twenty-one

In forlorn Fox Cottage, Merrit already had the living room furniture pushed against one side of the room and the paint supplies set up. For the last couple of days she’d obsessed about her conversation with Danny. She’d managed to get her way—Danny promised to visit Liam—but her persuasive tactics were less than desirable. She lied when she said she wouldn’t meddle with Nathan. There was no help for it. Liam had his sights set on getting to know Zoe and Nathan better.

Oh, what did it matter anyhow? All the mental energy wasted.

This morning she’d jumped out of bed determined to think about something other than Danny and the nagging sense that she’d missed a point somewhere. Elder Joe and his barren view of a gravel quarry lurked at the edge of her thoughts.

Now, after a trip to the paint store, she was ready to begin her Fox Cottage beautification project. She pried the lid off a can of paint. After a vigorous stir, she painted a swath of soft orange-yellow called Afterglow over the hideous greenish-beige. It wouldn’t do to be too bright or too feminine. She stood back. Nice. Warm but not obnoxiously cheerful.

“Merrit?” Nathan said from the open doorway. “Sorry I’m late.”

Let the meddling begin, Merrit thought.

His appearance startled an “oh my god” out of her. A row of stitches decorated an angry bruise that covered the right side of Nathan’s forehead. Merrit had noticed the circles under his eyes before, but now they rivaled the bruise in lividity.

He answered her unspoken question as he entered the room. “I’m not sure what happened. I can’t remember—I was asleep, I think—and it doesn’t matter. Things happen.”

“Things happen?” Merrit said. “You were asleep? You think?”

“Maybe I banged my head against a wall. I don’t know.” He held up his bandaged hand. “For this one, I’m pretty sure I punched a wall. I know how it sounds, but until recently I’ve been doing well.”

“But still, that’s not good. Have you seen a sleep doctor?”

Nathan shook his head and picked up an unopened paint can. “Waterfall,” he read.

“That’s for the kitchen. You’re okay with helping me? If you’re not feeling well—”

“Won’t knock a bother off me. Besides, you’re paying me.”

She painted more Afterglow on the wall. “I haven’t been sleeping well, myself. I can’t get the image of EJ out of my head.”

Nathan coated his roller with paint and began on another wall.

“I found him,” Merrit said. “Horrible.”

Nathan continued layering on the Afterglow. She glanced at him but couldn’t read his blank expression. He moved, therefore he had to be awake.

“Why do you suppose someone would kill EJ? It’s all anyone’s talking about. Nathan?”

“Hmm? Oh, I never put it together about his other lodgers. I lived on his property. I should have realized.”

Lodgers? That was the first Merrit had heard about lodgers. “Realized what?”

“That they were sick and needed help. But I didn’t want to know, I think. Other things on my mind when I first came here.”

“It’s too bad Zoe wasn’t around to heal them.”

Nathan shuddered in a slow convulsion of tremors that ended with him dropping the roller on the floor. “Bollocks.”

Merrit tossed him a rag, and he wiped up the paint. “I shouldn’t have brought it up, but, to be honest, Zoe perplexes me.”

He froze at the sound of a mobile, then relaxed when Merrit grabbed hers out of her pocket. “Liam. I’d better check on him.” She knelt down next to where Nathan still stooped on the floor, now staring at Afterglow-colored paint stains on the rag. “Are you okay, Nathan?”

He twitched back from wherever he’d sunk to inside his head. “Effect of the painkillers.”

Maybe that was true, but maybe not. Merrit watched him, this gentle man who maybe wasn’t so gentle—at least toward himself, at least while asleep. He’d lost weight. The tendons and muscles in his arms flexed all too visibly when he pried the lid off a second can of Afterglow. Nathan was losing whatever battle he fought while he slept.

She left him to continue painting on his own and trotted down the track to the house. She caught sight of Liam as she approached. The pale sweep of hand in front of the window in greeting. The sun had decided to make a hazy appearance today. Its light waxed and waned as clouds whipped past overhead. They appeared to be gathering along the horizon. More rain later, but for now, Liam enjoyed his sunny spot beside the front window. He’d agreed to let her move one of the recliners from the hearth. He lay under a mound of blankets, clutching a soggy handkerchief.

“Still short of breath?” Merrit said. “Maybe we should raise your chair?”

He shook his head. The movement caused him to cough in short bursts that looked painful. After catching his breath, he grumbled something that Merrit couldn’t hear. She sat next to him, trying not to worry about the raised vein patterns visible in his temple.

“On a scale of one to ten, what’s your pain level?” she said.

He snorted. “You keep asking that, and I keep telling you that the pain hasn’t started yet. Minor achiness is all.”

“We should see to your gimpy leg anyhow.”

“Pfft, nothing to do with the lung cancer. It’s improving on its own. I overdid it the last few days, is all.”

Merrit would have liked to believe that. “You’re a right narky old bastard today.” She smiled as she said it, liking the way the Irish slang rolled off her tongue. “Or maybe you’re an utter geebag. Or a poxbottle?”

Liam settled his head on a pillow, his breath easing. “Away with you. You could simply say ‘stubborn old fart.’”

“Okay, you stubborn old fart, you rang?”

“What’s that you’re doing with Nathan at the cottage?”

“Fixing it up.”

“Why?”

Because it’s lonely. “I need a project,” she said.

“Good timing,” Liam said, “because I have a brilliant idea for you.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“But first, ring that Annie Belden. She’s a good one. I could get fond of her.” He widened his eyes in a bad imitation of innocence. “I need a shower, and she can help me better than you can.”

He’d showered all by himself last night. “Mm-hmm, right.”

“Then she can fix lunch.” He handed her a slip of paper. “Here’s her number.”

“What, no Zoe today?”

“Not today. After my shower, you can invite Nathan over for more dessert.”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” she said. “They don’t need a matchmaker. They’re fine on their own.”

His expression turned serious. “They need a push. Annie could help Nathan, but they need more time together for that to happen. Without Zoe to distract Nathan. Better yet, let Annie be the one to help him in the cottage. Grand idea, that.”

“She may not want to help with the cottage.”

“She will.” He shifted in his chair. “I think I’ll rest awhile before she arrives.”

Taking the hint, Merrit walked back out of the house while dialing Annie’s number. Halfway to the cottage, Annie agreed to visit and Merrit remembered that Liam had said he had a “brilliant idea” for her. Whatever it was, she had a feeling she’d rather not know.