by Alexa Verde
At the ripe age of nine.
Which might not be super useful when one needed to appeal to a man.
Lord, I need help. Please?
Liberty barged in, right after knocking and before Gwendolyn had a chance to respond. “I heard about your date tonight. And I hope you’re not going looking like that.”
If Gwendolyn didn’t know how outspoken Liberty was, she might’ve gotten offended. “Like what?”
Liberty hustled her to the tall mirror on the wall. “For starters, you have flour on your shirt, I’d guess from making pancakes with the children in the morning. Then there’s some substance on your shoulder I’d rather not identify.”
“Apple purée from feeding the baby.”
Liberty nodded, her single green leaf earring that matched her hair winking in her earlobe. “Right. That’s what I thought this was, too. And on your stomach and on your knee...”
“I see.” Gwendolyn cringed. “This must be from finger painting with the children after lunch. I strictly told them not to finger paint the wall and each other. I should’ve included myself in the list.”
Liberty chuckled, the sound as strong and uninhibited as the woman herself. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for children’s art. But Conner might be a little concerned if you show up like this. Hmm, you even have maroon finger paint on your back between your shoulders! How did that get there?”
“Nehemiah must’ve jumped. Gotta love those kids.”
A grin spread over Liberty’s face. “We all do. Also, we need to do something about your hair.”
Wincing, Gwendolyn couldn’t help sneaking a glance at Liberty’s bright hairdo. “I know it’s a little dull and a little flimsy, but—”
Fingers through her emerald hair, Liberty propped her hip against the oak desk and ignored its squeaky complaint. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to be the one helping you. My idea of dressing you up would be cutting your hair short, coloring it green”—Liberty winked when Gwendolyn winced again—“and putting you in jeans and cowboy boots. I’m going to ask my sister.”
A whoosh of relief left Gwendolyn’s lungs. “Thanks.”
“Jenna lived in Paris for over two decades, and based on those fancy clothes of hers, she learned a thing or two about fashion.”
Gwendolyn’s eyes widened. Learned a thing or two? Tall, slim, and elegant, Jenna could’ve been a model. “Thank you, but I don’t want to interrupt her honeymoon. And, even if she agrees to lend me her fabulous clothes, I won’t be able to squeeze into them. I’m not as slender as she is.” Gwendolyn grimaced. “Or tall, for that matter.”
“Yeah, something must be wrong with her genes.” Liberty cleared her throat. “As my sister-in-law Vera says, there should be a lot of a good person. I’m the proof. That means you are, too. Anyway, don’t worry about the honeymoon. Jenna was gone so long she doesn’t want to leave Mending Hearts for even a short trip. The newlyweds are hanging around here somewhere. As for clothes, Jenna knows how to sew.”
Hope fluttered inside Gwendolyn. But she was too used to her expectations not coming through. “Maybe we should ask her first if she can help during her honeymoon?”
Liberty stared at her, then left the desk. It squeaked again, this time in gratitude. “Consider it done. Hmm, Vera’s grandmother is good with coloring hair. She does it all the time when she’s in too much of a hurry to go to the hairdresser.”
Gwendolyn had seen her friend’s grandmother. “She has blue hair!” She suddenly started to like her dull and flimsy hair.
Liberty beamed. “Yes, she’s a one and only. Oh, and Vera’s grandma has an old sewing machine, too. It still works. I can get fabric.”
When Jenna joined them, Gwendolyn trudged after Liberty to the living room, marveling at the sisters’ relationship, even after decades of them not seeing each other. They’d picked up as if they’d only been apart for a summer vacation.
How would it feel to have camaraderie and friendship like that with her sibling? Gwendolyn’s rib cage constricted. After they’d grown up apart thanks to their parents’ agreement, she had tried to establish contact with Vanessa through their mother. But dear Mom always found excuses not to pass on the message until Gwendolyn gave up.
Once best friends, the sisters hadn’t spoken to each other in too long. Maybe it was time to try to make contact again.
Then her rib cage squeezed even tighter, guilt reminding her about the older navy-blue sedan and the strange calls. She needed to look into her father’s murder instead of having Vera do the whole job, and what was she doing? Going on a date with a handsome guy again. Déjà vu, anyone?
Gwendolyn sighed. “Maybe I shouldn’t go.”
Liberty stopped abruptly, and Gwendolyn bumped into her. “Oh no, you’re going all right. Otherwise, I’ll drag you to the restaurant. I’m not above calling Danica for reinforcement, either. Dara just might nudge you in the back with her nose, too.”
Gwendolyn couldn’t help chuckling.
Soon, Gwendolyn was in a chair getting highlights while the sisters paraded in and out of Jenna’s childhood room with different outfits.
Liberty raised an eyebrow at the leopard-print jacket in Jenna’s hands. “Isn’t that going to look trashy?”
Gwendolyn winced again. She was doing a lot of wincing lately.
“No.” Jenna shook her head. “I’m going to add decorations to make it look stylish. And it’s going to be a short coat with a nice belt.”
Gwendolyn released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, then looked in the mirror. “Um, what color are the highlights going to be?”
“Blonde.” The older woman’s hand stopped midair. “Unless you want to be more adventurous and color your hair black with orange highlights. You’ll look like a tiger.”
As if looking like a leopard wasn’t bad enough!
“Blonde is good,” Gwendolyn said quickly.
Jenna studied her while the highlights were drying out. “If I may suggest, it’s not just about the clothes, makeup, and hair.”
Liberty sliced her hand in the air. “Right. It’s also about the boots, and I’m still suggesting cowboy ones.”
Jenna’s lips widened in a way men probably found enigmatic. “Yes, footwear is important. As well as accessories. But not nearly as much as inner confidence, the way a woman carries herself, her posture.”
Well, some people like Jenna seemed to be born with a regal posture and stately confidence. Gwendolyn searched for her inner confidence, but she’d seemed to leave it behind during one of those far-too-many moves.
Jenna snapped her long fingers. “Let’s teach you to walk. A book might be helpful.”
“A book?” Gwendolyn nearly groaned. “I don’t have time to read right now.” Though she did love reading. Books were her friends back when they’d moved constantly for her father’s job and she hadn’t had time to make human ones.
Jenna gestured to her head with its short black hairdo and those impossibly long bangs that fell on her electric-blue eyes, a striking combination. “I meant to put a book on your head while you walk.”
Right. Gwendolyn was probably slouching too much.
Wishing Jenna didn’t have to see those far-from-slim measurements, Gwendolyn tried not to squirm as the sisters measured her, then started working on the outfits. Huh, both women acted as if those were just numbers.
Maybe they were.
“Being stylish is ninety percent confidence. Knowing how to combine colors and patterns wouldn’t hurt, either.” Jenna cut the jacket, matching up the print as she pinned in excess fabric cut from its length to widen it. Then she added trim at the bottom and cuffs from a different fabric. “For example, if you combine animal prints and floral prints, the outfit is going to be too busy. Or if you combine green and red, you’re going to look like a traffic light.”
Liberty, who was sewing the pants, lifted her head. “Hmm. I have green hair, and I love my magenta jeans. You didn’t say anything.”
Jenna cleared her throat while her utter attention remained on the jacket. “Wellll... You have your own style.”
Liberty grinned. “That I do.”
“Let’s talk about the gait.” Jenna started sewing cut pieces together. “It’s important to keep your back straight, shoulders back, stomach in, and flow smoothly. Look forward, not into the ground. In old times, women carried jugs with water on their heads. Their gaits were perfect, or they’d take an involuntary shower. These times, some women walk like they’re trying to hammer nails into the floor with their feet.”
Gwendolyn took mental notes.
“Huh.” Liberty flicked hair away from her eyes. “That’s the way I walk. I need to practice. We don’t have large water jugs, but I made a three-cheese casserole this morning.”
As she cut the thread, Jenna winked at Gwendolyn. “We might be left without dinner tonight.”
“I heard that.” Liberty laughed. “And by the way, I’m fine with combining red and green. I am who I am, and I’m fabulous. I prefer to stay true to myself, march to the beat of my own drum.”
Gwendolyn stilled as the words solidified something inside her. For most of her life, she’d marched to the beat of her father’s song, out of guilt and maybe out of convenience. What was her own song? Had it even been written yet?
“I agree. Forget all I said and stay true to yourself. After all, everyone pays attention to the traffic light.” Jenna nudged her sister in her shoulder.
“That’s right.” Liberty raised her chin and nudged Jenna back, but her sister barely remained standing.
Gwendolyn chuckled, but envy stung deeply. Even when Jenna and Liberty were bantering, their love for each other shone through.
Gwendolyn felt a strong urge to talk to Vanessa, not just sometime in the future but as soon as possible.
While Jenna styled Gwendolyn’s hair, Gwendolyn’s thoughts drifted away.
When she was growing up, her father’s profession sounded so romantic. So noble. He’d put his life at risk to help other people. He was truly her hero.
Maybe it was the type of assignments she’d been getting, but she’d found out her job didn’t just include guarding people’s bodies, though there was that, true to the moniker. She’d guarded their secrets, too.
Most of the time, those were rather innocent. But sometimes, there were reasons they needed protection, reasons that didn’t sit well with her conscience.
Welching on a gambling debt.
Taking advantage of a business partner.
Conducting unethical professional dealings.
And often those reasons weren’t disclosed until after she’d signed a contract.
She’d learned the hard way to have an extensive talk with her future clients and do her research before taking on new assignments. Not only because she didn’t want to twist her conscience, but also because, to protect them properly, she needed to know as much as possible about potential threats, just like a doctor needed to know about his patients’ symptoms to treat them. Even the details they weren’t comfortable disclosing.
But unlike a doctor who could help people heal or at least treat their pain, she couldn’t help her clients with their damaged consciences, friendships, or reputations.
Eventually, being a guardian of people’s dirty secrets had worn her out. She’d applied for a job with a security company to protect buildings instead of people and stayed there until her contract expired. It felt like a betrayal of her father’s legacy, but it gave her a necessary respite.
She’d only come back as a bodyguard because Vera asked for her help.
“Oh, I almost forgot. There was an envelope for you in the mail.” Liberty left and returned with a white envelope.
No return address. Huh. Gwendolyn hesitated before opening it. But she’d forwarded her mail to this address for the time being, and she’d received a few Christmas cards.
This wasn’t a classic business-sized envelope. Another Christmas card, arriving a little late?
She opened it, and her heart went cold. It was a photo of her father’s favorite football team. What on earth?
Lord, is this a sign from You?
Or from my father?
And if not, what is this?
Chapter Thirteen
Conner stared at the woman who entered the restaurant door, and his jaw slackened. Surely, that couldn’t be the shy woman he’d asked out.
Based on how male heads turned in her direction, he wasn’t the only one mesmerized.
Gwendolyn wore a stylish leopard-print coat that suited her somehow, paired with a wide white belt and gloves and boots that softened the effect. Dressy slacks of his favorite caramel macchiato color hugged her apparently shapely legs and matched the silk scarf tied into an elaborate knot on her neck.
Soft makeup accentuated generous lashes and hazel eyes that looked bigger now, and sun-kissed highlights gave her new curls playfulness. Happily, though, makeup didn’t cover up those freckles that added the touch of girlish innocence.
The bright shine in her eyes attracted him most of all. He couldn’t look away.
He was used to being surrounded by priceless works of art, and she was one of them. He’d suspected it before, and now, he knew for sure.
His heart shifted at the reminder of the little time they had left together. Most likely, not enough for them both to open their hearts to love again.
“Miss Gwendolyn!” Daisy rushed to Gwendolyn and hugged her legs.
He froze. His daughter didn’t take a shine to people easily, much less display her attention publicly. But she’d gotten attached to Gwendolyn already. When Conner and Daisy left Cowboy Crossing, they might both be leaving their hearts behind. A frown accompanied his tightening jaw.
Not telling Gwendolyn from the start who he was also twisted up his conscience now. She’d given him a chance for a fresh start, but would she ever fully trust him again?
“Hello there, sweetie. Don’t you look lovely tonight?” She hugged his daughter.
Daisy didn’t say anything, just returned to her seat. Sometimes people took offense at his daughter’s lack of response and considered her rude. But Gwendolyn didn’t seem bothered.
As Gwendolyn sauntered toward him, those elegant over-the-knee white boots clicking against the tile, he managed to pick his jaw up from the floor. “You look... stunning.”
She smiled. Even her smile looked different now, more mysterious and inviting all at once. “You look... surprised.”
He should’ve stopped gawking sooner. He pulled out a chair for her, remembering his manners.
“Thank you, but I’d like to sit near the wall, please.” She gestured to a different chair.
“Okay.” He pulled that one out. Even though she wasn’t a bodyguard on duty, the habits obviously stayed, and he winced at the reminder of her dangerous profession. His heart wouldn’t survive losing the woman he loved a second time.
His stepsister’s electric-blue eyes—just like Jenna’s—filled with tears appeared in his mind, and guilt overwhelmed him again as when he’d been a teen. He’d lost too many people not to build a wall around his heart.
Yet he had a strange urge to run his fingers through Gwendolyn’s teasing hair that must be soft to the touch. Go figure.
As he took off her coat, revealing an alabaster-white sweater with a long necklace of amber that matched her eyes perfectly, its three layers of beads gleaming, he leaned into her. She smelled differently, too, some new fleeting, delicate perfume that made him want to breathe her in and hold on for a while. He couldn’t explain why, the same way he couldn’t—didn’t want to—explain the flutter of his heart.
She slid off her white gloves, revealing a fresh pink polish that matched her lipstick. Then she smiled at Daisy. “I’ve got a present for you.” She wriggled a fluffy toy kitten from her purse.
Daisy’s eyes widened. For a moment, she stared. Then she hugged the kitten. “Wow. It’s so cute! Thank you.”
“You’re wel
come. And you’re the cute one.” Gwendolyn pressed playfully on Daisy’s upturned nose.
His heart leaped into his throat. He’d needed so badly to see that sweet smile on his girl’s face. He gave Gwendolyn a grateful glance. “You’re good with children.”
Something unreadable flashed in her eyes. “Thanks. But I have to be. It’s my occupation for now.”
Huh. Gwendolyn and his daughter had something in common. Neither one of them knew how to take a compliment.
Gwendolyn’s gaze darted around the room as if she recorded every detail, stopping at the exit. Surely, she wasn’t contemplating fleeing? She seemed a bit tense, just like in the park. Was she nervous? Or was it a habit of always being on high alert as a bodyguard?
Or... was there a different reason?
His heart sank to the tiled floor. She’d told him about the mysterious calls, messages, and that navy-blue sedan. He couldn’t let something happen to her. Even if they went their separate ways, he needed to know she was okay. Somewhere in the world without him.
After the waitress took their drink orders, he read the menu to his daughter, who as always seemed undecided. On the contrary, he already knew what he wanted.
He wanted to know more about the woman in front of him.
No! He meant barbecue ribs, of course.
He reminded himself about their leaving soon before he could drown in those syrupy eyes. Or was it already too late for that?
The waitress brought their drinks. “Are you ready to order?”
The familiar deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression appeared in Daisy’s eyes, and everything in him softened. During the few times he’d gone out on dates, he’d taken her with him, and his dates weren’t thrilled.
They were even less thrilled when she made those dinners awkward by refusing to order food or asking to go home early. But his daughter was his priority, and he wanted that clear from the start. On all the previous dates, that was where it ended.
At the start.
Well, maybe he wasn’t too enthusiastic about those dates, either. Finding a woman who’d compare to his Annika was...impossible. He glanced at the woman with him. Maybe he never should’ve been looking for someone to compare to Annika. Maybe he should’ve been seeking someone uniquely special like Gwendolyn.