True Grit SpiritA Maddie Graves and Hannah Hickok Mystery
Lily Harper Hart
HarperHart Publications
Copyright © 2020 by Lily Harper Hart
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
1. One
2. Two
3. Three
4. Four
5. Five
6. Six
7. Seven
8. Eight
9. Nine
10. Ten
11. Eleven
12. Twelve
13. Thirteen
14. Fourteen
15. Fifteen
16. Sixteen
17. Seventeen
18. Eighteen
19. Nineteen
Mailing List
About the Author
Books by Lily Harper Hart
Books by Amanda M. Lee
1
One
“Your knight in shining armor has arrived.”
Nick Winters, his arms laden with a multitude of things, used his hip to prop open the front door of the home he shared with his wife Maddie and wiggled to get through the narrow opening. He had grocery totes draped over his arms and a fresh malt from the Blackstone Bay ice cream shop clutched in one hand. His gaze immediately went to the window seat in the living room, to where he’d left his beloved wife an hour before.
She was still there. Maddie Graves-Winters, her blond hair fanning out on a pillow, rested on her side and stared into nothing. She was unnaturally pale, and Nick hated the fragility etched across her face.
“Hi, love.” His voice was soft as he dropped the grocery bags and sat next to her. His hand automatically went to her forehead to check for fever. He wasn’t a doctor — rather a police detective by trade — but his concern was very real. “Are you still feeling sick?”
Because she was who she was, Maddie put on a brave face. “I’m fine, Nicky,” she reassured him as she attempted to prop herself up and pretend everything was okay. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I’m pretty sure that worry comes with the territory,” he countered, frowning. She was never sick. She had one of those immune systems that seemed to fight off almost anything. Even when he came down with the flu over the winter months, she soldiered through, taking care of him while making sure her grandmother — who also lived with them — got a flu shot and steered clear. Since Maude was in her eighties, Maddie hovered over her like a mother hen. It was sort of cute ... but something to whimsically think about at a later time.
“I got your favorite malt,” Nick offered, handing over the cup in his hand. “Butterscotch, not chocolate.”
Maddie smiled. “Thank you.” She took the malt and immediately brought the straw to her lips. She knew if she didn’t drink that Nick would start making ridiculous suggestions, and that was the last thing she wanted.
He watched her for a beat to see if she would get sick again. When she rested her head against the pillows, he decided that crowding her was not the way to make this situation better. “Maybe I should take you to emergency care.” He didn’t realize he was going to say the words — he’d been thinking them, of course — until they’d already escaped his mouth.
Maddie immediately started shaking her head. “That’s really not necessary. It’s just some strange bug I picked up somewhere.”
Nick remained unconvinced. “You don’t get sick, Mad. Like ... ever.”
“I get sick. Don’t be ridiculous.” She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and shot him a reassuring smile. “You can’t get worked up about this. If you’re going to freak out over every little sniffle and upset stomach, then we’re going to have a really long and annoying happily ever after.”
He smirked but the worry remained. “You could get checked for me,” he suggested. “You know ... like a wedding gift.”
She shot him a quelling look. “We’ve been married for three months.”
“And we’re still well inside the window where gifts are appropriate.”
“I thought I gave you a gift every moment we were together.” She was going for levity and was gratified at the way his expression softened.
“You’re my best gift,” he reassured her, leaning forward to press his lips to her forehead. She didn’t feel warm. He figured that was a good thing. That didn’t keep him from getting twisted up over her potential sickness. “That’s why I want to keep you forever.”
Before Maddie could respond, someone else joined the fray. Maude Graves, Maddie’s grandmother, appeared in the doorway ... and proceeded to make a series of exaggerated vomiting motions that would’ve been funny under different circumstances.
“I see you two are still bucking for schmaltziest couple alive,” she drawled, clutching her oversized bag tighter to her side. “I keep thinking you guys will get over it eventually. I guess not, huh?”
“Not ever,” Nick agreed, his eyes busy as they roamed Maude’s outfit. She was dressed in all black, including her purse and shoes, and whatever she had in her bag created odd bulges in the pleather. She clearly had it stuffed to the brim. With what was the question. “Where are you going?”
“It’s good to know some things will never change,” Maude said dryly.
Nick waited for her to respond to the question. When she didn’t, he pinned her with his patented “you’re not leaving this house until I say it’s okay” look. “Where are you going?”
“Nunya,” Maude replied calmly, her eyes landing on Maddie. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s sick,” Nick replied. “And what do you mean ‘nunya’?”
“As in nunya business.” Maude moved closer to Maddie, but not close enough so that they shared oxygen. “You don’t get sick, Maddie girl. What’s going on?”
Maddie tried to hold back a sigh ... and failed. Her grandmother looked even more concerned than her husband, if that was even possible. “I’m fine, Granny. It’s just some weird stomach thing. Nick got me a malt. I’m sure I’ll be back on my feet in no time.”
“Maybe you should take her to the health center,” Maude suggested, completely ignoring Maddie’s response and focusing
