Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The atmosphere on the Triple M was tense.
Hannah stayed close to home, placing dried plants into containers, making more plantain salve, and finalizing their podcast’s educational video package under a watchful Neil.
If she jumped when a door slammed or someone came up behind her, she told herself it was a natural reaction and sniffed more lavender and drank lemon balm tea.
She saw a few more cowboys with minor injuries, and Reba brought up her prize-winning blueberry pie to thank her and check on her.
They’d had the chance to have a good visit, and when Reba had kissed her cheek and said in her usual matter-of-fact way that everyone thought it was a blessing she was back, her heart had warmed enough to shake off the recent unpleasantness keeping her awake at night.
Her call to her father had been short and curt. His I’m glad you weren’t hurt had sounded stiff, and he’d ended it quickly before she could ask for news of how her mother was faring.
Ben invited her to have dinner at the main house and to watch one of Cooper’s favorite movies afterward, but they didn’t have a moment alone with him lying down with Cooper to help him go to sleep.
When Jolene called to see how she was and suggested she come to Stitch & Bitch since her friend was hosting, she happily agreed.
Good to get out of the house and her mind off things.
Except when she arrived at the Prentice house, no one wanted to talk about anything but the events on the Triple M on Sunday.
Wanda Akins, who ran Wanda’s Western Wear, had plunked down on the sofa the moment she’d sat down. Wearing an eye-catching black denim dress with heart snaps up the front, Wanda didn’t dish out comfort. She dished out gossip—which her daughter, Paisley, had told Cooper before, she well recalled.
“You must have been terrified,” Wanda practically wailed. “Just how drunk was Amber? I mean, was she high on drugs too like I’ve heard talk?”
She only shrugged noncommittally and took a drink of the huckleberry margarita Jolene had stuck in her hand the moment she’d met her at the door.
Mae Hawkins from the Jams and Gems Gift Shop had been a little sweeter, but then again, Hannah had known Reba’s daughter growing up.
She had a new store, famous for its preserves and other bits and bobs.
“You were brave, Hannah, so brave that I’m giving you a jar of my special bourbon huckleberry jam before you leave. I heard Amber threatened to kill you!”
To this line, she weakly nodded, thanked the woman for the jam, and took another drink.
The other questions came in a blur from the women buzzing around her, practically a who’s who of female business owners in Sanctuary Springs.
And boy, were there a lot of them, a legacy of Grandma Elena giving loans to women who started businesses back in the Old West days, a fund which continued now.
While the men ranched, strong women had always run this town.
Hannah liked the idea of joining their ranks and, in some ways, running her own herbal practice, so she didn’t try to change the subject.
Getting to know these women, some of whom were new to her, seemed the better approach.
Tallulah Barker, who ran Dusty Mugs Country Store and Antiques, talked as quietly as a librarian, while Gertie Frazier of Pioneer Pantry’s booming voice still had the power to make Hannah stop short from drinking her beverage when she’d asked Hannah if anyone had knocked that nasty Owen Kincaid out cold like he deserved.
Gwen Gentry of Needles and Lace responded before she could that no one deserved it more in that prim way of hers.
Ruby Holbrook said Owen should be horsewhipped for the times he’d come into The Next Chapter Bookstore and knocked romance novels off the shelves, saying only lonely women like Ruby read them.
On that, Hannah had to comment. “Lonely women? Shoot that bastard,” she cried out teasingly, making all the women cackle for the first time that night.
Pippa Lockwood of the Root and Shoots Garden Nursery dove into the conversation, saying Amber was so mean she’d made the nursery’s plants wilt when she’d gone by.
Hannah couldn’t stop laughing after that.
Velma Nichols of the town’s single microbrewery and liquor store, Brews and Booze, added that the fancy French champagne she kept on for special occasions went flat when Amber or Owen Kincaid’s name was spoken in her store.
By then, Hannah was nodding and laughing along with the rest of the women. She could have used these women growing up, when Amber and her brother picked on her.
Savannah Anderson of Laughing Leaves Landscaping added to the booming laughter that her plantings wouldn’t grow on the Kincaid property because the ground was as toxic as those two miscreants.
Hearing anyone called miscreants had sent the women into more gales, and Hannah hadn’t thought much of it when Jolene took her empty glass and fitted her hand with another delicious salt-rimmed margarita. Yum. She blew a kiss to her friend.
Dolly Merriweather of Boots and Baubles, who’d been happily named after Dolly Parton and who packed a pretty good singing voice herself, raised her turquoise cowboy boots off the floor and said the Kincaid kids were like the cow patties you stepped on when you weren’t looking.
People cheered their agreement, herself included, as Emmeline Osborn of Satin and Sass laid a dramatic hand to her forehead and said the Kincaid children were the kind to send people asking for their smelling salts back in the day.
Then everyone had pretty much wheezed with laughter when Scout Robbins of the Bake My Day Café had said she used a fresh plate of chopped onions to revive anyone who fainted in her establishment when those two “miscreants” came by for a donut.
“I need to make a keep-away roller ball with onions,” Hannah declared, thrusting out her drink. “That’ll keep those ‘miscreants’ away.”
The women around her snickered and tittered, and Hannah had to wipe the tears running down her face because she was laughing so hard. Yep. She fit right into Sanctuary Springs, it seemed.
“All right, that’s enough hilarity,” Jolene called out, clapping her hands. “If we don’t pipe down, either Kitty or Dr. Montgomery will call the sheriff on us.”
Hannah took another drink at the mention of her father, while a few people glanced her way like they were wondering about her reaction.
Wanda fanned herself. “I’d love that Logan Delaney to show up. He’s one prime, good-looking man.”
A few of the other single or divorced women agreed. Hannah didn’t remember everyone’s relationship status after being gone seven years, but she planned to.
A loud rapping on the door silenced the room before the women, herself included, started laughing all over again.
“It’s the sheriff!” Scout called out, unbuttoning a button on her blouse. “I’m first, girls. My plan is to say, ‘cuff me, cowboy,’ and see what he replies.”
Gertie slapped Scout’s proffered hands down gently. “If that’s the way you introduce yourself to men these days, sweetie, no wonder you’re alone on Friday night. Now, my Abner…”
“Girls!” Jolene cried out. “Please. I need to get the door.”
Hannah took another sip of her drink as Gertie mimed slamming her lips together. Dolly gave a high-pitched giggle, which Hannah feared was contagious until she saw Jolene walk back in with her mouth pressed tightly together.
“Hannah, can I see you a sec?” her friend asked in a flat tone.
She was so surprised that she pointed at herself before standing and walking over.
Jolene pulled her aside, a worry line between her brows. “I told him it was girls’ night, but he’s insisting on seeing you. If he hadn’t said it involves your future, I would have ordered him off my front porch.”
“Sheriff Logan?”
“James Taft.” Jolene gripped her shoulders when she gasped. “You don’t have to see him. I can tell him to buzz off.”
Except she was intrigued. Why was he talking about her future? Besides, she wanted to see the man who was giving Ben and the Triple M so much trouble. “No, I’ll go.”
“I’ll stay at the door in case you need help,” Jolene said from behind her.
Hannah didn’t have time to answer because when she reached the door, the older man grandly swept off his pristine cowboy hat and bowed slightly at the waist. He wasn’t a large man per se except in girth, but he had a large presence somehow.
Funny, he wasn’t as she’d expected. “You wanted to speak to me, Mr. Taft?”
“James, please,” he entreated in a cajoling voice. “I apologize for intruding on your ladies’ night, but I felt it urgent to speak to you after hearing rumblings around town.”
Walking onto the porch, she was sure the women inside had their ears pressed to the front window, with Jolene at the open door. She walked over to the edge of the railing, hoping for some privacy. “What’s on your mind?”
He produced an envelope from his Western-style vest and extended it to her, his round face appropriately grave. “I was horrified to hear about the threats on your life, Ms. Montgomery.”
Waiting a beat to see if she’d correct him, she decided to play nice. “Hannah.”
“Thank you,” he answered too agreeably. “Nasty affair. You must be scared out of your mind, worrying about Amber Kincaid coming after you.”
She wanted to roll her eyes and say of course she had been, except that wasn’t the right answer here. “Anyone who knows me, Mr. Taft, knows I stand up to whatever comes.”
“Please, call me James.” He gave her an appraising nod. “I’m glad we’ve finally been introduced. I’ve heard so much about you, of course. I had no idea you were both a healer as well as a warrior. Very admirable and a rare combination to boot.”
My, he was smooth, she thought, as he gripped the lapels of his Western jacket. “So Jolene recently said. I’m only being how I am, nothing more.”
“Humble as well,” he added, sweeping his hand grandly. “I heard about Scotland, and it’s not right in my book that you were unfairly deported.”
“I wasn’t exactly deported—”
“I believe I can help with my connection in the United Kingdom from my business interests…given how precarious your situation is.”
She shivered as his mouth formed a way too broad smile. “I don’t know how you could.”
“You’d be surprised what money and power can accomplish, Hannah. I hope you’ll use it. Thinking it will be safer if you do.”
Oh, he was a bully. “Safer? Is that a threat?”
He waved her question aside like he might an annoying fly. “Just neighborly concern. Your mother isn’t well, and your father is getting up in age for a small-town doctor in a town this size. Be a shame for them to come under any disagreeable pressure because of their daughter, yes?”
This threat rooted her to the ground along with his sly smile. What the hell was in the envelope? And how was this man involved in any of it?
Before she could ask any questions, he said, “I don’t want to keep you from your friends.” With a final tip of his hat, he ambled away, his black and silver-studded cowboy boots thumping down the porch steps.
Tearing open the envelope, she pulled out the single paper inside.
Her mouth dropped open as she read the letter. It was from the UK Visas and Immigration office, granting her an Indefinite Leave to Remain visa, which provided the path to citizenship, with apologies and instructions for reentering the country.
Holy crap! He’d given her a clear path back to Scotland.
What the hell?
And threatened her parents if she didn’t go.
Who does he think he is? To threaten her parents like that…
“Your mother isn’t well, I hear, and your father is getting up in age for a small-town doctor in a town this size. Be a shame for them to come under any disagreeable pressure related to you.”
What had he meant?
She sank back against the porch rails as her knees went weak, looking over at the shuttered house of her childhood.
Why would he target me and mine?