“I’m not leaving you alone out here in the middle of the night.”
“It’s almost dawn.” Raising herself to her knees, Ginny started crawling. “We have to do this before daybreak.”
“Why—”
“That’s what I’d like to know.”
A squeak came out of Ginny at the male voice coming from behind a tree in front of them.
Reaper moved his hand behind his back.
“Keep those hands where I can see them, Reaper.”
A flashlight came on as another man walked out from a tree closer to him. The light was bright enough to shine not only on Ginny and him but also on the man who had stopped them.
“Tate.”
“Reaper.”
“What am I? Chopped liver? I don’t get a howdy?”
“Greer.”
“That’s more like it. What you doing down there, Ginny?” Greer asked. “It’s a little early in the season to be looking for our weed patch, ain’t it?”
“Is it?”
Reaper watched as Ginny got to her feet and started edging back to him, trying to hide the trash bag behind her back.
Did she think they were blind? The white trash bag was easily visible even before Greer had turned his flashlight on.
“Then I’ll sneak back in a couple of months.” Ginny turned to go, but Tate’s cold voice stopped her.
“What’s in the bag?”
“Nothing. I just brought it to use when I found your patch.”
“You were planning on taking the whole crop?”
Ginny turned pleading eyes to Reaper to get her out of the mess she found herself in.
Reaper crossed his arms over his chest. It was her ridiculous idea, he thought unsympathetically.
“Yes. Sorry. We’ll be going.”
Greer moved behind them to block them from leaving.
Reaper’s amusement in the situation ended at Greer’s move.
“Move back to where you were.”
The lethal intent had the sound of a rifle being cocked from another tree and a third man stepping out.
“Lower your weapon, Dustin,” Greer ordered. “They just came for a friendly visit. I invited Reaper over to get a taste of our finest. Didn’t plan on him taking the whole smorgasbord, but we don’t have to be inhospitable just because they didn’t come calling at a reasonable hour.”
“The problem isn’t they didn’t call. Toss the bag to me, Ginny,” Tate ordered.
“I can’t. I don’t want you to get cut.”
“Then toss it to the ground in front of me.”
With shoulders slumped, Ginny tossed the plastic bag onto the ground in front of Tate.
“Watch them,” Tate said, bending to untie the bag. Taking a flashlight out of his pocket, he turned it on to shine inside the bag. Looking up at her, Tate then turned the light off to tie the bag back up..
“What was it?” Greer looked toward Tate. “Please tell me it’s a dead racoon. I’ve been trying to take one out for the last month, and Holly won’t let me.”
“It’s a busted mirror. She’s trying to give us her bad luck.”
Dustin raised his rifle again. This time, Tate didn’t tell his brother to lower it.
Reaper wanted to pull his remaining hair out.
“Please tell me you don’t believe in this ridiculousness.”
“We don’t need seven years of bad luck. Take your bag and go. Dustin, make sure they get back over to their side of the fence.”
“Leave it here. I’ll take care of it,” Greer countermanded Tate.
“Who are you going to give it to?” Tate asked.
“The Hayes’.”
He’d had enough. Reaper took Ginny’s hand, making her leave. The Porters wouldn’t shoot a woman, and if they shot him, they’d be doing him a favor.
“You don’t have much time, Greer,” Ginny yelled from over her shoulder. “You have to bury the mirror before daybreak.”
“Listen to her tell me what to do.”
Walking faster, Reaper heard them mouthing off behind their backs, feeling as if he had walked into an episode of the Twilight Zone as fists and punches were exchanged between the Porters.
“Should we go back?” Ginny whispered.
“No.”
“Greer, when I get home, I’ll make you some biscuits and send over a jar of Silas’s honey!” Ginny yelled out.
The fighting stopped.
“Make it three! Tate and Dustin want one to keep their traps closed!” Greer shouted back.
Reaper held Ginny’s hand tighter to speed her up at knowing she’d give them one of Silas’s preserves to sweeten the deal.
“Slow down, Gavin,” she gasped. “They aren’t chasing us.”
“No, because they belong in the looney bin where you belong.”
“Are you mad?”
“Yes.”
“A little or a lot?”
“A lot,” he growled.
“Well, at least you’re not sick to your stomach,” she mumbled.
Gavin turned on his heel at her smart aleck comment. “I’ll tell you what I’m not. I’m not going along with another one of your schemes. I’m not going to bring the honey and biscuits back—”
“I wasn’t going to get you to. I’m doing it.”
“And neither are you! They pointed a loaded weapon at us!”
“Technically, it was pointed at you.”
“Are you laughing at me?”
“A little. Wild man, you were never in any danger. I brought protection.”
His mouth dropped open. “You’re carrying a gun? If you’d tried to pull it out, they’d have shot you dead.” The hand in hers itched to paddle her bottom at her recklessness.
Ginny made a face at him. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see it clearly with the sun beginning to rise. “I didn’t bring a gun.”
“Then what protection are you talking about?”
Ginny gave a shrill whistle. The sound had Suki running toward him out of nowhere.
“She likes you.”
“The feeling isn’t mutual.”
“Come on, admit it; you like her too.”
“Maybe a little,” he conceded.
Ginny started walking, tugging at his hand to get him moving. Suki fell in step at his side.
Staring down at their linked hands when they naturally began swinging between them, Gavin raised his eyes to the rising sun, blaming the sudden wetness in his eyes at the blinding light and not at the regret of a future that was never going to be.
Chapter Forty-Two
“Your ride is here.”
“I’m coming.” Turning from the window, Reaper went to the bed to pick up his suitcase.
“I wish you weren’t going.”
Steeling himself against Ginny’s wistful voice, he carried his suitcase to the doorway where she was standing. “I don’t need to be here. I’ve tested negative four times, and it’s been over nine days; if I had any symptoms, they would have shown by now. I’m good to go.”
Ginny didn’t move to let him pass. “Aren’t you worried about Silas? I think he put something in my coffee this morning.”