanne’s mind unwittingly flashed to what other activities Garret had been doing, and she felt her cheeks flush. “Fine,” she squeaked, and immediately headed for the door. If she blushed much darker, Cagney wouldn’t need her to say a word to know what was going on. And she’d just as soon keep her foolishness to herself.
Maybe she had been living alone for too long, and that made her, well, susceptible to Garret. But she was over that now. The efficient Suzanne was back. She’d gotten up first thing this morning and called Cagney to get something worked out. Now Garret would work in the shed, and she’d have her house back. It was exactly what she wanted.
She marched primly to the door, ignoring the small flutter of disappointment in her stomach.
“Just come over when you have the tools,” she called over her shoulder as she opened the door.
“Will do. And Suzanne, it’ll take more than a hobby to keep that whisker burn off your neck.”
Her cheeks turned positively scarlet, but she didn’t say a word. Not even when she slammed the door on Cagney’s droll gaze.
Her house still looked like her house when she pulled her old Ford back into the driveway. The wraparound porch was becoming warped in places but could probably survive another year before being replaced. The white paint at least looked good; she’d awakened the morning after her mother’s funeral to find her fellow church members on her front porch, armed with paintbrushes and pails of fresh paint. After the strain of the past few years, their actions had brought tears to her eyes. Now, every three years, they all reappeared on her lawn, ready to help yet again. When she died, she would leave the house to the church. Rachel didn’t want anything to do with Maddensfield, and there were no other Montgomerys left.
She
Cagney looked at her for a moment, then gave in to his impulse to tell her everything. “I heard from Mitch,” he said abruptly. “He did some minor checking from the road. Garret’s considered AWOL.”
Suzanne’s eyes opened wide. “Garret would never desert. He just wouldn’t.”
Cagney nodded his head. “I know, I know. He would never deliberately desert. But let’s face it, Suzanne, he came here covertly. Obviously, they don’t know where he is.”
“Do you think maybe he should contact someone?”
Cagney frowned, his face looking troubled once more. “I don’t know, to tell you the truth. But Garret always did have uncanny instincts. I used to think both he and Mitch were throwbacks to the old warriors. Mitch always knows when something bad is about to happen, and Garret…Garret just seems to know what to do. Think about it. He was shot in the back. Most people would have gone straight to the hospital, and most men back to their unit. Garret came here, told us to tell no one and ordered Mitch out of D.C. Until he remembers more, I think we have to trust that.”
Suzanne nodded, but her face was as troubled as his own. “How’s Jessica?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Eight months pregnant with twins, so she’s mad as hell to be on the road. Mitch says she’s going along with it for now, but if Garret had them leave for no good reason in the end, she’ll skin him alive. Hmm. That could be interesting. The Ice Angel taking on Garret.”
Suzanne gave him an exasperated look. “I’m sure Garret had them leave for a very good reason;” she insisted. “So you’ll get the tools?” she prodded, returning to the original subject.
Cagney nodded. “I’ll see what I can work out. Most likely I can bring them over this afternoon. I’ll try to stop by the lumberyard as well. Maybe we can figure out something constructive for Garret to do rather than eat all your food.”
Suzanne’s mind unwittingly flashed to what other activities Garret had been doing, and she felt her cheeks flush. “Fine,” she squeaked, and immediately headed for the door. If she blushed much darker, Cagney wouldn’t need her to say a word to know what was going on. And she’d just as soon keep her foolishness to herself.
Maybe she had been living alone for too long, and that made her, well, susceptible to Garret. But she was over that now. The efficient Suzanne was back. She’d gotten up first thing this morning and called Cagney to get something worked out. Now Garret would work in the shed, and she’d have her house back. It was exactly what she wanted.
She marched primly to the door, ignoring the small flutter of disappointment in her stomach.
“Just come over when you have the tools,” she called over her shoulder as she opened the door.
“Will do. And Suzanne, it’ll take more than a hobby to keep that whisker burn off your neck.”
Her cheeks turned positively scarlet, but she didn’t say a word. Not even when she slammed the door on Cagney’s droll gaze.
Her house still looked like her house when she pulled her old Ford back into the driveway. The wraparound porch was becoming warped in places but could probably survive another year before being replaced. The white paint at least looked good; she’d awakened the morning after her mother’s funeral to find her fellow church members on her front porch, armed with paintbrushes and pails of fresh paint. After the strain of the past few years, their actions had brought tears to her eyes. Now, every three years, they all reappeared on her lawn, ready to help yet again. When she died, she would leave the house to the church. Rachel didn’t want anything to do with Maddensfield, and there were no other Montgomerys left.
She
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