by Hinze, Vicki
Surmising she’d readied the cottage, Gabby nodded and attempted a smile. “Hi.”
Standing on the porch, she didn’t move forward or signal she wanted to be let inside. “I intercepted the Fed Ex driver on the way in. I hope you don’t mind.” Kelly passed a bulky padded envelope. “Do you have any coffee made? I just pulled an all-nighter at the station and I need a boost of caffeine to make it home.”
She wore a cop’s uniform. Gabby was torn. Did she let her in or not? If she was Plumber’s sister, she was trustworthy but also a local cop, and she drove a Jeep, not a cruiser. Still, how dangerous could she be? “Sure, come in. I just put on a fresh pot.”
Kelly walked straight through to the kitchen, opened the right cabinet door and pulled out a mug, then poured. “I hope the groceries are okay. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I tried to get a little bit of everything.”
She’d guessed right. “You stocked the fridge and pantry?” Gabby stood watching her. Kelly seemed so at ease and comfortable. Clearly, she knew her way around the cottage.
“I did.” She took her cup and sat down at the breakfast bar. “Plumber said you’d be arriving late and needing some supplies.”
“That was kind of you, Kelly.” Gabby filled her mug and stood across the bar from her. “Thank you.” Her face reddened. “I need to repay you for the groceries.”
“Plumber already did.” She waved Gabby off. “I didn’t come out to intercept your package. I came because Plumber mentioned you might need a few clothing items to hold you over for a few days until you could get into town to shop.”
That had to have raised Kelly’s curiosity. Gabby wondered what the woman thought of it. Before she could work her way around to finding out, Kelly spilled her thoughts.
“Leaving an abusive relationship with no notice . . . That had to be hard.”
“I’m sure it’s never easy.” Gabby put the package on the counter by the stove. Did that qualify as a lie by omission? She didn’t actually say she’d been in an abusive relationship, though in a sense her relationship with her father did qualify. That was a thin-line quandary. Honesty, she valued. But lying grated at Gabby. She supposed she didn’t have a lot of choice, considering telling anyone the truth could put them in jeopardy, too. She had enough guilt on her plate without adding that.
Kelly looked Gabby over. “You’re about the same size as Sara Cramer. Or maybe Lys Hayden.”
“Who are they?” Gabby took a sip of her coffee, thinking she’d give her eye teeth for a cup of Earl Grey White Tip tea. She would not give that up, too.
“Sara does beautiful floral designs. She has a shop on the Cove. Sara—not Sara’s—Blossoms. Actually, she has flowers and a gardening center.” Kelly paused to drink from her mug. “Lys Hayden is a conservationist. She’s in law enforcement, too. Keeps an eye on wildlife and the preserve east of town. They’re both good people and my lifelong friends. We all grew up together here.” Kelly pulled out her phone. “I need just a sec.”
Gabby motioned she would step away, but Kelly said, “No, you’re fine.” She spoke into the phone. “Sara, I need some clothes. Just a couple casual outfits—enough for a few days. Plumber’s friend—yes, Gabby. That’s her. Anyway, she had to leave with nothing, and all the stores are closed today.” Kelly tilted the phone and told Gabby. “Gearing up for the Christmas Festival. It’s tomorrow night, so today’s an off day for almost everyone, so they can help setup. The residents cut a deal with Pastor Brown. You know, to keep attendance up at Sunday’s service.”
Post festival weariness, Gabby supposed. She nodded, having no idea what to say or do.
“I was thinking that, too,” Kelly said into the phone. “We’ll see you in half an hour, then.”
Half an hour? Gabby swallowed hard. How could she keep up this conversation for half an hour?
Kelly stowed her phone. “Sara’s calling Lys and they’ll bring you some emergency gear.” She shrugged. “I have no idea what to expect. Lys tromps around in overalls and muddy boots most of the time and Sara in jeans and t-shirts, but at least they won’t be too big for you.”
Gabby’s face heated. “I borrowed some clothes I found in the closet.”
“Plumber’s,” Kelly said. “That explains the cuffs on the sleeves and pant legs.” She laughed. “He’s a big guy.”
He was. Kelly’s laugh wasn’t degrading, but it was infectious. Gabby laughed with her. “I’m grateful for them.” She worried her lip. “I should have thought to stop and get some on the road, but it didn’t even cross my mind.”
“I expect your mind was right where it needed to be—on getting away. When someone is in that fight-or-flight state, clothes are the last of their worries.”
“True.” That’s as far as Gabby could go.
“You need to sit down, Gabby.” Kelly lifted a hand and rubbed her nape. “I’m getting a crick in my neck.”
“Sorry.” Gabby tugged a stool to her side of the bar. She didn’t feel at all threatened by Kelly, but a little distance was in order. Now this Sara and Lys were coming to the cottage and it’d be three against one. Gabby didn’t like her odds on that, but she had a feeling Kelly was exactly who she presented herself to be, and if she was Plumber’s sister . . .
But what if she wasn’t?
Kelly filled the time putting Gabby at ease. Giving her directions to the shops on the cove, telling her where to get her hair and nails done, and where to buy groceries.
“Is there a tea shop?” Gabby asked.
“Actually, no, there isn’t.” Kelly grunted. “Apple cider, coffee, and that kind of thing, but no tea shop. Maybe Alyce at the coffee shop could order in for you.”
Gabby ventured to present a little of herself. Well, her new self. “Maybe I’ll add teas to my little business.”
That surprised Kelly. “You’ve got a business?”
“Not yet. But I’m planning one.” Gabby took the leap. “I want to make soaps and maybe bath oils and lotions. And I love exotic teas.” She winced. “That’s an odd combination though, isn’t it?”
“I don’t see anything odd about it.” Kelly fluffed her hair then flipped it behind her shoulder. “Shoot, why not make it a hodgepodge of things you love kind of shop?”
“I’ve never heard of that of that kind of shop.”
“It’d be the first of its kind in the Cove.” Kelly refilled her cup. “Fill your shop only with things you love, no matter what they are.”
Clearly, Kelly liked the idea. Gabby wasn’t sold on it being a recipe for success. “That might make it hard for shoppers. They won’t know what to expect.”
Kelly set the coffee carafe back on its burner and grunted. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
“Isn’t it?” It flew in the face of conventional wisdom. No marketer in the world would agree uncertainty was a good idea. And yet . . .
“I think shoppers, particularly women, love to be surprised now and then. It’s like a Christmas Stocking.” Kelly returned to her seat. “You never know what you’re going to find in it, but you know it’ll be something special.”
“Or fun.”
“Or frivolous. Women love frivolous, but feel guilty buying, which of course, they do anyway.” Kelly’s eyes twinkled. “Your shop could be famous for spousal makeup gifts.”
“Famous for restoring the peace.” For shoppers and for Gabby.
“Famous for getting hubby out of the doghouse.” Kelly laughed hard and deep. “You’ll make a fortune.”
“I like that restoring the peace,” Gabby admitted. “It seems awfully self-indulgent and risky, but it sounds like fun, too.”
“Soaps and teas and—and whatever else Gabby treasures.”
Gabby stilled. That was it. The name of her business. “Gabby’s Treasures.” She smiled. “Kelly, you’re a genius.” The smile grew to a laugh, but steel determination settled under it. Mentally, she added it to her list. “One day, I am going to open a shop and call it Gabby’s Treasures.”
Kelly’s eyes sparkled. “Awesome. There happens to be a little place for lease in the business district.”
“I’m probably going to have to build an online business first to earn enough to fund an actual store.”
“Starting from scratch. I forgot. Sorry.” Kelly looked genuinely contrite. “Well, it just so happens the place is empty and it’s not doing anyone any good—the other merchants do not like to see empty stores. Let me talk to the owner and see if there’s anything he can do.”
“Who is the owner?”
“Plumber.” Kelly grinned.
“Oh, no. Don’t do that.” Gabby set down her cup. “He’s letting me stay here already. And I don’t have the funds to stock the place right now, so there’s no sense in it.”
Kelly nodded.
“Do you live in the farmhouse next door?”
“No, our folks do, when they’re not traveling.” Kelly grinned. “That’s not often these days, though they do usually make it home once a year for a week or two.”
“So they love to travel.”
“Mom does,” Kelly said. “Dad tolerates it because he loves her. He’d be planted on this property if it were just up to him. But he promised her they could travel, so when he retired, they bought a big RV and they’ve been on the road most of the time since.”
Gabby chuckled. “He’s enjoying it or he’d never be doing that.”
“Exactly.” Kelly nodded her agreement, then sipped at her coffee.
A knock on the door interrupted their conversation.
Kelly jumped to her feet. “Sara and Lys,” she said. “I’ll get it.”
Gabby checked the clock. Thirty minutes had passed already? She couldn’t believe it.
Sara and Lys came in with their arms full of clothes and dumped them on the sofa. Which was which, Gabby didn’t have a clue. Not until she looked at their shoes.
Lys wore boots—no mud. And a tan cap. Her sandy-blond hair was long, loose and curly, and her eyes bright and intelligent. Sara was a redhead, tiny and delicate looking. It was just a feeling, but Gabby thought that fragile look might be deceptive.
“Hi, Gabby. I’m Sara,” the redhead said.
“I’m Lys Hayden,” the blonde in boots said. “Glad to meet you.”
“We didn’t know what style you like, though neither of us has much in the way of stylish clothes, but we grabbed what we had, and you’re welcome to it.”
The gesture overwhelmed Gabby. Yes, the thought had crossed her mind that she’d been found and this could be a way Medros had wheedled his way in to kill her—she’d been warned the assassin could be anyone—but it was highly unlikely they’d come in as Christmas Cove locals, gifting her with clothes.
Kelly’s phone rang. “Oh, that’s Plumber.” She stepped away. “Hey, brother. What’s up?”
She listened for a moment while Gabby got Lys and Sara coffee, then Kelly said, “We’re at the cottage with Gabby right now.”
Hearing Kelly speak Gabby’s name caught her ear.
“Hang on a second. I’ll get her for you.” Kelly walked over and offered the phone. “Plumber wants to say hi.”
Gabby clasped it from Kelly. Her throat tightened. “Hello.”
“You okay or has the triple threat driven you up the wall already?”
Shadow Watcher. She’d know his voice anywhere. He was Plumber. “I was—”
“Freaking out that they might not be who they said they were. I can imagine you were. And Kelly comes on like gangbusters. Not a subtle gene in her. Sara’s more tranquil. Lys is tough, blunt but fair. I figured you’d have another day before she descended on you with the group of them, but then I remembered this was Kelly. So, I thought I’d better call and put your mind at ease.”
“I appreciate that, and you have.” The man was incredibly thoughtful and kind and so much more. She now had two names for him—Shadow Watcher and Plumber—and she still didn’t know his real name but made a mental note to only refer to him as Plumber to Kelly, Sara and Lys.
“Did you get the package today?”
“Yes. Kelly intercepted the Fed Ex driver and brought it in with her.”
He sighed. “Guess I should be glad she didn’t open it. She didn’t, did she?”
Gabby smiled. “It’s not opened.”
“Wait until they’ve gone. It’s a second phone for just us and some additional paper we dropped so your paper trail didn’t seem sparse when compared to other average people.”
“I will. Thanks for . . . everything.” Smart move, adding to the trail. Nothing stuck out in research so much as the absence of stuff. Every life had stuff.
“Soon.”
See you soon? Talk to you soon? He had to mean they would talk soon. “Soon.”
The line went dead and she passed the phone back to Kelly. “Thank you.”
Lys snagged a mug of coffee and inhaled deeply. “I love the idea for Gabby’s Treasures.”
Kelly had told them. And they were excited. Gabby wasn’t sure what to do with that. “It’s just a dream at this point.”
“Every dream is just a dream at the beginning,” Sara said. “I love special teas, but I’m not crazy about driving into St. Louis to get them. Having them in Christmas Cove would be fabulous. Your shop will fit right in.”
“I hate that drive, too,” Lys chimed in. “Besides, Gabby, every dream is an adventure. What’s not to love about an adventure?” Lys shrugged. “Do you love peppermint soap? I hope you do because I love it. The good kind—real peppermint oil.” She scrunched her mouth into a grimace. “The fake stuff just doesn’t hack it.”
“I’ll make some especially for you, using only the best,” Gabby said, feeling excitement well inside her. Not just about the shop, though there was plenty of that, too. But even more, she was a stranger to dreams and adventures. And to these women. Yet here they sat offering her encouragement and support.
This is what friends did. This is what having friends was like.
It was an alien feeling. A magnificent feeling.
Deeply moved at getting to experience it, Gabby’s eyes blurred.
“Hey, are you okay, Gabby?” Sara looked at her, concern in her expression and her voice.
Gabby nodded, debated on how honest to be, and decided to jump in all the way. “I’m moved. You are all so kind and good and supportive. I’ve never known that.”
Kelly frowned. “Abusers often see to that. They love isolating their victims.”
“I’ve heard that.” Sara sipped at her coffee.
Lys looked hard at Gabby. “So, he isolated you from other people? Friends and everything?”
“I’ve never had friends,” Gabby admitted, choosing her words carefully. “Or, to be honest, everything.”
“Ever?” Lys raised her voice. “Not even when you were a kid?”
“Ever.” Gabby cringed, feeling vulnerable and exposed, but she forced herself to push on. “Sometimes you self-isolate because you don’t want anyone else to know your family secrets.”
Sara started to say something, but Kelly raised a hand, silencing her. “Why not, Gabby?”
Her mouth went dry. This “all in” business was harder than giving up the Mustang. She tried but failed to meet Kelly’s eyes, focused just beyond her shoulder to the wall behind her, but seeing far beyond it and into her past. “Because you’re ashamed.”
“Of what?” Lys asked, claiming Gabby’s gaze. “Glare at me all you want, Kelly. I want to know.”
Gabby took a drink of coffee and set her cup firmly on the bar. “Being unlovable.” Even to her, her voice sounded reed thin and weak.
“That’s crazy, Gabby,” Lys belted out. “You’re beautiful and smart and you make good coffee. I know people who have built friendships on a lot less than that.”
“True.” Sara grunted. “Shoot, I know someone who married on less than that.”
“You don’t,” Kelly said. When Sara nodded, insisting she did, Kelly gasped. “Who?”
“My mother.” Sara bobbed her head. “She said my dad had a nice smile. She married him for his smile.”
“Humph.” Kelly grunted. “You know, I can see that. Your mom has a serious nature. A good smile would be important to her.” Kelly swerved her gaze back to Gabby. “You’re lovable, Gabby, and don’t you believe anyone who tells you different. Ever. It’s a straight up lie.”
“That’s right.” Lys said with an emphatic nod.
“Absolutely.” Sara sniffed, clearly affronted at the notion.
Gabby didn’t know what to say. They barely knew her yet defended her. “Thank you. Seriously.” Her throat went tight. “I’ll, um, try to remember that.”
“No problem.” Lys drained her cup. “If you forget, we’ll remind you.” She made her way to the coffeepot for a refill. “Friends do that.”
Sara grunted. “Friends have to do that, or those old tapes that run in our heads would drive us nuts.”
“True.” Kelly nodded her agreement. “Remember when I went through that phase?”
“Which one?” Lys asked.
“Ugly. I was totally and irredeemably ugly, inside and out.”
“Ugh! Do I ever,” Sara said. “She was a hot mess, Gabby, and clearly there wasn’t a drop of truth in it. But her dad said it, and so she believed it.”
“Dads don’t lie, and they love you,” Kelly said. “Of course, I believed it.”
Sara dipped her chin, slid Kelly a knowing look. “Dads also disapprove of their daughter’s dying their hair green for St. Patrick’s Day and overreact.”
“I think the henna tattoo of a four-leaf clover on your face bothered him more than the green hair,” Lys chimed in. “Honestly, he hated them both. The combination overwhelmed him, and he popped his cork.” She shrugged. “It happens.”
If you forget, we’ll remind you. Friends do that . . .
Gabby could scarcely believe it. They’d taken her in. Just that fast, she was one of them. All her life she’d craved just one friend. And in her new life, in the span of a few hours, she had three.