by Debbie Mason
She should’ve listened to Hunter. She never should’ve entered the race. It was laughable that she thought she could compete with Sloane. Abby was pretty sure she saw the woman coming down the mountain before Abby had even made it to the quarter-mile mark. Sloane didn’t look like she’d broken a sweat, whereas Abby had been hot and dripping wet. But her lack of athletic ability wasn’t to blame for her slow progress or how she’d ended up lost in the woods.
At the quarter-mile mark, she’d stopped mid-stride, frozen at the sight of one of the runners near the back of the pack with her. The woman was Tiffany’s identical twin, and she was running with three women who looked exactly like the Bel Air Bs, albeit with some recent face work and one boob job. But when Tiffany’s twin broke into a familiar high-pitched laugh and turned her head, Abby ran into the bush. Terrified that she’d seen her and would come looking for her, Abby, like an idiot, kept running.
Because she’d been afraid Tiffany and the Bel Air Bs would find out her luxurious mountain hideaway was a farm still in need of work, and that she was still close to broke. But they’d also see that, despite her fears earlier today, she had her very own hunky highlander, who didn’t care that she was clumsy, couldn’t read all that well, and mixed up her words.
All Hunter had tried to do today was keep her safe, and she’d acted like an insecure biatch. She was glad he and Sloane had finally talked. Despite Sloane being the kind of woman Abby could only dream about becoming, she really liked her. Now Abby just had to figure a way out of the woods so she could finally sleep under the stars with Hunter and tell him how much she loved him.
She took in her surroundings and panic bubbled up inside her as she remembered everything that crawled and slithered on the forest floor. She drew her knees to her chest, curling inward. Don’t panic. Stay calm. She whispered her father’s words. Then more words: fire, water, food, shelter. Remember the girl you used to be, she told herself. Fearless, confident, up for anything. She was there, somewhere inside her. As with her dad’s voice, all she had to do was reclaim the memory, reclaim that part of her that she’d buried deep inside.
Pushing to her feet, Abby searched for a big stick to carry before setting out on her journey back to the man she loved, and it wasn’t only her dad’s voice that she heard as she walked through the woods, it was Hunter’s.
Three leaves, leave it be. Blue, black, purple berries mostly safe. Only pick mushrooms with tan and brown gills, white, tan, and brown caps. Don’t drink out of a stream unless you have no choice. Dig a hole a foot deep and wait, strain the muddy water through a cloth.
She walked for hours, foraging and listening for the sounds of people, cars, water. The already dark forest grew steadily darker as day turned into night. Above her, the sky lit up, and thunder rumbled. She needed to find shelter. A flutter of nerves weakened her knees, but she fought past it. Up ahead, she spotted a rocky outcropping and moved toward it. She’d have to climb up a steep ridge to get to it. You’ve got this, she told herself.
Abby awoke hours later stiff and cold, itchy from bug bites, and prayed the night was over. She pushed herself upright and stuck her head out. A shaft of early morning light shone through the leafy canopy. She’d done it. She’d survived a night alone in the woods. She, the woman who’d been terrified of anything and everything when she first arrived in Highland Falls, had made it despite being surrounded by creatures of the night. She hadn’t died; she’d thrived. The thought filled her with confidence and hope.
But as the day wore on, her confidence began to dwindle. She sat on a rock to regroup, and that’s when she heard it, the roar of water in the distance and the faint sound of voices. She followed the sounds, picking up her pace as the voices got louder. She heard cars, and then through the trees saw flashes of silver and white whizzing by. She stumbled out of the woods. A man parked on the side of the road looked over, startled.
“You’re the woman who went missing yesterday, aren’t you?” he said, coming to her side.
She nodded, tears of relief spilling down her cheeks. He patted her shoulder and smiled. “They’ve set up a command center at the games. I’ll take you there. The paramedics can check you over.” He got her settled in his van and then handed her a bottle of water. Ten minutes later, they arrived at the field. The man ignored the officer telling him to stop, powering down his window to yell “I’ve got the woman you’re looking for.”
He drove across the field, honking his horn to get people out of the way. As soon as he stopped, the vehicle was swarmed. A woman helped her out while calling for the paramedics. Someone else wrapped a blanket around her. Then she heard someone on the radio letting search-and-rescue know she was safe. Word spread quickly that she’d been found, and the area was soon crowded with familiar faces. Owen and Elsa rushed over, followed by the mayor.
Abby answered their questions and thanked the man who’d driven her there. Somewhere to the far left of the crowd that continued to grow, she heard Hunter demand, “Where is she?” He sounded like he was going to tear someone apart, and he didn’t sound like the Hunter she knew and loved.
“Here. Hunter, I’m here.” She stood up, letting the blanket fall to go to him. She hadn’t moved more than a foot and he was there, in front of her, and she knew from the haunted look in his eyes that this wouldn’t be the reunion she’d dreamed of.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he yelled, taking her by the shoulders to shake her.
Shane pushed through the crowd to put a hand on his brother’s arm. “Hunter, take it easy. She’s okay.”
It was as if Shane weren’t there. Hunter didn’t take his eyes off her. “How many times did I tell you to be careful? To not go in the woods alone? You promised. You promised you’d be careful.” His eyes searched her face as his hands left her shoulders to fall to his sides. “I thought you were dead.” His voice was a dull monotone.
“I know. I didn’t think, Hunter. Please, let me explain.”
He shook his head. “We’re done. You need to leave. You need to go back to LA.”
“You don’t mean that,” she whispered, suddenly aware that the crowd had gone completely quiet and still.
“Yeah, I do,” he said to the ground, then he nodded and turned to walk away.
She stared after him, knowing that everyone was watching her. She blinked back tears, trying to hold it together. But it was as if the Universe decided she hadn’t been tested enough, and a voice from her past called her name. Through a veil of tears, she saw four women standing before her. It was Tiffany and the Bel Air Bs. Abby hadn’t been imagining things. They really were here.
She stiffened her spine. She could get through this. If the last twenty-four hours had taught her anything, it had taught her that she could handle whatever life had to throw at her. She’d embraced the fearless, adventurous girl she used to be, and she wasn’t going to bury her again for anyone.
“We’re so glad you’re okay, Abby. We couldn’t believe it when we heard you were the one lost in the woods. We thought you were a goner for sure. I mean, you’re the ultimate city girl. You do not do the woods. Now here you are, right as rain after being missing for more than a day. You’re our new shero—isn’t she, girls?”
Abby didn’t feel like a shero. It was hard to after watching the man she loved walk away from her. She hadn’t done it on purpose, but she’d made him relive the worst moments of his life, his greatest fear. He thought another of Granny MacLeod’s prophecies had come to pass. Yet he’d gone after her, even while thinking he’d find her dead in the woods.
What he didn’t know was that he was right and so was Granny MacLeod. A part of Abby, the fear and shame that had been her constant companions since her accident, had died in the woods yesterday. They’d no longer rule her life or play a role in every decision she made.
“And this place, it’s exactly how I dreamed it would be,” Tiffany continued. “We subscribe to your new channel, and we love it. So much better than the last one. Which i
s why I’m about to make your dreams come true. I want to buy the farm from you. We stopped by earlier hoping to see you and had a look around. I hope you don’t mind. But it’s the perfect vacay property. So what do you say, seven hundred and fifty thousand?”
Abby blinked. Tiffany’s offer was incredible, more than Abby had dreamed of getting for Honeysuckle Farm. Actually, that wasn’t quite true. On the drive to the farm, that was the number she’d mentioned to Stan. It was more than enough money to pay off Sadie’s brother and rent a place for herself and Bella in a good neighborhood in LA. She saw what her life would be like in high definition. In no time at all, she’d be rich and famous again. But everyone crowded around her—Mallory, Sadie, Granny MacLeod, Owen, Hunter’s family, Winter, Josie, Sloane, Ed, and Walter—they weren’t in that picture. And neither was the man she loved or the dog she and Bella loved.
And there’d be no standing on her front porch enjoying the cool mountain air while listening to the sound of the gurgling stream. She’d miss the sunrise and sunset visits of the owl, the eagle, and the deer. She’d miss sun-warmed tomatoes and berries and the meadow of rainbow-colored flowers.
“Okay, you drive a hard bargain,” Tiffany said. “I can go to eight hundred thousand, but no higher. Does that work for you?”
Abby smiled. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not selling. The farm is my great-aunt’s legacy to me, and I think it’s about time I did something with it.” She looked at Owen and Elsa. “I might need some help though.”
“You’ll have all the help you need,” Elsa and Owen promised at almost the same time. Then Elsa added: “With my nephew as well as the farm,” and the rest of Hunter’s family agreed.
Tiffany and the Bel Air Bs—Babes, Abby corrected in her head—hugged her. “I wish I could take back that day in the kitchen, Abby. But if I did, you wouldn’t be here, and it’s clearly where you were meant to be. I’m happy for you.” Tiffany grinned. “A little jealous too.”
Mallory and Sadie waited until the end of the long line of people to hug her, and so did Sloane. “Don’t give up on him, Abby. He loves you.” Sloane glanced at the mountain. “I’ve never seen him like that. He was terrified he’d lost you. He thought he had. Give him some time. There are things he needs to work through that don’t have anything to do with you.”
Abby nodded. Hunter had to deal with his ghosts and his guilt once and for all.
Chapter Thirty
It took ten days for Hunter’s nightmares to stop. He worked out the dreams that haunted him in his carvings—his guilt, his fear, his shame. Abby had gotten lost because of him. She’d had to save herself because he’d failed to find her. They were the stories he told himself until Abby set him straight.
She didn’t come to see him on the land where he now lived—she wrote him a letter. And knowing how hard that was for her touched him as much as her words. She loved him, and she promised to wait for him for as long as Owen had waited for Liz. Honeysuckle Farm was his as much as it was hers. When he was ready to come home, they’d be there waiting for him.
He’d moved out of the barn the day he’d walked away from her and signed over his half of the farm to Abby. He’d planned to live in his brother’s garage until he figured out where to go, but Sloane had found him hours later. She’d signed the property on Mirror Lake back to him. She’d also returned the money he’d been sending to her every month for the past two years. She’d never touched it, and neither had her mother.
Their reasons for not doing so weren’t the same. Her mother would never forgive him. Sloane never blamed him. She’d been angry at him and at Danny, and she’d lashed out. Same as he’d lashed out at Abby the morning she’d walked out of the woods.
Abby knew that. She’d absolved him of his guilt in the letter Owen had delivered yesterday. His old friend had delivered a message of his own: Either Hunter wanted Abby in his life or he didn’t, but the time for him to decide was up. While he’d been wallowing—as Owen put it—another load of crap had landed on Abby.
The day before Owen had delivered Abby’s letter and his ultimatum, Hunter had already realized that being without Abby was more painful than living with the fear of losing her. She’d brought light and laughter back to his life, as his latest carving proved. He no longer saw the faces of wild and ferocious beasts in the wood; he saw her. He removed the tarp from his latest work and stood back, glancing over his shoulder at the rustle of grass.
His brother stood with two mugs of steaming coffee in his hand, staring at the carving. It was Abby. Her hair was streaming behind her as she swung high in the sky with a smile on her face, confident that he would always be there to catch her. In three days, he would prove to her that she could depend on him. He wouldn’t let her down. She’d never doubt his love for her again.
“I know you don’t think of yourself as an artist, but, brother, that belongs in a gallery.”
He smiled, accepting the compliment and the mug from Shane. “It’s the one piece I’ll never sell. Did Eden hear back from her friend?”
“She did. The money will be in your account by end of day Friday.” He looked around. “Where’s Wolf?”
“He’s gone home.”
* * *
Wearing her white beekeeper suit, Abby gingerly removed the lid, leaning it against the hive. Owen, wearing a suit identical to hers, handed her the smoker. Once she’d applied smoke to the hive, she handed it back to him. She waited two minutes for the smoke to do its work before removing the frame.
“You’ve got company,” Owen said, taking the frame from her. He shook his head at the question in her eyes. It wasn’t Hunter. She worked to keep her disappointment from showing. Owen had been angry when Hunter didn’t come back to the farm yesterday. He’d expected him to come as soon as he’d read Abby’s letter. She had too.
As she walked back to the house, she removed her gloves and the hood with the veil. She smiled at Wolf, who’d risen from where he’d been stretched out on the porch with Bella soaking up the sun. His arrival had taken some of the sting out of Hunter’s rejection. She held on to the hope that soon his master would follow his dog’s lead.
“Abby!”
Her gaze shot to the gorgeous, leggy blondes getting out of the black sedan parked on the gravel drive. She dropped her hood and gloves. “Haven! Haley!” she cried, running into their open arms. “Oh my gosh! What are you guys doing here?” She hugged them again. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Someone cleared their throat, and Abby looked around her sisters. “Don’t I get a hello and a hug?”
“Mom? What’s going on? Is someone sick?” Her hand went to her throat. “Is Tim okay?” she asked after her stepfather.
“He’s fine,” her mom said, and gathered Abby in a warm hug. “Your sisters got a text yesterday that you needed them. And I thought that if you needed them, you needed your mother too. So what is it? What’s going on?”
The only person who would text her sisters was Hunter. She didn’t think it boded well that he’d sent them instead of coming himself. She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a weak smile. “You’re probably going to want to sit for this. So let’s get you settled in first.”
An hour later, as the four of them sat on the patio with glasses of honey-sweetened iced tea, Abby told her mother what her life had been like for the past year. She would’ve just as soon left it in the past, but it played into the latest drama that was set to unfold at the farm that Saturday.
Her mother stared at her, then stood up.
“Mom, where are you going?” she asked
“To get something stronger to drink.” She returned moments later with a bottle of wine and two glasses. She put them on the table beside her chair, then sat, her lips pressed together.
When she looked away, Abby’s sisters shared what’s going on? glances with her.
She was as much in the dark as they were until her mother brought her gaze back to Abby, her eyes shiny. “I don’t know what I’ve do
ne that you’ve felt you needed to keep this from me. No.” She raised her hand when Abby went to protest. “It’s not the time. Not when Juliette and Chandler are threatening the life you’re making here. But later, Abby. Later you and I will talk.”
She leaned over to take her mother’s hand. “We’ll talk, but I just want you to know, it wasn’t you. It was me.”
“Abs, that’s not true,” Haley said. “It was all of us. We let you put distance between us, and we’re not letting you do that anymore. Are we, Haven?”
“Nope, we’re not. We’ve talked to you more since you moved here than we have the entire time you lived in LA, and we realized how much we’ve missed you.”
“I haven’t,” their mother said.
“Mom!” the twins cried.
“What? I’ve hardly talked to her at all. You kept stealing my phone and having long FaceTime calls together, and you never included me.” She sniffed and crossed her arms. “Tell your sister your news.”
“See, Mom, that is one thing you need to stop doing. You brag about us all the time. Every time we talked to Abby, you’d go on and on about us,” said Haley, the sister who didn’t mind conflict.
Her mother frowned. “But that’s why she phones. She wants to hear about you girls. She doesn’t want to talk to—” She shifted in the chair to pour a glass of wine.
“Oh, Mom, I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t care about you or want to talk to you.” At the sound of the screen door opening, Abby wiped her eyes.
“Abby—” Owen began as he came around the corner. He took one look at the four of them crying and said, “I’ll get more wine.”
Two hours and a bottle of wine later, Abby and her mother and sisters had moved on from crying to laughing to plotting.
With no malice intended on Tiffany’s part, she had shared about her visit to Highland Falls and her offer to buy Honeysuckle Farm with Chandler and Juliette. And, as Elinor had learned and shared with Abby, Chandler was in desperate need of money, no matter how small the amount. He’d already refinanced the mansion in Bel Air.