She felt tears pricking her eyes. This conversation hadn’t gone the way she hoped. Not at all.

  Jackson gaped at Maggie. He couldn’t believe she was moving on. He was glad for her—really, he was—but part of him resented it. Moving on meant letting go of their baby girl, and he couldn’t do that. He didn’t want to let go of her. Even if it meant a life of unhappiness. He needed to cling to her so he didn’t forget her. Her short life had to have purpose and meaning. And apparently, he was now the only one who would keep her alive that way.

  He’d tell Maggie how he felt, but honestly, he couldn’t talk about this tonight. He was spent. The lack of sleep the last few nights coupled with the crazy emotions he felt when he came face to face with the man who hurt Maggie, and the residual adrenaline from the mission had exhausted him, and he needed a stress-free night.

  “Is there anything I can do to help with dinner?” he asked.

  Disappointment flooded her eyes, but she blinked it away. “Do you still like to grill?”

  He nodded but couldn’t continue to see the sadness in her face. He looked away. Maybe she didn’t want him to drop the subject of Alison, or maybe she thought he would move past the loss of their daughter. Either way, he would only hurt Maggie more by telling her how he felt, so he kept quiet.

  “Then you can cook the salmon.” She picked up a cookie sheet holding a grilling basket with a large salmon filet and handed it to him.

  He took one last look at her and stepped out on the deck before he changed his mind and continued with the conversation. She’d already lit the grill, and he opened the lid, the heat hitting him full on, much the way her talk about Alison had smacked him in the face. He felt like he was under fire. Maybe like the enemy was approaching. The enemy in this situation was his own mind and emotions, and he honestly was too tired to even know for sure what he felt.

  He laid the basket on the grill, and the salmon sizzled. He closed the lid and sat down to set an alarm on his phone to remind him to turn the basket. He probably should go back inside and spend time with Maggie. After all, she’d gone to all of this trouble for him. And soon, she would be out of his life.

  The thought was like a knife to the gut. Cutting and twisting. But he could do nothing about it, so he laid his head back against the chair. Cleared his mind as he did before every mission. Focused solely on what needed to be done.

  Tomorrow he would meet with Blake and Garrett. Look Garrett in the eye and tell him what he thought of him. After that he would call Scott’s father and tell him about Garrett and Vetter to help give him some closure in his loss.

  Don’t you deserve the same closure? The thought had him sitting up straight. If Maggie was right, he wasn’t to blame for the accident that killed Alison. Maybe he did deserve the closure, but he didn’t want it. Not if it meant letting go of his precious child.

  The alarm dinged, and he got up to turn the salmon. He stood waiting for it to finish and when it was pink with tantalizing brown marks from the sizzling flame, he took the basket into the kitchen.

  Maggie had placed big bowls of salad at the table along with bottles of dressing. She mentioned in the truck that she wanted to eat on the rooftop deck, but obviously she changed her mind. A good thing. The last thing they needed was a romantic night under the stars and moonlight.

  They plated their salmon, a long grain and wild rice dish, and peas. At the table, Maggie gave a blessing for the food, and Jackson prayed with her. He believed every word she said. Believed God gave him every blessing in his life, just like Maggie had said. But he just couldn’t let go of his anger at God and himself for Alison’s death.

  He forked a bite of the salmon. He knew it should taste amazing, but it felt like putty in his mouth. Bland and chewy.

  “You cooked this to perfection,” Maggie said.

  “Easy enough, but it’s the prep that makes it so good.” At least he assumed from Maggie’s delight that the fish was tasty.

  He ate his dinner, and they talked about the compound. The team. His role there. She mentioned more about her life, too, and he was honestly eager to hear about it.

  “My love is still the forensic work,” she went on, her eyes alive with the topic. “It’s horrible to say that I wish I could do it full time. Not when it means for me to work more, people have to lose their lives under suspicious circumstances.”

  “Nah, it just means when they do, you want to be the one to help. Just like our team. We don’t want people to suffer, but suffering is a given, and when we can help alleviate it, then we’re glad to do so.”

  “What about your own suffering?”

  “How’s that?” he asked reluctantly.

  “You could end that, too, but you’re choosing not to.”

  Right. They were back to the same topic. He just couldn’t respond. “Thanks for the amazing meal. Why don’t you go put your feet up, and I’ll do the dishes?”

  Disappointment darkened her eyes just as it had earlier, but she got up and went to the sofa. He made quick work of the few dishes, putting his frustrations into working fast, and almost hated that he finished quickly, as that meant he had no excuse not to join her. Not that he didn’t want to sit with her, but he didn’t want to bring up anything personal again.

  He sat by her side, but she didn’t look at him. “So tomorrow, Coop wants to take off by eight.”

  “Will you come with us?” She continued to stare straight ahead at the fireplace.

  He might not be able to offer more to her, but he would do nothing less than see that she was settled back in her home. Sort of like walking her to her door. After all, his granddad said a gentleman always walked a girl to the door. “Nate arrested Garrett. Blake will be there first thing in the morning to question him. I want to meet up with him and talk to Garrett.”

  “Really?” She shot him a look. “What’s the point in that?”

  “I need him to know what I think of what he did.”

  She watched him carefully. “What good will that do?”

  “It will get this sick feeling out of my gut over Scott’s senseless loss,” he said as his dinner churned in his stomach. “And I need that right now. More than you know.”

  18

  Jackson pulled up to Maggie’s house and turned off the engine. He planned to walk her to the door, and once she was safely inside, he would leave, but he knew it wouldn’t be that easy. He wasn’t going to be able to walk away like that. Could have to do with not getting the result he expected in his visit with Garrett. The guy wasn’t remorseful in the least, and the ache remained in Jackson’s gut. It was probably time to admit it wasn’t Garrett putting the pain there, it was the upcoming separation from Maggie.

  He took out his keys and walked up the path. They were supposed to leave Cold Harbor at eight, but instead, the entire team had breakfast with Gage and Hannah. She wanted to acknowledge a job well done and say goodbye to Maggie. The meal went on and on as if Hannah was trying to delay the departure. He finally got Coop down to the helipad at ten, but by the time he’d finished his preflight check and repaired some malfunction, it was noon before they took off. Then two hours at the jail and now it was going on midafternoon.

  At the front door, his stomach grumbled, protesting the lack of lunch.

  “I’m not letting you leave on an empty stomach.” She unlocked the door.

  “Coop’s waiting at the chopper for me.”

  “You can bring something back to the helicopter for him to eat.”

  Jackson knew better than to argue with Maggie when she got it in her mind to feed him. There was no getting between her and her cooking.

  She stepped inside, and he followed, setting down her suitcase in the foyer. He locked the door. She turned, questions in her eyes.

  “You may not have a killer after you, but you should still be security conscious,” he said.

  “I am.” She went to the refrigerator and emerged with turkey slices, Swiss cheese, pickles, and sort of a pinkish sauce.

  “Sit,” she commanded. “It’ll only take me a few minutes to whip up a grilled sandwich.”

  She took a bag with ciabatta rolls from the cupboard and got out a portable sandwich press. She started heating it, the griddle smoking and smelling hot. She sliced the bread, loaded it with everything she’d taken out of the fridge and put the sandwich on the grill.

  His mouth watered at the sight of it, and he decided to forget that he was leaving tonight and enjoy what was likely the last lunch he’d ever have with her.

  “I’ll grab some plates,” he said.

  “I’ve got it.” She smiled at him. “Now that the danger is gone, it’s my turn to take care of you.”

  He loved her generous heart. Her kindness. Her willingness to put up with him even when he avoided the subject she most wanted to discuss. Time he admitted it. He loved her.

  Had always loved her. Had never stopped. A till-death-do-us-part kind of love.

  He sat back, shocked at the truth of it all. Question was, what would he do about it? What could he do about it? They were still at odds, and she didn’t deserve to be saddled with him until he figured things out.

  His phone rang. He looked at the screen.

  “Coop,” he answered. “I suppose you want to get going.”

  “Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I figured you’d be here soon so I started my preflight checklist, and I discovered that the problem I fixed at the compound goes a little deeper.”

  “How long will it take to fix?”

  “Depends on if I can find a replacement part. Vince thinks he can help with that, and I’ll let you know what I find.”

  “Roger that.” Jackson disconnected to find Maggie watching him. “Coop needs to replace a part on the chopper. I won’t be leaving right away. Mind if I hang with you here?”

  “I was going to head over to Summit after lunch, but you’re welcome to come with me if you want.”

  “Sure. Now that I don’t have to protect you, maybe I can help with the recovery effort. If you show me what to do, that is.”

  “Of course.” She plated his sandwich, sliced it in half, and added carrot and celery sticks to the plate. “The sandwich will be hot.”

  He had to force himself to wait a minute or two before taking a big bite. His taste buds exploded with the sweet and savory flavor. “It’s a good thing I’m not with you every day, or I’d weigh three hundred pounds.”

  She frowned, and he realized he said it was a good thing he wasn’t with her.

  “Sorry,” he said. “That came out wrong.”

  “It’s okay.” She settled the second sandwich on the grill and headed for the refrigerator. He didn’t know if she turned away to retrieve something or because she was upset with his thoughtless comment, but when she came back holding a pitcher of iced tea, he relaxed again.

  As her sandwich cooked, she cleaned up. When hers was ready, she cut it in half, and without asking him, placed half on his plate. He ate far more than she did, and she always shared her food with him. The simple kindness creased his already bruised heart.

  “Thanks,” he said, but couldn’t add anything else without choking up.

  She nodded and took a seat. They finished the meal in silence and made it all the way back to the blighted neighborhood with hardly uttering a word. On the way in, she stopped to talk to supervisor McCall.

  “I hear you were able to use DNA to identify the victim,” he said.

  What? That was news to Jackson. She hadn’t mentioned this at all.

  “You know the guy was a rapist, right?” McCall looked like he wanted to hit someone.

  “Actually, his brother’s the rapist. He just helped cover it up.”

  McCall shook his head. “Just as bad in my book.”

  Jackson agreed. Anyone who would harm a woman or see one being harmed and do nothing about it was lowlife. The lowest of the low. Not that it meant the guy deserved to be murdered, though. “What’s the victim’s name?”

  Maggie turned to him. “Oh, right. You were out on the mission when Nate called, and I forgot to tell you when you got back. His name was Andre Gamblin.”

  “And the brother?” The rapist? The lowlife?

  “Ozzie. Same last name.” She didn’t seem to be appalled by this information, but then she’d had time to come to grips with it. She changed her focus to McCall. “What do you have for me today?”

  “Fewer fragments for once. You should easily be able to catch up.”

  “My…” She glanced at Jackson, her expression held confusion. “My friend, Jackson would like to help.”

  Ah, she didn’t know what to call him, but looks like he’d been firmly put in the “friend” zone and that stung. They weren’t friends. Okay maybe they were, but they were more than that, too. He loved her. She seemed to feel the same way.

  “I can always use another hand.” McCall clapped Jackson on the back. “Let’s grab you a vest and mask and get you started.”

  Jackson nodded, but even as he followed McCall to the truck, Jackson’s mind kept chewing over the friend comment, and he knew he had to do something about that. It was the what he didn’t know.

  Maggie cleaned up from dinner while Jackson lounged in the family room talking to Daria. Maggie was thankful to have a few minutes away from him as he’d been looking at her oddly ever since their conversation with McCall. She didn’t know what was up with that, but maybe he would tell her eventually, as he was spending the night in her guest room. He almost refused her offer and said he would sleep on the sofa, but she pointed out that there wasn’t any danger, and he didn’t have to keep the door in view.

  “I’m gonna take a quick walk,” she heard him tell Daria.

  She watched him walk to the windows and check the lock before disappearing down the hallway. She wasn’t surprised that he was being overly cautious. He kept checking in with her at Summit, too, distracting her from her work and making it take longer.

  He stepped into the kitchen, checked the window locks and the back door lock, and headed down the stairs. She appreciated his care, but he would have to find a way to relax or he would burn out. It wasn’t her business to help him do so, but when he came back upstairs she would try one more time.

  She hung the dishtowel to dry and went to the family room. Daria looked up from her phone.

  “When Jackson gets back upstairs,” Maggie said. “I’m going to suggest we go for a walk.”

  “And you don’t want me to tag along.” She grinned. “What’s his deal anyway? I mean I know he’s like this security bodyguard kind of guy, but you’re not in danger. Does he ever relax?”

  “That’s what I plan to ask him on the walk.”

  Daria got up. “Good luck with that. He’s so fierce he kind of scares me.”

  Maggie could see that. She felt that way in Coop’s presence, but only because she didn’t know him. If Daria got to know Jackson better, she wouldn’t be afraid of him.

  He entered the room, and Daria skittered away.

  He stopped abruptly and watched her leave. “I didn’t mean to scare her off.”

  “I know you didn’t do anything, but she’s afraid of you.”

  He shot her a look. “For real?”

  “You’re kind of intense, Jackson.”

  He scratched his jaw. “I suppose I can be.”

  “More than you used to be. You don’t seem to relax at all anymore.”

  She expected him to offer a reason, but he simply shrugged.

  “You want to take a walk with me?” She patted her stomach. “I need to wear off the stroganoff we had for dinner.”

  “Sure,” he said, but it was followed by a deep frown.

  “You’re worried about going on a walk? I’m not in any danger.”

  “It’s not you I’m worried about.” He didn’t elaborate but headed for the door and held it open for her.

  The moon hung like a giant orb in the sky, lighting the area, and she decided to take one of her favorite trails that led to a small waterfall. A perfect place to have that conversation with him. She started in that direction, and he followed close behind. She didn’t speak but listened to his sure footfalls behind her. He was a big guy, but he walked with grace. Likely from years of exercising stealth on his missions.

  She strolled past tall pines. A soft breeze blew through the area, cooling the night and perfuming the area with pine. She shivered and soon felt Jackson settle his outer long-sleeved shirt on her shoulders.

  “Thank you,” she said, looking back at him.

  The chiseled planes of his face were emphasized in the moonlight, and his eyes were even a darker gray in the subdued light. He looked so handsome she had to concentrate on breathing and holding herself in check before she ran a finger along his full lower lip accented in the light and then kissed him.

  She started foreword, almost running from him on the path that wound down to the waterfall. The sound of rushing water matched the pounding of her heart. At the overlook, she stepped behind a large boulder and hoped Jackson would remain on the other side. She needed something between them to keep her from foolishly kissing him.

  He moved closer to the edge of the cliff than she liked, but he didn’t fear much. At least not physical things.

  “When I was a young, this was my favorite spot on the property,” she said. “I always felt like God was closer here somehow.”

  “It’s beautiful.” He didn’t look at her but kept his focus on the falling water.

  “I’m ashamed to say I’ve avoided it since Alison died. Since I was mad at God, I didn’t want to be here.”

  “Then I should be ashamed, too, because I’m still mad.”

  “I know I’m not one to talk. It’s taken me years to deal with this, but I hope you can, too.”

  He turned to face her then, the light falling on his back, leaving his face shadowed when she desperately wanted to see his expression.

  “See, here’s the thing,” he said, his voice barely loud enough for her to hear. “I feel like if I let go of the pain, it’s like giving up on Alison and letting her go.”