Leave a Trail (Signal Bend #7)(25)

“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel crowded out. That room is yours as long as you want to be with us. If you’re thinking you want to be here long term, that’s great! So great! I’ll…” She stopped and looked down at the booklets and brochures scattered over her desk. “I’ll have Show close up the dining room. We can convert it into a bedroom for you.”

Now Adrienne felt guilty about making Shannon feel guilty. This was getting to be an even thornier conversation than she’d expected. “It’s okay, Shannon. I don’t feel unwelcome or crowded out. But I am thinking of maybe staying a while. Long enough to maybe start looking for work.”

“I’ll talk to Lilli. What you’re doing with us freelance while you’re in town—we can make that something official.”

No. She loved it here, but she was feeling a need to break out of the things she’d been doing. Too many expectations, too much help from other people.

When she didn’t answer right away, Shannon smiled; it had a rueful little twist to it. “Oh, God. I’m managing. And hovering. And crowding. Being pregnant is making me weird. I’m sorry. You find the job you want. There’s one here if you want it, but I won’t push. If you want to stay in the B&B, then of course you can. And as long as we don’t need the room and you make it up yourself, then you stay for free. I’ll talk to Lilli about what to do if we need to book full—but we’ll work it out. I love having you at the house, but I know you’re a grownup and need some privacy. I’m just thrilled that it means you’ll be around awhile. That makes me really happy.”

Adrienne went over to Shannon and hugged her. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Could I—could I move over here today?” Show was on a run and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.

“Um…sure. We’re pretty empty, but we are booked full on the weekend.” She slapped her forehead.

“God, I’m an idiot. Take the manager’s suite! Right there!” She pointed to the door in the corner of her office. “No one uses it, because we all have homes elsewhere. It’s been empty for more than a year.”

Wow. Adrienne thought that could be amazing. At least short-term. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. There’s no furniture in it, but we can work that out. You could take a room upstairs for now, until we get it furnished. Or you could stay at the house a little longer.”

“I think I’d like to take a room, if that’s still okay.”

At that, Shannon cocked her head, and her dark blue eyes narrowed a little. “It is. But why the rush, honey? Is something wrong?”

“No. Really. I just…I guess I feel a little restless. If that makes sense?”

“It does. Okay. Well, let’s get you a room, then!”



oOo



Once she had a room upstairs, Adrienne went out to her car, on a mission to collect her things from Show and Shannon’s house and come back. It wasn’t a perfect plan, and it didn’t keep her from being dependent on Shannon, and therefore Show, too, sort of. But it was a forward step, and it gave her time to think things through.

Walking to her car, though, she saw Badger’s bike. She hadn’t seen him since the day they’d taken him, bound and unconscious, to the clubhouse. Was he okay? And were they? Were they even friends anymore?

She’d gotten within six feet of the barn door, which was mostly closed, before she realized that she couldn’t. She couldn’t go in there. Memories of her last encounters with Badger filled her head. There wasn’t room for another memory like them. If she saw him, it would have to be some other way. She turned around, headed back to her car.

“Adrienne?”

The voice sounded like it was coming from underwater or something, but it was Badger’s. She turned toward it. He was coming around the back corner of the barn, Weasel at his heel. He looked awful—the terrible bruising he’d had that other day was mottled grey and green, but over it was fresh, vivid bruising on the side of his head, and across his face like a mask. Both eyes were black, and his nose was covered with a white bandage. Adrienne thought of Show’s hurt knuckles and did some deducing. God. Show was so much bigger than Badger. God.

“Badge—are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m better.” He took a step toward her, and she’d stepped back before she realized she was doing it. He stopped, and her chest hurt at the look of pain she could see even in that mangled face.

“Adrienne. I’m so sorry. I won’t…bother you. I just want to say that. That I’m so, so sorry. What I did to you is the worst thing I ever did.”

“Badge, I’m not mad.” She recovered the step she’d taken away from him, and added two more. If they both reached out, they could hold hands.

“You should be mad. I was a dick to you. Worse than that.”

She shook her head. Old news. “How are you doing? You’re wearing your kutte.”

He looked down at the leather. “Yeah. They let me stay. I’m okay. It’s hard to be here. But I’m clean.”

“That’s good. I’m glad. I was worried.”

He looked down at Weasel and then out, past her, at or beyond the grounds. “Well, anyway. I’ll see you, I guess.” He turned back the way he’d come.