That startled her into another laugh and she smacked his chest as she passed him. ‘I wasn’t drooling.’ God, she hoped she wasn’t. She touched the corner of her mouth, spinning to glare at him when his laugh boomed loud and happy.
‘Made you check,’ he taunted, closing the door with a snap.
‘You’re a child,’ she called through the door primly, then, ignoring his deep chuckle, went to the little kitchenette in search of coffee.
‘Oh, thank the good Lord,’ she murmured at the sight of a Keurig machine. This she could do. She turned it on and started a cup, then found her phone, checking for any messages from the group.
The group. She paused a moment, letting it sink in. She was part of the group now, the family, and not just because she was Gideon’s sister. She was part of Farrah’s family too, and part of John’s and all her sibs’. She loved that she’d been folded into those families, but this felt different in a very good way.
You’re going to leave. And you’ll lose this.
She frowned. ‘If I do leave, I’ll still be a part of them. I won’t let Gideon go again.’
‘Or me, I hope,’ Rafe said, startling her again.
She glared up at him. ‘You need to wear a goddamn bell.’
He grinned, unrepentant. ‘I talk to myself, too. Sometimes I even answer. What’s for breakfast?’
‘I don’t know,’ she replied sweetly. ‘What were you planning to make?’
His grin softened to a smile and he dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. ‘Pancakes.’ He pointed to the counter. ‘Pull up a stool. I’ll get your coffee.’
She obeyed and watched contentedly as he held on to the counter for balance, bending over to pull a pan from the cabinet and showcasing a very nice butt in the sweats he’d slept in. He was still shirtless, which she thought he was doing on purpose, but she wasn’t about to complain. She touched the corner of her mouth again, just to make sure that she really wasn’t drooling.
‘I left a new toothbrush on the counter in the bathroom,’ he said as he poured pancake mix into a bowl. ‘And I found a hairbrush that Daisy left behind. I’d offer you her clothes, but you’re a little taller than she is.’
‘Like eight inches,’ Mercy protested. ‘That’s not a “little”, Rafe.’
He looked over his shoulder, waggling his brows. ‘You shouldn’t open doors like that, Mercy.’
She frowned at him. ‘Like what?’
He chuckled. ‘Never mention “eight inches” around a guy. We’ll just snicker.’
She considered what she’d said, then shook her head. ‘You really are a big kid, aren’t you?’
He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Keep ’em coming, Mercy. I am a very big kid.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ she muttered, but she laughed. ‘I’ll be right back.’
She returned to the bathroom and freshened up as best she could. She hoped that Sasha was a heavy sleeper, because she was going to have to slip into the apartment and pick up some clean clothes.
She slid back on the counter stool, a little disappointed to see that Rafe had put on a shirt. ‘So now you’re modest?’ she asked, sipping the coffee he’d put next to a plate and silverware.
‘No, now I’m frying bacon,’ he said, pointing to a pan. ‘I don’t care for third-degree burns, thanks.’ Then he grinned. ‘But I’ll take my shirt off again after I’m done cooking if you ask me nicely.’
She shook her head, charmed, as she opened her email on her phone. Then squinted at an email address that she didn’t recognize. Her heart sank for a second or two, thinking that the messages were in response to that damn article, but then she smiled. ‘Hey, we got two replies to all those Pinterest emails we sent yesterday.’
‘All right! What do they say?’
‘This one is from Kay in Maine. She bought one of Amos’s tables. She said she bought it about five years ago, in a shop near Crater Lake. That might be too long ago to help us.’
Rafe flipped the pancakes. ‘What about the second one?’
Mercy read it, then looked up, barely able to contain a squeal of excitement. ‘This one is from Diana in Phoenix. She bought the quilt that Eileen’s mother made. She bought it back in October.’
Rafe left the stove to read the email over her shoulder. ‘In a shop in Snowbush. Where is that?’ The bacon popped and he hurried back to the stove. ‘Can you look it up on Google Maps?’
‘Already doing it,’ Mercy said, then exhaled slowly. ‘It’s just a speck on the map. The closest town is Likely, California. It’s up in the northeast corner, catty-corner to where the Oregon and Nevada borders meet. Close to the Modoc National Forest.’
Rafe’s eyes were sparkling. ‘So, maybe a four-hour drive?’
‘Four hours and forty-four minutes.’ She drew a deep breath, trying to stay calm enough to think. ‘Can we go and ask the shop where they got the quilt?’
He met her gaze. ‘Absolutely.’
She laughed, feeling giddy. ‘Do we have to tell Tom Hunter?’
‘Do you want to?’
She forced herself to sober, to think. ‘No. I want to check this out myself. Is that wrong?’
He leaned over the counter to brush a kiss over her mouth. ‘No. We’ll tell him if we find something. How’s that?’
She beamed. ‘Perfect. Feed me breakfast and I’ll change my clothes. We can be there by lunch.’
Rafe plated the bacon. ‘We should tell Gideon, though. I don’t want to risk getting ambushed by Burton.’
Mercy’s good mood dimmed a little bit. ‘I know you’re right, but dammit.’
‘I know. I’d love to have ten hours alone with you in the car, but I’m also not willing to risk your life. Also, check the weather. Lassen’s a little south of there and some of those mountain roads stay closed through June.’
‘Oh. I forgot about snow.’
‘I’ve got chains if I need them. I’ll make sure they’re in the back of my Subaru before we leave.’
She glanced at his leg. He was leaning on his cane with one hand, the plate with bacon and pancakes in the other. ‘Can you drive?’
‘Yep. Left leg’s the problem. I’d offer to let you drive, but you forgot about snow.’
‘I’ve lived in New Orleans for eight years and we haven’t had snow in all that time. It gets chilly, but nothing a nice Irish coffee can’t fix.’