Chapter Three #2
She could hear the other ladies moving around, starting their mornings.
Layne’s quick laugh in the hallway, Shiloh’s lower murmur about schedules.
Aspen’s light step crossing the front room and Rhae’s softer cadence, followed by the door shutting as she headed across the grounds to her therapy office in the lodge.
Finally, the low strains of Juliette’s violin wound through the walls and spread under the doors like a balm that blanketed the whole house in love and light.
Then there was the last woman who lived on the ranch, Felicity’s own sister. Honor curled both hands around her mug, her stare fixed on Felicity as if she could will her to speak with the force of one look.
“Breathe,” Honor reminded.
She swallowed another sip of tea, tasting flowers and a lingering sweetness that might hold a person together.
Felicity tried to take Honor’s advice. The air went in but got stuck until she forced it out with a shaky push. The second breath did a little better, though tears pricked hard at the edges of her vision, and she blinked fast to keep them from spilling over.
During her drive here, she didn’t remember when she started crying, only that she did.
She pulled in a gulp of oxygen that felt like the air was tearing, the same as all those ruined pages in her bookshop.
“I had to let everyone go,” she whispered.
Her voice broke, and she swallowed the sound.
“I kept trying to…to stick my finger in the dam of money bleeding out of the bookshop, but I couldn’t hold it back anymore.
” She sniffed hard and pressed the heel of her hand to one eye.
“I told myself it was temporary, that if I did the events, and the weekenders came back with the leaf watchers and the spring tourists—” She shook her head in a quick motion tinged with misery.
“It didn’t matter. I had to let Mina and Rina go. ”
Honor reached out and covered the back of Felicity’s hand balled on the table. “You did what you had to do to keep the doors open. The ladies understand.”
“I thought nothing could be more painful than that. Then I got to the bookshop and someone broke into it overnight.”
Willow issued a sharp gasp, but Felicity had already told Honor. Her sister’s eyes were wide with more than worry.
“The place is a complete wreck.” She shook her head, but the tears began to fall anyway, tracking fast down her cheeks. Willow made a sound and jumped up. A moment later, a box of tissues appeared at her elbow.
She sniffed in thanks and plucked two from the box, dabbing at her eyes. “The back door was open when I got there. When I saw what they did—”
“You went in?” Honor’s eyes flew open wider.
“I could tell the place was empty. They went through everything. Threw books everywhere. The office, the back room. It looked like…like they had a vendetta against paper.”
Willow issued a slow breath. “And you called the police?”
She nodded.
“Did the criminals take anything?”
“Not money. There wasn’t much there anyway, and all the really valuable books are at my place.
” She shook her head again, her hair catching on the collar of her thick cardigan that wasn’t doing a very good job of warding off the chill she felt.
“It doesn’t make sense. The cops think it’s kids.
A ranch had trouble last week. Someone stole small things they could sell. They said it could be related.”
Willow’s mouth went firm in a way that said she didn’t like that answer. “The town cops mean well, but they’re as useful as tits on a bull.”
Honor and Felicity’s heads snapped up at the harsh but funny words. Honor swallowed a giggle, and even Felicity’s lips tugged at one corner.
Willow reached out to touch her hand. “You’re not crazy, thinking that it doesn’t make sense. Why would teens break into your shop and trash it?”
With no answer to that, she reached for a triangle of toast. She managed one bite, then set it down and sipped some tea to wash it down.
“The cops asked me if anyone had a grudge against me. If there were incidents with customers or neighbors. If anyone would want to scare me or I had an angry ex.”
Willow set her palms on the table as if some decision was made. “I said before we have to tell Carson, and now I know we do.”
“He’s so busy. I don’t think we should trouble him with—”
Honor cut across her. “He’ll be more upset if we don’t tell him.”
Willow pushed away from the table and gained her feet. “Meet me in the office. I’ll find Carson.”
Felicity carried her tea with her because she needed the warmth to cling to in a world that suddenly felt too cold. She and Honor found Willow seated at a long conference table. The monitors on the walls were turned off, but a computer hummed in the corner.
She’d barely sat down before the thump of boots on the hardwood floors echoed through the house. A blink later, Carson filled the doorway. He nudged the brim of his Stetson to reveal gray eyes lined with concern.
“Willow’s told me the basics. Can you share more, Felicity?”
Suddenly, her throat was thick again. No wonder this man built up Black Heart Security in such a short time—he was clearly good at his job, offering the compassion and matter-of-factness a person needed.
He took the seat across from her, forearms resting on the table. “Start from the beginning.”
She did, retelling the story she’d told the cops and then Honor and Willow. With every word, she gripped the mug tighter.
At last, Carson nodded. “Do you think someone could be after some valuable books?”
She drew her lip between her teeth. “From what I saw, and without doing an inventory, nothing was taken. I only have a few special editions boxed up at my house.”
Carson tapped a palm on the table. “We should go look around the shop. I’m sure the cops missed things.”
Willow’s gaze flashed to her brother’s. “You can’t go, Carson. You have a meeting in twenty minutes.”
“Postpone it.”
“We can’t do that. You already postponed it once.”
He pushed out a breath through his nostrils. “Push it back a half an hour. I’ve got an idea.”
He left the room. A minute later, he returned…with the tall, handsome cowboy Felicity ran into when she arrived at the ranch. “Felicity, this is Gabe Thorne.”
She lifted her gaze to him, and found him staring at her with that same wrinkle over his brow she’d seen when they spoke outside.
“I’ve seen you around,” she said.
He ducked his head in a single nod but said nothing.
“Gabe’s helping me out. We can use more eyes on the scene of the crime.”
Crime was such an awful word. A shiver rolled through her, and she tensed her muscles to stop the tremor before anyone noticed.
Gabe noticed anyway.
“I’m going too.” Honor pushed away from the table.
Felicity threw out a hand. “No. Honor, you’re teaching an art class in half an hour.”
Her sister gave her that stubborn look Felicity knew all too well from their childhood. Before she could speak, Felicity shot down her argument.
“The vets need you. I’m fine.” She straightened her shoulders as if the words really made it so.
She stood to prove it, steadier on her feet than she’d felt all morning. Honor turned to her, clasping her hands, her wayward curls messy after running her hands through the mass during Felicity’s retelling of the events.
“You’re in good hands.”
“I know.” She squeezed Honor’s hands. Suddenly, she was more aware of the tall man standing there, still and silent, watching her like he was personally responsible for her.
That was silly. Gabe was only helping out Carson. He had no reason to watch out for her.
But as she followed the men outside, she couldn’t help but study the way the man moved, all rolling muscle that was both confident and…prepared for anything at the same time.
Carson paused to turn to her. “Want to ride with us?”
She glanced at her car. “I think I’ll drive.” Then she could go home and curl up in bed and let loose everything she’d bottled up.
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re okay to drive?”
She nodded.
Carson headed for the Black Heart Ranch truck, and Gabe hesitated just long enough for Felicity to feel it. He gave her a long, assessing look—as if deciding whether he trusted her to drive alone after everything she’d been through.
Then, with a decisive shift of his shoulders, he climbed into the truck beside Carson.
Felicity slid into her SUV and followed them down the long lane toward the road, her pulse still jumping in uneven beats. The last few hours spun through her mind—shattered shelves, police questions, her own voice cracking in her the Malones’ kitchen.
But one thing cut through all of it.
When she’d stood in the yard, lost and drowning in the fallout of the morning, Gabe had seen her breaking…and he hadn’t flinched.
He hadn’t turned away.
And somehow, that stayed with her more than the destruction waiting back in town.