Chapter 15
Naomi stood under the spray of the shower with her eyes closed, letting the heat work into the knots between her shoulder blades. Grace was asleep in her bassinet.
Three days had passed since Grace’s arrival.
Naomi had spent most of those three days in a fog of formula and fragmented sleep, running on coffee and whatever her mom or Millie managed to put in front of her.
She should feel overwhelmed.
Part of her did.
But the other part—the part that lit up every time Grace turned her face toward her, the part that had started memorizing the way the baby’s fingers curled around her thumb—that part wasn’t overwhelmed at all.
That part was already in too deep.
Not only that, but Good Boy was still with her. No one had called to claim him.
The dog was faithful and content. He’d filled out some already from being fed and taken care of. And he never left her side.
He fit right in here at Refuge Cove, and part of Naomi hoped no one called about him.
She turned off the water and reached for a towel.
Her mom had come for the day. She and Millie would hold things down at the shelter and had offered to watch Grace. Madelyn, their only guest, had actually left yesterday. A great aunt had offered to let her live at her place, and Madelyn had wanted to go.
Though it felt weird not to have any women at Refuge Cove, maybe the timing was good. They had a lot on their plate with Grace right now. Besides, they could get a call for another placement at any time.
Today, Naomi had a small window of time to get into town, handle things with her auto insurance company, and get back. Working around an infant was certainly different—and challenging. But another part of her loved it.
However, if she didn’t have such a strong community around her offering support, life would be a lot more difficult. She was so thankful her mother and Millie were available to help.
She dressed fast—jeans, a sweater, boots—and pulled her hair back without looking in the mirror. Then she grabbed her keys off the counter and headed toward the stairs.
Grace was asleep in Naomi’s mom’s arms in the living room, her tiny face peaceful.
Naomi paused beside her and whispered, “I won’t be long.”
Her mom looked up and smiled. “Take your time. We’re fine here.”
Naomi crossed the room and pressed a kiss to Grace’s forehead—so light she barely made contact. The baby didn’t stir.
“Be careful,” her mom added, and something in her voice made Naomi look up.
“I will.”
She said goodbye to Millie and Caleb on her way out, waved at Max, and scratched the lab’s ears one more time before stepping out into the cold.
She probably should have mentioned to Micah that she was heading into town. The thought crossed her mind as she unlocked her SUV.
But Grace wasn’t with her, and Micah had only offered to escort her when the baby was along. That made sense. It was more official that way, more part of his job. This was just errands. Nothing that required backup.
As she walked toward the driver’s side door, she saw the dent in her bumper. The damage wasn’t bad enough to keep her off the road, but it was bad enough to remember.
You should’ve slowed down.
Travis’s mocking voice echoed in her mind.
Naomi climbed inside and clutched the wheel.
A moment later, she pulled through the gate and started down the mountain.
The road wound through trees and patches of gray sky. Normally, she loved this drive—the quiet, the solitude, the way the world seemed to slow down the farther she got from everything civilized.
Today, her shoulders wouldn’t relax.
Her eyes kept flicking to the rearview mirror. Once. Twice. Every time the road curved and the trees closed in thick enough to hide what was behind her.
But there was nothing there except empty road.
Still, she couldn’t shake the prickling awareness at the back of her neck, the fear that Travis could appear at any moment. That any curve could hide a red pickup, any blind intersection could bring the sound of an engine accelerating when it should have been braking.
The dent in her bumper wasn’t the only reminder of what he’d done.
The fear had been imprinted deeper than that—somewhere that couldn’t be buffed out or scraped away. Somewhere that made her pulse jump every time a vehicle came up behind her too fast.
As Naomi continued down the road, she forced herself to breathe. To ease her grip on the wheel. To stop checking the mirror every ten seconds.
You’re fine. Nothing’s happened. You’re just making a routine visit into town.
But her body didn’t believe it.
Not until Blue Ridge Hollow appeared at the bottom of the mountain—first the church steeple, then rooftops, then the main street stretching out in a neat line of storefronts and hanging baskets.
Only then did her shoulders finally drop.
Only then did she let herself believe, for just a moment, that maybe this would be an ordinary morning after all.
The town looked like a postcard no matter the season. Right now, with October beginning to strip everything bare, it had a quieter charm—smoke from chimneys, a few early Christmas lights going up in shop windows, and colder air when she stepped out of the SUV.
She was early. Her appointment wasn’t for another forty minutes.
Perfect. That gave her just enough time to grab some coffee.
Naomi locked her SUV and walked two blocks to The Grind House, a small coffee shop tucked between a bookstore and a hardware store. The place had dark wood counters and a chalkboard menu. The smell of roasted beans and cinnamon hit her as soon as she walked in.
The shop was half full. A few regulars sat at small tables by the window. Someone tapped on a laptop in the corner. The barista—a college-aged girl named Jess—waved at her from behind the counter.
“The usual?” Jess asked.
“Please.”
Naomi paid and stepped to the end of the counter to wait. She leaned against it and pulled out her phone to check the time.
That was when the hair on the back of her neck lifted.
The feeling wasn’t because of the cold air that had followed her inside. It was something else.
Someone was watching her. She was certain of it.
She didn’t look up from her phone right away. Instead, she angled the dark screen and scanned the reflections around her.
The woman at the table by the window. The man with the laptop. Jess wiping down the espresso machine.
None of them looked at her.
Naomi finally turned, slow and deliberate, to scan the shop.
Nothing inside caught her eye.
What if the feeling was coming because of someone outside?