Page 24 of The Locksmith’s Promise (The Promise Duet #1)

Apple Meet Tree

B axter

Clear skies and sunshine greeted the morning of the fall festival. Rolling out of bed, I wasted no time getting ready.

Between teaching and helping her mom with her duties for the festival, I’d barely seen Maggie for the past week. On the upside, I spent lots of time with our son and got to know him on a wholly different level.

He had a wry sense of humour that he did not hesitate to express, and an open, curious outlook on life I wanted to protect at any cost.

He asked questions and made observations without a single ounce of self-preservation. It impressed the hell out of me.

The ghost of my father laughed in my ear at the thought of how easily I could mess him up with just one misstep.

And while things had been progressing well between the three of us, I desperately wanted to take us to the next level: living together as a family.

And for that, we needed a home.

I had ideas, but nothing solid. I had toyed with the idea of selling my father’s house, but it was less than worthless. I’d have to pay to have the house torn down to sell the land. And it wasn’t like there was a booming real estate market up here in Moose Lake.

The idea of renovating it and moving in was not an option; I couldn’t live in that house.

A knock at my door whipped my attention away from the past.

Jogging lightly across the room, I pulled it open to find Corwin bouncing on his toes on the other side.

My brain lit up as a wide smile bloomed across my face. “Hey, bud,” I greeted him, swinging the door wide. “What are you doing?”

Cor walked through the door like he owned the place, and it turned the cold and lonely places in my heart rosy.

He passed through the kitchen, fingers tapping out a drum solo on the countertop. “Mom said I’m driving her crazy. She sent me over here to give her some peace and quiet to get ready.”

I followed behind him with a grin, marveling at the fact he didn’t once look back to track my movements or assess my mood.

It was good, but how the actual fuck was I supposed to partner with Maggie to parent him when I didn’t have the first clue what he needed?

I was a dead weight in the parenting department.

But I could be a paycheck.

A support system.

And I could love them.

Half of Cor’s chatter went in one ear and out the other as I wrestled with my gross ineptitude.

“Dad?”

My gaze whipped around to meet his.

Dad.

Cheeks flushed, he stared back at me steadily.

It was only the second time he’d used that word.

I swallowed. “Yes, Son?”

He smiled, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Are you daydreaming? I just asked you if we could get chickens and you said yes.”

I cleared my throat. “Chickens?”

He laughed. “Yeah, chickens. Mickey says he’s getting rabbits.” His face scrunched. “I don’t think I could eat rabbits, they’re too cute. But I could do eggs. What do you say?”

Chickens.

We needed a house.

“Can we wait until we get a house?” I took an exaggerated look around my tiny apartment. “Not sure where we’d put them.”

He laughed again, loud and free, then eyed me speculatively. “Are we getting a house?”

For a second, I froze, wondering if it was okay for me to share my plans. But if I were him, I’d want to know a plan existed.

And that it included me.

“That’s the plan. A long time ago, I promised your mother a key. I intend to keep that promise.”

“Where?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Wherever your mother wants it.”

“I want to stay in Moose Lake.”

“Noted.”

“Can we stay in Moose Lake?”

I shook my head. “That’s wholly and entirely up to your mom.”

“Huh,” he grunted. “You really like her, eh?”

“You could say that.” I smirked. “You want to head out and see if Miller and Mickey want to play catch?”

By the time the boys tired of the game, Maggie was ready for us.

And I was more than ready to catch up with her.

I’d forgotten just how well Moose Lake could throw a festival. With the small neighbouring communities attending, our main street was packed.

For the most part, Maggie and I wandered around together, catching sight of Corwin and Mickey at the dunk tank, the corn maze, and hassling Mickey’s grandma at the cotton candy machine.

“Excuse me, Maggie,” I murmured. “There’s someone I need to see.”

Though Miller assured me she wanted to see me, I wondered. Had I been a burden, showing up at their house at all hours?

She’d done my laundry.

Fed me.

Paid my extra school fees and more often than not, sent a lunch for me with Miller.

My heart fluttered in my chest.

When she looked up and broke into a huge smile, it fucking took flight.

“Baxter Martin!” she exclaimed, then turned to her grandson and offered him a paper cone. “Here, you little rascal, make your own.”

Bustling out from behind the cotton candy machine, she opened her arms wide and embraced me.

I hugged her back, though my body remained stiff and unyielding.

But the longer she held onto me, the more I softened until I leaned into her.

“That’s better,” she murmured, drawing back. Cupping my face in her hands, she beamed. “It’s good to have you home, you handsome devil.”

I laughed out loud.

She pinched my cheek which only made me smile harder.

“You’re even more handsome now,” she teased. “When are you going to come over and see me?”

“Soon,” I promised.

She nodded happily, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Bring Maggie and that sweet son of yours when you come.”

My heart warmed.

It wasn’t all bad; there were good people and good memories here in Moose Lake.

Mickey’s squeal alerted his grandma to his mischief, and she chased them away from the cotton candy with a final reminder for me to come visit her with ‘my family.’

My family.

I blew out a breath and turned back to Maggie with my heart in my throat. “She was good to me.”

“She’s a good woman,” Maggie murmured. “And you deserved it.”

Clearing my throat, I caught her hand in mine and changed the subject. “What’s your favourite part of the festival?”

“The bonfire,” she answered immediately. “You?”

I frowned. “Not sure.”

I remembered festivals, lots of them, but the details escaped me.

Mostly I remembered steering clear of the beer tent and dying of envy and embarrassment that I rarely had money of my own for things like cotton candy.

I shook off the bad memories.

There would be more memories, so many more I’d make with Maggie and Corwin, and those would be worth keeping.

Bursting with pride at the privilege, I gave Corwin money to buy Mickey and himself lunch at the snack shack while Maggie and I wandered down to the venders.

Knowing Jenny was most certainly set up somewhere in that maze with Buns and Biscuits, I opted to find us a table while Maggie got us lunch.

She returned with a bag from Buns and Biscuits.

Hand trembling, she spread our lunch out on the table between us.

When I managed to meet her eyes, she smiled softly. “Putting the past behind us.”

“You’re okay talking to her?”

She shrugged. “If I’m okay talking to you, I should be okay talking to her. We’re never going to be friends,” she hurried to add, “but we can’t be enemies.”

“That makes sense,” I rasped, my throat tightening at the reminder that I was just as complicit as she was in whatever happened that night.

Maggie expertly steered the conversation to dreams for our future.

How that next step looked.

The type of home we wanted.

She reminded me of all the good bits of Moose Lake that had gotten lost in my nightmares, endlessly entertaining me until her mom called her over to help her set up the pie-eating contest.

I cleared away our garbage and left the table to make room for someone else. Leaning up against a tree, I stuck close to watch Maggie with the added bonus of Corwin and Mickey in my sights as well.

Juggling fucking apples. Where did they get them? I didn’t even know Corwin liked apples all that much.

Their laughter, a combination of guffaws and high-pitched giggles, set off a rumble of joy in my own chest.

I turned my attention back to Maggie, watching as she helped her mom set out the pies, spacing them carefully along the length of the long table.

Back in the day, Miller and I stole half of them and ran off into the forest. My stomach hurt just thinking about it.

“Hey, Maggie,” I called softly.

She looked over her shoulder with a soft smile on her face.

I grinned. “Remember the pie heist?”

Her cheeks pinked as she laughed, shook her head, and held a finger up to her lips. But as her gaze drifted over my shoulder, her smile faded, and her mouth opened in horror.

I whipped around and followed her line of sight.

Corwin stood with his back braced against the archery target, holding an empty cotton candy cone on his head with a fucking apple balanced on top.

Mickey stood twenty feet away from him, notching an arrow into his bow with a look of fierce concentration on his face.

I took off at a run with a roar, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Crossing in front of Mickey in case he actually managed to load that fucking thing, I stalked up to Corwin and knocked the apple off his head.

My heart pounded in my chest, a sharp pain intersecting my lungs as my breath escaped in rough pants.

Eyes wide, he stared up at me.

And so did everybody else.

Ignoring the rest of them, I forcefully lowered my voice, but it didn’t do all that much to soften my words, “Are you fucking crazy? You could have been killed.”

“I’m a really good shot, Bax,” Mickey ventured from behind me.

I turned slowly, catching Maggie in my peripheral vision. “If you want to handle a weapon, any kind of weapon,” I bit out, my voice shaking, “you do it safely. You never fucking point a weapon at anyone, you understand me?”

He dipped his chin. “Yes, sir.”

“How did you get the bow and arrow? They were locked up after the contest.”

Mickey’s lips tightened but he refused to answer.

I blew out a breath and turned back to my own son.

Maggie stood beside him with her arm around his shoulders, murmuring softly in his ear.

But his eyes were on me.