River took another muffin from the tin before handing it to Walker. “If you need backup,” he said to Jax, “just holler.”
Boone lingered a moment longer, his pale eyes shifting from Nessie to Jax. Finally, he nodded once and followed River toward the barn, where Anson was working on a horse’s hoof while Jonah soothingly stroked its black muzzle.
Walker was the last to leave. “Come find me in the barn when you’re done,” he said to Jax, then tipped his hat to Nessie. “Thanks for the muffins.”
“Your favorite’s in there.”
A genuine smile broke across his rugged face. “Knew it would be.”
He turned to walk away, but she stopped him.
“Oh, wait. Jax needs his muffin.” If she let him go into that barn with all of them, Jax wouldn’t get one. She took the monster muffin from the tin, then selected a blueberry one for herself.
Walker offered her another smile and, if she wasn’t mistaken, there was a knowing twinkle in his deep blue eyes that had heat rising up into her cheeks. Then he was gone, leaving them alone in the yard with nothing but the sound of horses shifting in their stalls and the distant call of a hawk circling overhead.
Nessie held out the monster muffin, her hand trembling slightly. “Um, Oliver insisted you need this.”
Jax stared at the green muffin with its candy eyes and the toothy, lopsided grin drawn on with frosting. She’d debated with herself for a good ten minutes whether or not to include the eyes, but ultimately did because her son would have been outraged at a monster muffin with no eyes.
Jax finally accepted it carefully, like it might bite him. His fingers brushed hers in the exchange. His hands were warm, calloused, and she noticed a fresh scrape across his knuckles.
“He made this for me?” His voice was rougher than she remembered.
“Well, I made it, but he drew on the smile.” The words tumbled out in a rush. “He’s been asking about you non-stop. Wanted to know if you were coming back to the bakery.”
Jax’s fingers tightened around the muffin. “Kid shouldn’t be thinking about me.”
“Maybe not. But he is. He likes you.”
Something flickered across Jax’s face. Surprise, maybe even pain. He looked down at the ridiculous green muffin with its googly candy eyes like it was some kind of puzzle he couldn’t solve.
“I didn’t come here about the muffins,” Nessie said finally. “I came to warn you.”
His head snapped up, hazel eyes locking onto hers. “Warn me about what?”
“Sheriff Goodwin knows I gave you a ride yesterday morning. He knows you were walking away from where they found...” She swallowed hard. “Where they found Bailee Cooper’s body.”
Jax went very still. The kind of stillness that preceded violence or flight. “And?”
“And he’s looking for someone to blame. The whole town’s talking about it. About you.” The words felt like broken glass inher throat. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. I should have kept my mouth shut, but he cornered me and I?—”
“You told him the truth.” His voice was flat, emotionless. “That’s what normal people do.”
“Normal people don’t throw innocent men to the wolves.”
“Who says I’m innocent?”
The question hung between them like a blade. Nessie studied his face, searching for some hint of guilt or deception, but found only exhaustion and a bone-deep weariness that made her chest ache.
“I do,” she said simply.
He barked out a laugh that held no humor. “You don’t know me, lady. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
“I know you helped me change a tire when you didn’t have to. I know you were gentle with my son.” She took a step closer, close enough to see the flecks of blue in his gray eyes. “And I know you didn’t kill that girl.”
“How?”
Because I’ve looked evil in the face and kissed it goodnight for five years. Because I know what a monster looks like when it’s pretending to be a man.