The hero of the A. Campbell book she was reading shimmered into her consciousness. Cody had written his English essay on Canyon Secrets. In it, the good-hearted bandit who found the gold only took half, hoping that another worthy soul would find the rest.

Something sparkled in her brain, and Maggie sat up. She thought about the secret room. The pipe. The news clippings and photos. There was something there that she’d missed. Something important.

But before she could focus in on it, a rock outcropping caught her eye. It had been spray-painted yellow and orange, neon colors that stood out from the vibrant green everywhere else. Sloppy block letters spelled out JEB’S PULL OUT. MORE THAN A BIRTH CONTROL METHOD.

There, on the concrete ramp, stood a hipshot Silas Wright. Arms folded across his chest. Legs braced apart like he was ready for a fight. And there was that stomach drop. She’d almost gotten so used to feeling it every time she saw him that she didn’t bother defining it for what it was.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” she muttered to herself as she paddled in the direction that she’d gone and fallen in love with.

42

42

Silas regarded Maggie with suspicion as the truck bumped down the lane. The woman hadn’t swung at him with paddle or fist. Instead, she’d kissed him hard and fast right there on the boat launch and then remained eerily silent on the drive back to the house.

She seemed more relaxed than when he’d dragged her out this morning. Her shoulders were no longer rubbing her ears. But she appeared to be lost in thought and kept shooting searching looks in his direction, like she was trying to figure out a puzzle.

He hoped what she found at the house would loosen her tongue a bit so he’d at least know what she was thinking.

“You ready to go back in there?” he asked when he pulled in behind Cody’s SUV.

She stared at the front of the house like she was seeing it for the first time. “Yeah. I am,” she decided.

“Okay then,” he said when she hopped out of the truck and headed toward the front porch. Kevin burst out of the woods behind the garage, his lower half covered in mud. The kittens scampered after him, blissfully muddy from head to tail.

“For fuck’s sake. Can’t you all stay out of trouble for five whole seconds?” Silas demanded. He’d already lost nearly a pint of blood during each of the baths he’d given the fur balls that morning.

Kevin, avoiding his father’s disapproval, barreled after Maggie. Silas waited for the yelling to start, especially when his damn dog decided to shake off half of the mud all over the front porch and windows and Maggie.