“Bet I know what it is,” Ginny teased, seeing Trudy glance at her watch. Trudy didn’t want to leave, but Killyama was waiting to pick her up.
“Bet you can’t.” Trudy wiped a tear away.
“A seashell charm.”
“No.”
“A coral charm.”
“No.”
They traded a couple of more guesses before Trudy looked at her watch again. “I have to go,” she said regretfully.
“I know.” Ginny bent down to get another sheet.
“Don’t forget—”
“I won’t forget the box; my present’s in there,” Ginny finished. Trudy was always afraid someone would stumble upon their gifts or she would forget about them. Every year they remained apart, Trudy’s fears became more pronounced. Ginny couldn’t understand. She had never forgotten one. She, herself, was the one who was always forgotten.
Ginny raised up to find herself engulfed in a hug.
“I should have told you first,” Trudy said chokingly.
Ginny quickly pulled herself away. “You’re too close, Trudy. You have to think about your baby and Dalton. Quit worrying about me. Your family has to come first from now on, promise me?”
“It was just a hug.”
At her mock-admonishing glare, Trudy gave into her demand.
“I promise.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Ginny closed and latched the goat pen. Giving Millie a pat of approval, she sent her home to Moses. “Go get your treat.”
Smiling as the dog ran off, Ginny started leisurely walking back toward the house. As she strolled through the trees, she felt the wind pick up, sending the limbs swaying. An icy blast of wind managed to sneak under her collar, sending a chill down her spine. She burrowed her hands into her comfortable blue jean jacket, trying to stay warm.
Her head was down as she came out the copse of trees.
“I was beginning to give up hope anyone was around.”
Ginny raised her head, seeing two men walking toward her. Slowing, Ginny continued forward. “This is private property.”
The taller of the two men pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “Our car broke down. I was trying to find someone to call a tow truck for us.”
“This is private property. Leave.” Ginny continued to walk, but she started veering away from the men, turning in the direction of Matthew and Isaac’s workshop. “I’ll call the tow truck for you. You can go wait in your car.”
“Damn.” The stranger’s voice turned snide. “Where’s all the Kentucky hospitality I heard about?”
“Kentuckians give hospitality to their invited guests, not trespassers. You need to leave. Now.”
“She’s a fucking bitch. Let’s just get her and go.”
The man who had called her a bitch sent another cold chill down her spine.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
The man next to the taller man left his friend’s side to cut her off from reaching Matthew and Isaac’s workshop.
Ginny stopped, positioning herself to keep both men within eyesight.
“I can see why Reaper stayed here so long. It’s peaceful.”
“That word coming from you is hilarious. You lived your whole life destroying everyone who comes into contact with you,” she scoffed.
A satisfied smile played on the cruel face just a foot away from her. “Reaper told you about me? I’m glad to know I left a lasting impression.”
“Actually, he didn’t. Reaper hasn’t mentioned your name once. Neither have The Last Riders.”
The man’s face gloating expression didn’t change, but his eyes grew sharper. “Then you don’t know who I am.”
“Oh, I know who you are … who you both are.”
“You’re bluffing.” The gloating expression became cunning.
Ginny rolled her eyes at the man. “Really? Your homework on me is sadly lacking. Hammer told me that was your problem when you were in the military, which was why you were never selected for higher assignments. Your taste in friends”—Ginny wrinkled her nose at the other man—“was another mark against you.”
“I don’t know a Hammer.” The tall man looked toward his cohort. “She’s bluffing.”
“You’re nothing but a peon in Hammer’s world.” Ginny allowed her disgust for the men to show.
“I don’t give a fuck who Hammer is . You can tell us when we have you loaded in the car.”
“I wouldn’t take another step if I were you, Slate.” Ginny saw the other man make a menacing move toward her. “You either, Butcher.”
Both men backed up a step at the use of their nicknames. Slate was first to regain his bravery.
“This is all bullshit. You’re all alone. We made sure.”
“By poisoning Moses’ dog?” Ginny shook her head at the men. “That was what tipped us off. Moses was supposed to be the only one left at the house with me, but he had to bring the dog to the vet, thanks to you. You’ve been watching our house for the last two weeks, learning our schedules.” Ginny gave them a pretend moue of disappointment.
Her pretense stopped. “You know, I was really mad at God for letting you enter Gavin’s life, but when Hammer told me that you skipped out on the luxurious accommodations the FBI provided for you, it restored some of my faith.”