She gave the phone a vicious swipe to unlock it and jabbed the “pause” button. Quiet filled the car again, and she swallowed, hard. The whole way down I-17, tears threatened to fall, but she wouldn’t let them, kept blinking them back. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t allow Lucas Wilcox to make her cry.
By the time she got off the interstate, she wouldn’t say she felt better, exactly, but at least she didn’t feel as if she would shatter into a thousand pieces if someone touched her. She drove through Cottonwood and Clarkdale, wound up into Jerome, and then turned into her driveway, just as she had thousands of times before. A touch of the remote, and then she was safely inside her garage, the door shutting behind her, sealing her away from the outside world.
In that moment, it seemed she couldn’t bear to look at her luggage, look at the evidence of the time she’d spent with Lucas. Fine. She’d unpack later, once she’d gathered the ragged remains of her composure. Instead, she went in the house, tried to ignore how empty and quiet it seemed, and decided to make some tea, not because she really wanted any, or because she thought it would help, but because she couldn’t think of a damn thing else to do.
It did help, actually, a tiny bit. She took her mug of tea and went to sit on the back porch, which looked over the carefully tended yard, the roses dead-headed and awaiting their winter dormancy, the grass already beginning to appear a little yellowed, now that they’d had a couple of good frosts.
A shadow fell over the garden path, and Margot looked up, heart giving an irrational thump. He couldn’t have come here to plead with her, could he?
But no, it was only Allegra Moss. Margot might have wondered how her fellow elder could have known she was home already, except that Allegra was one of those people who seemed to know everything about everyone, or at least gave a very good imitation of it. Besides, her house was just down on the corner, and so she would’ve seen Margot’s car passing by if she’d been looking out the window at the right moment. Which, since it was Allegra, tended to happen more often than not.
“You’re back?” Allegra asked, and Margot tried not to wince.
“Yes,” she said shortly, hoping the other woman would hear the finality in her tone and not pry, and also knowing, since it was Allegra, that it was a vain hope at best. “I did say it would be three days at the very most. Besides, I didn’t want to get caught in any weather, in case more snow moved in.”
“That makes sense.” The older witch paused for a moment, blue eyes keen. Margot thought they might as well have been equipped with X-rays. “Didn’t it go well?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Margot said shortly, fingers tightening around her mug so she wouldn’t give in to the urge to hurl it at Allegra’s head.
“Oh, that’s too bad. He seems like such a nice person. And oh, so easy on the eyes.”
“Does your husband know you talk like that about other men?” She really didn’t want to think about how easy on the eyes Lucas was, because that would get her thinking about his smile, and the light in his dark eyes as he gazed at her, or the way his body had felt pressed against hers….
Allegra laughed, and that helped dispel those unwelcome memories of just how much Margot had enjoyed being around Lucas, being with him. “My dear, I may be married, but I’m not blind.”
There not being much Margot could say in reply to that, she only shrugged and sipped at her tea.
“Well,” Allegra said, and now she did look vaguely uncomfortable, as if she just realized she’d intruded on something that really was none of her business, “I’ll let you relax and unwind, then. I suppose you’ll be making the rounds tomorrow morning, checking the illusions?”
“Don’t I always?”
“Yes, you do. You’re always so reliable, Margot, and don’t think that everyone doesn’t appreciate it. Enjoy your day.” Off she went, momentary discomfort forgotten. No doubt within the hour she’d have latched onto something else to occupy her attention. It was just Allegra’s way, and Margot couldn’t even really fault her for that.
Even so, she settled back against the creaky wicker of her seat and let out a long sigh.
Reliable.
It seemed that was all she would ever be. Lucas had given her a glimpse of something else, something more, but she’d been foolish to think it could ever come true for her. No, he’d shown himself to be what she’d always feared…a Wilcox, untrustworthy, plotting, covering his deception with a handsome face.
She really didn’t want to stop and think how he’d actually gotten himself in trouble by making the simple mistake of telling her the truth.