Page 9 of The Locksmith’s Promise (The Promise Duet #1)

The Missing Years

M aggie

I couldn’t have felt more conspicuous if I’d shown up in my birthday suit with a giant red bow on my naked ass.

Scanning the restaurant for threats, I immediately clocked Baxter’s old friends Eric and John at one table, my parents at another.

My heart sank. How could I possibly sit here and pretend everything was okay with half of Moose Lake there to bear witness?

Baxter’s soft touch to the small of my back beckoned me to curl into his chest and hide away from the world.

Shame for the choices I made and the choices I stole unfurled in my stomach.

“It’ll be okay, Mags,” he murmured low, for my ears only.

Stiff as a board, I nodded minutely as Corwin bounded over to talk to his grandparents.

I followed at a much more sedate pace. It would have been slower still if not for Baxter’s gentle prodding.

“Hi, baby,” Mom murmured, her eyes darting between Baxter and me.

I leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“Are you okay?” she breathed in my ear.

I swallowed tightly and tucked my hair behind my ear as I straightened. “I’m okay.”

Baxter held out his hand to my father. “Hello, Sir. It’s good to see you again.”

My father grasped Baxter’s hand with no hesitation. “Probably time you called me Keith. It’s good to see you, Bax.”

“Same, Sir.”

Turning to my mom, Bax offered her that sweetly disarming smile. “Mrs. Raynor.”

My mother smiled warmly. Standing, she drew him in for a brief hug. “It’s Laurie, Bax.”

My father cleared his throat. “How have things been since you’ve been back?”

Stuffing his hands into his front pockets, Bax nodded. “Good. Word’s getting around and I’m starting to pick up work.”

Dad’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, yeah? What is it you do?”

“General contractor and master locksmith.”

The chatter that had rumbled along at a dull roar had quieted to the point we could have been in church.

My neck snapped up and I looked around pointedly, gratified when heads turned back to their companions and conversation resumed.

Sometimes pulling out my teacher persona paid off.

My dad grinned and shook his head. “Locksmith, eh? I suppose we should have anticipated that.”

Baxter huffed out a soft laugh, his cheeks growing rosy. “Probably.”

My dad’s tone changed. “We need to have a conversation soon.”

“Dad!” I exclaimed, but he held up a staying hand. “Not about you, Maggie.” He waved a finger between all of us. “We’re family, now. It’ll be good to clear the air.”

Baxter’s shoulders simultaneously dropped and drew back as he stood taller, his big body claiming more space. “I look forward to it, Sir.”

While my eyes locked on the exchange between Baxter and my dad, I failed to notice Corwin sliding into one of the empty chairs.

“We need another chair,” he exclaimed.

My dad shook his head. “Your dad wants time with you, Cor. There’ll be time enough for family dinners. How about we have you and your mom and dad over to our house on Saturday?”

The blood drained from my face.

Everything was moving too fast.

In my peripheral vision, I saw Baxter catch my reaction. Felt him shrink into himself once more.

Much to my astounded ears, I replied. “That sounds good.”

Baxter darted a look in my direction. “Are you sure, Mags?”

Corwin’s happy grin stiffened my resolve.

I nodded firmly. “As my dad said, we’re family.”

Baxter blew out a shaky breath.

But we weren’t out of the woods yet.

On our way to our table, Eric whistled sharply and waved Baxter over.

With a grin, Baxter herded us toward him like unwilling sheep. Well, one of us was unwilling. Corwin bounced along beside his dad like a helium-filled, rubber ball.

“Well, if it isn’t the locksmith!” John exclaimed. “Good to have you back. You are back, aren’t you?”

Holding his hands out to his sides, Baxter smiled wryly, “Do you see me here?”

“Asswipe,” Eric muttered with a smirk. “You back to stay?”

Baxter nodded then jerked his chin toward Corwin. With a proud smile, he proclaimed, “This is my son, Corwin.”

John’s eyebrows rose theatrically as if he hadn’t already heard the news through the grapevine.

I rolled my eyes. “You should probably stick to fire fighting and rescuing kittens, John. You’d never make it in Hollywood.”

Ignoring me, he turned to Corwin. “Great to meet you, Cor,” he boomed and held his massive fist up for a bump.

“Boom!” Corwin exploded his fist off John’s, eliciting a chuckle from all three men.

Eyes softening, John turned back to me. “It’s good to see you, Maggie.”

“It’s good to see you, too, John,” I murmured.

“I can’t believe they let you two mother—” Baxter caught himself. “truckers play with fire.”

I barked out a laugh at Corwin’s delighted grin at his father’s near curse.

“I only play with it part-time,” Eric joked. “I took over the family farm.”

“Cattle?” Baxter asked.

Eric nodded. “And we’ve expanded to include sheep, hay, and a Christmas tree farm.”

My eyebrows rose. “A Christmas tree farm?”

Eric flushed and grumbled, “Did that for the wife. She thought it was romantic.”

I grinned and teased, “You big softy.”

Standing, Eric circled round the table and opened his arms, his Moose Lake Fire t-shirt stretched tight across his enormous chest.

Without a second thought, I stepped inside his embrace. Eric had always been a big teddy bear.

Rocking me back and forth, he murmured, “It’s good to have you back. Both of you. All of you,” he corrected.

I closed my eyes briefly. “It’s good to be back.”

And it was true.

Drawing back, I looked for Baxter the way I always had.

Harsh lines of longing had settled onto his handsome face.

And imprinted on my fractured heart.

He’d always gotten the short end of the stick.

And, God help me, I gave up on him too soon. In the end, I was no different from everybody else.

Shaken, I missed most of the conversation with John, not coming back around until we slid into the booth Baxter chose for us.

And just as we settled, Sergent Elliott walked in.

Closely cropped hair, now steel grey, his handlebar moustache as imposing as ever, he stopped just inside the restaurant and scanned the interior much like I had. Catching sight of Baxter, he made a beeline for our table.

I nearly banged my forehead off the table in frustration.

Noting the determined look on Sarge’s face, it took everything in me not to leap to my feet in his defense.

Taking me by surprise, Baxter stood and extended his hand with a warm smile. “Sergeant.”

“Baxter.”

The sergeant pulled him in by his hand and slapped him on the back, his grey eyes softening. “It’s good to have you back, son.”

Baxter laughed softly. “You sure about that?”

He nodded and cleared his throat before jerking his chin at Corwin. “Who’s this big guy?”

Baxter’s chest expanded, pride setting his dark eyes aflame. “This is my son, Corwin.”

Sergeant Elliott nodded and gruffly acknowledged, “He looks like the both of you. It’s good to have you home, Corwin.”

“Thank you, Sergeant.” Corwin gazed up at him, eyes wide.

His eyes continued to follow him as he walked away. “That…” Speechless, he waved his hand over his mouth.

Baxter laughed. “Yeah, buddy. It was pretty fu- freaking impressive when I was a kid, too.”

Corwin laughed again at Baxter’s near miss, and the rest of the evening went smoothly.

Despite the missing years, their conversation flowed with little effort. They built dreams and discussed plans. A daytrip into the city to purchase a guitar loomed large in their near future.

And as much as I wanted all of it, as much as I’d hoped and planned and dreamed of it, the walls closed in.

I couldn’t escape the curious looks, though everyone in town had to know our story.

At least, they knew most of it and could probably guess the rest.

Corwin, blessedly oblivious, bounded off to tell his grandparents about the guitar.

“It’ll pass, Mags,” Baxter murmured.

My gaze shot to meet his. “What?”

He smiled, his eyes soft with shared understanding.

“It’ll pass. The sergeant will shave off his moustache or Eric will sink another tractor in the lake, and everyone will talk about that instead of us.”

I snorted out a laugh at the memory. “It’s probably still down there.”

He grinned. “It is. Miller told me every time the water level drops you can see it.”

I laughed.

He reached across the table and rested one finger on the back of my hand.

It burned like a brand.

My smile faded as I met his eyes and whispered his name, “Bax.”

He smiled hesitantly. “Maggie. I can’t believe I’m sitting across from you after all this time.”

Frozen in place, I stared back at him.

“I missed you, Maggie,” he murmured. “I’ve missed you for all these years.”

“You never tried to contact me,” I blurted.

He grimaced. “At first, I couldn’t. Later, I thought it was best for you.”

“Best for me,” I echoed, my voice flat. I knew I should move my hand but couldn’t relinquish the painful pleasure of that simple touch.

If he’d wanted me, he would have gotten in contact.

Maybe not that first year, but after.

His mouth twisted. “Obviously, I was wrong.”

I shook my head and slumped in my seat at the reminder. “I should have made sure you knew about Corwin.”

He covered my hand with his and tightened his grip. “It’s not just about Corwin.”

If he’d wanted me, he would have gotten in contact.

A sweet, numbing relief settled over me.

“It’s only about Corwin,” I corrected softly. Gently, I dragged my hand out from under his and sat back as far as I could. “See, if it was about me, you would have reached out.”

He shook his head sharply and leaned toward me, his face flushing. “That’s not true—”

Corwin bounded over and slid back into the booth beside me. “Grandma says I should get a red one with flames. Grandpa says he prefers an acoustic.”

“We’ll get both,” Baxter declared as Corwin’s eyes popped out of his head.

I frowned.

“Maggie, I’m trying to save your eardrums,” he explained. “Nobody needs to hear the electric guitar at all hours of the day and night.”

I forced the frown from my face.

The truth was, I was envious.