by Debbie Mason
Hunter’s eyes went wide. “Oh no, do not tell me my mother and sisters are on their way to the farm.”
“I’m sorry. But honestly, it’s your fault, Hunter,” Eden said.
“How is it my fault?” he shot over his shoulder as he jogged to his truck.
“You actually talked to them.”
He turned to look at her. “I always talk to them. I mean, I might take a while to answer their messages, but I eventually do.” Unless he heard something in their voices that concerned him, and he called right back.
“No. I mean you gave more than your usual monosyllabic answers. You hardly grunted or snorted. Hunter, you carried on an actual conversation. And you…you smiled.” Eden looked like she might cry.
Hunter shook his head as he got into his truck. When his brother joined him, he said, “There’s something wrong with your wife.”
“She’s a little more emotional than usual,” his brother said as he powered down the passenger-side window. “Don’t worry, honey. Everything will be fine. Why don’t you have a nap? Lie down on the chaise on the deck.”
“You’ve done it now,” Hunter said, thinking of Abby’s reaction earlier today. “I thought you’d be better at this. How long have you been married now?”
“What are you talking about?” Shane said, smiling when Eden nodded and mouthed, I love you.
“Forget I said anything.” He should’ve known Abby’s reaction wouldn’t be the same as most people’s.
“No way. I have a feeling this’ll be interesting. Come on. Tell me.”
“It’s just that Abby hates it when I tell her to have a nap.” He glanced at his brother. “She thinks I’m being overprotective.”
“So, what’s wrong with that?”
Hunter was about to say I know, right, but then his brother added, “It just shows you care.” And Shane was clearly fighting back a laugh.
Hunter scowled at him “Let it out before you hurt yourself.”
“I’m sorry, but come on. You have to admit it’s pretty funny that you’ve fallen for a woman like Abby.”
“Just because I’m concerned about her getting enough rest doesn’t mean I’m falling for her.” He went off-road in hopes of cutting off his mother at the pass. “And what do you mean a woman like Abby? She comes off as a bit flaky, but she’s not. If you knew what she’s dealt with—”
“Once again, you prove me right. Oaf.” He put a hand on his head. “Seriously? Are you so worried about Mom and the girls meeting Abby that you’re willing to risk our lives?” At Hunter’s raised-eyebrow glance, Shane said, “All right, so maybe not our lives but definitely your shocks. Anyway, Mom and the girls will love Abby. She’s warm and sweet—”
“Not helping.”
“She is, and that’s what I was getting at. I wasn’t dissing her. It’s just that she’s all bubbly and light and super friendly and chatty, and you’re…not.” He laughed. “She’s your exact opposite whereas Sloane was the feminine version of you. The you before your last tour.”
He didn’t want to talk about Sloane. Anytime he did, the guilt and shame became unbearable. He’d failed her and Danny. They were twins—Sloane the older by ten minutes. They’d moved to Highland Falls in grade school, and within days, the three of them had been inseparable.
He’d heard Sloane had left town a couple weeks after he’d broken their engagement. She’d been a cop and transferred to Charlotte. Rumor had it her mother blamed Hunter for the loss of both of her children, as Sloane rarely came home.
“Just stop, okay, Shane. I—” he began as pulled onto Honeysuckle Ridge Road.
“Right, we’re not supposed to talk about Sloane or Danny or Afghanistan or how damn lucky we are that you came back alive. We mourn the men and women who didn’t come back as much as you do, but don’t expect us not to celebrate the fact that you did. You wanna know why Mom and the girls risked you disowning them over this? Because they saw in your eyes what we’ve all seen since Abby arrived in Highland Falls. Life, brother, and there was no way they were leaving town until they met the woman who put it there.”
Hunter turned onto the road leading to the farm. At the sight that greeted him his hands strangled the steering wheel and his blood pressure skyrocketed. Beyond the tour bus and the black SUV parked near the farm, people crawled in and around the barn like ants, invading his space.
“I’m going to kill her,” he muttered. He pressed on the gas, dust and stones kicking up under the tires as he sped down the gravel road. The truck bounced when he went over the small rise on a rutted path to the side of the meadow. Everyone turned, including his mother and sisters and the woman who’d just finished hugging them. Their eyes went wide when he slammed on the brakes, and the truck rocked back and forth.
He left the door hanging open as he strode from the truck and his brother staring at him whispering, “What the hell?” And then as though Shane’s shock cleared and he’d figured out who Hunter was about to kill, he shouted, “Hunter, wait! Let’s talk about this.”
“No.” He jabbed his finger at Abby, who held up her hands.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, just let me explain.”
He bent at the waist to put his face in hers. “This is mine. My space, my barn, my meadow, and you were warned what would happen if you let anyone in here.” He caught a flash of Hawaiian print coming out of the barn and turned his head. “Get the hell off my property now.” He straightened. “All of you.” Then he stabbed his finger at Abby again. “Don’t you or your dog set one foot or one paw on my property ever again. We’re done.”
“But, Hunter, you don’t understand. Everyone hated the tour, and they were going to give Sadie one-star reviews, and she can’t afford one-star reviews. No matter that she thinks she can, she can’t. I can’t tell you why Highland Tours’ success is so important to her because she told me in confidence—”
“Stop. I don’t care. I don’t care about you or anyone else. Just get the hell out of here.”
“Hunter Mackenzie, that is enough,” his mother said, placing a protective arm around Abby’s shoulders. His sisters, who used to look at him like he was their hero, shook their heads and joined their mother to support Abby. His brother did the same.
“I know you’re mad, and you have every right to be. No, he does. He really does,” Abby said to the murmurs of disagreement coming from his family and the small crowd gathered outside the barn. “But your art, your incredibly gorgeous and ferocious work, deserves to be seen.” She gestured to their audience. “You and your woodwork saved the tour. Everyone is in awe of your talent, Hunter. I’ve had four offers for the bear alone. They’re good offers. I mean really, really good. You could make a—”
He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket, punched in Owen’s number, and brought the phone to his ear. As soon as the chief answered, Hunter held Abby’s gaze and said, “I need you to come to the farm and arrest Abby Everhart for trespassing, breaking and entering, and whatever else you can charge her with.”
Chapter Twelve
Late that same afternoon, feeling dejected and defeated, Abby trudged back across the meadow toward the farmhouse, inadvertently crushing the fragrant wildflowers beneath her feet. Hunter’s truck was where he’d left it earlier, but he didn’t answer when she’d knocked and called through the barn door. She didn’t dare open it. She was nervous just being there.
Nothing about today had gone the way she’d hoped. After sharing earlier with Hunter how he was making her feel and him seeming willing to change his solicitous ways, she’d had pie-in-the-sky hopes for the day.
Riding high on Hunter’s You look good compliment and the fact that her berry doughnuts were so delish, she’d eaten two instead of the one she’d allotted herself. She’d even gone so far as to believe her luck had finally changed.
Just minutes before the tour bus had arrived, she’d done a visualization exercise. She’d imagined herself waving goodbye to the enthusiastic and happy tour guests with f
istfuls of money in her hands. The reality didn’t even come close. She hadn’t been able to wave goodbye to Sadie and the terrified tour guests because her hands were handcuffed behind her back, and there wasn’t a single dollar bill in either one of them. Not even the two sisters’ ten-dollar bill.
At the last minute (like no exaggeration—they were standing on the tour bus steps), the two sisters decided they didn’t want either the white ruffle apron or the tiny oil painting and demanded their money back.
Abby sighed as a cool wind swooped down from the mountains to swallow the warm, fragrant breeze and whip her hair around her face as she continued her trek back to the farmhouse. Unable to use her hands—she had Bella in one arm and a container of berry doughnuts in the other—she tried shaking her hair off her face but it was stuck to her tears. Like literally stuck because the glue she’d used to apply the fake eyelashes had somehow run down her cheeks along with her tears. So much for her hope that the eyelashes would mask her swollen eyes.
She tripped over something in the meadow and whimpered “Please be a stick. Please be a stick” but it was soft and a little squishy and felt nothing like a stick. Still, she didn’t hear it hiss so there was that. She did a nervous dance anyway and then picked up her pace.
Lifting her right arm, she used Bella to push the hair from her eyes. “Thanks, Boo.” She sniffed, and Bella went to lick her. Abby held her away from her. “Sorry, baby. I appreciate the love, I really do. But those were cheap fake eyelashes, and I don’t want you to get sick on the glue.” She blinked her left eye, trying to get the narrow black strip of eyelashes that was obscuring her vision to fall off as she walked on.
A gust of wind swirled by and nearly blew her off her feet. Once she’d regained her balance, she glanced at the ominous dark clouds chasing each other across the sky. “We might end up in Oz before the night is over, Boo. I’m sure Hunter would be thrilled.” She had a flashback of him yelling at her and sniffed back more tears as everything he’d said and everything she’d felt in that moment came rushing back.
But no matter how much he’d hurt her feelings, he had every right to be furious at her. She never should’ve allowed his space to be invaded. In her defense, it hadn’t been entirely her fault. Except she’d been almost glad when Hawaiian Guy had opened the barn door and introduced the tour group to the wonders of Hunter’s magical world. She’d wanted the tour to be a success for Sadie’s sake…and, yes, indirectly for hers. She didn’t like to fail at anything, and her portion of the farm tour had definitely been a bust until then. But in the end, all her good intentions were for nothing, thanks to Hunter.
She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised at the outcome. With her, good intentions were often tied to her gut instincts, which inevitably led to trouble and, the last two times, the threat of jail time. She needed a T-shirt with the saying THE ROAD TO HELL IS PAVED WITH GOOD INTENTIONS stamped on her chest as a reminder. Maybe then she’d think twice before embarking on another crusade.
The only reason she wasn’t in jail was because Hunter’s mother and sisters and brother had intervened. They were really nice, and Abby appreciated them sticking up for her. Except she had a feeling they might’ve indirectly made matters worse. But really, how much worse could they get? Hunter hated her, and he wasn’t going to help her with the house anymore.
At the reminder, her gaze flitted from the crooked porch to the tin roof rattling in the wind. Hunter had done a temporary fix to the roof on account of her lack of funds. He’d suggested she talk to the Realtor at Home Sweet Home to see if putting on a new one was worth the time and the money she didn’t have. She’d called and left a message but still hadn’t heard anything back. She was pretty sure she knew the reason why—Hunter’s aunt Elsa.
Abby imagined the older woman was thrilled that her nephew would no longer have anything to do with her. Then again, maybe Abby didn’t have to worry about Hunter’s aunt putting up roadblocks anymore. Now Elsa Mackenzie probably considered Abby selling out worth it to protect Hunter. It was funny, but right then, Abby wasn’t as worried about the work that needed to be done or selling the farmhouse as she was about Hunter never forgiving her.
Drops of rain splattered on her nose and cheeks, and she took off at a run, certain with the way her luck had been of late that those swollen black clouds were about to unleash a rainstorm of biblical proportions.
No sooner had the thought popped into her head than the heavens opened in a torrent of wind and rain. Tucking Bella close, she used the container of berry doughnuts to protect her dog, wondering why she couldn’t be right about something other than the weather.
In the few minutes that it took for her to reach the porch, Abby was soaked. Her hair was plastered to her head, her sundress to her body. And Bella, well, she kinda looked like a drowned rat. “At least Hunter won’t be around to tease you, baby,” she said as she juggled Bella and the container to open the door.
As soon as she got inside and closed the door, Abby put Bella down. Big mistake, she thought when her dog shook her way through the living room to the kitchen, spraying water as she went. Abby hurried over to the floral couch to grab a couple of towels out of the laundry basket.
She’d assumed her great-aunt didn’t have a washer and dryer and hadn’t thought to ask Hunter, who hadn’t thought to share when he saw her doing laundry in the kitchen sink yesterday. She’d found the almost-new stacked washer and dryer in a closet earlier today when she’d been on the hunt for another platter. Except she’d forgotten her clothes were still on the clothesline. It wasn’t until the little boy and his sister pointed out her underwear and bra flapping in the breeze during the tour that she remembered.
How did the pioneers do it? she wondered as she towel-dried her face and hair with the scratchy, hard towel. It smelled nice though. She turned on the kitchen light and mopped up the floor, then used the other towel to dry off Bella.
Once she was finished, Abby took them to the laundry closet. “Okay, Boo, I need a hot shower,” she said when she returned.
The ping of an incoming message stopped her midstride. Praying it was Hunter, she hurried back to the kitchen counter. She looked at the screen. Elinor had texted her. She’d received the pictures of Abby’s baking that she’d sent hours before.
I must say, I’m terribly impressed, Abby. You did a marvelous job. I’m sorry I didn’t respond sooner. We’ve just unloaded the last of my boxes at Kate’s.
Instead of responding by text, Abby called. A text seemed so impersonal. She felt horrible that she hadn’t checked to see how Elinor was doing today of all days. “I’m so sorry!” she said as soon as Elinor picked up. “I totally forgot today was your last day.” And she’d honestly expected Chandler to come to his senses and keep Elinor on. She’d worked for his family since he was a little boy, and she’d lived in the guesthouse on the property for just as long. But it seemed like whatever Juliette wanted, Juliette got. “Are you okay?”
“I am. Thank you for asking, dear. But truthfully, it would have been harder if not for Juliette being an absolute horror the entire week.”
“I’m sorry she was so awful to you.” And sorrier that Chandler had let her get away with it. Honestly, Abby didn’t know what was wrong with him. “After your decades of loyalty and service to the family, you deserve better.” It probably didn’t speak well of Abby, but she was secretly pleased Elinor didn’t like Juliette. “I hope Chandler gave you a huge retirement bonus.”
“I would have settled for a small one, but, as I understand it, the company is having financial difficulties. I gather there’s a problem with the new shampoo and conditioner upon which they’ve built their ad campaign. Chandler promised that, as soon as things turned around, he’d fulfill the agreement his parents made with me. But Juliette told him he wasn’t legally obligated so I’m not counting on it.”
Abby imagined that the company’s financial difficulties were responsible for Juliette being an absolute horror. “I can’t help but feel I
’m to blame for you not getting your bonus. If not for me, the company wouldn’t have had to create a new shampoo and conditioner and ad campaign in the first place. I’m so sorry, Elinor. These days I can’t seem to do anything right.”
“What happened? Did the furniture and bake sale not go well?”
“It was a bust, actually, and worse, I messed up badly with Hunter.”
“Is that the handsome man with the beard?”
“Yes, he’s the one who’s been helping me get the house ready for sale, remember?” She’d snuck a picture of him the other day when he’d been painting the living room ceiling and sent it to Elinor. Now that she thought about it, that may have been the reason she’d tripped over the tarp and ended up covered in ceiling paint.
“Of course. How could I have forgotten? Kate was quite entranced with the man. But speaking of forgetting, I’ve been meaning to tell you that, when Juliette had Tiffany over for drinks yesterday afternoon, I left out the photo of you with the men in kilts. Tiffany spotted it straightaway and was pea-green with envy. So bravo, your plan worked exactly as you’d hoped. She couldn’t stop talking about the photo. She wanted to know where exactly it had been taken and how you’d met the men.”
No, that wasn’t exactly what she’d hoped would happen. She didn’t want Tiffany asking questions. “You didn’t tell her the truth, did you?” Abby tried to push down the panic that she heard in her voice and felt in the pit of her stomach.
“I may have embellished a tad. I told her that while you were no longer living the life in LA, you were certainly living it in Highland Falls. I’m surprised you haven’t heard from her, actually. Although Juliette made it clear she wasn’t happy about Tiffany’s interest in you or how well I said you were doing. No doubt Tiffany doesn’t wish to find herself on Juliette’s bad side. Which I’m afraid I can relate to, as no doubt you can too, Abby.”
She nodded, then remembered she was on the phone. “Sadly, I can.”
As someone who’d been on Juliette’s bad side for almost a year, Abby totally understood how Tiffany felt. And if the new lines weren’t doing well, Abby was most likely still on Juliette’s bad side. So the last thing she wanted was to draw the attorney’s attention. Abby didn’t trust Juliette not to mess with her life. It was already messy enough, thank you very much.