“You promise to keep the cabin exactly as it is?” She’d grown attached to the place. It was the last place she would have thought she’d feel comfortable in, but it was the only place that felt like home.
“I’m not changing a thing. It can be what it is.” He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her waist. “It’s where I fell in love with you. I’d never destroy that.”
She could hardly believe how much their lives had changed. How one post had transformed everything for them. While Tilden had found out the truth before he received Bea’s letter, her report only strengthened his case. A case he didn’t need to make in order to belong in Aspen Cove.
Once the title was transferred into his name, he took Goldie over to Abby’s house to meet her. She was kin by an affair but family, nonetheless.
They sat over a pitcher of iced tea and talked about bees and honey. She asked what he planned to do with the land but Tilden wasn’t certain.
On their way back to the truck, Abby told them that whatever they did it was fine with her.
“Tell me again what kind of house we’re building?”
Tilden took her by the hand and walked her toward the plot of land that had been cleared of trees. “It’s a green house. Not the type that grows plants, but the type that leaves a smaller footprint on the land.”
“You’re doing that because you feel guilty that you leased all those acres to Cade Mosier.”
Before she knew it, she was swept into his arms and he was rushing back to the cabin. “You’re way too smart for your own good.”
They’d made it to the porch when Abby Garrett’s truck screeched to a halt in front of them.
She jumped out and raced toward them like an angry hive of bees.
“How could you?” she screamed. “He's destroying my hives.”
Tilden looked at her and then at Abby. She could see that part of him wanted to laugh by the twitch of his lips and part of him wanted to hide by the way he leaned toward the door.
Goldie squirmed out of his arms.
She lifted onto her tiptoes and kissed him. “You’re up, Mr. McCoy. Time to calm down Ms. Hatfield. I’ll be inside waiting for you.”
It would seem like another battle was ready to begin, but this time it was between the Mosiers and Garretts and Goldie was putting her money on Abby.
Find out if Abby can welcome and embrace her new neighbor Cade Mosier or if another feud is brewing.
Sneak Peek at One Hundred Regrets
Abby
Abby Garrett burst through her front door with a song on her lips and warmth in her heart. Spring had come to Aspen Cove and she was ready to shake off the winter doldrums.
With a towel in her hand, she traipsed through a field of ankle high grass toward the pond on the land next to hers.
It was her ritual to take a dip in the cool water on the first day of spring. Today was perfect because the sun was up, the skies were blue, and off in the distance, the beautiful buzz of bees filled the air. Her hives were coming to life.
Many people in Aspen Cove would take a dip in the lake, but not her. Big bodies of water warmed more slowly, and the small pond was perfect for what she needed—a new beginning.
At the end of the pond, she slipped out of her clothes and dipped her toe into the frigid water. She could almost hear her mother tell her to jump in with both feet.
Mabel Garrett was always one to give advice but not to take it. She’d never been a fan of the property that sat between the peaks—a valley carved out by harsh weather and pioneers. No, her mother liked living in town where the gossip was ripe, the coffee was hot, and Peter Larkin was always ready.
She shuddered to think that her mother had ever fallen into bed with the man who never matched his socks or his shoes for that matter, but then again, loneliness often made people more attractive. It was funny how a three on the hot scale could become a seven if the heart ached for companionship.
She looked over her shoulder to make sure Eden Mosier hadn’t arrived yet, and when the coast was clear, she walked into the shallow end bare ass naked and dove under surface at the deep end of the pond.
“Holy hell,” she screamed as she broke through the water and sucked in a breath of air. She sank back down and pushed off the slick rock bottom before turning on her back to float a bit.
The clouds rushed by as she watched them turn from billowing white puffs into whatever her imagination could conjure.
This was a favorite pastime of hers. To lie in a meadow of clover and watch a cloud turn into a sailboat, a rabbit, a sunflower, or on a good day, a man.
“Only man you’ll ever get, and like the real ones, they’re fleeting. Taken away by a gust of wind or a prettier woman.”
On that somber note, she swam to the shallows and emerged from the water. Puddles pooled at her feet. She reached for her towel and wrapped it around her body, gathered up her things and walked back to her cabin feeling refreshed and renewed. This spring was destined to bring her something new, she could smell it on the air—or maybe that was the fresh bloomed clover cushioning her feet as she walked the path back to her home.
Every time she took it in from a distance, she was proud of the people who had built it—her ancestors. How they’d seen the potential of a piece of land tucked away from everything else. It was as if they knew she’d need a place of her own when the world outside was harsh.
Once showered and dressed, she prepared a pot of hot water and set out two teacups. It wasn’t every day she got company. In fact, she rarely had visitors. The last one had been Tilden, and he’d been delivering firewood, so it wasn’t exactly a social visit.
The sound of tires on gravel down the road made her stomach drop. She wasn’t good with people. She was better with bees. At least their sting hurt less. She never knew if people’s intentions were good or not. At least with bees, they were predictable. They flew around, collected pollen, and came back to the hive, only to do it again. If she stood in their way, they would sting her. They fought fiercely for their queen. That kind of loyalty couldn’t be argued with.
Thinking of bees, she pulled a jar and dipper from the shelf and plated up some honeycomb and fresh scones then waited for the SUV to arrive. She opened the door when her guest parked.
Eden climbed from the car and smiled, and the weight of social anxiety dissipated. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the woman who’d stolen the heart of her last crush.
Stolen wasn’t exactly the right word because Thomas had never returned her affection. He was always kind and considerate, but he wasn’t interested in more than a passing hello. That was her fate. Always liked, but never chosen.
“Good morning.” Abby stepped onto the porch and waved.
“It is a good morning, isn’t it?” Eden bubbled. “I saw a deer and a rabbit on my way over. Do you get a lot of wildlife out here?”
Eden made her way up the stairs.
“Yes, I see a lot of antelope, rabbits, a fox or two. We have wolves that run around, but they generally stay in the wooded areas.” She led her inside the rustic cabin and pointed to the table, where Eden took one of the empty seats. “I have some tea and scones.”
“That looks amazing.” She glanced around her home to see it from Eden’s perspective. It wasn’t House Beautiful Magazine worthy but could rival any property found in Field and Stream.
“I heard that Goldie nearly got eaten by a wolf.”
Abby laughed. “Is that what they’re calling Tilden these days?” It was funny to learn the history after the truth came out. Tilden Cool was her cousin, although it was debated as to whether the story was true. No one was around to confirm that her great-great-grandfather Walt Carver had an affair with Ginny Coolidge. All they had was a diary and one woman’s account of the events. It was that diary that had brought Tilden to Aspen Cove. Abby was certainly glad she had never set her sights on Tilden. Inbreeding wasn’t on her bucket list.
“Funny how opposites attract, right?” Eden
twisted her hands in her lap. She appeared as nervous as Abby.
In order to break the ice and put the girl at ease, Abby poured the tea and took a seat. “Yes, love seems to be a disease in town. Glad I live out here where I’m not liable to catch it.”
Eden stirred the dipper into the honey and held it over her cup. The amber liquid flowed like molten gold into her tea.
“I never imagined I’d fall in love either, but it happens when you’re least expecting it. Funny thing was, while Thomas was always nice to me, he never appeared interested.” She blushed. “Well, that is until he kissed me, and then all bets were off. We had a baby before we had sex.” Her cheeks turned bubblegum pink.
Abby didn’t want to think about Thomas and Eden kissing. It wasn’t that she was jealous, or maybe that’s exactly what it was, but she’d never hold it against the woman sitting in front of her. Eden was hard not to like. She was kind and considerate and always had a smile on her face.
“How’s the baby?”
Eden nearly turned to goo in her seat. “Oh, he’s perfect. The funny thing is everyone thinks he looks just like Thomas.” She giggled. “We don’t correct them because, in everything but DNA, Thomas is his father.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t bring little Thomas with you. How old is he now?”
“Tommy is going on six months and since Thomas is not on duty, he wanted to keep him home.”
A thread of envy wound through her gut and twisted her insides. If anyone had told her ten years ago she’d be single living alone with a finicky cat, she would have told them they were crazy. She’d known love, had felt it in every cell of her body. Sadly, it was the love she had for a man that took everything she offered and left with another woman—her best friend. That’s how a woman with a degree in biology became a recluse beekeeper.
“I’m glad you came.”
Eden eyed the sticky honeycomb. “You raise bees, right?” A tiny shudder shook her body.
It was a natural reaction to her job. How funny was it that people feared something so small and harmless? Bees did more good than bad.
“Yes, I guess you can say that. I’d rather think of it as keeping bees. They do the raising themselves. And while I think of them as my babies, I didn’t have to birth them, feed them, or clean up after them. They pretty much do it all themselves.”
“This honey from one of your hives?” She picked up the stick again and let it drizzle back into the container.
“Yes, it’s raw and unfiltered, which means it has all the good stuff still in it.” She pushed the plate of scones toward Eden and the honeycomb. “You haven’t tasted heaven until you’ve had a warm scone with butter and honeycomb.”
“Is it safe to eat?”
Abby laughed. “I’m not much into poisoning people. That was my ancestors,” she joked. “Although they only killed themselves and the cattle they raised.” Thankfully, the truth about the feud between the Coolidges and Carvers could be cleared up once and for all. She felt terrible that her ancestors had run that family out of town. People could learn a thing or two from bees. It takes a colony to survive. If people would work together, life would be simpler.
Eden picked up a warm scone and slathered it with butter, then cut off a piece of honeycomb. She stared at it skeptically before she took a bite.
Abby watched for her reaction. Most people didn’t know you could eat honeycomb in its natural state. When Eden’s eyes rolled back and a smile spread across her face, she knew she had another convert.
“I’ll send some home with you. Just make sure the little guy doesn’t get into it until next year. Their little digestive systems can’t handle the natural bacteria, but yours can.”
“Oh my God. This is almost as good as sex.”
Abby raised a brow. “I wouldn’t tell Thomas that. He’d probably be heartbroken that he could be replaced by a bee.”
“Never, he’s irreplaceable. Speaking of men, I saw a new guy in the diner this morning. Looks like a cowboy, and I thought maybe he was going to work on the Dawsons’ ranch. Do you know who that can be? Do you like cowboys?”
“I’m not particular.” She shook her head. “What I mean is at my age you can’t be all that picky.”
Eden sipped her tea and looked over the rim. “Your age? Puhlease. You’re young, and beautiful, and have so much to offer. You should come into town more often. Maybe Mr. Cowboy is the one.”
Just then, her tabby cat decided to make himself known, which was odd, because Mr. Whiskers never bothered with guests before. Then again, Abby didn’t get many.
“Aw, I have a similar cat, except Porkchop is more orange.”
“Porkchop?”
Eden rolled her eyes. “I know, it’s a silly name, but I didn’t give it to her, an old woman in the building did. I ended up with the cat because until I came to Aspen Cove, I had a hard time saying no.”
“And you learned that word here?”
“Yes, I learned that I had value, and that I got to choose my life and how it went. It’s funny how we allow the inertia of existence to take us away.”
“Right.” Had Abby allowed that to happen to her? Had her experiences taken away her choices? Nope, she’d taken control and moved back to Aspen Cove. It was her choice to be where she was.
Eden’s hands moved to her breasts. “Oops, lunch just arrived. I need to go. It’s feeding time for Thomas.”
“Big or little Thomas?” Abby found teasing Eden fun because she turned the color of a bee sting when she got embarrassed. Nice that she still had the innocence to blush given what she’d gone through.
“Both.” She pushed back her chair and reached for her plate.
“I’ll get that.” Abby walked into the pantry and grabbed a few items for Eden to take home. “Here’s some honeycomb. Make sure you eat it with something because the wax can upset your tummy if you ingest too much. Crackers and goat cheese are another option or toss bits on a salad with walnuts and cranberries.” She grabbed a bag from under the sink and set the box of honeycomb inside. “I’m putting honey, lotion, and a candle in here too.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I want to.”
Eden pulled Abby in for a hug. She was a petite woman, but Abby was small too. Most people took her for a teen until they looked closely and saw the heartbreak she wore like a war wound etched into the corners of her eyes.
“I’m so glad we had this time to get to know each other.” Eden walked to the door with her bag of goodies. “You know, I was nervous coming here because I’d heard you used to like my husband. Thanks for not making it weird.”
Abby walked her onto the porch. “Your husband is exactly where he should be, and that’s with you.” She knew it in her heart. Eden was too sweet to not have Thomas. On the few times she’d met him, she’d picked up on a bitterness about life. She recognized it because she saw it in herself. They would have been two peas living in the same miserable pod.
Eden was different. She didn’t let life drag her down. Months ago, the town was abuzz when they found out she was a surrogate for her sister, Suzanne. At the eleventh hour, she was told her sister didn’t want the baby. And as soon as Eden decided to keep little Tommy, Suzanne had sued her for custody. Why was it people wanted things more when they were told they couldn’t have them?
“Can we do this again?” Eden trotted down the steps toward her car.
“Absolutely. Next time I’ll bring out my homemade jam.”
Eden rubbed her stomach. “I’m all in for the jam.”
Abby watched as Eden drove away. As soon as the dust settled, she hiked up to the family gravesite. It was another thing she did on the first day of spring. She sat with her ancestors and told them about the things they’d missed.
Inside the wrought iron fence were dozens of graves lined up two by two. Her great-great-grandparents all the way down to her parents were buried there.
“Still single. Not looking.” She picked a few weeds
that sprouted from Walt’s grave. “How did you get two women when I can’t even find one man?” Even in death, they lay side by side. In life she was alone. Looking to the right of the graves, she picked out her plot. It was the only section where a single grave would fit. She lived alone and would die alone.
Thank you for reading.
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Need More Small Town Romance?
An Aspen Cove Romance Series
One Hundred Reasons
One Hundred Heartbeats
One Hundred Wishes
One Hundred Promises
One Hundred Excuses
One Hundred Christmas Kisses
One Hundred Lifetimes
One Hundred Ways
One Hundred Goodbyes
One Hundred Secrets
One Hundred Regrets
To see more Kelly Collins’ books click here.
About the Author
International bestselling author of more than thirty novels, Kelly Collins writes with the intention of keeping the love alive. Always a romantic, she blends real-life events with her vivid imagination to create characters and stories that lovers of contemporary romance, new adult, and romantic suspense will return to again and again.
One Hundred Secrets (An Aspen Cove Romance Book 10) Page 18