The Emerald Hills Collection Page 6

  * * *

  As she and Leigh redid the shop's displays, Mallory told her friend about the trap she'd found.

  "He didn't!" Leigh's hands went to her hips. It took a lot to upset Leigh. She and her husband had three children. Her sixteen-year-old daughter was learning to drive, and Leigh teased that if a person could survive that, she could weather anything. Her two boys, thirteen and ten, seemed to participate in every sport. Mallory had no idea how Leigh managed to get everything done. She took everything in her stride. But not this. "Does Neil know?"

  "I left the trap on the counter with a note," Mallory said. "He'll find it."

  "You're dealing with more than a poacher." Leigh stood back from the display they were working on and narrowed her eyes. Finally satisfied, they moved to the next table. "This guy has a chip on his shoulder and a mean temper. You might want to talk to Guthrie."

  Emerald Hills' sheriff was as practical as Leigh. He wouldn't overreact. Mallory nodded. "I'll give him a call when I go home tonight, and I'll let Neil know what I did."

  Leigh looked out the shop's front window. No tourists walked the sidewalks yet. It was too early. Lights blazed up and down the streets. Every owner was readying for the day. "You know, my Harold made Eagle in Boy Scouts. We love to camp and hike, so do our kids. He's an expert at knots."

  "Knots?" Mallory frowned. Leigh was making a connection that she couldn't follow. "They're important for camping?"

  Leigh smiled. "No, but he knows how to tie snares."

  Mallory finished placing some of Leigh's smaller flower arrangements and a few of her gourds on one of the high shelves. She turned to look at her friend. "Aren't snares for small animals, like rabbits?"

  "Usually, but what if Harold lays some snares on your side yard where the poacher would walk to get to your back yard? He didn't go through the woods, or Neil would have seen him. He came to trap Whiskers this time, to warn you off."

  "Are snares legal? Could the trapper get hurt? I don't want to get sued."

  "I'll ask Harold to make sure, but if I remember right, all a snare does is trap a foot. Unless your poacher chews off his ankle, he'll be caught, unharmed. And I'll ask the boys to think of a way to sound an alarm, so he can't escape before you hear him."

  Mallory smiled. She liked the idea. "I'll ask Guthrie about it when I call him."

  Someone tapped at the door, and they glanced at the clock. Ten till nine, but the first customers were standing on their stoop. Leigh went to let them in.

  "Sorry," the husband said, "but it's cold out there, and we saw you in here. We can wait in a corner until it's your official opening if you want us to."

  Leigh laughed and waved for them to look around. "We're just glad the wind didn't blow you away. Make yourselves welcome."

  Business wasn't as brisk as usual. The cold, damp winds made walking from shop to shop uninviting. Mondays were usually slower than other days, anyway, but today was even more leisurely.

  Leigh's son called in the afternoon and wanted to leave school early. Mallory handed Leigh the phone. "Hunter says he's sick."

  "I don't feel good," came a plaintive voice over the phone.

  Mallory grinned at Leigh's usual response. "Are you puking or bleeding?" The answer had to be a negative, because her next words were, "Tough it out. You know the drill." When she hung up, though, she frowned. "I might have to have Nikki take my place later this week. Hannah complained about feeling sick this morning. They must be catching something."

  Near the end of the day, business was slow enough that they had the cash register balanced and displays restocked by closing time. At six on the dot, they walked out of the shop and locked the door behind them. When Mallory pulled into her drive, she realized she hadn't called to warn Neil that she was going to be early. His truck was still in her garage. No matter, she parked behind it and went into the house.

  Neil was standing at the kitchen windows, frowning at the woods. He turned his head to greet her. "Want me to switch vehicles before you take off your coat? If it's okay, I'd like to talk to you before I leave. I never meant to put you or your cat in danger. I'm not happy about the trap in your yard."

  "Neither am I, but it's not your fault. I have a couple of things I want to run by you. We can move cars later." She told him about Leigh's ideas of calling Guthrie and setting snare traps.

  Neil shook his head, surprised. "I didn't think of snare traps, but if Guthrie gives us an okay, I can come up with some that your poacher won't get out of before we can nab him."

  That decided, Mallory gave Guthrie a call. When she hung up, she said, "He can't make it here for another couple of hours. Is that okay? Either that, or he can send Mike, one of his deputies."

  "I can stick around. But what if I start some supper? I slept through lunch. Bill's not as busy this time of year, so he volunteered to watch over things during the day. He likes going home to Tillie in the evenings, though, so he's happy I'm taking the night shift."

  "Will two more hours make you late?"

  "I can keep watch from here, but I really don't think our guy will show up tonight. He'll wait a while before he strikes again."

  "So Bill can go home to Tillie?" she asked.

  "Exactly."

  Mallory smiled. She'd met Tillie and liked her on sight. Not a common event for her. Usually, she was slow to commit to friendship. She considered it wise to err on the side of caution. She nodded. "Your chili's still in my refrigerator. We can heat that up."

  He shook his head. "I've been eating that at home. Can't take another batch. I'll go buy us some fixings and be back in a few minutes."

  "Take my car. Leave your truck in the garage. I'll be the first one out tomorrow, so it's no big deal." She handed him her car keys, then changed out of her work clothes while he was away. When he came back, she was in jeans and a sweatshirt with stockinged feet.

  "Aaah, that looks better. Want to help me in the kitchen?" He went straight to her pantry and carried a cast-iron skillet to the stove. He turned the flame on screaming hot and tossed two steaks on a plate to reach room temperature. Then he pulled an acorn squash out of a plastic bag, cut it in half, and scooped out its seeds. "It only takes ten minutes to microwave these till they're tender."

  Mallory glanced at the bag of salad greens still in the grocery bag. "I'm not a squash fan, but the steaks and salad are plenty for me."

  He shrugged. "Squash is one of those love/hate foods. I love it." He dropped a dab of butter, a pinch of salt, and a dollop of brown sugar in each of the halves, sealed them with plastic wrap, and tossed them in the microwave. While they cooked, he turned his attention to the steaks. "Got any seasonings?"

  Mallory pulled a small, round bottle of Canadian seasoning from her cupboard. She might not be much of a cook, but she did love a good steak once in a while. And Leigh had introduced her to the magic of Canadian seasoning. She sprinkled it and Kosher salt on one side of each steak, flipped them and salted the second side. Then she drizzled a little olive oil over each.

  Neil raised his eyebrows, impressed. "I take it you like steak."

  "Whiskers and I fight over them."

  Neil laughed. "Thanks for the warning."

  The steaks sizzled when they hit the pan. Mallory opened the bag of salad and scrounged for a bottle of Ranch dressing in her refrigerator.

  When they sat down to eat, she was practically frothing at the mouth. And just as she'd warned, Whiskers was next to her chair, meowing for scraps. They didn't talk while they ate. Steaks deserved full attention. Mallory was a slow eater, so she and Neil finished at the same time, even though he'd eaten both halves of his squash.

  As they carried the dishes to the sink for wash up, he kept glancing at her. He had an odd expression on his face. Finally, she blurted, "What? Do I have salad dressing on my nose or something?"

  He flushed, neck to hairline, and stammered, "No. When do you think Guthrie will get here?"

  Mallory glanced at the clock. "I'd give him another fift
een minutes. Do you want me to make a pot of coffee? I have a thermos. You could take it with you when you stand watch tonight."

  It was already dark outside, so she flipped on her outside lights. They bathed both her front and back yards in stark brilliance.

  He kept staring at her. Finally, she looked away, uncomfortable.

  He blurted, "You know, you're one of those women who look really good even without makeup."

  She frowned. "I'm not pretty, never have been. Are you okay?"

  He rubbed his forehead. "No, I feel different."

  "Different how? Are you getting sick?"

  "I don't think so."

  She almost put her hand on his forehead to see if he was running a temperature, but then her gaze settled on the plastic bag on her countertop. She bit her bottom lip. "Where did you buy your squash?"

  The question threw him. He looked confused. "From a farm stand on the edge of town."

  "Midu's Organic Produce?"

  "That's it! Yeah, she didn't have much this time of year, but she had all kinds of squash."

  "Oh, Lord." Mallory let out a deep breath. The last thing they needed was a complication like this.

  "What?" Neil looked lost, like she was speaking a foreign language. Actually, she sort of was. He didn't believe in magic. She knew, for a fact, it existed.

  "Midu's produce is known for its magic, sort of like my gourds. That's probably what you feel right now." She wasn’t about to tell him that when someone ate something from Midu's stand, it showed him who his true love was or wasn't. If a customer was with the wrong person, he realized it. If he met the right person, he knew that too.

  "I've heard about your magic. What's hers?" Neil asked.

  "They make you healthier," Mallory lied. She considered herself lucky that she hadn't eaten a squash. If she had, she and Neil would probably be cooing over each other right now. It was pitiful. She made up her mind, then and there, that she'd never eat another thing from Midu. The past didn't count, but since she'd met Neil, if she ate something now, she'd be as pathetic as he was. If she remained firm, she could save both of them.

  Neil was about to ask more when headlights swept into her driveway, and Mallory sighed with relief when Guthrie started for the house. She hurried to let him in.

  Over cups of coffee at the kitchen table, Neil and Mallory brought him up to speed on their poacher.

  Guthrie leaned back in his chair. "I've heard that you're having a terrible problem with groundhogs, rabbits, and coons around here. Ruining your garden and getting into everything. Can't say that I'd blame you for putting out snares."

  Neil grinned. "I've got the wire I need in my pickup."

  Guthrie's gaze went to Mallory's back yard. "No one puts traps in peoples' yards in this town. Have to admit, though, all kinds of people rent places around the lake. It's not that far from the park and Mallory's place. Most of them clear out at the end of summer, but there are a few stragglers who stay on. We've had some problems there lately. An idiot tossed a stick of dynamite into the water instead of using a fishing pole."

  Neil nodded. "The cheat method. Sounds like our guy."

  "Sort of what I was thinking." Guthrie pushed away from the table and reached for his hat. "Gotta get going. The church ladies are expecting me at their potluck tonight. After supper, Sheri's playing the piano for a sing along. I like to keep those women happy."

  They watched him go, then Neil said, "I'll stand watch on the far side of the stream tonight. That way, I can see the woods and your yard. Tomorrow, before I go to sleep, I'll string snares, if that's all right with you."

  "Leigh said that a trap could ruin my leg, and that if I stepped in it and it snapped the bone right, I could go into shock."

  "She's right." Neil's expression went grim.

  "Then let's catch this guy."

  With a nod, Neil went to dig in the back of his pickup. With a sleeping bag tossed over his shoulder and a flashlight in his pocket, he set off.

  Mallory sat on the couch and started to read. She woke up the next morning, in the same spot, when Whiskers meowed to be let out. Glancing at the clock, she was only ten minutes behind schedule. It was a good thing her cat was a creature of habit. She rushed through her morning routine and set off for work.

  * * *

  Nikki took Leigh's place at the cash register. They'd relied on her all summer, when business was at its peak; and she still came in to work most weekends, when she didn't have too much homework at college.

  "All three kids are sick," Nikki told Mallory. "But you know Leigh. She said they were building up their immunity so they'd be healthy when the rest of us were bedridden in February."

  Mallory laughed. If there was a bright side, Leigh found it.

  The weather went from blustery to a cold drizzle. Customers were few and far between. She and Nikki spent most of the day carrying extra Christmas supplies from the basement and getting ready for the busloads of tourists who descended on Emerald Hills after Thanksgiving. By the end of the day, they'd strung Christmas lights around both of the shop's front windows. They'd hung one of Leigh's wreaths on the front door. And a Christmas tree stood, fully decorated, near the front counter.

  When the clock showed six, they locked the shop and hurried to their cars. Mallory stopped at Nancy's Restaurant to grab two containers of spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread. The drive home was a misery of windshield wipers and slippery roads. When she pulled into her drive and saw Neil's truck parked on the street, she sighed with relief.

  "I brought supper!" she called.

  Neil left his post by the back window. "It's nasty enough outside, our guy might take a chance on coming for his traps. No one's going to be out hiking, that's for sure."

  "Then let's eat in front of the window with the lights out. He won't be able to see us."

  "Will we be able to see our food and forks?"

  She opened the silverware drawer and handed him a fork and spoon. "If you miss that mouth, it'll be a miracle."

  He laughed and followed her into the work room. They sat in the dim light, watching the wind toss her birdhouses back and forth. A cardinal huddled close to one of the house style feeders. Shadows gathered at the base of the hill, and it was impossible to see the stream bed. Neil had finished his food when Whiskers ran to the front window and meowed.

  They both turned in time to see a dark shadow move across the lawn. The man was hurrying on the side of her property, close to the bushes, when he suddenly yelped and fell.

  Neil grinned. "I think we caught us a trophy." He jumped to his feet, and Mallory started to follow him when he held out a hand to stop her. "No, you stay here and call Guthrie."

  She grabbed her cell phone and punched in numbers. Neil yanked on a coat and disappeared out the door. Mallory hovered restlessly at the screen. She was ready to brave the weather and Neil's scowl when Guthrie's squad car pulled into her drive. She closed the door and waited.

  It didn't take long before Guthrie left and Neil hurried back inside. His coat was wet, his pants' bottoms soaked. The knees of his jeans were drenched too. He followed her gaze as she studied him. "Had a hard time releasing the snare in the dark. I thought about leaving the guy until morning, but Guthrie wouldn't have liked that."

  Mallory smiled. "The good news is you won't have to keep watch tonight. You can go home and sleep in your own bed."

  "I owe you a big thanks," he said. "Tomorrow, after work, I'm bringing over my world-famous spice cake. It's what my mom always made for celebrations. She gave me the recipe."

  "Cake?" Mallory licked her lips. She loved desserts. On Saturdays, she took turns buying goodies from Rachel and Isak's bakery or Tana's candy shoppe. "I'll buy the ice cream."

  "Then I'll see you tomorrow night. Eat something light for supper. Save room for lots of calories."

  Mallory watched him leave. She stood in the doorway until his truck's red taillights were out of sight. Whiskers rubbed his chin on her ankle and she grimaced. "I k
now. We'll miss him." But she'd been happy, on her own, for six years now. She'd be happy, solo, in a few more days. She'd get into her rhythm.

  She woke the next morning and ate cereal for breakfast. She had a salad for lunch. She ordered grilled chicken for supper. All to save room for cake. By the time Neil pulled into her drive, she wanted to smash her face into the frosting and eat her way down to the cake stand.

  He cut her a huge wedge, and she served them each ice cream on the side. She poured them coffee. Then they sat and Neil watched as she took her first bite.

  She groaned. "This is the best spice cake I've ever eaten."

  "It's more like a carrot cake," he said.

  "It's wonderful." She sipped coffee to wash down the moist goodness. "My mom only made box cakes."

  "This is from scratch with fresh ingredients."

  She'd never had anything so good. She practically inhaled her slice. She glanced at his plate. He was only half done. "Aren't you hungry?" she asked.

  "I'm savoring mine, enjoying every moment." He studied her, and she frowned.

  A tingle zinged down her spine. She rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the giddiness in her stomach. Had she caught the germs Leigh's children had? She took a deep breath. She felt hot and flushed.

  "Are you all right?" Neil asked, his tone amused.

  She blinked at him and noticed that his eyes were brilliant blue. He was more handsome than she'd first thought. He grinned, and it transformed his face, made him look younger. Wait. She frowned. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

  "Are you sure you're all right?" Neil repeated.

  "I feel odd. Maybe I should have eaten more during the day. I'm a little lightheaded."

  He came to take her plate to the sink to rinse it. "I brought some mulled cider. Care for a glass?"