Mariah Stewart - Coming Home

Vanessa turned and looked over her shoulder.

“Yum. We know what I’m having.” She closed her menu.

“I’ll join you there,” Hal said, and closed his as well. “No one does a better grilled tuna than the man Walt has working in his kitchen.”

“That sounds great. I’ll have that as well.” Maggie added her menu to the pile.

“Grady?” Hal asked.

“I’m going with the swordfish.”

Hal signaled for the waiter and gave the orders.

“So how did you two spend the rest of the afternoon?” Hal asked.

“We just walked around a bit, then sat and watched the sun float down onto the Bay,” Vanessa told him. “That’s how we knew you never made it out of your slip.”

“Well, now, you know how old men are once they get talking about their boats.” Hal turned to Maggie. “I guess we bored you to death.”

“Not at all,” Maggie assured him. She took a deep breath and asked Grady, “Are you planning on staying in St. Dennis for a while?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied. “I’m playing it by ear.”

Hal took that to mean Grady would hang around until they figured out who was targeting Vanessa and why. He liked that about the young man, that he’d been concerned enough about Ness not to be so quick to leave when no one was really sure how serious the threat was. A man would be a fool not to know when two young people were circling around each other the way these two were over the past four days. Hal had been hoping the circling hadn’t been all on Vanessa’s part. Knowing that Grady was willing to change his plans to keep an eye on her… well, Hal couldn’t help but approve of that.

“Hal tells me you live in Montana,” Maggie said.

Grady nodded. “Not too far from Great Falls, if you know where that is.”

“I do.” She nodded. “I was in that airport once, when my flight to Fargo got redirected due to bad weather.”

“How do you like North Dakota?” Grady asked.

“I like some things-I like all the space, and the scenery is beautiful. But it’s so cold, and the summer’s so short. But of course, you could say the same thing. We probably have similar seasons.”

“Yeah. Winter and July.”

Maggie laughed. “Yes, that’s it exactly.”

“What part of the state do you live in, Mrs. Turner?”

“Oh, call me Maggie. Everyone does. Even my children.” Maggie slanted a look at Vanessa. “I live a little southwest of Fargo.”

“Did Vanessa tell me you raised sheep?”

“Oh, no, no.” Maggie laughed again. “No, that was my late husband’s deal. He raised Cotswold sheep. They produce a very nice, long wool fleece. They tell me that people who spin their own wool like it, but since I don’t spin and I don’t knit, I wouldn’t know.”

“Who’s minding the ranch while you’re here, Maggie?” Vanessa asked.

“Oh, my late husband’s sons have been working the ranch for the past several years, since he-Carl Senior, that is-got sick. Wayne and the Carls have-”

“The Carls?” Vanessa raised an eyebrow.

“Carl Junior, and his son, Carl the third.” Maggie turned to Grady. “Yes, I know, the Turners were in a bit of a rut when it came to naming their children. Anyway, Carl’s boys have been taking care of the ranch and they say they’re staying on. This year they started raising turkeys as well, so I guess they’re determined to keep it going.”

“Is that awkward for you?” Vanessa asked. Hal glanced at her over the top of his glasses, and she rephrased the question. “What I meant was, since your husband died-”

“I understand exactly what you meant, and yes, of course, it’s awkward. Neither one of them would throw me a line if I fell in the middle of that Bay out there.” Maggie pointed out the window. “I understand why, of course-their father was an older man of some means when we married, he’d been widowed for about twenty years, and he’d neglected to tell the boys that he wanted to remarry. So I had three strikes against me going in.

“But it wasn’t what either of the boys thought. I didn’t want the property, and they are welcome to the house and the money their dad left behind.” She smiled somewhat wryly. “I’m just as happy to be someplace where it’s warm at this time of the year.”

“So, are you planning on going back there?” Vanessa asked.

Hal was pretty sure he could tell by the look on Vanessa’s face that she was afraid of what Maggie’s answer was going to be.

“I will.” Maggie nodded. “But mostly just to pick up my things. These past few years, I spent most of my time taking care of Carl. Now that he’s gone, there’s no place for me there.”

“So where will you go?” Vanessa’s eyes narrowed as they focused on her mother.

“I have no idea, and right now, I have no plans.” Maggie flashed her best smile. “Why, dear, were you thinking of asking me to stay with you for a while?”

“I was just curious,” Vanessa replied, ignoring Maggie’s obvious plea for an invitation.

“So, Grady”-Maggie turned her attention back to him-“what do you do in Montana? Do you ranch?”

“No. I only have a few acres, not enough to raise much of anything,” he told her.

“What do you do for a job? I understand you’re no longer with the FBI.”

He nodded. “I left the Bureau a few years ago. Since then, I’ve qualified as a wilderness guide. I take groups or individuals camping, hiking, backpacking; that sort of thing.”

“Can you make a living that way?” Maggie asked.

“Maggie,” Vanessa admonished. “Why would you ask him that?”

“Well, sweetie, you’ve been spending a lot of time with this young man this weekend.”

“He’s… sort of… a bodyguard.” To Hal, Vanessa sounded defensive.

“Well, then, let’s just say it’s maternal prerogative.”

Vanessa set her glass on the table. “Where was your motherly concern when your just-turned-eighteen daughter wanted to marry a man who was twelve years older than she was?”

“Vanessa, I told you at the time that I did not think that marrying Craig was a good idea.” Maggie’s glass hit the table as well.

“You didn’t try to stop me.”

“I could never stop you from doing a damned thing you wanted to do. You said you wanted to marry him and-”

“No, no. I said he wanted to marry me . You were supposed to stop me. You were supposed to say he was too old and you weren’t going to let me do it.” Vanessa’s eyes flashed anger, and for a moment, Hal thought she was going to get up and walk out. “What did I know? I was only eighteen years old.”

The ensuing silence was so dense, Hal thought he could cut through it. He cleared his throat, trying to think of something to say that might salvage the moment. Fortunately, the waiter appeared with their dinners.

“Well, now, the tuna looks great, doesn’t it, ladies?” Hal said. He got a nod from Vanessa and a distracted glance from Maggie, which was, he supposed, about the best he was going to get.

The silence returned and lingered right through the rest of the meal. When it came time to order dessert, Vanessa excused herself.

“I’m going to have to call it a night,” she said. “I have to be in the shop first thing in the morning to start my inventory, and it’s been a very long weekend.” She leaned over and kissed Hal on the cheek. “Thank you for dinner.”

“You’re welcome.” He leaned close and whispered, “Thanks for humoring me. I appreciate the effort. Oh, I almost forgot.” He stuck his hand in his shirt pocket and removed a set of keys. “The keys for your new locks. The locksmith left them at the station.” He handed them to her. “They both fit all the locks on the house.”