by Debbie Mason
Elsa looked up from her book and came to her feet. “My nephew asked me to look after the table for him.” She nodded at a half-eaten cupcake. “I took that in lieu of payment.”
“That’s fine. Please, help yourself.” She glanced at Winter, who hovered outside the tent. She had a feeling the other woman knew more than she was letting on. “Is Hunter okay?” Abby asked his aunt.
She shook her head. “No. I don’t think he is.”
Winter came to stand beside Abby. “Sloane and her mother are here. He saw them, didn’t he? Sloane is Hunter’s ex-fiancée,” the mayor explained to Abby.
“Oh, okay,” Abby responded lamely.
She didn’t know why she felt so much worse than a deflated balloon now. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Hunter had been engaged. It would’ve been more of a surprise to learn he’d never loved someone or been loved in return. Without thinking, she pressed the tips of her fingers to her lips, remembering the mind-numbing kiss they’d shared earlier. She realized then the reason for the heavy, nauseating weight in her stomach.
If his ex was back in town, and Hunter had reacted as strongly as he had, there was only one way Abby saw this ending—the couple would soon be back together. Hunter wasn’t the type of man you let get away. Which meant Abby wouldn’t get another opportunity to explore her feelings for him or get another chance to kiss his warm, wonderful lips.
Maybe that was a good thing. She had a crappy history with men, after all. What was wrong with her? Elsa said he wasn’t doing well, and all Abby was thinking about was herself, when Hunter was obviously hurting. Some friend she was.
“Did Hunter try and talk to Sloane?” Winter had barely gotten out her question when Shane ran into the tent.
“Sorry, Abby,” he said as he brushed past her to confront his aunt. “I just heard Sloane and her mother are at the festival. Where’s my brother?”
“He left as soon as he saw them. They were over there.” Elsa pointed across the Village Green to the garden’s entrance. “Even from here, you could see that they don’t forgive him. Especially the mother. It was harder to tell with Sloane.”
“And Hunter?” Shane asked.
“How do you think? This would’ve been the first time he’s seen Sloane since he ended their engagement,” Elsa said.
“He didn’t end it. He gave her a choice, and she chose to blame him for Danny’s death. It’s bullshit. Hunter didn’t deserve that. He took a bullet to bring Danny home. It wasn’t his fault he died. My brother’s a hero.” He dragged a hand down his face. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I felt like he was coming back to us, and now this.”
They watched Shane walk away. His aunt was the first to break the silence. “These past few years have been hard on Shane too.” Elsa glanced at Abby. “For three weeks, we didn’t know if Hunter was dead or alive. They were on a mission in Afghanistan, and all contact had been lost. Then Hunter came back but it was like he’d left a part of himself in Afghanistan.”
“He can’t forgive himself for losing Danny,” the mayor murmured.
“He needs Sloane and her mother’s forgiveness. I was hoping, after all this time, they’d finally find it in their hearts to offer it to him. I guess I was wrong about Sloane. I thought…” Elsa released a heavy sigh. “I think I’ll close down early.”
The day had lost its appeal for Abby too, and she moved to the table to pack up the last of the cupcakes, filling two bakery boxes.
The mayor hugged Elsa. “Don’t miss tonight because of this. You need it.”
Elsa nodded and pulled away. “You’re probably right.”
Abby offered them each a box of cupcakes. “I find sugar helps when I’m feeling down.”
The mayor smiled. In the short amount of time she’d spent in Winter’s company, Abby had come to like and respect her.
“Thank you, Abby,” Winter said. “That’s very sweet of you. If you see Hunter, don’t let him push you away. He needs to talk to someone, and I think the someone he needs to talk to is you.”
“Granny MacLeod said the same thing,” Abby admitted, and then, seeing the shock on the two women’s faces, she held up a hand. “No, she didn’t say it in that creepy prophecy voice she has. She said it in her sweet, nosy Granny MacLeod voice.”
The mayor frowned and laid a concerned hand on Abby’s arm. “Has Granny MacLeod prophesized your future?”
“She did, only it wasn’t my future she saw. It was my past.” Because they’d so readily shared with her about Hunter, she shared her story with them. And while she didn’t do it for sympathy, she wanted Hunter’s aunt to realize she wasn’t the awful person she thought her to be. Abby had kind of hoped Hunter would do it for her, but that had been wishful thinking considering getting the man to talk was like pulling teeth.
Winter gave her a warm hug and thanked her for sharing her story with them while Hunter’s aunt gave her a long, considering look. Then she nodded and said, “I may have misjudged you, Abby Everhart.”
If Abby had worried that sharing her story with the two older women would result in them coddling and protecting her like Hunter had, she’d worried for nothing. Elsa accepted Abby’s help packing up her tent and then left Hunter’s cousins to cart it all away while Abby sat on a chair waiting for the man himself to arrive.
Three young girls packed up Winter’s tent while she was off judging a competition. Abby had filmed the dancers and singers and would’ve liked to see who won, but she didn’t want to miss Hunter’s arrival.
Two hours later, after texting him for a third time and receiving no response, Abby had to accept the fact that she was on her own. She looked around for someone she could ask for help but everyone had either cleared out or was gathered around the stage.
Even though the sun had gone down an hour earlier, the lights from the stage and the bonfire made it appear lighter than it would normally be at this time of night. Or so she’d thought when she began her trek to the parking lot loaded down with two coolers. She took her time making her way across the uneven ground. At least the lot was well lit, she thought as she deposited the coolers in an empty space and then trudged back for the tables and chairs.
On her last trip back to the parking lot, she was just thinking how grateful she was that Hunter had insisted she wear sneakers instead of heels, when she stumbled. A hand shot out of the dark and saved her from falling.
“Thanks,” Abby said once she’d regained her footing, turning to smile at her rescuer.
The woman was tall with long, dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail that showed off her gorgeous face and incredible light eyes. She wore a black tank top over a white one and a pair of well-worn jeans. She gave off a cool, confident vibe that Abby admired.
“Here. Let me help you,” the woman said, taking one of the tables from her.
Abby smiled her thanks, then sighed. “You make it look so easy. You must work out. Oh my gosh, look at the definition in your arms. They’re amazing.” She stopped and leaned the table against her legs to flex her arms. “I’ve seen four-year-olds with more definition than me.”
The woman gave her a closed-mouthed smile, reserved but not unfriendly. “Some people develop muscle easier than others.”
“I guess I’m just one of the unlucky ones.” Abby smiled as they reached the parking lot and nodded at her pile. “That’s me. Thanks again,” she said when the woman rested the table against the coolers and then took the other one from Abby and did the same. “I’m Abby, by the way.” She offered her hand.
The woman took Abby’s hand, and it wasn’t until her cool, firm fingers wrapped around Abby’s that she realized hers were sweaty. “I’m so sorry.” She pulled her hand away to wipe it on her jumpsuit and made a joke. “I’m so out of shape that even my hands sweat.”
The woman gave her another reserved smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Abby.” She looked around the lot. “Are you going to be okay here on your own?”
“My friend should be here soon. She j
ust has to do her last drop-off at Three Wild Women Winery. Maybe you know her, Sadie Gray? If you don’t know her, you’ll definitely know her grandmother, Granny MacLeod. Unless you’re a tourist. Are you—a tourist, I mean? Because if you are, Sadie and I are kicking off a great tour this weekend, and I’ll totally hook you up for helping me.”
With her head tilted to the side, the woman was looking at Abby like Hunter sometimes did. Abby sighed. “Sorry. I have verbal diarrhea. I really did appreciate your help.”
The woman glanced toward the other end of the lot when a truck door opened and a silver-haired woman stuck her head out. “Sloane, get a move on. I’ve been sitting here waiting for more than twenty minutes.”
“Nice to meet you, Abby,” the woman said, then turned to walk away.
Abby grabbed her arm. “Wait. You’re Hunter’s Sloane, aren’t you?”
“Not anymore. Have a good night.”
She needed to do something, to say something. All she did was talk; it was her superpower. She could talk to anyone but she didn’t know what to say to this woman. “I don’t know what happened between you and Hunter, Sloane. But he’s a really good guy. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s far from perfect. He’s the strong, silent type. I have a feeling you might be into that, but if you’re not, trust me, it can get really annoying. He’s a total alpha too, which I kinda get the impression you wouldn’t like.”
She touched her chest. “Confession time, I do. I know, I’m all girl-power and punching through the glass ceiling too but I seem to have a thing for a man’s man. Who knew? But under his tougher-than-nails exterior is a man who is kind, caring, and considerate. He truly is one of the good guys, Sloane. And trust me, there’s not a whole lot of them out there.” She didn’t think it would be appropriate to say that he also kisses like a dream or that he was one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen or that he had muscles that would make Michelangelo weep.
“I know he’s one of the good ones, Abby. But—”
Across the parking lot, a dome of light went on in a truck, and the silver-haired woman yelled, “Sloane!”
Sloane drew in a deep breath through her nose, then said, “I have to go.” She turned and walked across the gravel lot with a long, elegant stride, and Abby had never been more envious.
But for once in her life, Abby’s envy had nothing to do with the woman’s gorgeous face, incredible muscle definition, long legs, or easy grace. Abby was jealous because Hunter Mackenzie loved her.
* * *
An hour later, Sadie drove the tour bus up to the farmhouse and helped Abby unload the chairs, tables, and coolers onto the porch. “Just leave it there,” Abby said, and she gave Sadie a grateful hug. “Thanks for driving to my rescue.”
“Anytime,” Sadie said. “We’re partners now, right?”
“We are. But only for the next few weeks. Or at least until I sell this place.”
“I hear you. I don’t plan on running a tour company for the rest of my life. The summer is bad enough. Actually, that’s not true. I’m kinda looking forward to it now with you onboard.”
“Aw, that’s so nice.” Abby gave her another hug. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you. You’re the one with all the experience. I had no idea you had millions of followers on your YouTube channel and were such a big deal in LA, Abby.”
“I’m not anymore, and I’m definitely a very little deal here. It’s your experience and connections that will be even more useful here than mine.”
“Oh, wow, I forgot to tell you. I guess the news about Sloane blew mine out of the water.” She glanced over her shoulder, looking at the yellow barn that shone like a beacon in the dark night. “It doesn’t look like Hunter’s around. Are you going to tell him that you talked to Sloane?”
“I think so.” She chewed on her thumbnail, then looked at Sadie. “Now tell me your news.”
“Well, when I dropped off the last of the tour guests at Three Wild Women Winery, Daisy, one of the owners, mentioned that Mallory Maitland booked rooms for a bachelorette long weekend two weeks from now, and she asked if the winery could organize it for her. Daisy recommended us because they do hikes and winery stuff, but nothing like what Mallory seemed to be looking for.”
Sadie grabbed Abby’s hands and bounced on her toes. “This could be our ticket. Mallory grew up in Highland Falls and married some gazillionaire from Atlanta, and from what Daisy said, it sounded like Mallory has a sky’s-the-limit budget.”
“Oh my gosh, this could absolutely be our ticket, Sadie. We have to come up with something incredible, something no other tour company does.” And then she’d have to convince Mallory and her friends to let her film them. Abby tried to come up with something. But her brain was on empty, just like her body. “We’ll sleep on it tonight, and brainstorm in the morning.”
“Sounds good, and it sounds like someone needs to go outside,” she said at the barking and scratching coming from the other side of the farmhouse door.
They hugged and said goodbye, shared a happy dance, and then Abby inched her way inside the dark house to pick up Bella. She looked around, disappointed that there was no sign of Hunter. He’d taken Wolf and didn’t think to leave her a note or turn on a light. She refused to let her disappointment steal her excitement over Sadie’s news.
“It looks like we might have our ticket back to LA, Boo.” She picked up Bella’s leash and snapped it on the collar before grabbing a sweater off the coatrack and heading back outside.
She turned on the flashlight on her phone and held tight to Bella’s leash while shining the light on the patch of grass, looking for snakes. Frogs too. She didn’t trust them not to be poisonous. Bella did her business but didn’t show any interest in going back inside. Due to the swarm of mosquitos buzzing around her head, Abby was more than interested but felt guilty that Bella had spent most of the day inside.
“All right, we’ll go for a walk around the house.” She decided to stick toward the back of the house and the patio so she didn’t have to listen to Bella whine when Abby refused to walk across the meadow to the yellow barn. It would be a wasted trip. Hunter wasn’t there. Except if he wasn’t there, why did she smell wood smoke?
She squinted at the dark forest, positive she’d seen a dancing ball of light. There it was again. It was too big to be a firefly or even a swarm of them. Abby strained to listen to the night sounds, almost positive she’d heard women’s voices. But all she heard were the chirp of crickets, the croak of frogs, and the hooting of a great horned owl. She knew the exact type of owl it was because Hunter had pointed out its nest in the big pine tree. She also knew it could pick up her dog. So when Bella started barking, Abby decided it was time to go inside.
But just as she turned to round the house, a light breeze rustled the leaves on the trees and carried with it the faint sounds of women’s voices. Curious, Abby brought Bella back inside and grabbed a flashlight. She tucked her cell phone in the pocket of her sweater. “I’ll be right back, Boo.”
She found a narrow path and followed it and the dancing lights through the trees. For someone who wasn’t a fan of mother nature and the great outdoors, it was a little freaky, but Abby had a gut feeling that she had to keep going. As she got deeper in the woods, she counted at least seven lights, and orange sparks from a bonfire shot high into the night sky. The sound of women’s voices got louder. She wasn’t sure if they were chanting or singing but it was comforting to know she wasn’t alone.
As the trees thinned, Abby got a clear view of the women, and her eyes practically bugged out of her head. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing and dropped to her knees. Afraid they’d see her, she stretched out on the forest floor.
There was a semicircle of five standing stones. They were of varying heights; the taller ones looked to be nine feet tall and six feet wide. The smallest appeared to be as tall as her. The women danced among the imposing stones with their lanterns held aloft, singing softly. There was something about the scene
playing out before Abby that seemed familiar. Some of the women looked familiar too. She recognized Granny MacLeod, Elsa, Winter, Eden, and Josie.
Abby reached for her phone and began filming. And as she looked through the small screen, she remembered exactly why the scene seemed familiar. It was just like the opening from Outlander.
There was a soft rustle from behind her, and she froze. She swallowed hard, tempted to look over her shoulder but terrified of what she’d see. Something lurked in the woods. She could feel the weight of its presence.
She strained to hear something that would indicate how close it was or what it was, but her heart began pounding so hard it drowned out all sound. But not hard enough that it drowned out the thoughts in her head, specifically Granny MacLeod’s prediction. What if she really had seen Abby’s future and got the date wrong? What if she was going to die in the woods tonight? Right here. Right now.
Her breathing tried to outdo the frantic beating of her heart. She’d either faint or hyperventilate if she didn’t get herself under control.
You’re being ridiculous! You don’t have a superstitious bone in your body. This has nothing to do with Granny MacLeod. You’re just nervous they’ll see you, which they totally will if you don’t calm the heck down. Your imagination is getting the better of you. No one is breathing down your neck. You’re just—
A big hand clamped over her mouth.
Chapter Seventeen
Relax. It’s me,” a familiar deep voice said against her ear as she fought to free herself.
Abby smelled whiskey on Hunter’s breath. So instead of responding to her repeated texts, he’d chosen to go to a bar and drown his feelings for Sloane? Abby wanted to bite the hand he’d yet to remove from her mouth. Before she had a chance, he reached under her sweater, hauled her to her feet by the back of her jumpsuit, then proceeded to half-drag her down the path.