The ground was white but it hadn’t been a heavy snowfall, probably no more than an inch. That was good because the sun was trying to break through the low gray clouds and the snow should melt quickly. For now, the day was cold but not icy. All in all, not bad. The year before, they’d been hit with a big snow in the middle of April, and that had been such a downer because it had seemed as if winter would never let go.
She had to throw the tennis ball for Tricks a few times before the dog settled down to do her business. Then Tricks ran around sniffing things, as if checking whether or not any strange creatures had invaded her territory during the night. She found a stick and romped in the snow with it, twisting and jumping and prancing. Finally Bo called her in with “Ready for breakfast?” Tricks was always ready for breakfast, or any other meal; she immediately came trotting over, a look of canine glee sparkling in her eyes. Bo retrieved the tennis ball from the yard-who, exactly, was the retriever here, and who was boss? She didn’t care. She and Tricks had their routine, and they were both happy with it.
As they entered the door, she smelled the delicious scent of coffee at the same time she noticed Morgan was now awake and sitting up. He looked marginally better than he had yesterday, despite the growth of beard darkening his jaw. At least he didn’t look as if he were about to die.
His gaze was blank and guarded as he looked up at her. Considering how welcoming-not!-she’d been the day before, Bo didn’t blame him. She hung her jacket on the hook beside the door and asked, “Are you a coffee drinker, or would you like something else?”
Relief flashed across his face and was gone before she was certain she’d read him correctly. “Coffee,” he said immediately.
“Cream or sugar?”
“No, just black.”
She really, really wanted that first cup of coffee, but she thought he probably wanted it more. She did take the time to slide another K-cup into the machine and another mug under the dispenser, and press the button before taking the steaming hot coffee to him. His blue eyes focused on the cup as if she were bringing him ambrosia. “Thanks,” he said, reaching out with both hands. He had big, rough-looking hands, scarred in places, bruised from needles and thin from the ordeal he’d been through, but she knew for a fact how strong they still were because she’d felt one clamped around her throat.
She watched his eyes close briefly as he took that first sip-she knew how that felt-and asked, “Didn’t they let you have coffee in the hospital?”
“Once I could eat, yeah, but this is the first cup today. I was afraid I’d have to settle for skim milk.” His voice was still thin and kind of scratchy, his eyes swollen from sleep, but she got a sense of increased energy from him. Not a lot, but anything was an improvement.
“I’ll pick you up some he-man milk today. My pantry is empty even for me,” she admitted. “I haven’t had time to do much food shopping lately.” Between her chief-of-police duties and the technical-writing projects, she’d been hustling, which was good for her bottom line but hell on her schedule. Going back into the kitchen, she got her own coffee and took a few blissful sips before setting it aside to dip some dog food into Tricks’s bowl, and put out fresh water for her. Tricks rushed over; she never had to be enticed to eat first thing in the morning; that routine was only for dinner, when she wasn’t as hungry.
Feeding the dog was easy; feeding the man was a problem.
“I’m at a loss for breakfast,” she confessed. “I have the aforementioned skim milk and cereal-Grape-Nuts, if you’re interested.” She knew she wasn’t. In her mind, cereal was for when there was nothing else in the house. “I also have instant oatmeal, and I can throw in some raisins to make it more hearty. Other than that, we’re back to the PB &J, or another smoothie. Or-” Thinking of something, she quickly opened the refrigerator door and checked the contents. Yes, she had cheese. “-a grilled cheese sandwich.”
“I’m fine with just coffee,” he said. “I’m not hungry.”
“We went through this yesterday. You have to eat.”
“Sandwich,” he said grudgingly. “Peanut butter.”
“I’m sorry for the pitiful selection, but like I said, I haven’t been shopping.” She felt chagrined by her lack of options, even though she hadn’t had any warning. “What would you like while I’m shopping? Eggs, sausage, pancakes?” She pulled a notepad toward her and began scribbling down a list. Eggs, breakfast ham, salsa, fresh fruit, whole milk-
“Yes,” he said, evidently to everything.
The enormity of feeding him dawned on her. It wasn’t just breakfast; it was three meals a day, every day, for an unspecified length of time. Her scribbling got faster. Steaks, though maybe he wasn’t up to that yet. She could put them in the freezer until he was. Salad fixings. Hamburgers, potatoes, frozen hash browns.
This was going to cost a fortune. Good thing Axel was paying her well.
Food wasn’t the only problem. She couldn’t hide him away out here for any length of time. For one thing, her grocery bill would give her away, and Hamrickville was small enough that things like that got noticed. For another, she didn’t intend to hide him. That was a scandal waiting to happen. She’d tell Jesse that Morgan was out here, and the basic truth that he’d had open-heart surgery and needed a place to recover.
She couldn’t tell Morgan’s real name, though, given that he was in hiding and Internet searches were like taking out an electronic billboard.
She thought about that as she slapped peanut butter and jelly between two slices of bread-he got a whole sandwich this time-and when she took the sandwich to him, she said, “What name will you be using?”
Evidently he and Axel had already covered that base because he said, “I have a second ID that’ll past muster in case anyone checks.”
“Oh, it’ll be checked. As soon as my chief deputy finds out you’re here, he’ll be all over it.”
He showed no surprise at her having a chief deputy, which told her that he already knew her circumstances here, and the setup she had with Hamrickville. She cocked her head, eyeing him. If he so readily had a fake ID, how did she know he’d shown her his real one? On the other hand, did it really matter?
“Yes, I told you my real name,” he said tersely, correctly reading her expression.
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if you did or not, because I wouldn’t know either way. I don’t know you. All I know is that Axel sent you, you’re in sorry shape and obviously need help, and a big payment is supposed to be deposited in my bank account today. You can call yourself Lady Gaga, for all I care.”
“I’ll stick with Morgan,” he said drily. “My second ID is for Morgan Rees, R-E-E-S.” He didn’t pronounce it Reece, but rather the way it was spelled. “Middle name Allen.”
“Is Allen your real middle name?”
“No.”
“Okay. Morgan Rees. I got it. And if Jesse asks, I don’t know your middle name, because it isn’t as if we hooked up in the past or anything.”
“Jesse is your chief deputy?”
“He is. Jesse Tucker. You’ll be meeting him, probably some time this afternoon.”
“Why?”
“Because when I tell him you’re here, he’ll have to check you out himself.”
“Is he your boyfriend?” The blue eyes narrowed, his gaze drilling into her and the intensity in his gaze taking her aback.
“Lord, no!” she said, startled. What had made him ask that, unless he was weighing the possible complications of jealousy and prolonged contact? She supposed that was reason enough, given his circumstances.
“But he’ll come out here to check for himself whether or not I’m on the level?”