Chapter 32
“Happy reading, Miss Clementine!” Shelby called as the seventysomething widow limped down the stairs with a bagful of thriller
and suspense novels.
“See you next month.”
The retired schoolteacher had arthritis that nearly debilitated her, and she passed the time by reading. Shelby wished the
woman would let her assist her with the stairs, but she was stubborn and independent.
A minute later the bell tinkled at her exit and Shelby approached her bookseller.
Janet (contemporary romance) was arranging books on the Christmas Fiction table. She was in her fifties and had let her beautiful
hair go gray. Her face was so youthful she hardly looked old enough for gray hair—or the readers perched on her head. “I told
Miss Clementine about the to-go cart since it’s so hard for her to get around these days.”
“She likes to browse in person even though walking is painful.”
“Can’t blame her. The sight of new book covers, the smell of books... It’s hard to beat the in-person experience.”
“I’m betting our future on that conviction.” Shelby took in Janet’s sage-green wrap shirt, chic jeans, suede belt, and trendy
boots. “You always look so put together. How do you keep up with the latest styles?”
“TikTok, honey. And Patsy’s Boutique. That woman has excellent taste. I’d moonlight over there just for the employee discount if I didn’t love books so much.”
“Don’t you dare leave me.”
Janet gave Shelby a sideways hug. “Oh, not to worry. Style is an interest, but books are my addiction. You should see my to-be-read
pile—and still I buy more.”
“I’ll happily remain your enabler and your dealer.”
“Can’t say no to that.”
The phone rang and Shelby glanced toward the back where Haley wandered around the store. “Haley, can you get that, please?”
“Okay.” The phone rang two more times before the girl picked it up on the back extension.
Janet offered a smile. “I’ve talked to her about answering the phones and helping customers. It just goes in one ear and out
the other.”
“I don’t think she’s cut out for this.” Understatement of the century. The girl did what she was asked to do, but Shelby didn’t
want to micromanage her booksellers. Then again, her mom had been so grateful when Shelby ran into her at Publix. Maybe just
a bit more coaching. She’d have a little review with the girl and explain her responsibilities more explicitly.
Shelby resumed setting up the Black Friday signs Gray had designed. The big sale was only two days away. They were counting
on a profitable season, and Black Friday would kick it off. All their fiction was discounted, and they’d added sideline items
such as gift bags and cards to make it a one-stop shop for holiday presents.
With all the work she’d been putting into the Christmas season, it was easy to forget about Thanksgiving. She’d texted her
family about her change in plans without admitting to her breakup with Logan. Shelby committed to making a pecan pie and sweet
potato casserole for their family dinner.
She was relieved to escape Thanksgiving with Logan’s family.
His parents were best friends with the Remingtons and hadn’t been thrilled when he began dating her.
After all, she’d once dated the Briggs boy, whom their best friends detested.
And they hadn’t exactly been happy about her recent partnership with Gray.
Small towns . Shelby shook her head.
“You take the good with the bad.” Gram’s voice rang in her head.
Gray was downstairs unboxing today’s shipment of books. Since that night on the boat she’d been careful to keep their relationship
strictly business. And she was trying hard to vanquish the memory of being in his arms. Why was it so darn hard?
“Because you liked it, that’s why.”
Shelby aimed a scowl at the ceiling.
“What are your plans for Thanksgiving?” Janet asked.
“Dad’s having Caleb, Liddy, Ollie, and me over for dinner. He’s handling the turkey and the rest of us are pitching in. How
about you?”
“Charlie’s family is coming in from Greensboro.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Mama Lucille loves to cook, so it’s a wonderful thing. All I have to do is set the table and buy some pretty flowers.”
“Sounds like a good deal.” What was Gray doing for Thanksgiving? He hadn’t mentioned any plans. Was that because he didn’t
have any? The thought put a pinch in her chest.
The shop was closed for the holiday, of course. Other than his dad, he had no family. Gray might’ve been invited to dinner
by his boss or one of his coworkers. Three hours wasn’t too long a drive, but she couldn’t see Gray going all that way.
She couldn’t stand the thought of him sitting home alone, heating a can of soup or something. Maybe he could actually cook,
but even so, no one should have to eat Thanksgiving dinner alone.
She’d inquire about his plans just to make sure. If he wasn’t going anywhere, she’d invite him to join her family. That wouldn’t go over well with Dad or Caleb. But surely they wouldn’t be all right with anyone—even Gray Briggs—spending Thanksgiving alone.
Sounds in the Mystery section alerted her that Haley was off the phone and back to rearranging books. Shelby sighed. “Haley,
how are you with chalk? We have a standing sidewalk easel for Black Friday, but I haven’t done the wording yet.”
The girl pushed back a strand of brown hair that had escaped her messy bun. “I’m good with lettering.”
“Perfect. The easel and chalk pens are down in the office, and Gray has the flyer with all the info. Why don’t you take it
out back and work on it?”
“Okay.”
Shelby hoped the girl didn’t make a mess of it. But at least she’d be doing something productive.
“I sure do like all the changes I’m seeing around here.” Janet had moved on to the locally made necklaces. “Your gram would
be so proud of you.”
“I’m not so sure. She wasn’t fond of change.”
“Businesses have to adapt.” She winked. “And that’s exactly what you’re doing. Ooh, this one’s pretty.” Janet held up a layered
necklace with silver and rose gold chains, then set it aside. “I do believe it’s going home with me. I admit I had my doubts
about Gray at first. I didn’t know him when he lived here before, but I knew of his reputation. Honestly, he’s nothing like
I expected him to be.”
“He’s a good guy—and very smart when it comes to running a business.”
“Well, so are you, honey. In fact, I think the two of you make a great team.” A teasing gleam lit the woman’s brown eyes.
Shelby leveled her with a rueful look. “It’s not like that.”
“What? I didn’t say a word.”
“You didn’t have to. I prefer men who live right here in town.” And men who didn’t up and leave her without notice.
Janet threw her hands up, palms out. “I’m just a woman happily married for thirty-four years. What do I know?”
“You’re married to a prince. Charlie would keep you in all the books and stylish clothing you wanted even if you chose not
to work.”
“Well, that’s true enough. But I’m too much of a people person to hang around the house all day. And don’t think I didn’t
notice what you just did there.”
Shelby blinked. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Change the subject all you want, Shelby Thatcher, but I know chemistry when I see it, and, girl—”
The phone pealed.
Shelby gave her a big grin. “Oh, shoot. I have to get that.”
Gray carried the easel out back for Haley. It was about half the girl’s size, and it seemed as if her twiglike arms might
snap under its weight.
“Thanks, Mr. Briggs.”
Mr. Briggs. Man, he was getting old. “Welcome.”
He returned to the office. No one had even called his dad Mr. Briggs. It was just Ferris , or more often Briggs. He’d emailed his dad yesterday but hadn’t yet gotten a response. Dad usually only wrote once a week. Gray had no idea what
life inside was like for him. He didn’t talk much about prison life. He shared what he was reading—he had access to a prison
library. He wanted to know all about Gray’s life in Riverbend Gap. Sometimes, not very often, Dad asked for a little money
on his account or for a book, which Gray sent through an online retailer.
For the first time in Gray’s memory, he had access, though limited, to a sober father. He liked this version better. Gray was used to visiting him once a month, but the drive was too far from Grandville unless he made a whole weekend of it. And he hadn’t been able to take that much time away yet.
Dad had been up for parole twice but had been denied both times. Gray had mixed feelings on that. His dad planned to move
to Riverbend Gap when he was released. But Gray feared he might go right back to the bottle. If that was the case, he’d be
better off staying right where he was. But maybe he’d learned a thing or two while he’d been locked up. It was hard to say.
Gray always visited his dad on Thanksgiving and Christmas. It would be weird being away for the holidays. In recent years
one of his bosses or coworkers invited him to their homes. He always accepted—it was the gracious thing to do. But also, who
wanted to be alone for the holidays?
A knock sounded on the doorframe and Shelby peeked in, looking pretty in a red scoop-neck shirt and denim trousers. “How’s
it going down here?”
“Almost finished scanning in the new inventory. The store seemed pretty busy this afternoon.”
“It has been. Did you find the chalk for Haley?”
“Yeah, she’s out back working on the sign.”
“Good.” She shifted in the doorway. Tucked her hair behind her ear, her gaze drifting around the office.
She had something on her mind. He settled back in the chair and regarded her. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking about the upcoming holidays. Thanksgiving. You know, turkey, stuffing, all that.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of it.”
She chuckled awkwardly. “Hard to believe it’s tomorrow, huh?”
“Hard to believe.”
“Dad’s having us over for dinner around one o’clock. Then football, of course. You know, the usual. What about you? What are
your plans?”
Ah, she was worried about him. No way would Shelby Thatcher be all right with anyone being alone on Thanksgiving. And if push came to shove, she’d invite him to join her family—even if it was bound to start World War Ι Ι Ι .
“Patrick invited me over for supper.” It was true, sort of.
And well worth the fib when Shelby practically sagged with relief. “ Patrick. That’s great. That’ll be fun. I hear he’s a great cook—Melanie Phillips used to date him and she raved about his skills in
the kitchen. Do you cook much?”
That was the most words she’d said since the boating fiasco. “I’m good for the basics, but that’s about it.”
“Well, you’ll be in great hands with Patrick.” The bell out front tinkled. She glanced over her shoulder, then back, offering
him a smile. “I should get back upstairs.”
As she slipped away, a lonely feeling swept over Gray. He hadn’t been able to find a restaurant open for the holiday, so he
planned on a turkey sandwich, semi-fresh from the deli, and a generous slice of the pumpkin pie he’d already bought from the
bakery. Close enough.