by Debbie Mason
Blair nodded, looking slightly mollified, but Sadie stared at Abby with wide eyes.
“I know,” Abby whispered over her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Sadie. I didn’t think. I was just so ticked off at Bridezilla—”
“I don’t care about that. I would’ve done the same. I just wish you’d opened the emergency door and Blair and her posse fell out,” Sadie whispered back. “But, Abs, we can’t afford to buy rounds for them. We—”
Mallory, who leaned forward as though checking out the scenery, said from the side of her mouth in a low voice, “I’m covering their bar bill. No,” she continued when Abby opened her mouth to argue. “I’m not broke, honest. I just didn’t want to make a big dent in my nest egg by throwing Blair a ten-thousand-dollar bachelorette weekend. We can talk about it later, but I’m paying for meals, drinks, accommodations, and whatever else. You’ve already saved me thousands with your glamping idea.”
Behind her, Abby felt Sadie sag with relief and did the same. She wanted to pay back at least some of what she owed Hunter and Ed, the owner of the hardware store, right away. She also needed to buy some special treats for Bella, who was once again stuck at home on her own. Still, Abby needed to be sure Mallory had thought this through. Abby and Sadie had been paying close attention to Atlanta’s gossip mavens on Twitter and Instagram, and it was looking like Mallory would lose the court case.
“So you’ll be okay if the judge finds against you?” Abby asked. They didn’t know each other well, but she didn’t want to think that Mallory would have to go through what she had.
“I’ll be okay. If I thought it’s what Harry wanted, I would’ve let Marsha—that’s his first wife—have it without a fight. But no matter what she says or what Blair or the press does, I don’t believe he did.”
If Blair backed the first wife, Abby thought Mallory was either a saint or an idiot for going ahead with the bachelorette weekend. She was just about to ask her about it when she realized a set of penises was missing. “Sadie, where’s your grandmother?”
“I knew it was too quiet!” Sadie cried. “Granny? Granny, are you okay?”
“Three. A left knee, a right knee, and a wee-knee!” came Granny’s voice from behind a seat in the middle of the bus.
Abby, Sadie, and Mallory shared a laugh, which drew the narrow-eyed attention of Blair. Great, now all three of them were on the woman’s radar. Abby smiled. “Blair, would you mind giving Granny MacLeod a hand up?”
“Good try.” Sadie laughed as she put the camera down to go to her grandmother’s aid.
Blair, no surprise, pretended she hadn’t heard Abby.
“She’s not wearing her red gloves as a fashion statement,” Sadie said. “She’s wearing them because I insisted. We noticed her gift of prophecy doesn’t work quite as well in the winter. At least when someone shakes her gloved hand.” Sadie gave Abby an apologetic shrug. “She hates wearing them in the summer, and I’d forgotten to check if she had them on the day we met you at the grocery store. That’s why I ran back to the car.”
Sadie’s apology led to Abby explaining about Granny MacLeod’s prophecy to Mallory, which in turn led to Abby explaining why she wasn’t worried about her death sentence. At Mallory’s insightful follow-up questions in regards to her stroke, Abby asked, “Are you in the medical field?”
“I’d just completed my first year of medical residency when Harry and I married. We learned his cancer had come back days before we left on our honeymoon.” She lifted her shoulder. “I didn’t finish my residency.”
“Will you finish it?” Having spent months in the hospital and then in rehab, Abby had a deep respect and affection for doctors and nurses. She had fond memories of the care and kindness she’d received. She credited her doctors and nurses with instilling in her the belief that she’d one day talk and walk again.
Mallory rubbed the side of her face with an elegant, manicured hand. “I should. The way things are going I’ll most likely need to bring in a paycheck in the not-too-distant future, but…This sounds incredibly selfish, but I nursed Harry for years, and then there’s been all of this drama with Marsha and Harry’s family and…I just need some time for me.” She grimaced. “I’ve never said that out loud before. It sounds even more horrible than in my head.”
“What it sounds like is you’re burned out.” After years of being Abby’s primary caregiver while also trying to keep a roof over their heads and the wolf from the door, Abby imagined her mother would understand only too well what Mallory was going through.
She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Bridezilla and her posse weren’t trying to listen in. “If the rest of Harry’s family are anything like Blair, I can only imagine how horrible the last year has been for you. Personally, I think it’s great that you recognize you need some time for yourself, and I hope you take it. As women, we tend to put everyone else’s needs before our own. Although Blair doesn’t seem to have that problem,” she said at the woman’s hyena laugh.
“She doesn’t. But she’s not entirely to blame. She was the only girl in the Maitland family and a late-in-life baby at that, so everyone spoiled her rotten. Harry most of all. Mainly because he had the money to do so.”
“You can tell me to mind my own business, but Blair’s not exactly nice to you, so why are you doing this for her?”
“Blair’s mother has stood by me through everything. She’s the only one who welcomed me into the family, and she hasn’t been well this past year.”
“Oh my gosh, you’re looking after her too?”
“As much as she’ll let me. But she’s doing much better now.” Mallory glanced over her shoulder at the women taking selfies in the back of the bus. “I thought that would improve my relationship with Blair, but it hasn’t.” She smiled at Sadie, who was having a heart-to-heart with her grandmother in the middle of the aisle, and then said to Abby, “Blair didn’t appreciate all the time I spent with her mother. She accused me of trying to take her place. Just like she accused me of doing with Harry. I’ve—”
“Are you talking about me to the bus driver?” Blair came to her feet with what looked like every intention of storming down the aisle.
“Yes, she was.” Abby gave Blair her best fake smile. It was a smile she’d perfected after having to spend time with Juliette Devereux at the company’s many social functions. “Mallory was telling me what a gorgeous bride you’ll make, and how much your uncle had wanted to be at your wedding.”
“Oh, well then.” Blair fluffed her hair as she took her seat, returning her attention to her friends until Granny MacLeod clapped her hands.
“Lassies, we’re fifteen miles from Highland Falls so we need to stay alert.”
“Alert for what?” A couple of the bridesmaids looked nervously around.
With her eyes on the road, Abby leaned back in her seat and Sadie moved forward. “She’s not going to tell them about the poisonous snakes and spiders, is she?” That was all they needed.
“No. I told her to point out the waterfalls as we drive by, then to tell them about the rumors that Jamie and Claire Fraser from Outlander fame were not a figment of the author’s imagination, but that the couple actually existed and that Fraser’s Ridge was based on Honeysuckle Ridge.”
Abby glanced in the rearview mirror at Granny MacLeod, who was peering out one of the windows. “But not about the you-know-what, right?”
“No way, I—”
Sadie’s grandmother cut her off with a gasp. “There. In the woods. Can you see him?” Granny MacLeod asked with what sounded like panic in her voice.
“Who?” three of the women asked in anxiety-riddled voices.
“Hunky highlanders!” Abby blurted in an attempt to break the nervous tension on the tour bus. “You can’t go anywhere in Highland Falls without running into—”
“Bigfoot,” Granny MacLeod said, then went on to tell of the reported sightings of the man-beast in the woods that surrounded Highland Falls. “You can Google it,” the nonagenarian sai
d at Blair’s snort of disbelief. “There are Bigfoot societies and a Bigfoot festival in the next county.”
“Is she serious?” Abby whispered. Both Sadie and Mallory grimaced, then nodded, reminding Abby that the elegant blonde was from Highland Falls and Boyd Carlisle’s daughter. Hunter had seemed surprised that Mallory had picked Highland Falls to host the bridal shower. Abby had a feeling Mallory might not have been behind the decision after all.
So as Granny MacLeod answered the bridal party’s curious questions about Bigfoot, Abby said, “Mallory, what made you decide to host the bachelorette weekend in Highland Falls?”
“It wasn’t my idea. It was Blair’s,” she said with an expression that implied she wanted to be anywhere but here.
Crap. Abby’s gut told her Blair was up to no good. Unless…She cut off Granny MacLeod and the bridesmaids, whose conversation had somehow made its way back to penises. Abby was confiscating every one of those headbands before they walked into Highland Brew.
“So, ladies, tell us what made you choose our lovely town to host your bachelorette weekend.” She smiled at herself. Lovely town indeed. Somehow, without her realizing it, she’d begun not only to feel a part of the town but to recognize its natural beauty as well.
Her question was met with silence. “Our beautiful blue mountains? Bountiful waterfalls? Hiking paths? Fishing?” She shouldn’t have mentioned fishing, not only because, like her, these women weren’t the type to fish but it made her think of Hunter and how much she wished he’d stayed home. Now that was weird. When had she begun to think of Honeysuckle Farm as home?
She pushed the thought aside for another time. She had a mystery to solve. “I know,” she said when the women remained stubbornly silent. “Our abundance of hunky highlanders and mountain men.”
The posse shared a glance with Bridezilla, who smirked. Double crap, Abby was almost positive she was right.
Sadie mustn’t have noticed the women’s silent exchange and leaned across to retrieve the microphone from her grandmother. “It has to be for the shopping, then. Highland Falls might be a small town but our locally owned boutiques are high-end and unique, and you won’t find a prettier Main Street than ours. And there’s nothing we like to celebrate more than our highland heritage, isn’t that right, Granny?”
Perfect. Sadie had gotten her grandmother off Bigfoot and on to sharing the town’s history, real and fictional. Abby glanced in the rearview mirror at Granny MacLeod’s mention of Outlander. Woohoo, she silently cheered. Four of the women were as fanatical about the television series as Tiffany and the Bel Air Bs. Abby decided, from now on, that should be the first question they ask potential tourees.
Behind her, Sadie breathed a sigh of relief while Mallory looked out the window, appearing lost in her thoughts. Abby glanced at Blair and vowed to do whatever she could to protect Mallory. First thing she’d do is share her fears with Sadie that Blair was out to embarrass Mallory, but right now Abby had to pay attention to the upcoming curve in the road.
Abby didn’t know what Granny MacLeod said, but all of a sudden the women were chanting Highland Brew. “Ten minutes, ladies,” she called back. “First I want to drive across our gorgeous flower bridge and over Highland Falls to the sound of ‘Amazing Grace’ played on the bagpipes. You’re in for a very special—”
They drowned her out by chanting, “Highland Brew. Highland Brew.”
Sadie shrugged. “You might as well give them what they want.”
“But Owen—he’ll be waiting on the bridge.” The turn-off for the old stone mill in which Highland Brew made its home was right before the WELCOME TO HIGHLAND FALLS sign.
“From the sounds of it, he won’t get the reaction we were hoping for. We’ll text him to join us at Highland Brew,” Sadie said.
Five minutes later, they were getting settled at Highland Brew. Blair and her posse grabbed a table close to the stage, which was when Abby discovered the draw. A sign announced that Shane and his band were performing at two. Granny MacLeod must’ve shown the women the band’s publicity photo; either that or the Highland Games poster with Shane front and center. A good sign, Abby decided. At least they knew handsome men in highland garb were a draw.
Abby took a seat with Sadie and Mallory at a table toward the back of the bar. To the right was the coffee side of the brewery—the smells of exotic brews wafted through the open stone archway. She also knew from Eden that they sold sandwiches, baked goods from Bites of Bliss, and gift baskets. The staff on both sides wore white T-shirts and what Sadie had informed her was black watch plaid. The brewery part of the old mill was polished wood and brass, with an older man and a younger man tending the bar. But one person was noticeably missing.
“Where’s your grandmother?” Abby asked Sadie.
Sadie looked around and pulled out her phone, tapping on the keys as she brought it to her ear. “Granny, where are you?” She listened and then nodded. “Okay. Wait for him in the shade.” She disconnected. “She’s waiting for Owen.”
“All right, tour ladies. We’re ready for our drinks now,” Blair said in a Southern drawl.
Sadie looked wide-eyed from Blair to Abby. “Does she seriously expect us to wait on her?”
“I’ll do it.” Mallory pushed to her feet, her chair bumping into the man sitting at the corner table behind them. “Sorry,” she apologized, releasing a tiny gasp when the man turned to smile at her.
“No problem,” he said in a deep voice that held a touch of New York. Abby had picked up an ear for accents while driving for Uber. And if she were Mallory right now, she might’ve fainted at the look in the man’s watchful gray gaze. With his thick, wavy dark hair and scruff-shadowed, chiseled jaw, he’d give the Highland Falls hotties a run for their money.
Exactly what Mallory needed to take her mind off her problems: a weekend fling with a hot man. “I’ve got this. You sit and…chat.” Abby smiled at the man, but he only had eyes for Mallory, whose gaze was locked on his. It was like a moment in a rom-com movie when the couple first meets. Sadly, it was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone.
Sadie fanned herself with the menu and said sotto voce, “Okay, I’m totally jealous. I bet Bridezilla is too.” She made a face and apologized to Mallory. “Sorry, I shouldn’t call her that.”
Her cheeks pink, Mallory waved off her apology. “Don’t worry about it. Once this wedding is over, I’m done with Blair.”
“Hopefully she’ll be done with you too,” Abby said, unable to shake the feeling that Blair was up to something.
“She would’ve been out of your life for good if I’d been driving the bus,” Sadie said with a laugh. “Hit the pothole, open the emergency door, and out she goes. No one the wiser.” Sadie’s phone pinged with incoming texts, and she glanced at the screen, responding with sharp taps on the keys. Another text followed and then another. Sadie was clearly unhappy with whoever was sending the texts.
Blair stood up and raised her hands. “Hello, bus driver. We’re waiting. Drinks on the house, remember?”
“Okay, guys, I’m not joking,” Sadie said. “She is getting on my last nerve, and my brother has eaten up most of my patience, so she better knock it off or I’m going to knock her off.”
At the table behind them, Mallory’s admirer stopped talking on his cell phone long enough to turn his narrowed gaze on Sadie.
“Um, you might want to keep talk of murder on the downlow,” Abby murmured with a furtive nod at the table behind them. She had a feeling Mallory’s admirer was either military or some sort of law enforcement.
As though to prove her right, the older bartender delivered a beer and burger to the table. “On the house, Chief.”
“Appreciate it, but I don’t officially take over from Owen until next week.” Mallory’s admirer accepted the beer and burger with a smile.
Blair suddenly appeared at their table. “Did I hear you correctly, sir? Are you the law in this pretty little town?” she asked all Georgia peach–like.
; “Not yet, ma’am.” He smiled politely at Blair, who clearly didn’t appreciate being ma’amed.
It looked like it took some work to keep her smile in place but she did and held out her hand. “Blair Maitland.”
“Gabriel Buchanan.” He nodded and turned back to his burger.
She seemed disappointed he didn’t recognize the name. “This is my aunt Mallory.” She placed a hand on Mallory’s shoulder as if to keep her from bolting. Soon-to-be Chief Buchanan shifted in his chair, his gaze holding Mallory’s, who lowered hers, color sweeping up her neck to her cheeks. “She’s originally from here, you know. Her daddy still lives around these parts. Boyd Carlisle. Isn’t that right, Mal?”
The spark of attraction Abby had noticed in the man’s gray eyes when he’d looked at Mallory earlier seemed a shade cooler as he regarded her now. Mallory looked like she wanted to crawl under the table.
Abby shot to her feet and took Blair by the arm. “We should let Mr. Buchanan get back to his beer and get you those drinks I promised. I hear they have great pub fare too. We’ll get you guys—”
Blair shook her off. “If you don’t recognize the name, you soon will. He’s the town drunk and makes moonshine. Isn’t that illegal?”
Sadie stood up. “Not here it isn’t. All you need is a license. And just FYI, Mr. Carlisle isn’t the town drunk, he’s the town’s hero. He saved two boys last winter.” She went to take Blair’s arm, but given how she was looking at the bride-to-be and how the soon-to-be chief was looking at Sadie, Abby intervened.
“Look, Shane and his band have arrived.” She nodded at the men entering the brewery. “Let’s get you settled before they start the show. Trust me, you don’t want to miss this.”
An hour later, Abby wished they had. She imagined Shane and his band did too when the slightly tipsy, penis-headband-wearing bridesmaids joined them onstage and the bride-to-be got up on a table to perform with Owen’s bagpipes. While Sadie tried to get Blair off the table in a manner that no doubt reinforced Highland Falls’ future chief of police’s impression that she was going to murder the woman.