Page 59 of Protecting Her Secrets

The alarm sounds again, forcing my brain to wake up enough to realize the reason I didn’t silence them last night. Clicking into the app, I choose the last video showing movement. I cleared the road yesterday when we left the house, so that’s where I expected to find the alert, but it’s not. I play a videofrom one of my trail cams, realizing that almost five minutes have passed, which is plenty of time for someone to storm the house. As much as I’d like to think I’m ready for Klutch to try something, I’m obviously not.

I don’t have to worry about that this morning, though, because traveling over the snow is a bright yellow ATV with a pink cab cover and blue rims. They’re moving at the speed of a slug, giving me plenty of time to take a piss, brush my teeth, and pull on some clothes. I’m leaving the bedroom when Skylar rouses.

“Where are you going?”

“Remember how I told you about Miss Martha and Luther?”

“Yeah?”

A knock sounds on the door, making Sprocket bark. “They’re here.”

She sits up. “What time is it?”

“Six. Go back to sleep; you don’t need to come down.”

“I want to. You said they’re like your grandparents, so I need to get to know your family.”

“Okay. Come down when you’re ready then. Oh, by the way, I stopped at your rental car and grabbed your bag. I know it’s not much, but we’ll get your clothes replaced soon.”

“You did?” The utter shock in her face reminds me she hasn’t had anyone take care of her for a while. It makes me all the more determined to be that person.

I kiss her forehead before dashing to the door, not wanting them in the cold for too long. Sprocket worms his way outside as I pull the door open to find the elderly couple sneaking treats to my cow and goats. I watch them with affection, grateful to have them as neighbors.

“You’re spoiling them,” I call out.

“Hush. If these are the only great grand-babies I get, then I’ll spoil them if I want to,” Miss Martha says, scratchingMoodonna’s nose. “Then again, I heard you’re hiding a girl here.”

“Let me guess. Lavanya?” I should’ve known the second we walked into the diner, the whole town would find out.

“It’s not like you bothered to call,” Luther says.

I slip on my boots and step out into the cold, offering an elbow to both of them. “It just barely happened. There wasn’t time.”

They release me when we reach the mudroom, and I help them with their coat, gloves, and boots. Miss Martha used to live in New York as a fashion magazine editor, so despite moving to a small town in the mountains, she’s dressed impeccably. Somehow, her crisp white button-down is unwrinkled, as are her tailored pants. She has a brightly colored silk scarf tied around her neck, a coordinating one tied around her head in a beautifully complicated way. And I’ve never seen the woman without her signature red lipstick that pops against her brown skin.

In contrast, Luther is a local and dresses like it. His worn jeans are held up by bright red suspenders the feed store sells, and his plaid button-down is so old, it has real Mother of Pearl buttons. He’s not one to waste time grooming himself, so he keeps his tightly coiled salt and pepper curls cropped short, and after spending years as a working man in the sun, he has deep-set wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes.

“Gimme a hug, son,” Miss Martha says, her arms open wide. “How have you been?”

I sigh as I breathe in the woman who single-handedly convinced me that sometimes, family is chosen. “Good. You guys make it through this last storm okay?”

“Of course. I’d apologize for dropping in like this, but I’m not sorry at all. Do you know how embarrassing it was for me tohear from Lavanya that you’ve been married the whole time I’ve known you? You know that woman likes to gloat.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

“Well, we’re here now, and I want to hear all about it.” Her dark brown eyes scan the kitchen and living room. “Did you scare her away already, son?”

“What? No. She’ll be down in a minute. We were up late last night, so we slept in a little.”

“That’s my boy.” Luther slaps my back. “You gotta keep them love drunk, or else they get bored and start asking you to go antiquing or take a salsa class.”

“We did both of those things last summer, so what does that say about you?” Martha looks the man up and down.

“Hi,” Skylar says, sidling up to my side.

“Well, there she is.” Martha takes both Skylar’s hands and does what appears to be a thorough inspection. “And you’re so lovely.”

“Miss Martha, Luther, this is my wife, Skylar.” The more I call her that, the more I like the sound of it.

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