Page 63 of Close Match
“It started as a much-needed break,” he admits. “I officially resigned, though I did give thought about returning to my team. But soon the days turned into weeks into months. And I couldn’t bear to wear my shield again. I realized I came home,” he concludes. “As much as I miss it some days, I can’t go back.”
“Did something happen? Something that made you not want to be an agent anymore?” I ask cautiously.
“You could say that.” His voice is tight. I decide to steer the getting-to-know-you questions in a different direction.
“So, how hard was it to make the transition from the city to the farm? I have to admit, I’m having some difficulty without the lack of noise outside my window.” I can feel the vibrations from Monty’s laugh against my back.
“At first, it was like a massive power outage. Like a grid went out or something,” he agrees.
“Yes! That describes it perfectly. Like some buildings were smart enough to have power but not ours!” I twist a little only to find him smiling down at me beneath the brim of his hat with warm hazel eyes. I clear my throat and break our eye contact. “Anyway, you were saying?”
“It wasn’t completely atrocious since I used to live here and then visited often enough. What was difficult was the men looking to Ev for confirmation when I was directing their work. Here I was supposed to be relieving his stress, and they were bringing him more of it.”
“Relieving his stress? Is everything okay?” The panic in my voice is real.
“Nothing for you to be concerned with, Linnie.” There’s a stretch of silence as Monty guides us between some trees at the ridge. I didn’t realize we’d traveled so far until he turns Hatchet around and we look back at the property. Ev’s home looks like a dollhouse from the distance we’re at. We’ve stopped at the top of a crest covered in lush wildflowers. Monty keeps a firm rein on Hatchet to keep her from nibbling on more than a few of the beautiful blooms.
“How far away are we?”
“About a mile. Nothing too far.”
“It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it.” And it’s true. New York is filled with a sharp edge, but this is quietly filling a different part of me I didn’t know I had to be topped off.
“It’s home,” Monty affirms. “Maybe that’s why it was easy for me to come back to.”
And maybe that’s why I’m having such a hard time adjusting. Because as welcoming as Ev and his family have been, as generous as they are, it still doesn’t feel like home to me.
It may never be.
Thirty-Four
Montague
“No. Hire a tour bus if you need to, but none of you are driving into the district.” I sound like a parent lecturing three teenagers instead of my parents and Linnie. And by the look on all of their faces, they’re all thinking the same thing. Sticking my fork out at my mother, I tell her, “You and Ev get lost trying to drive down in DC, and Linnie shouldn’t drive for all our sakes.”
“That’s it, sell me out,” Linnie jokes as Mom and Ev turn to gape at her. “I haven’t driven since I was a kid,” she explains. “If I needed to get somewhere, I walked.”
“Or called Uber.”
Linnie tosses her hair over her shoulder. “There is nothing wrong with Uber Black.”
“No rideshare with your fellow New Yorkers?” I tease her.
“Listen, I take plenty of subways. When I’m in a car, I like my privacy,” she retorts.
I shake my head in mock sadness. “Now see? If you knew how to drive, you could see all the sights without a chauffeur.”
Linnie throws her roll at me. I catch it before forking a bit of chicken and shoving it in. “Delicious, Mom.”
She shakes her head and uses her fork to point at Linnie. “Thanking the wrong cook, son.”
My brows arch. “Wait just a second. You know how to cook? You don’t have a staff of twelve who waits on you?”
Rolling her eyes, Linnie cuts off a bite of her own grilled chicken breast atop spicy ginger noodles. “Do you? I mean Ev’s home is much larger than mine.” She shoves the small bite in her mouth and chews. Swallowing, she continues. “And aside from the people who work at the farm, I haven’t seen anyone around here to help your mom with the house, which is why I offered to cook dinner.” She blushes before turning her attention back to her meal.
“We do have people who come in, Linnie,” Ev says gently. “They’re just not live-in. We prefer our privacy that way.”
“Char let me know when I was cooking. It was a relief, that’s for sure. I had visions of her pushing a vacuum, and all I could hear was my own mother saying, ‘Darling, at my age, there are certain things a woman just doesn’t do.’” Linnie mimics her mother’s voice beautifully before her face falters. Her fork clatters to the side of her dish.
