Page 48 of When the Smoke Clears

Maci

WhenIwakeinthe morning, I don’t feel like crawling out my own skin and my incision isn’t as tender. Following doctor’s orders isn’t my forte, but at least my body is healing appropriately.

After a steaming shower, I turn on the bathroom fan to remove the humidity as usual. Today, the noise is overwhelming. I flip the switch off and open both doors to the Jack and Jill bathroom to let the air circulate.

A gun case in the corner of the office catches my eye as I swing the bathroom door open on that side. I haven’t spent much time in here. Aside from the desk and some seating, there’s a mini fridge and the spectacular map of Texas on the wall that I noticed the first time I came over.

Several rifles and shotguns are on display through the glass door of the gun case, though it’s not full. A small handgun sits on one of the wooden shelves inside, alongside some medals in velvet cases and other memorabilia.

My own handgun is now locked away in the Bull Creek Police Department, assuming that’s where they house evidence. I don’t anticipate ever getting it back, not that I asked about procedure.

I pad into the office, the wood floors cool underfoot. Compulsively, my fingers trace the dark mahogany before I try the door. It’s unlocked and opens with a loud click into the room. With a sure grip, I pull the gun out and examine it. It’s a similar size to mine, a little heavier, and unloaded. I slip it into the holster in my jeans before opening a low drawer to find the magazine.

Even with the new weapon in my possession, I don’t feel any better. I should. With or without it, my villain is gone. Right?

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

When I started carrying a few years ago, I hoped it would help me feel protected. Maybe falsely for a while, I did. Now I feel stuck in a deeper, darker place than I did back then.

I never wanted to be a killer. I just wanted to be safe. Aside from being tucked into Sutton’s arms, I don’t know if I’ll ever feel that way again.

I close the door on the case and make a mental note to tell Sutton I have the gun for now.

The sun hasn’t fully risen as I make my way inside The Big House. It’s oddly quiet when I enter. The usual kitchen noise is missing.

“Oh, Maci.” Andi greets me with a signature smile. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

My cheeks flush. “I don’t think I’d like to get a reputation as a late riser around here.”

She laughs. “Nonsense. You sleep as long as you want.” She’s busy cleaning up from breakfast and I check the dining table for anything else that needs to be washed or put away. Her voice follows me. “If you’re looking for some of the muffins you made, I’m afraid you’re out of luck. The hands finished them off right quick and in a hurry.”

A breathy laugh leaves me. “I wasn’t, but I’m glad they enjoyed them.”

“They were singing your praises,” she tells me with a smile when I re-enter the kitchen.

My brow furrows. “I hope you didn’t give me all the credit. All I did was follow instructions.”

“I didn’t say anything. Actually, they were talking about your photos.”

“My photos?” I haven’t held a camera in too many days, which creates a different kind of ache.

“Yep. I didn’t hear it all, but sounds like they saw your work from the Fall Festival.”

For what feels like the first time in too long, pride races through my body. Photography is important to me, and documenting special times for families genuinely makes me feel good. I love sharing in those special moments with them. So hearing that people I don’t really know enjoy my work, versus my biased friends, is a welcome form of flattery.

“Speaking of that…” Andi looks at me where I’m washing a casserole dish in the sink. “The Jingle Bell Bash is coming up soon. Are you interested in an appearance?”

“Is your other photographer unavailable again?”

She grabs a towel and takes the dish to dry it. “I haven’t checked, to be honest. We didn’t book her in advance for this event and she hasn’t reached out since she had to pull out of the Fall Festival.”

“As long as you don’t think it will cause drama, I’m happy to do it.” The last thing I need right now is more small-town drama. “Maybe my window won’t get bashed in this time.”

It’s an ill-timed joke and Andi looks at me with a sad smile.

“Actually, the ranch hands asked after you, too.” She looks at me from the corner of her eye. “I think you and Sutton have more in common than you think.”

I’m unsure what she means and turn fully to face her, shutting off the water.

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