Page 82 of The Bitterroot Inn (Jamison Valley 5)
She studied my face. “See that door right there?”
I looked over my shoulder to the metal door that led to the basement—the basement where Everett had tried to kill the woman I loved.
“If you can get her past that door,” Gigi said, “you might just have a chance. She’s got to face what happened. She thinks she’s a killer. She doesn’t see that she’s a savior. Make her see that, Hunter.”
I nodded.
If it was the last thing I did, I’d make her see.
“Hunter!” Coby sprinted toward my legs. “Are you coming to my game?”
I bent and caught him before he could crash into my knees. Then I picked him up and tossed him high. “You bet I am! I’ve got to be there to cheer when you hit a home run.”
Coby’s smile was infectious. As much as I loved Maisy, I was in just as deep with this boy.
I settled him on my hip and let him wrap his arms around my neck. “I missed you these past few days, buddy.”
“I missed you too.” He hugged me tighter. “Mommy said you were taking care of other people because you’re a doctor. She said you’re like Captain America.”
Maisy was bragging me up? Now that felt amazing.
I looked over to her at the door and winked. “Thanks, Blondie.”
She smiled and made my world a little brighter.
I squeezed Coby again, then set him down, smoothing out his Prescott Café T-Ball shirt. “Where’s your glove?”
“My room.”
“Go get it.”
As Coby ran off, I bent down to pick up Pickle, who was attacking my feet. This was a good day. Even the dog had missed me. I set Pickle back down and I stepped over to Maisy, pulling her into my side.
“No more nights apart. Even if we fight, we’ve got to work it out. I can’t be gone from you guys for this long.”
Her head fell into my chest and her hand slipped into my back jeans pocket. “No more nights apart.”
I kissed her temple and let her go just as Coby came barreling back down the hall. “Ready!”
After depositing Pickle in his crate, I took the keys to Maisy’s car and loaded up my girl and my boy to drive them to the T-ball game.
“Uncle Beau!” Coby shouted the minute I lifted him out of his car seat.
“Coby, remember you have to call him Coach Holt tonight,” Maisy said, stepping out of the 4Runner.
“Oops.” He giggled. “Coach Holt!”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Maisy grabbed Coby’s hand before he could go running off. “You’re in a parking lot.”
He smacked his palm to his forehead. “Whoops. I forgot.”
“Goofball,” Maisy teased. “Come on. Look both ways, then we can go.”
She slipped her hand in mine and we crossed the gravel parking lot.
I scanned the people standing in huddles on the green grass and recognized a few faces. I spotted Beau and Jess, the team’s co-coaches, talking to a group of guys leaning against the chain-link fence that bordered the field. Gigi and her girls were sitting on a wooden bench while Ben was lapping the bases with a couple of other kids.
“This is a nice complex,” I told Maisy as we walked.
