Trouble Maker: A MacKenzie Family Novel (The MacKenzie Family) (8 page)

Chapter Seven

After a busted radiator in Missouri and a stomach bug that kept her holed up for two days in South Dakota, she finally crested the hill that led to Surrender.

She stopped the car at the top, next to the sign that said
Welcome to Surrender
. It was familiar, yet different. They’d upgraded the old green sign to a white wooden one that had been hand painted.

The sun was a flaming orange ball directly overhead and the sky was cloudless. She’d forgotten how beautiful it was. Or maybe she hadn’t appreciated the splendor of the landscape as a child.

Surrender was a perfect green jewel nestled in a valley of rolling hills. Farther out the land softened and flattened so it was miles of white fences and pastureland. A lake of crystal clear blue was on the west side of Surrender, but it was right in the middle of MacKenzie land and it was for personal use. To the east side of Surrender was a larger lake—one side of it bordered Hamilton land, but the other side was open to the public. She had a perfect view of everything from where she sat.

And for the first time since she’d had her art and her name taken from her, she felt the urge to get her camera out. The pictures she took now would be for her own enjoyment. She’d never needed fame or glory. She’d only needed an escape.

She didn’t fight the urge. The camera bag sat strapped into the passenger seat, where it had been since she’d started her trek across the country. The sunlight was too bright to get the kind of shots she wanted, but she got one or two that might be good to frame for her new studio.

It had taken her two solid weeks to travel from Georgia to Montana between the car problems and her illness. But she’d used the travel time wisely. Her first phone call had been to Mary MacKenzie. Mary had been a second mother to her, and guilt still ate at her that she’d not been in contact with her or Darcy, either one. She’d picked up the phone several times to dial their number, but she’d never had the courage to go through with it. And then she ultimately decided that maybe it was best to leave the past in the past.

Marnie knew the MacKenzies had tried to adopt her after social services had taken her away. She’d overheard the social worker mention it while she was in the hospital being treated after that last beating. But social services ultimately thought she’d do better in a location outside of Surrender, so they’d placed her with a foster family in Bozeman.

Calling Mary out of the blue had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done. But after her initial surprise, Mary had talked with her as if no time had passed at all. By the time she hung up the phone, she had a house to rent and had been guaranteed the vacant shop next to the sheriff’s office. Now all she had to do was apply for the permits and business license she needed to open the shop and she’d be all set.

Marnie packed away her camera and got back in the car. And then after a deep breath she put it in drive. No one noticed her as she drove through town. Main Street was busier than it had been during her childhood, and though there was no parking on the bricked road that ran between the middle of the businesses downtown, she’d watched people circling from her place on the hilltop, looking for a place to park.

She got lucky and a car pulled out of a spot just behind the florist shop. There was no time like the present, so she straightened her spine and put on the bored look she’d learned to adopt during her showings. She was an adult now, not a helpless child, and it didn’t matter that people might stare or that there’d be whispers behind her back. This was Surrender. There would always be whispers about something.

But she was where she was supposed to be. She’d known it from the first vision she’d had after she left, the one where she’d watched Darcy lying on her bed crying because her best friend was never coming back. Marnie might not have been in Surrender in person, but she’d still seen. And when the visions changed from the present and they were instead placing her in them somewhere in the future, she knew she’d made the right decision to leave her life behind and start anew.

The air was brisk and bitter with cold despite the sun shining overhead, so she wrapped her blue quilted jacket around her and set off for the sheriff’s office. She’d been in the south too long and her blood was thin. Moving back to a place that had real winters was going to take some adjustment and the thought made her smile just a little. Her first southern summer had been an adjustment too.

The florist was at the end of the street, so she followed the sidewalk around to the front of the building and stepped up on the wooden sidewalk that lined the front of each side of the street. She passed the bookstore, and a young mother and her toddler came out of the ice cream shop next door. The woman looked at her oddly since she didn’t recognize her, but she smiled and said hello as she dodged the rocky road-covered hands of her child.

White rocking chairs, two on each side of the door, sat in front of the mercantile and two old men sat rocking and gossiping as she passed by. They both nodded and went about their conversation. She’d recognized them, but couldn’t put a name to a face. But one of the men had once given her a pack of bubble gum for a treat when her mama couldn’t afford to add anything else to the groceries in her cart. Mr. Murdock, she thought.

They wouldn’t recognize her. She’d spent her entire life trying to be invisible. To blend in and not draw attention to herself. If she’d had a choice, she would’ve skipped her own gallery showings, but Clive had insisted she be there for them, dressed up and painted like a doll. But here, in her own clothes, she was something unremarkable.

The people who passed her would see a young woman with dark hair pulled back in a tail at the nape of her neck. Thick brows winged over dark eyes that were somber and too serious. She’d lost weight over the last few months she’d spent with Clive and her cheekbones were a little too sharp and her eyes a little too big for her face. Her clothes were simple—a thick cable-knit sweater in hunter green and a pair of dark brown corduroy pants. Her boots were well used and scuffed at the toes.

The little shop next to the mercantile was vacant and she stopped to stand in front of it and look through the windows. She knew it was the place her shop would be. There were two square display windows and the thick wooden door had a glass insert. The floors were the original wood and though the space was narrow, it was deep enough that she could divide it into two spaces—one a reception area and place to hang samples of her work, and in the other she could put backdrops and screens for in-house photo shoots. There was an apartment above the space that had a tenant, but Mary assured her that she was quiet and wouldn’t be a bother.

She felt some of the tension go out of her shoulders. She could make this work. Now she just had to find the courage to actually speak to the people she’d known all her life. But she could do it. Those same people would be lining up for family portraits, graduation pictures, babies, and weddings. It was a business, and she was providing a service for the community.

It was only a few more steps to the front door of the sheriff’s office, and she found her hand was slightly damp as she turned the knob. Mary had told her that Cooper had beat Sheriff Rafferty in the election several years back. She’d grown up with Cooper, just like she had all the MacKenzies, though he’d been several years older and didn’t often hang out with them. But imagining him in the position of authority as sheriff was hard to wrap her brain around, especially knowing some of the stuff he’d done as a kid.

She’d grown up hearing Harley rail against the police. How corrupt and useless they were. How they targeted the poor and the people who needed their help the most. And then he’d told her if she ever told Sheriff Rafferty about the whippings that Rafferty would come straight to him because they were friends. And she’d get twice the punishment.

She’d never heard any gossip around town that Sheriff Rafferty had been corrupt. Mostly people called him inept and lazy. But she’d never been sure if her daddy was telling the truth about them being friends, so she’d made it her policy to steer clear of the police whenever she saw them.

The sheriff’s office was pretty much what she’d expected. It smelled strongly of Pine-Sol trying to mask the smell of sweat and burned coffee. A wooden desk sat to the right of the door and a slightly plump woman with fresh highlights in her blonde hair sat behind the desk, her long nails clicking against the keyboard as she typed. Her desk was stacked with papers and file folders, and behind her was a dispatch board where she took calls if there was trouble.

There was another desk directly across from her, but this one was empty except for a couple of pictures of a man she’d never seen before and what she assumed was his wife, who was stunningly beautiful. Two jail cells lined the back wall of the room. They were stark and empty except for a cot with a mattress that had been covered in plastic and a metal toilet.

It took Marnie a few seconds to remember why she recognized the woman’s face. And then it hit her and dread settled in her stomach like a lead ball. Lila Rose. The girl everyone loved to hate, but never had the guts to say so to her face because they were afraid of what she’d say about them.

There hadn’t been a moment from kindergarten to her junior year that Lila hadn’t made fun of her for wearing the same old clothes or only having a boiled egg to eat for lunch some days. It had always irked Lila that Marnie could come and go as she pleased at the MacKenzies. In her mind, Lila and Darcy should’ve been the best of friends. The two daughters of wealthy ranchers. But Darcy couldn’t stand Lila and had told her so to her face in the first grade. In turn, Lila had set out to make Marnie as miserable as possible.

“Can I help you?” Lila said.

She was still pretty and it was easy for Marnie to see the Carnival Queen now that she’d recognized her. She must’ve married well, because the rock on her finger had to be a good two carats and the diamond tennis bracelet she wore strained against the thickness of her wrist.

Marnie didn’t have to look into Lila’s mind to see what she was thinking. It was all over her face. She sized Marnie up quickly and dismissed her as unimportant, though she was curious about what she was doing in Surrender. But she smiled a fake smile and welcomed her anyway.

“I’m here to see Cooper. I think he’s expecting me.”

“Oh, sure. He mentioned something about that, though he didn’t tell me your name. You must be the new tenant over at the river house. I heard him mention the other day that it had been rented.”

“That’s me,” Marnie said, forcing a smile. After all, Lila and her family were potential customers. “Is he in?”

“Oh, sure, but I think he’s on a phone call. Let me check.”

Marnie could tell she was irritated that she didn’t introduce herself, but she wasn’t quite ready for that yet. Lila got up and knocked lightly on the closed door behind her desk. She stuck her head in and said a few words and then closed the door again.

“He’ll be right out,” she said, taking her place behind the desk again. “Where are you moving here from? Do I detect a little bit of the South in your voice?”

“I’m coming from Savannah. I’ve actually rented the shop next door to open a photography studio.”

Lila squealed and clapped her hands together, and Marnie wondered how it was some people never changed. She was still the same vapid popular girl, trapped inside a thirty-two-year-old body. And she’d still be that same girl at eighty.

“Oh, that’s perfect! We have to drive all the way to Myrna Springs to get family photos done, and that’s almost an hour away. A good friend of mine had her wedding here and she brought in a fancy photographer all the way from Billings.” Lila lowered her voice a little and said, “It was the sheriff’s cousin that did that, but they can afford it. Darcy always did have high and mighty taste. Must’ve cost a fortune.”

Marnie raised her eyebrows at that and wondered how long it took Lila to spread police business all over town. She probably had her phone to her ear the minute a 911 call came in to the switchboard.

“I’ve done weddings big and small all over the country. Now people will be coming to Surrender to get their portraits done.”

Lila’s lips pinched and her eyes widened in disbelief, but she continued to smile. “You must be a good photographer if you think people will come all the way to Surrender for photos. The only time we get visitors is when it’s fishing and hunting season. And those people aren’t too interested in fancy photography, if you know what I mean.”

Marnie kept her smile in place. “I guess I’ll have to wait and see. I had a six-month waiting list when I was in Savannah.”

Thankfully, Cooper’s office door opened and he stepped out. Her first thought was that he hadn’t changed much. The MacKenzies had all been blessed with good looks, but only a few of them possessed the black hair and blue eyes that had been passed down from their great-grandfather. Cooper, Darcy, Shane, and their nephew Jayden all shared those attributes. When it came to those four, it wasn’t just good looks. They were stunning.

Her last impression of Cooper was of a young man in his twenties who’d finished his term in the military and was trying to figure out what he should do with his life. He looked rougher around the edges than he had at twenty-five. She could see the sleeve of tattoos peeking out beneath his rolled-up shirt sleeves and a growth of stubble she had to imagine was on purpose instead of him forgetting to shave.

He was tall, like all the MacKenzies were, but Cooper was just a little taller than the others. He was broad through the shoulders and chest, like a body builder, and he wore the weapon in his holster like he’d been born to it. She’d known from the start that he was destined to protect and serve. She glanced at the gold wedding band he wore and could see the contentment on his face. He’d made a good life.

“Marnie,” he said, breaking out into a grin. “It’s so good to see you.”

He didn’t try to hug her. She’d never liked being touched much, but she went up to him to shake his hand. As their skin touched, she opened herself briefly. Her smile grew wider. He was very content in his life, he loved his wife and children more than anything, and Lila annoyed the hell out of him, but he’d given her the job as a favor to her husband, whom he did like.