She let the sheet drop and held her hand out for the muffin. There was something deeply intimate and loving about eating breakfast in bed naked with her lover. Henry Flanders was her lover. She took a deep breath because tears were threatening. The last thing she wanted was to mar this time by crying. “I will take a raspberry muffin, thank you. And I wasn’t actually protesting that boy’s birthday. I was protesting the way the zoo treated its bears. When the conservancy that the bears came from gave them to the zoo, they also gave the zoo a large donation that should have gone toward a new, larger environment for the bears, but the zoo used the money to put in a carousel. I was protesting the carousel, which also happened to be the site of one Austin Jacobson’s fourth birthday party. I also might have mentioned to his mother that the balloons she had bought would kill a ton of birds. Conversely, I performed the Heimlich maneuver and saved Austin’s dad when he nearly choked on a hot dog. That wouldn’t have happened with a vegan substitute.”
Henry’s lips turned up again as he passed her the muffin and started to pour her tea. His eyes briefly found her breasts, and he sighed as though enchanted by the sight. “All right then. He probably isn’t the one who broke into your cabin.”
She took the tea mug. “You’re looking through my e-mail to try to find the crazy gentleman?” Wow, that was sexist. “It could be a female. Females can be just as crazy as males.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, baby.” He turned back to the computer. “And yes, I’ve been combing through your e-mails to see if anyone had sent you threatening letters. I was surprised at the volume.”
She’d kind of gotten used to it. People tended to not like it when she protested their businesses or housing developments or zoos. She’d become accustomed to nasty e-mails and letters and the occasional phone call. “I get it a lot. I just ignore most of it. Except for the box that looked like a bomb. I had to call the sheriff for that one. But the Farley brothers promised me that it was so poorly constructed, it would never have actually gone off. They’re so smart. They’re just kids, but they were so much more informed about bomb making techniques than their elders.”
“Someone sent you a bomb?” Henry was looking at her, and the temperature in the room seemed to have dropped again.
Maybe she should have kept that part to herself. She choked a little on the muffin. “Uhm, it wasn’t a very good bomb. I also have gotten the occasional box filled with poop. Those didn’t explode, either, thank god.”
His face was flushed, his jaw a hard line. He seemed to take control of himself, his voice so much softer than his expression, as though he was working hard to try not to scare her. “Nell, sweetheart, I’m going to need the names of the people who sent you those packages.”
“Oh, they don’t tend to leave a return address.” Henry seemed a bit naïve. Nell munched on the rest of her muffin. He probably didn’t get a lot of threatening letters as an academic.
“But the sheriff tracked them down, right?”
“Law enforcement is pretty laid back here. It’s kind of a no-harm-done thing.”
Henry said something about harm under his breath, but Nell didn’t catch all of it. His eyes closed briefly. “All right, then. We’ll start fresh. Do you know where the skinny kid lives?”
“Logan or Seth?” They didn’t really like to be called kids, but she was sure that was who Henry was talking about.
“Seth.”
“He’s spending winter break with his grandfather. He lives on the outer edge of the valley. Logan’s place is two doors down. You can’t miss Logan’s place. Teeny and Marie like gnomes. They’re kind of everywhere. Seth and Logan will be either there or at Seth’s place. They’re pretty much always together though.”
“Good.” Henry stood up. “I think Bill told me he has a couple of snowmobiles. I would like to have a talk with the young man. I think he might know a thing or two about tracking someone down with a computer.”
She passed back the napkin. “Thanks for the breakfast, Henry. It was delicious.”
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t had any yet.” The temperature in the room shot right back up. Henry was staring at her like she was the best-looking muffin in the world. “How sore are you, baby?”
Just like that her heart tripled. One look from Henry and her whole body went soft and willing. “I’m good.”
He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. “Good, because I’m very hungry, Nell. Spread your legs and let me have some breakfast. I need some honey.”
Nell lay back and started the morning out right.
Chapter Six
Bishop hopped off the snowmobile and stared at the small cabin in front of him. It was covered in snow, but someone had painstakingly shoveled the walkway from the front porch to the driveway. Three cars were parked along the circular drive, a tiny VW bug, a big-ass SUV, and a truck that had seen better days.
And everywhere he looked, he saw the evidence of the aforementioned gnomes. Their pointy red hats stuck up out of the snow. Bishop would bet that during the summertime, this yard was filled with flowers and ceramic gnomes would rule the valley.
His mother had kept a small garden in the back of their house. The tiny home he’d spent his first years in had been in a trashy part of his hometown, but she’d been proud of it. She kept it clean and she’d made a little playground in the back for him. It hadn’t been much, just a ratty old swing set she’d bought secondhand and had to clean rust off of, and a sandbox she’d dug herself. He would sit there and watch her as she worked in the garden. His mother’s hands had been so callused from work, but she’d been the tenderest woman in the world.
Nell’s hands were callused. Nell worked.
Bishop took a long breath and banished the unwanted memories. He wasn’t sure why they had surfaced. He’d grown up in the heat of Houston. He’d never seen snow until he joined the military. But something about the cabin in front of him took him right back to that time when he’d been safe and warm and loved.
“Hello! Can I help you?” A small woman peeked out of her door. She was thin and warmly dressed, her graying hair in a neat bun. She had a slightly hooked nose, giving her an almost birdlike appearance, but the woman in front of him wouldn’t be a hawk or an eagle. She was a little dove. “Come on inside. It’s freezing out here. I have some cider warming.”
He nodded her way, pocketing the keys to the snowmobile Bill had given him not twenty minutes before along with his promise to watch after Nell. He made short work of the distance, eager to be inside. The world was too cold, too white. Even dressed and away from the resort, he still felt a bit naked, as though all that pristine snow couldn’t cover up the fact that he didn’t belong here. A man needed camouflage to survive, and there was none to be had in this town. This woman proved it. She just noticed a strange man in her front yard and invited him in for cider.
He thought about giving the older woman a stern talking-to. He could be a serial killer. He could be an Amway salesman. He could be just about anyone. But it wasn’t his place. If Logan’s mom wanted to get herself horrifically murdered, then that was her business.
But damn that cider smelled good.
Bishop pushed through the door of the cabin. There was a small wreath hanging on the door. Underneath was a painted sign declaring this home to be the Green-Warner Homestead. Bishop wasn’t sure if the woman currently heating up cider was a Green or a Warner, but she turned in the kitchen and motioned him in the door.
“Come in. Come in, and sit a spell. That was a nasty storm last night, wasn’t it?”