Chapter Four
Gabe understood chaos. He understood destruction. But this—books scattered like casualties on the floor—hit him different.
This wasn’t bloodshed or battle. It was a personal violation comprised of paper and ink.
Felicity stood in the middle of the destroyed shop, her arms wound tight around her middle. Once in a while, he saw her delicate chin tremble before she firmed it, tipping it in a display of defiance.
“Jesus. Look at this place.” Carson carefully picked his way through the sea of books, head swinging left and right as he read the scene.
He reached the counter and bent forward to study the open petty cash box, bills spilling out. “How much cash do you keep on hand?”
Felicity’s chin had lowered, but at his question, she lifted it once more. “Fifty dollars in small bills.”
He stuck a long finger into the box and stirred the bills around. “Without counting, it doesn’t look like they took a single dollar.”
Which meant whoever broke in was searching for something else. The thought had that band in Gabe’s shoulders—the one that never seemed to fully relax—pulling tighter.
Carson shifted to the computer system at the corner of the long counter. Despite the mess, the polished wood gleamed. “You have security cameras?”
She nodded. “The police officers already checked out the footage.”
“And?” Carson twisted his head to look at her.
“He said the camera was smashed before it picked anything up.”
Carson’s lips tightened but he said nothing.
Gabe didn’t know Carson Malone very well, but judging from his expression, he didn’t buy the story the police sold Felicity.
Gabe cleared his throat.
Carson didn’t look his way when he said, “What do ya got, Gabe?”
“Smashing the camera wouldn’t erase what was recorded first.”
“Exactly.” Carson faced the display window, which had been tossed too. The cozy decorations Felicity placed there—a stool, a blanket once draped artfully among carefully selected books—had been thrown on the floor.
“Wouldn’t the police know that?” Felicity’s voice came out weak.
Instinctively, Gabe drifted toward her.
Carson nodded to himself. “The Willowbrook PD means well, but some things they lack.”
Like common sense? Gabe wanted to ask but held back.
Carson continued to search the perimeter, even crouching to study the pattern of books swept off a shelf. To Gabe, it appeared someone swiped an arm across the row for no other reason than to wreak havoc.
He watched close. If he wanted to help, really help, he needed to pay attention to how Carson operated.
And Felicity…she absorbed the ruined aisles with a kind of quiet grief that struck Gabe.
Carson moved to the back door and inspected the twisted metal of the broken lock. Felicity followed, with Gabe sticking close to her, ready to catch her if she tripped on the mess.
“Gabe, you see this?” Carson asked.
“Yeah.” He’d spotted it when he stepped through the door. “Someone used a tool to force the lock—you can see the marks—then kicked the door in.”
Felicity’s eyes met his, large blue pools of sadness.
“That’s what I’m seeing,” Carson confirmed. “She needs a better lock.”
Felicity’s chin tipped up. “I’ll buy one at the hardware store.”
Her voice was calmer than it had been an hour before when Honor and Willow dragged her into the security office. Gabe hadn’t been invited to that meeting, but voices carried through the walls, and he’d heard every word before Carson called him in to assist.
Carson turned to face them, dusting off his palms. “I know you’re not asking for our help, Felicity, but we’re giving it. We’re on the job now, so you contact me or Gabe.”
She opened her mouth and closed it again.
“All right. I have to get back for that meeting.” Carson looked at Gabe. “For the time being, you’re off ranch work and on security detail, at least until the rest of the team returns.”
“Copy.” The military response leapt off his lips before he could think about it.
Carson nodded once, then turned to Felicity. His tone gentled. With a wife, a sister and so many women living under the same roof, he’d probably learned how to talk to them.
“Hang in there, honey. We’ve got your six.”
Felicity blinked at him, eyes going wider, like she wasn’t used to people stepping in on her behalf.
“Thank you,” she managed quietly.
Carson left, and silence hovered over the shop.
Gabe turned to her. “Let’s head to the hardware store now. No point in delaying.”
It took her a moment to process what he said, then she nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”
She paused in the parking lot, wondering if the short walk would be good for her or tax her energy more.
In the end, she climbed behind the wheel of her SUV, and he slid in beside her. Even with the seat pushed all the way back, his knees still bumped the glove compartment.
He tried not to look like a giant in a toy car, but the quick smile that ghosted over her lips told him she’d noticed.
She started the engine. For a beat, she didn’t back out, just looked at him. He looked back. The air between them felt electrified. Suddenly, he was very aware he was alone with a beautiful woman for the first time in…hell, years.
Her lashes swept downward, as if she felt it too. Then she shifted into reverse. When she twisted to watch where she was going, he caught the sweet scent of her perfume.
He knew all too well that being around people, new, old, or in between, turned him into the most awkward version of himself. After his sister dragged him to that party, his nerves hummed for two days.
He didn’t feel any of that with Felicity. Even in the midst of the chaos that was her current life, she had the sort of presence that made his world…quieter.
She turned onto the street. “I know you left the ranch for a time. Were you around before or after the exit off the interstate closed?”
“Before. I didn’t know it was closed until I drove in yesterday and had to cut across back roads.”
She gestured at the empty streets. He didn’t see the streets, but he did notice how delicate her wrists were and that she wore a dainty ring on her pinky finger made of beads the color of a blue jay.
“You can see how it’s affected our town.”
Our town. As if he belonged here too.
Maybe he did.
He inflated his lungs and found it easier to release the air. “I admit, I didn’t come into town very much before. But the few times I did, there was a lot more traffic.”
She took a turn leading to the parking lot behind the hardware store. After she parked, he unwedged himself from the front seat and waited for her on the sidewalk so they could enter together.
The bell tinkled, announcing their arrival. A couple older guys who were leaning against the counter looked up.
“Lookin’ for anything special?” one craggy older man called out.
“Door locks,” Gabe answered.
“Aisle three.” He went back to talking, and Gabe led the way to the selection.
He and Felicity stood side by side, scanning the display. Felicity reached for a package with bold letters printed across the top. EASY INSTALL.
She made a soft noise. “I can do this. Doesn’t look too hard.”
He eyed her. “You can,” he said. “But you don’t have to do everything yourself.”
Her shoulders stiffened.
He gentled his tone to one he might use with his young niece—the way Carson did back in the wrecked bookshop. “You’re capable, Felicity. Anyone can see that. But I’m here too. I don’t have anywhere else I need to be right now.”
Her throat worked, and an emotion he couldn’t name flickered behind her eyes. They weren’t just any blue—they were the color of the pale mist he’d seen clinging to the peaks of the mountains at daybreak.
He plucked the lock from her hand with a quirk of his lips. “I’m more than just a pretty face, you know. I can actually use tools.”
That earned a real smile from her, and he took it as a win.
“I’ll pay you.”
“No, you won’t. We’re not doing that either.”
She didn’t argue, even though he saw her lips part and then snap shut.
He drifted down the aisle, searching for another item. He grabbed a two-pack of floodlight cameras too.
“What’s that for?”
“They’re to install on the eave of the building.”
Her brow wrinkled. “I only have an eight-foot ladder.”
He huffed a small laugh. “I’m six feet tall. I can reach.” Firmer, he said, “You’re not getting up on the ladder. I’ve got this.”
Back at the shop, he didn’t waste time. He secured the first floodlight above the front entrance, adjusting the angle until the entire doorway was covered. Then he hefted the ladder onto his shoulder and carried it around back to install the other.
Felicity hovered nearby as he worked, arms wrapped around herself. He recognized what she was doing—she was holding on to what little control she had left.
“Can I do anything?” she asked, biting her lip.
God, she was even cuter from this angle. She and Honor shared the same pale brown hair color. Instead of Honor’s thick mass of curls, Felicity’s had a gentle wave that caught a reddish cast in the sunlight.
“I got it.” Holding the camera light in place with one hand, he withdrew the screwdriver from his back pocket to attach the device to the building.
“I’m not totally without skills,” she called up to him. “I’ve done a lot of DIYs around the shop and my house too.”
He cast her a glance. “I’m not surprised. You’re strong and independent.”
Her eyes flicked up to him. “How do you know that?”
“You’re a business owner. I also know how strong Honor is.”
She directed her gaze to the pavement. Though she didn’t respond, he got the feeling she wasn’t displeased by what he said.
When he finished, he pulled out his phone to check the feed using the app. He tweaked the camera angle a bit to cover the entire parking lot as well as the stoop leading to the door. Then he climbed down.
“All set.” He held up his phone so she could see.
She looked it over. “I really appreciate your help, Gabe.”
“Not a problem.” He collapsed the ladder and leaned it against the side of the building.
“Are you sure I can’t pay you?”