Page 26 of When the Smoke Clears

As he crawls under the covers, he opens his arm up for me to snuggle closer. “You are far from helpless, Firecracker.”

If he knows about the ache between my thighs, he doesn’t show it. I blame my stupid stitches. He crushes me to his side and neither of us speaks as we rest against each other. Like last night, it isn’t long before his even breathing has me on the verge of sleep. I wrap my arm over his warm body, desperate to stay in this moment, in this perfect safe space, for a little longer.

By Tuesday, my brain seems to have cleared enough to handle all the things I’ve been avoiding at Strickland Ranch.

After coffee, I make my way onto the front porch of The Big House and settle into a creaky rocking chair. I wonder if these were also made by Sutton’s grandfather.

I make my anticipated first call of the day. As Nana’s lawyer and executor of her will, if Hank hasn’t been notified of what took place at the house, he needs to know. He answers on the second ring.

“Hank Campbell speaking.” He has such a smooth voice. It’s not as deep as Sutton’s, but still just as comforting.

“Hi Hank, this is Maci McCullough, Ruthie’s granddaughter.” My feet press harder onto the wood planks of the porch, picking up speed in the noisy chair. “Unfortunately, I’m calling with news on the house.”

“I wondered if I was going to hear from you all.”

I pause. “Have you already been notified?”

“Yes. The detective came by my office yesterday morning.” He lets a breath pass. “Are you alright?”

What a loaded question. “I’m healing.”

“Maci, I can’t imagine what that was like for you. I know we aren’t exactly friends, but if you need some legal assistance, let me know and I’ll point you in the right direction.”

My throat threatens to close. “Thank you.”

“I’ve scheduled crime scene cleanup, and I’ll handle all of the behind-the-scenes items.”

“We don’t deserve you.” I hadn’t even considered crime scene cleanup or anything else that needs to be done.

Hank lets out a chuckle. “There’s nothing to deserve. For one, this is the role I signed up for and I’m the most qualified to handle it, anyway. But also, Ruthie was a very kind person and I’m glad to help her family where I can.” He sighs. “It’s not my place to say, but I couldn’t help but notice all the tension in the house while I was there—and I know what the will entailed—so I imagine it didn’t get any easier.”

“That’s a bit of an understatement,” I say, wryly.

“Well, I meant what I said. If I can help in any way, I will.”

The thought of having someone on my side who isn’t family or my boyfriend brings me a sliver of comfort. Someone who has connections and knowledge of the laws. “Thank you.”

“I have a meeting to get to. Was there anything else?” Hank’s voice is soft instead of dismissive.

“No. I really appreciate you, Hank.”

“You bet. Talk to you soon, Maci.”

One call down, two to go.

My second is to the Bull Creek Police Department. I’m surprised I haven’t heard more from Detective Porter about not coming in yet. I leave a message with the officer that answers that I’ll come by tomorrow. He seems unphased by my call.

My final call is the one I’m looking forward to the least: Stephanie.

Chapter 9

Stephanie

Dreadsitsheavyinmy stomach since Mother died. It never occurred to me that we wouldn’t get the chance to mend things. Now, Alan wants to contest the will. I want nothing from my mother’s estate, aside from the few items I brought back after the funeral.

Before James, I thought she’d never be happy with me. I spent so much time as the rebel, I just assumed it wouldn’t happen. After I left him, I was embarrassed. Ashamed. It was then that I decided I needed to shape up. I could be poised and put together. But it didn’t help our relationship. A stable husband who could provide for Maci and me didn’t either. We never could get on the same page.

Contesting the will after all of that just seems like a slap in the face to her. I could never do that.

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