“I’ll do that.” Wes nodded. “Gonna go clean the tack now.”
Mac frowned as he stared around the stables. Turning back to Grace, he let his gaze go over her carefully, looking for any signs of injury or distress.
She snuffled and nudged his arm for attention, but nothing seemed out of the way. Patting the horse’s neck in farewell, Mac checked the lock on the stall before heading outside to the dog basking in the sun. But too many coincidences were suddenly beginning to add up.
Pappy seemed well, eager for attention and as playful as always. Mac stared back at the stables, though, as he petted the animal, wondering if they were being watched now.
Wes was a strange little person on a good day, but he had never seemed paranoid or forgetful in making certain the latches on the stall doors were secured.
With Keiley’s lost comb earlier in the week, the rumors of a ménage no one should know about, and now this, he was starting to slip back into agent mode. And he didn’t like that. It had taken nearly two years for him to shake free of the almost paranoid suspicions that came with his job at the Bureau. But was it paranoia, or were he and Keiley being targeted?
“Come on, boy, we’ll find you a treat.” Mac patted the dog one last time before he moved through the gate and headed to the house, the dog trotting happily at his heels.
Stepping through the backdoor, Mac pulled one of the store-bought dog bones Keiley kept on hand for the dog from a shelf and tossed it out to Pappy. He loped happily away, the smoked meat bone clutched possessively in his mouth.
As he closed the door, he could hear the drone of the Harley in the front drive and grunted at the time. Jethro was back well before midnight. Mac was surprised. He had expected to have to collect Jethro, not to mention a mangled Harley. It wouldn’t be the first time he had done so. Jethro had totaled his own ride four years ago, and Mac had sworn he would never allow his friend on his own Harley.
Moving through the house, he met Jethro as he entered the front door.
“Your key, my friend.” Jethro tossed him the key and a rakish smile. “That’s quite a little town you have. Lots and lots of scenery, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“I don’t mind in the least.” Mac pocketed the key as he motioned Jethro back to his office.
He could hear Keiley back upstairs, the sound of the vacuum cleaner droning down the stairs.
“Were you able to find out anything?”
“Only that Delia Staten hates Keiley with a passion that most women reserve for loving men,” Jethro grunted. “She has a hard-on for your marriage, Mac. That’s a dangerous thing.”
“I already figured that one out, Jethro.”
“Well, figure this one out. What little bit I was able to charm from a few of the ladies I talked to in town, it seems Delia Staten is the one spreading the rumor that we’re sharing your pretty wife. But no one knows how she found out I was here so quickly.”
“One of the farmhands, no doubt.” Mac grimaced, trying to push suspicion aside. “There’s not a whole hell of a lot that you can keep secret here. For Keiley’s sake, I had hoped to keep this a secret, though.”
Mac raked his fingers through his hair as he paced to the wide window and stared out at the stables. Wes was still down there, closing up the stables for the night, making certain the horses were comfortable before he left. Suspicion hell.
“How did she hit upon the truth, though?” Mac murmured. “I told Keiley it was coincidence, but that doesn’t sit well in my gut, Jethro. She knows something she shouldn’t know.”
Jethro shrugged easily. “She could have friends in Virginia. It’s a small world now, Mac.”
“Then the rumors would have begun sooner. As you said, Delia has a hard-on for my marriage.”
“What do you want to do? I could take a room in town—”
Mac was shaking his head even as the words were coming out of his friend’s mouth.
“This is my home and my life,” he growled, restraining the anger beginning to build inside him. “I don’t mess with their sex lives and they will stay out of mine. Period. I’ll make certain of it.”
Jethro winced. “Cowboy tactics aren’t going to work here, Mac.”
“I was raised in this town, Jethro,” Mac pointed out savagely. “Born and bred here. I know how to handle them. You don’t.”
Some people understood only one thing. Fear. He might not have been back to Scotland Neck in the fifteen years before his marriage, but he had made a point to learn everything he could before he returned.
He had to admit, he hadn’t expected Delia to throw a wrench in the works. But he would take care of her through her husband and her mother-in-law. He knew where to strike that viper for the most effect.
“That doesn’t solve where the information came from,” Jethro pointed out.