Page 143 of Rough and Rugged

“Hey, man, how’s it goin’?”

Jacob, a math teacher and baseball coach at Green Springs High School, responded, “it’s goin’.”

“What’d you want to talk about? Mom and Dad okay?”

“Yeah, they’re cool. Mom and Aunt Sheela went shoppin’ in Tupelo the other day.”

“Is there ever a day when they don’t shop?”

Jacob laughed, then grimaced, changing the subject. “So… I need to tell you something.”

Mac had no idea what he would need to tell him that warranted such a serious expression. “Go ahead.”

His cousin removed his baseball cap and rubbed his hand over his short hair. “Marissa called me.”

Mac felt like he’d been sucker-punched. “What the hell?”

“Yeah. She’s lookin’ for you. Said she needs to talk to you.”

“Did she say why?”

“No, and I didn’t ask. Not gettin’ in the middle of any drama between you two.”

“There is no drama. I haven’t seen or heard from her in almost ten years. You know that.”

“Well, apparently she’s been askin’ around about how to reach you and no one could or would tell her. You don’t do social media, and she sure as hell wasn’t gonna call your parents or ask her parents to get involved. So she sent me admon my school account.”

Mac had no words, and wasn’t about to reveal why they broke up, so he simply nodded at his cousin to continue.

“I told her you didn’t respond to phone messages or texts, so it was pointless to give her your number. But I did tell her she could probably find you up at the cabin.”

As Mac made his way back up the mountain, his lunch sat in his belly like a lead weight and his thoughts raced.Why after all this time was Marissa looking for him? And what the hell did she want?

Chapter Two

Marissa

Oneweekearlier

“Unbelievable,” Marissa Moore muttered as she considered throwing the phone in her hand across the room of her high rise condo in one of the best buildings in Chicago. She’d just disconnected a call to the law firm in Tupelo, Mississippi, that had handled her divorce. Or so she thought. Someone had made a mistake, a big one.

In order to file for a marriage license with her fiancé, she needed an official copy of the divorce decree that had ended her first marriage to her childhood sweetheart, Mac Mackenzie. When she’d tried to request one online from the Lee County court archives, she’d found no such record on file. So she’d placed a call to the law office that Mac had used when he’d served her with papers. Only after confirming her identity as one of the parties in the divorce filing, the paralegal told her the divorce had never been finalized. She couldn’t tell her why, as there was no other information in the file. Surely, there was some mistake, but she wouldn’t be able to straighten it out from Chicago. There was only one thing to do to sort out this mess. She needed to make a trip to Mississippi.

And what would she tell Andrew about her need for an unexpected trip South? Her fiancé knew very little about her past, including her first marriage. She’d played it off as a short, impulsive fling in her youth, unable to be honest with him or herself. Her brutally honest truth was that getting married hadn’t been the biggest mistake of her life, leaving her husband had been. Hell, Andrew didn’t even know her real last name. She hadn’t felt right keeping her married name of Mackenzie, and Marissa Nutter didn’t have the ring of a sophisticated or successful artist and jeweler. So she’d taken on the last name of Moore, as in Marissa searching formorefrom life when she’d moved to Chicago.

Andrew was the golden boy of Chicago old money. They’d met five years earlier when he’d inquired about some of her custom-made silver and gemstone jewelry. He’d said he was looking for something for his mother, but she’d recognized him right away as Chicago’s most eligible bachelor. His exploits with women had been constantly reported in the local society columns. Little had she known that was all for show. She’d finally agreed to go out with him after he’d repeatedly showered her with flowers and gifts, mainly to get him to stop. While he was always generous with his time, money, and affection, she was, at times, uncomfortable with his elitist and paternal attitude toward her. He seemed oblivious that his suggestions related to her appearance, weight, and clothing choices cut her self-esteem to the core. Her body had always been muscular and curvy, and her stature was not petite. Despite half-starving herself, she would never be the slender model type that Andrew and his snobby parents seemed to want her to be.

She knew that Andrew loved her, in his own way, but could she say the same? If she were honest with herself, no. But Andrew represented stability, security, and success. Shouldn’t that be enough to base a marriage on? At thirty-three, she wasn’t getting any younger, and she didn’t relish the idea of being alone for the rest of her life. And there’d been no pressure from Andrew or his parents to produce an heir, perhaps because of their own family secrets. They didn’t approve of Andrew’s closed door fondness for same sex partners, so she was propped up in public as his partner for the press and society pages. Their marriage would be a mutually beneficial relationship, with few expectations except to look good for the public. Apparently, that’s how it worked in the Claiborne family. So she’d accepted Andrew’s proposal, knowing that his family would want a public show wedding worthy of the best venue Chicago had to offer.

The challenge at hand was that she hadn’t stepped foot into the state of Mississippi in almost ten years. Despite counseling, she’d been unable to get over the pain and shame of losing a child. Her family and everyone else had thought she’d simply been selfish and immature when she’d run off to Chicago. Only Mac knew the reason that had triggered their split and her departure. And when she’d received divorce papers from him six months after leaving, that was all the proof she needed that he hated her and was moving on. And even though she’d been stuck spinning her wheels, he deserved to be able to move on. So she’d signed the papers and never looked back.

How far she’d traveled, literally and figuratively, from small town life in Mississippi. But in order to step into the future, she had to face her past first. And that meant returning home to Green Springs.

Chapter Three

Mac

WhileMacwasoutworking in his shed, he heard the purr of an engine, signaling the approach of a vehicle. His workshop was more of a covered pavilion than an enclosed structure, as it wouldn’t be safe to operate gas- powered machinery or store chemicals in an enclosed space. And he didn’t need to worry about security or theft up on the mountain. If anyone did venture up here and was up to no good, his Remington 870 12 gauge shotgun would take care of the situation.

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