the truck that hit me? Have you found any clues?”
Harlan shook his head. “Not to speak of. There’s a bit of dark paint on your fender, but that’s about all. We took a scraping in case we end up having to send something to the crime lab in Little Rock.”
“Meaning, if whoever ran me off the road doesn’t bother me again nothing will be done?” Maggie folded her arms across her chest to hide a shiver.
“We’ll see. I wouldn’t worry much. Accidents happen. There’s usually nothing sinister about them.”
Beside her, Flint raised his voice. “I don’t believe you people. Did you know she was threatened by Ms. Dodd’s relatives?”
“Ah, Sonny was just blowin’ off steam. Now calm down.” The sheriff gave him a tight smile. “You’ve been away too long. You know this ain’t a big city. We don’t have serious trouble around here. Leastwise not much.”
No serious trouble? Maggie recalled tales of the days when clannishness had divided the town better than any city gang wars could have. Much of what she’d heard as a child had probably been embellished, of course. Small-town gossip was famous for that. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to look into that, too. Now that Flint was home, there was an outside chance her elderly uncle might be involved for reasons other than his poaching. He was hardheaded enough to want to nurture his hatred of the Crawfords and rekindle the generations-old family feud.
What caused her additional worry was the fact that she seemed to be a target, too, probably thanks to her need to tolerate Flint’s presence for the sake of her job. It had been easy to blame rancor against Flint for the shots at the animal center. This so-called accident put a totally different spin on things. This wasn’t a bullet, but it was aimed at her. Was this truly an accident, as the sheriff assumed, or were the incidents related?
Leaving Harlan and Flint arguing, Maggie circled her truck with Wolfie and climbed in. She didn’t have to look in her mirrors to know what she’d see. Flint was going to look fit to be tied.
A lopsided smile lifted her lips—and her spirits. He’d looked so relieved when he found her in the woods she almost hated to annoy him. But she had her limits. Life had forced her to stand on her own two feet, and she wasn’t about to let the man who had almost ruined her life take it over. Not now. Not ever. She had been doing fine by herself, raising her son and providing for him with little outside help from anyone except her mother.
Maggie’s heart warmed at the thought of Mark and Mom. They had been so good for each other: Mark comforting Faye after she was widowed and Faye becoming the grandmother the boy needed to balance his life. It was the perfect arrangement for them all. One she intended to preserve.
As Maggie saw it, all she had to do was pinpoint who was so upset with her—or mad because she’d been seen with Flint—and was acting out. Country people might be obstinate at times, but they were logical thinkers. Sensible and honorable. With God’s help she’d figure out who’d been stirring up trouble.
Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. She hoped nothing altered the peaceful life she’d made for herself in Serenity. If she truly trusted the Lord in everything, she’d be fine. However, the line between self-confidence and letting go and allowing her heavenly Father to guide her could be blurry, especially if she intended to assert her will, which she did.
“Okay, okay,” Maggie said, frustrated. She cast her eyes to the heavens momentarily. “I’ll try to understand and do things Your way, Father, but I’m sure bumfuzzled right now.”
* * *
Flint stood with the sheriff and watched Maggie pull away. He shook his head. “That woman is the most stubborn, impossible person I have ever met.”
“Yup. That’s what keeps her going,” Harlan replied with a grin. “She’s quite mule-headed, our Maggie.”
“She never used to be.”
“Times change. Kids grow up. She was only sixteen when you left, right?”
“Almost seventeen. I was eighteen.”
“And you were skinny as a rail, if I remember right. No wonder you hit the road.”
“Beg pardon?”
Harlan snorted. “Her brothers mighta kilt you, son. Both of ’em outweighed ya by a bunch, and they sure didn’t want you dating their sister.”
“You’re telling me.” Flint sighed. “I tried to get her to elope, you know. She wouldn’t hear of it. Faye had always said she wanted to put on a big wedding for her only daughter, and Maggie was determined to do things her mother’s way.”
“Probably for the best.” The older man lit up a cigar and puffed it slowly. “Did you ever get hitched?”
“Nope. Not even close.”
“Hmm. Maggie was engaged a couple of times but never went through with those weddings. After her father passed away she was pretty much tied to her mother.”
“I suppose that worked out for the best, since she needed Faye’s help with the baby.”
“You know about Mark?”
Flint shrugged. “I heard a little gossip last week.”
“Hmm.” The sheriff blew smoke rings. “Well, I’d best be going. You coming back to the house with me for dessert? My Wanda’s baked one a’ her prize-winnin’ apple pies. Takes a blue ribbon at the fair every year.”
“Back to town? Sure,” Flint answered quickly.
That made Harlan chuckle. “I thought I’d swing by Faye’s on the way, just to make sure Maggie got there safe. You might as well follow me.”
Of course he would. And while they were relaxed and eating pie, he intended to quiz the sheriff a lot more. Harlan was obviously relying on good-old-boy mentality to figure things out when there was a good chance sinister forces were at work instead. Just because there hadn’t been much crime in Serenity in the past didn’t mean there wasn’t any now.
Flint didn’t care whether locals like the Dodds were involved or not. The important thing was putting an end to the threats before somebody got hurt. Before Maggie got hurt.
Her unseen enemies had already gotten too close for comfort. They had to be positively identified and stopped. And if the sheriff wasn’t going to follow through, somebody had to take up the cause.
Flint’s badge and gun made him a full-fledged law officer.
He intended to act like one.
It didn’t bother Maggie one bit to note that Sheriff Allgood had caught up and was following her. As they drove into town and streetlights glinted off the light bar atop his patrol car, she realized that he wasn’t the only one. The third vehicle in line looked suspiciously like an official Game and Fish truck.
Maggie whipped into her mother’s driveway and waited, more than ready to face down Flint and send him on his way if he stopped. When both drivers cruised on past, however, she
