Her eyes flew open and she put up her hand.
Suddenly, Grace appeared out of nowhere. She put her arm around Sarah’s waist and yanked her back upright. “Hi, Blake! Any questions?”
Blake, who’d been focused on the map, now looked suspiciously from Grace to Sarah and then back. After a moment, he shrugged and asked about the parking situation. He and Grace talked while Sarah stared. I should kiss him, she told herself.
Her good side said no. What if he doesn’t kiss me back? I’ll look like a fool.
Her bad side laughed. You can’t look like more of a fool than you already do. Go ahead! Do it!
Her bad side had a point. A kiss. Just one and—
“Don’t you think, Sarah?” Grace asked. She and Blake were now looking at Sarah.
She nodded.
“Good.” Blake handed the clipboard to Grace. “I think we’ve got you covered. I can call in some of the reserve deputies if we need them. I’ll make sure there will be two of us available at all times. I’ll keep one on standby too, in case the crowd is bigger than expected.”
“Reserve deputies?” Grace asked.
He smiled and said drily, “They’re retired officers and are service volunteers. There won’t be a cost to the town.”
“Sorry. We’re on a shoestring budget and I promised Mayor Moore I’d keep it that way.”
“I understand.” He glanced at the park. “From what I’m hearing, it’s going to be a good event.”
“Sarah was just saying that same thing, weren’t you, Sarah?” Grace pinched Sarah’s arm.
“Ouch! I mean, yes. You’re great. You and the deputies, I mean. All of you—” She nodded. “Thank you. You’re wonderf—”
“We’ve got to go.” Grace backed up, pulling Sarah with her. “Thanks, Blake. Sarah and I have a meeting, or we’d stay and talk. I’ll let you know if the plan changes in any way.”
And with that, they left. Or rather Grace left, pulling an unresisting Sarah with her.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Grace hissed, “What in the heck was that?”
“I told you I wasn’t ready.”
“That’s the understatement of the year. You were paralyzed.”
“I managed to talk. A little.”
Grace sent her a frustrated glance. “Did you make sense?”
“Now you’re getting picky. I just didn’t—”
Blake’s patrol car rolled past, and Sarah stopped walking and watched it disappear down the street.
Grace stood with her. “I saw you leaning toward him, teetering like a Jenga tower. I was afraid I wouldn’t reach you before you fell on top of him.”
Sarah’s face grew hot. “I was never in danger of falling.”
Grace raised her brows.
“Okay, fine,” Sarah muttered. “I was a little unstable. Do you think he noticed?” She threw up a hand. “No. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”
Grace slanted her a regretful look. “Why aren’t your books helping you with this? Isn’t that what they’re there for?”
She lifted a shoulder. “You don’t tell books what to do. They tell you.”
“They sound bossy.”
“If you only knew.” Sarah scrunched her nose. “Maybe one day I’ll find a book that will help, but I’ve searched, and none of them seem to have a clue.”
“When you do, let me know.” Grace shook her head. “That didn’t work out at all the way I thought it would. I shouldn’t have pressed you to talk to him.”
“I told you that.”
“I know, I know. I thought that if you had to talk to him just once, it would break the ice and you wouldn’t have to keep avoiding him. I didn’t realize that in facing him, you might also jump his bones.”
“In broad daylight, too,” Sarah said miserably.
“And on Main Street.”
Sarah pressed her hands to her temples and moaned. “I’m horrible. Whenever I see him, I just lose it.”
Grace sighed. “That one was on me. What can I do to make it up to you? How about a piece of pie from the Moonlight?”
“Pie always helps.” Sarah rubbed her face and then dropped her hands. “He’s my one weakness. Well, that and worrying about whether or not our town is going to make it.”
Grace’s expression softened. “I’ve never seen anyone care about a place the way you care about Dove Pond.”
Sarah looked at Grace. “You like it here, don’t you?”
Grace gazed down the street, taking in the sun-splashed sidewalks and the faded awnings. “I do.” She sounded surprised.
“It sneaks up on you. I hope your plans help us. No, wait. I don’t hope. I know they will.”
“They’re not just my plans. The whole committee has pitched in and is doing a heck of a lot of work. They’ve been phenomenal. All of you have been.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve been a great leader.”
Grace smiled. “I’ll tell you a secret. I’ve never been completely in charge of anything before.”
“What?”
“When I worked in Charlotte, I was a member of a very large group.”
“Yeah, but you had to be in charge of something. Surely you were the boss of some sort of project.”
“Nope. I did my thing, which was straight analysis, a sort of numbers crunching, and I turned it in. And then I did it again. And again. And again.”
“Sounds sort of boring.”
“It was, but what’s weird is that I didn’t realize it. But now . . .” Grace tilted her head to one side. “Now I wonder how I’ll ever go back.”
“You’re supposed to stay here,” Sarah said firmly. “Dove Pond needs you. We need you.”
“I would if I could, but I barely make enough to pay my bills as it is. When the year is up, I’m going back to Charlotte to make some real money.” Grace caught the disappointment on Sarah’s face and she added, “Look, I have to take care of Daisy’s future.”
“I know. How is she doing?”
Grace brightened. “So, so well. She loves her jobs, as I’m sure you know.”
“She’s a great help in the library. I’m not sure how I got along without her.” Sarah smiled. “She’s always welcome there. You know that.”
Grace returned the smile. “I do. I can’t thank you all enough for what you’re doing for her.”
“Pssht. You’d do the same for any of us. But enough of that. Did you say something about pie?”
“I did and I’m buying.”
“Good, because I left my wallet in your car this morning.” Sarah slipped her arm through Grace’s and together they walked toward the café, the sunshine warm, the flowers nodding along. “Just so you know, I’m not giving up on you, Grace Wheeler. What Dove Pond wants, Dove Pond gets.”
CHAPTER 17
Trav
The rain pattered down, running in sheets off the roof and shaking the shrubs as if trying to dislodge loose apples. Wearing a T-shirt, gym shorts, and sneakers, Trav eyed his weights and tried to find the energy to work out but couldn’t. He’d managed only two hours of sleep tonight. Two lousy, unrestful hours. He was so tired that just hearing his own breath irritated him.
He might as well work out. What else did he have to do? He’d just reached the bench when the porch light flipped on next door.
Surprised, he looked at the clock on the shelf over his dad’s workbench. One thirty-five. Odd to see the lights on at this time. He went to the garage door opening and watched.
Mrs. Giano stood on the porch, her tiny form lost in a huge, flowered housecoat. She shuffled to the top step and, one hand on the porch rail, the other clutching her robe tie, she looked out at the yard, peering into the rainy night as if looking for something.
“Don’t,” Trav muttered under his breath. “Go back inside.” When Dad’s illness had progressed, he’d grown confused about night and day, waking at odd hours and thinking it was time to get up. At first, Trav would attempt to put Dad back to bed, but it had irked the
old man so much that Trav had quit trying. Eventually, whenever Dad would get up, thinking it was morning, Trav would accept it, escort him to the kitchen, and fix them both a big breakfast.
God, how Trav missed those breakfasts in the middle of the night. Even now, they seemed like some of the most peaceful times he’d ever had, even before he’d gone to war.
Mrs. Giano leaned over the step, swaying uneasily. “Here, Theo!” she called.
She’s looking for Killer. The cat hadn’t come home this evening, which wasn’t unusual, considering the rain. The animal was probably bedded down somewhere dry and safe.
“Theo!” Her voice, thin and reedy, was barely audible over the rush of the rain.
Trav looked up at the window where Grace’s bedroom was. He was slightly annoyed that he knew which room was hers. One night, completely by accident, he’d seen her closing the shade. She’d been dressed in a pink nightgown, clearly ready for bed, so it took almost no deduction to know where she slept. And right now, her room was dark.
Mrs. Giano wobbled down the steps, gripping the railing as if she were trying to keep her footing on a swaying ship. She blinked up at the rain but it didn’t stop her.
“Theo!” she called, clutching her housecoat tighter.
Trav must have made a noise, for she turned his way and, after a second’s hesitation, began to shuffle toward him.
The rain increased, the pitter-pat turning into a faint rumble. He could see her nightgown getting darker and wetter by the second, her curly white hair lying flat against her head.
Damn it. He strode to one side of the garage, shook out a small blue tarp, and, holding it over his head, went to meet her.
She’d just crossed through the gate into his yard when he reached her. He held the tarp over her. “Mama G, it’s a little late for a walk.”
“Late?” She moved from under the tarp and stared up at the sky, squinting into the rain, blinking as tiny drops hit her face.
He moved the tarp back over her. “Let’s go home. Grace will know where Theo is.”
The sharp tick tick of the rain told him it was coming down even harder now. He noticed that Mama G’s fluffy slippers were soaked and bedraggled. He winced, thinking of how cold the water must be.
“I can’t ask Grace,” Mama G said, looking astonished at the suggestion. “She’s taking a nap.”
“I bet Theo is in your house, hiding somewhere. I think I saw him go in there.”
“You did? Maybe I missed him. We’ll look again.” She patted his arm, smiling pleasantly as if she weren’t standing under a tarp in the middle of the night in the rain. “We can have some tea once we find him.”
“Sure.” He escorted her to her house. When they got there, he threw the wet tarp over the porch railing and followed her through the open door. He didn’t dare leave her alone, or she’d wander back outside.
“Theo?” she called, drifting here and there, looking under pillows and in other improbable places.
Trav wiped his feet on the mat and then took a step inside, and there he stood, blocking the door, unsure what to do next. If he yelled for Grace, it would upset Mama G and wake Daisy. Maybe he should text? That was an idea. He’d just pulled his phone from his pocket when Grace appeared on the stairs.
She was dressed in a long silky green sleep shirt, her hair sleep-mussed, faint circles under her eyes.
He’d never seen anyone look so beautiful.
Grace saw him, eyes widening. “What—”
He nodded toward Mama G, who was just now coming out of the sitting room.
“Mama G? How did you get so wet?” Grace hurried down the final steps.
“I’ve been looking for Theo. He shouldn’t be out in this weather.”
“We’ll find him. Here. Take off that wet housecoat.” Grace helped Mama G. “You’re shivering. Let’s get you into a dry nightgown and back to bed.”
“I can’t. Theo is outside and it’s raining. I thought he might be in here, but he’s not.” Mama G’s face creased with worry. “I can’t leave him in the rain. I’ll go find him—” She headed back to the door.
Trav stayed where he was, blocking the way.
Grace caught Mama G’s arm. “Wait! It’s too cold and wet to go outside.”
Mama G pulled free, her face tight with irritation. “I’m going to find Theo and bring him home.”
“He’s at my house,” Trav lied.
Both women looked at him.
Mama G regarded him suspiciously. “What’s he doing at your house?”
“Sometimes he likes to sleep on the blankets in the corner of my garage. I was working out when he came over, so he settled in.” He shrugged. “You know how cats are when it rains. They find a cozy corner, curl up in it, and stay.”
Grace nodded. “If he’s sleeping, we should leave him alone.”
“He’d hate being out in this rain, too.” Trav closed the door and then went to one of the windows off the porch and opened it a little. “There. Once it stops raining, Theo will come back home. If you leave your bedroom door open, he’ll find you.”
“You think he’ll come?” Mama G didn’t look convinced.
“I know he will. He’s a good cat.”
“He is a good cat.” Mama G’s brow relaxed, and she said to Grace, “Theo likes to sleep on my bed. He keeps my feet warm.”
He used to do the same thing for Dad. “Cats are good for that,” Trav said.
“I— Goodness!” Mama G shivered and crossed her arms. “How did these slippers get so wet?”
“Oh dear. We should get you out of those, shouldn’t we? Let’s go find your other pair.” Grace slipped her arm through Mama G’s and guided her to the stairs.
As they went up, Grace sent Trav a quick, fleeting smile. “Would you mind waiting for a moment? I’ll be right back.”
He’d wait longer than a moment. If she asked, he’d wait a lifetime.
The thought shocked him.
He didn’t know this woman, not really.
And yet, at this very minute, with one look, he knew everything she was feeling. She was worried and anxious, sad and relieved, all at once. Her feet were cold, but she didn’t care, and she was embarrassed to have been seen without her robe.
He didn’t know how he knew all of that, or why he was so sure. He just was.
They disappeared up the stairs, Mama G saying in a peevish voice, “I need to put a pillow on the bed for Theo.”
“Of course. He’ll like that.”
Grace returned some time later, this time wrapped in a robe, her hair brushed and clipped up. She looked every bit as sexy as she had before, and he realized it wasn’t what she wore. It was just her.
She stopped in front of him. “I just wanted to thank you. If she’d gotten lost in this weather—” She shook her head.
“I know. Dad used to wander, too.”
“How did you keep him in?” She sent a worried look at the door. “I don’t know how she does it, but she’s getting out.”
He went to examine the bolt. “She’d have to use a chair to reach that.” He looked around. “It doesn’t look like anything has been moved.”
“I don’t think she could move a chair. She’s gotten weaker over the past few months.” Grace tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s frustrating.”
“I bet so. Here. I’ll bolt the door for you now. If she tries to get out, we’ll hear her.”
Grace flashed him a grateful look. “Do you mind? She’s gotten tricky.”
He smiled. “It’s like taking care of the world’s fussiest and smartest toddler, isn’t it?” He bolted the door and turned to find her watching him.
“I know it’s late, but I’m going to make some tea for Mama G and myself. Would you like some, too?”
He didn’t drink tea. He never had. “I’d like that.” And he followed her into the kitchen.
He leaned against the counter as she pulled two tins from a cupboard and set them on the table. Then she fi
lled three mugs with water, put them in the microwave, and turned it on.
“That should do it.” She stood by the counter as the water heated. “Have a seat.”
He sat in a chair by the table.
The microwave dinged and she pulled out the mugs, put them on a small tray, and carried them to the table. Then she opened a tin and dropped tea bags into two of the mugs.
The smell of the tea made him think of his mom. “Earl Grey.”
She smiled, her brown eyes twinkling. “Impressive. But it’s Lady Grey. It’s not as strong.” She crossed to a drawer near the sink and returned with a spoon and a small metal ball on a chain. She spooned some black tea from the other tin into the ball, snapped it shut, and put it into the last cup, the chain hanging over the side. “That’s for Mama G. It’ll calm her down enough to sleep.”
He picked up the tin. “Ava and her teas. I hear she’s making a fortune with these.”
“That one was a gift, so I’m not sure of the retail value. I asked for the ingredients, and she told me. Doc Bolton said he didn’t think they would hurt Mama G or interfere with her medicine, so I use it. I have to say, it works.” Grace winced. “Some days, I have to fight the urge to give it to her every ten minutes.”
He put the tin back on the table. “The uncertainty can wear you out.”
“Exactly.” She picked up Mama G’s tea. “I’m going to take this upstairs. I’ll be right back.”
He watched her go and wished he could tell her everything would be all right. That if she ever needed help, he could come over and— Do what? Moon around your house like a fool? Stay awake all night and wonder what’s wrong? You don’t need that in your life.
No, she needed someone who could offer real support. Someone stronger and less restless. Someone not me.
The urge to leave overwhelmed him. He stood, but hesitated. It would be rude to just disappear. He should write a note. Something short but nice. He’d just say that he was suddenly tired. He was, although he already knew that going home wouldn’t help that.
“Are you leaving?” She was in the kitchen doorway, obviously surprised to find him standing. “We haven’t had our tea.”
“Right. The tea.” He sat back down. “How’s Mama G?”
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