The late May sun was brilliant in the clear Montana sky as Dexie stepped from her rented Jeep the next morning. Her body still ached and her head and face were still bruised and painful but she’d been in Dray’s arms when the alarm had roused them, leaving her more optimistic than she’d felt in ten years. They’d been eating breakfast when a sheriff’s deputy had arrived to let them know the cabin had been cleared as a crime scene.
Dray had given Dexie the keys and code to the ranch house she’d grown up in then driven her to the cabin. She’d been horrified to see the broken lamp, blood, and other remnants of Brent’s vicious assault but Dray had held her, reminding her that she was safe and Brent was still locked up tight in Billings. Dexie had collected her things after sweeping up the remnants of the lamp while Dray had cleaned up the rest of the mess, then they’d left. Dray had headed into town on an errand for his dad while Dexie had turned toward her family property.
Dexie turned the key in the lock and opened the door. The incessant beeping of the alarm Dray had told her about made her ears hurt and her head throb until she managed to press the code in to make it stop. Dexie took a tentative step into the house she hadn’t lived in for almost twelve years and shuddered at the timeless sensation that cloaked her. To her right was the garage and she idly wondered if her dad’s old Durango was still in there. She looked to her left into the formal living room that was exactly as it had been left when they’d moved to the Harrington mansion.
Dexie slowly walked forward into the room that her dad had used as his office. The room was dim, its heavy curtains closed against the world beyond. The scent of old books greeted her and she smiled lightly, running her hand gently across the spines of the generations-old tomes that were mostly first edition novels. Memories of the hours she’d spent in here with her dad washed over her and warmed her. This had been his sanctuary and he’d always been more relaxed in this room. Dexie turned her head and gazed at the huge antique desk that had been in the family since Leopold McBride had had it shipped by train from Minneapolis shortly after they’d settled in Peace. There were still stacks of papers and files littering the top of it, along with the broken pen that her dad had been using the night he’d died.
Dexie frowned when she saw a pink envelope with her name on it propped up against one of the stacks of papers. To her knowledge, there had never been anything pink in this room except her when she’d been forced to wear a dress, as a small child, for the Founder’s Day Parade. With her heart pounding violently in her chest, Dexie moved to sit in the antique wooden office chair. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the envelope. She stared at her name and tried to calm her rampaging emotions. It was her mother’s handwriting… something she hadn’t seen for so long it made her heart ache.
Slowly, Dexie ran her finger under the flap of the envelope and opened it to reveal a card covered in roses. Tears filled her eyes as she read the words “I love you” on the front. Dexie closed her eyes and took several deep breaths before she opened her eyes and the card. Although the inside of the card was blank, a folded piece of paper slipped out to fall on the desk. Putting the card down, she picked up the paper and opened it to find a letter from her mom.
The words swam on the page as Dexie stared at her mother’s words, tears falling from her eyes as she sobbed. Her heart was breaking with the idea that BJ or Brent may have threatened or hurt her mom. Elaine McBride had known in the end and Dexie had let her fear keep her from being in Peace when Elaine had needed her most. She longed to talk to her mom, to be held and told that everything would work itself out, and to apologize for staying away.
Dexie stood, still holding the letter in her hand and wiped the tears from her face. BJ hadn’t won. Brent had been exposed for the pig he was. And Dexie needed her mother. Without going any farther into the house, Dexie left the office and the house. She paused as she walked toward the Jeep, a single flower in the beds that lined the outside of the house swaying in the breeze catching her eye. Dexie looked closer to see the flower was just beginning to bloom and it was her father’s favorite… a peace rose.
Dexie left the ranch and drove to the cemetery, her heart flipping between devastation and hope. She parked and walked to where her parent’s headstones were, where Brent had found her after she’d tried, unsuccessfully, to sneak into town. Someone had been there and left a bouquet of freshly cut peace roses in the little container and Dexie’s tears started falling again. She knelt on the ground, clutching her mother’s letter to her chest and mourned the loss of her parents, the loss of ten years of life with the people she loved, and the loss of her innocence to the cruelty of the Harrington’s. Ten years of heartache poured from her until she had no more tears and she just knelt there, staring blindly. Time and comfort ceased to matter.
A warm hand on her back brought Dexie back to the reality that she was still kneeling on the hard, chilly ground and that her eyes were once again nearly swollen shut. Blinking as time began to grind forward again, she looked up to see Dray’s concerned face. Numb and disoriented, Dexie shifted to sit on her backside, instantly hating the icy chill that flooded her feet and legs followed by painful tingling.
“What’s wrong, Dexie?” Dray asked in a worried voice.
“She found out,” Dexie croaked.
“Who found what out?” he frowned.
“My mom. She figured out what BJ and Brent did. She knew everything.” Dexie breathed hoarsely as she held out the mangled paper with her mother’s letter on it. Desolate and as lonely as she’d ever been, Dexie stared at the headstone as Dray took the paper and began reading.
“She never said,” Dray gaped. “Not once.”
He sat heavily on the ground next to Dexie in shock. Dray looked at her and shook his head as he murmured. “And BJ had been trying to keep tabs on you. I’m so glad you had Rosie and her devious plots that kept him from finding you.”
“Me too,” Dexie’s voice broke. Dray put his arm around her shoulders and she fell into his embrace, aching to find respite from her desperate loneliness.
Dexie lost track of time again as Dray simply held her, silently supporting her and sharing her sorrow.
“How did you know where to find me?” she finally asked after a long time.
“I finished my errand, so I went to check on you at the ranch and you weren’t there. I figured you were here.” Dray answered. “We should get you off the ground and find some food if you’re hungry.”
Dexie wondered if she’d ever be hungry again as Dray helped her to stand. He stood, dusting off the back of his jeans. She looked around, searching for anything to guide her. Everything seemed as horrible as it had been the night she’d been left in Billings. Dexie looked up into Dray’s face as he put his arms around her, wrapping her in a warm embrace.
“Dexie, I know it feels shitty right now, but you aren’t alone. And you did the best you could with the situation. Your mom would have been so proud of you.” He sighed morosely. His words were a soothing balm to her broken heart as she clung to him.
“I miss her. I could have been with her at the end if I’d only had the guts.”
“You didn’t know. And as much as you or I, or even your mom would like to take the blame for the last ten years of misery, the Harrington’s are ultimately responsible. You’re beautiful and strong… strong enough to take on Brent and win.”
“But did I win? He still beat the shit out of me.” Dexie frowned.
“You did win. You lived to show him for the piece of shit he is. He’s in jail up to his neck in charges that boggle the mind including attempted murder. And he was ordered held without bail. You gave Peace and her residents freedom from the Harrington’s and their chokehold. You’ve given me a reason to reallocate my priorities. All wins in my opinion.” Dray listed, finishing with a smirk, his grey eyes dancing with humor. Dexie chuckled as she let his words ease her misery. She looked up at him and nodded.
“Thanks, Dray.”
“Anytime. And Dexie, I know this is probably disrespectful on more levels than I want to consider, but…” Dray’s voice faded, his eyes locked with hers, as his face inched toward hers. There was something in his eyes that she’d never seen there before, a heat that held a promise. Dexie’s heart threatened to leave her chest and breathing became an afterthought. Vaguely, she felt one of his hands at the small of her back holding her close while his other hand cupped her cheek gently. Mesmerized by the intoxicating fire burning in Dray’s eyes, captive of his large hands holding her possessively, and incapable of any thought beyond him, time ceased to move for Dexie again.
In the instant Dray’s lips pressed to hers, Dexie felt herself slipping willingly under his spell. Heat suffused her body as odd tingles tripped through her, making her racing heart attempt flight. Dexie’s hands tightened around the fabric of the shirt he wore and the distant notion that she was grateful for his strength, as she no longer had any, flashed through her mind. When Dray’s tongue traced her lower lip, Dexie invited him to taste more. Tremors started deep within her as she tasted Dray’s possession. Certain agony was imminent if he stopped, Dexie was positive of this.
A thrill of desire rippled through her as Dray’s hand on her back pulled her even tighter to his solid body and his other hand slipped into her hair, coming to rest at the back of her head. Dray’s soft, low moan drifted to her ears and sent goosebumps shimmying across her skin. The ache of desire within Dexie intensified as he lifted his head a fraction, his breath as thready as her own. Her body quaked as she tried to find the ability to do even the most simple of things. Dray’s forehead rest against hers, his eyes closed as he, too, struggled.
“Welcome home, Dexie,” Dray murmured.