Chapter Eight
CHAPTER EIGHT
“ Got it, Dad?”
“ I got it, I got it. Stirring’s not rocket science.”
Despite his response, Keeley kept an eye on him. She’d already caught him with the salt shaker, sprinkling away. They were following an oatmeal cookie recipe his mother had used when he was a boy. She’d seen a social media post suggesting baking with family recipes as a good activity to connect mid-stage Alzheimer’s patients with their memories. Added benefit? Yummy cookies.
“ Do you remember baking with Nana when you were little?”
He nodded. “Mama let me lick the spoon. The smell when they baked was the best.”
“ You’ll have to let me know if these taste just as good.”
She added the chopped walnuts to the mixture. Once they were folded in, Bruce carefully scooped dough to drop onto the tray. She slid the tray into the oven and set the timer.
Their marmalade cat Iggy sat on the wide window ledge, orange tail swishing as he watched birds at the bird feeder. Squirrels were his obsession, and more than once he’d thought he could pounce through the window. Good thing he was an indoor cat, or the wild animal population would be hunted into decline.
The wide window ledges were only one part of the kitchen remodel Abby and Bruce had done last fall. Quartz countertops, new cabinetry, and fresh paint worked together to make the space more welcoming and comfortable.
Bruce gave a jaw-cracking yawn. “I’m going to lie down. ”
“ Okay, Dad. Our cookies will be done by the time you wake up.”
Iggy trailed behind him. The cat was his constant companion. Keeley studied her father’s gait. He seemed to be shuffling his feet more.
She sighed. Nothing would stop the progression of the disease, and it seemed like every week there was something new, something else to add to the list of what the disease had stolen from her dad, from their family.
Keeley sat at the kitchen table where she and her parents had shared so many meals and important family discussions. Their little family of three was all she had. Keeley’d had a little brother, briefly. Her mother had given birth to a little boy who’d died hours later. She’d been four when he’d been born, and what she remembered most was a deep sadness permeating their home. She’d always tried to be a good girl, not to cause trouble, and had tried to bring joy to replace the sadness.
For years her parents had kept a photo of the tiny infant on the mantel. She’d study his newborn face, searching for any clue of what he’d have looked like if he’d survived. Would he have kept the dark hair? Would he have had her dad’s brown eyes, or Abby’s gray eyes, or the mix Keeley had gotten with her hazel?
Her own pregnancy had ended after only a few brief months. She’d cherished that tiny life, but then it had been gone, disappearing in a rush of blood and pain. She’d learned at a young age that loving someone meant risking everything, since that person could be stripped away from you in an instant. Or, she thought, who they were could erode slowly over time by a memory-wasting disease.
Shaking off the melancholy, she rose to check the cookies. She hoped her friends’ pregnancies were healthy and uneventful, and that all they had to worry about was picking out names and decorating nurseries.
While using a metal spatula to slide the cookies onto a cooling rack, her phone pinged with a text .
She prepped the next tray and had it in the oven before returning to the table to check her phone. Jaxon’s name showed on the screen.
Ugh. He’d texted her after their breakup, trying to convince her to give them another chance. The texts had all been in the same vein: They were soulmates and belonged together. Their kind of love was destined by the stars. You couldn’t argue with fate when fate had brought them together. Blah, blah, blah.
He’d finally stopped so she hadn’t bothered blocking his number. So here he was again oozing about how it was fate that he’d run into her at the bar, and that he was still in town and they should get together for old times’ sake.
Did he even remember their conversation the previous evening? She typed out a firm “no,” and hit send. That was it, no explanation, no excuses. Then she blocked his number as she should’ve done months ago.
But a thought nagged at her: How had he known to find her at Easy Money? She wasn’t buying that he’d happened to show up where she was working.
She sat with her chin in her hand as she thought of who she’d told where she was working: her parents, her friends in Sisters, Yousef.
Yousef was a gossip so he definitely could’ve told others, but while they’d met at a holiday party, Yousef and Jaxon didn’t know each other. It wasn’t like where she worked was a secret or anything, but it did make her wonder how Jaxon had known where to find her.
Abby came through the kitchen door carrying a grocery bag and wearing a trim quilted vest in deep purple over a long-sleeved t-shirt paired with olive green jeans. “It’s warmed up a bit today. I think spring is truly on the way.” She set the bag on the counter. “Those cookies smell heavenly. Your dad help you with them?”
Keeley nodded as she rose to put the kettle on for tea while Abby unpacked groceries. “He’s napping. Baking wore him out.” She sighed. “He’s getting crankier, even a little mean. ”
Abby’s sigh held a world of sorrow. “It’s this monstrous disease. Your father is the kindest man I’ve ever known, and it’s taking that part of him away from us.”
“ I know, Mom. It’s hard for him, but it’s harder on you.”
Abby gathered Keeley in a hug. “It’s hard on all of us.” She released her daughter and together they put away the groceries.
Keeley plated the cookies, and in short order they were seated at the table, mugs steaming between them.
“ I feel we haven’t had time to catch up. Most days we pass each other while trading shifts caring for your dad. I’m thankful you’re able to be with him more while Mrs. Troung is on vacation. It’s a real help.” Abby was a librarian and had cut back her hours to mornings only so she could be home for Bruce the rest of the day.
Abby bit into a warm cookie. “Oh, this is perfect.” Wiping crumbs on a napkin, she said, “Tell me about the sisters. Are they feeling any pregnancy symptoms?”
“ Not that I’ve heard. Delaney says Walker’s been reading a book on pregnancy. He was looking a little green when he got to the part on childbirth.”
“ Oh, that’s perfect. The bad boy is humbled.” Abby laughed. “Now, tell me how it is working for Owen.”
“ For the most part it’s fine. He can be grumpy.” Keeley chose her words carefully. Abby hadn’t been exactly subtle in her opinion that Keeley and Owen would make a good match. No sense in giving her mom false hope. “But he’s also, I don’t want to say kind, but he can be considerate in a grumpy Owen way.”
Seeing a spark of interest told her she hadn’t been as careful as she’d hoped. Keeley steered the conversation away from Owen. “Josie Whitlock works there and she’s still as awful as she was in high school. She has the hots for Owen and decided I’m her rival. I’ve told her that’s ridiculous, but she’s hardwired to see me as her competition no matter what.” Keeley’s smile flashed. “She was complaining about something stupid from high school and Owen told her to get over it. ”
“ Good for him. He’s protective of you.”
Keeley shook her head. “That’s overstating things. Owen cares about you and Dad, so by extension, he keeps an eye on me. Add that my tires were stabbed after he told me my car would be fine leaving it on the side of the road overnight, and I think he feels some responsibility.” She didn’t know if she was trying to convince her mom or herself. There’d been that moment in the office that made her think maybe the heat wasn’t one-sided. But that’s all it’d been. A fleeting moment of feelings, soon to be forgotten.
“ I think he’s been hurt in the past so he’s careful.” At Keeley’s raised eyebrows, Abby shook her head. “Whatever it is, Owen hasn’t shared, but there’s something painful there.” She laid her hand over her daughter’s. “No one gets through this life without some grief, but having strong love, sharing a life with someone who loves you deeply, makes it easier to bear.”
***
Keeley steered her CRV up the driveway, the security light over the garage door coming on as she parked next to her cottage. Girls’ night had been a blast. She’d spent the evening with Delaney and her sisters at her cabin. It’d started with Delaney and Keeley, then expanded to include Emery and Cam. They’d had so much fun. Delaney couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much. Walker had given them space and headed out to hang with his dudes at Easy Money.
Keeley and the sisters had spent the evening in digital detox, setting aside their phones and hanging out. They’d decided on crostini with everyone bringing their favorite toppings to go with Cam’s fresh-baked baguettes, followed by a variety of delicious chocolates purchased at a new chocolaterie in town. They’d given each other DIY spa treatments so Keeley’s face glowed from her facial, and her finger- and toenails were buffed and glossy with new polish called Cherry Bomb .
Emery had suggested they not spend the evening talking about their men and focus instead on other aspects of their lives. Fine with Keeley since she didn’t have a man. Conversation had revolved around pregnancy and babies, as well as work and homes, and plans for the future.
It’d been great. Time with her friends always gave her an emotional boost. But Keeley couldn’t help feeling her life had stalled.
Sure, she had a solid career, one she enjoyed and that gave her professional satisfaction. That was fine, but she was also back home living with her parents. She was there as they navigated Alzheimer’s and its impact on their family: to emotionally support both her parents and to be part of her dad’s care team.
But she couldn’t help feeling her friends with their handsome husbands and beautiful homes were farther up the life curve than she was. She needed to renew her efforts to meet someone.
Lately though, dating seemed a chore. She couldn’t lay that entirely at Jaxon’s feet. Most of the men she met were perfectly fine, but none lit any kind of spark in her.
Blame for that lay entirely at Owen’s feet. Working for him had been a strategic mistake because spending more time together had only deepened her stupid crush. The hope that more exposure would reveal his flaws and her crush would wither and die had been way too optimistic.
Once in bed with the doors locked and double-checked, she spent an hour scrolling through profiles on the dating app she’d joined. She swiped past dozens, and when none appealed, she told herself she was being too picky and went back for a second look.
One guy, Ric, was kinda cute in a nerdy sort of way. His profile said he was an entomologist with a state agency. He checked the gainfully employed box. His Instagram page showed he posted pictures of bugs. Lots of bugs. She chewed her lip, considering. Nerdy was okay, not everyone could be an Owen Hardesty. There was nothing wrong with insects being your passion. She tapped the “I’m interested” button and continued scrolling.
A chime sounded. Ric wanted to message her. Okay. With a couple of taps, they started chatting. Thirty minutes later she’d finally extricated herself from a text conversation about the life cycle of a particular species of parasitoid wasp that laid its eggs in the bodies of other insects and when the eggs hatched, the larvae ate the host.
Or was it the pupae that ate the host? Whichever, the end result was the insect host, after being eaten from the inside out, was dead.
She and Ric were not advancing to the next stage.
Keeley still had the creeps when she finally set her phone on her nightstand before she tried to fall sleep.
***
The next evening, Owen’s Bronco was missing from the parking lot when she arrived at Easy Money for her shift. Jen was bartending, and for some reason, Owen’s absence threw Keeley off.
“ He’s at his house,” Jen said when Keeley asked.
“ His house?”
“ Yeah, you know, the house he inherited from his grandparents? A delivery for the remodel came in and he took the day off to deal with that and put in some hours.”
One brief conversation with Jen and Keeley’d learned more about Owen than she’d ever known.
She worked her tables, chatted with customers, delivered orders, all the while mulling over the knowledge Owen had a house he’d never mentioned, and that he was remodeling.
Actually, there was no reason he should’ve told her, but it seemed important somehow. Also, his grandparents had lived in Sisters. She thought he’d been new in town when he’d bought Easy Money a couple years back, but grandparents meant family connections. She wondered if he’d visited as a boy .
Keeley didn’t want to attribute the evening dragging to Owen’s absence. Add in her dad’s disease, and she was feeling a little down. A rarity for her.
When the last customer left a half hour before closing, Jen texted Owen, who replied they could close early.
Jen sent Dion and Josie home, then she and Keeley finished the closing routine. They walked out together, Jen locking the door behind them. Owen’s Bronco was parked at the base of the stairs, indicating he’d returned sometime during the evening.
Jen’s car was near the door while Keeley had parked at the back of the lot where a row of pine trees grew along a fence. It’d been the only area available when she’d arrived.
Lights were strung from tree to tree to illuminate the parking spaces. Jen started up her little Mazda and backed up, lowering the passenger window. Keeley fished around in her purse, searching for her keys and phone, chiding herself for not having them in her hand before leaving the bar.
“ You good?” Jen peered through the window. Keeley knew Jen was meeting up with her boyfriend so Keeley waved her away.
“ Yeah, I’m fine. See you tomorrow.”
Jen drove off and Keeley continued across the parking lot, her hand still feeling around in her purse.
An indistinct sound brought her to a stop. She cocked her head and listened. A breeze whispered through the pines and it felt like the darkness from the moonless sky was closing in around her.
She shook off a feeling of unease. Until the sound repeated.
A footstep from near the back fence, then what sounded like something brushing against a tree trunk. It could be a raccoon or a skunk. Wild animals made their way into town all the time. But she didn’t think it was a raccoon or a skunk. It sounded like someone moving against the rough bark of a tree.
She felt her phone and she let out a relieved breath. Now her keys. She opened her purse wider and used the flashlight on her phone to search. They weren’t there. Her stomach sank. She’d probably left them in her locker.
When she’d come into the bar, she’d been chatting with Jen and not really paying attention, and rather than putting them in her bag she might’ve let them drop to the bottom of the locker.
Ugh. She’d have to bother Owen and ask him to unlock the door to Easy Money so she could check her locker.
The sound of a car passing on Main Street made a quiet whooshing sound. Footsteps sounded again, coming from behind her. She spun around thinking it might be Owen.
No one was there. Her gaze darted to the shadows around the trees, trying to locate the source of the sound, a difficulty with her heart pounding in her ears.
She’d reached her car, but without her keys she wasn’t going anywhere. She turned back to the bar and again heard furtive steps that stopped when she did.
Sisters was a safe place. People didn’t get accosted in parking lots. Though that was exactly what had had happened to Delaney in this very same parking lot shortly after Walker had returned to town.
She tapped the screen on her phone, putting it to her ear, slowly scanning her surroundings as she stepped back toward the building. The call was picked up on the first ring.
“ Keeley, where are you?” Simply hearing Owen’s voice helped settle her.
“ In the parking lot. It’s probably nothing, but I heard a noise and it scared me and I can’t find my keys.” She realized she was talking to a blank screen. He’d hung up on her.
She stared at her phone. What the heck?
A startled yelp escaped from her mouth when a form materialized from behind the tree she’d parked under. She barely registered the door of the upstairs apartment crashing like it had been flung against the wall, her attention zeroed in on the young man edging toward her.
“ Gimme your purse. ”
Keeley jerked back. “What?”
“ Your purse. Gimme your purse.” Wearing dark jeans and a black hoodie with a beanie pulled low over his eyes, he was shorter than her and rail thin.
He was young, no more than a teenager. He made a jabbing motion and she gasped when light gleamed dully off a short-bladed knife gripped in his right hand.
She stepped backward, trying to put as much distance between herself and the knife as possible while keeping him in her line of sight.
He glanced over her shoulder, eyes widening. “Fuck. Dammit, bitch, gimme me the purse.” He spoke fast, his voice cracking as he bounced on the balls of his feet. Then he lunged for her, grappling for the strap of her purse. She jerked away from him, phone flying from her hand to spin across the pavement. She flung her purse as far as she could hoping he’d go after it and not hurt her. Nothing in the purse was worth her life.
He darted after it, but had taken only a couple steps when a shirtless and barefoot Owen streaked past her, over two hundred pounds of pissed-off former Marine slamming into the younger man with the impact of a semi.
They both hit the asphalt, the knife skittering under the car. In seconds Owen had him face down on the pavement and was holding the mugger’s hands with one of his own, his knee planted in his back.
Holy smokin’ moly. Owen Hardesty was one beautiful man. The sheer physicality of all those gorgeous muscles in motion was a sight to behold. Then the reality of the situation crashed into her.
A kid had tried to mug her. Sisters wasn’t New York or LA. She’d visited both cities and been perfectly safe. And now in her little mountain town, a kid had tried to take her purse by threatening her with a knife.
Owen’s head swiveled as he scanned the area, then began to pat down his detainee. He found nothing in his pockets .
“ Did you see anyone else?” he growled at Keeley.
She hadn’t even considered her mugger might have an accomplice. She looked around. “I don’t see anyone.”
Owen snapped out orders rapid-fire. “Stay out of reach of this little shit and get your phone. Call 9-1-1.”
“ No, no. Don’t call the police,” the little shit wailed. “I’ll get in so much trouble. I can’t breathe, man, I can’t breathe.”
Keeping the kid’s hands behind his back, Owen removed his knee.
Keeley gathered up her phone and purse, and took a moment to slow the breath wheezing in and out of her lungs.
She could’ve been hurt, but she was safe.
She needed to get herself together. Thankfully her phone screen hadn’t been damaged. She fisted her hand with her index finger outstretched to keep it from shaking and called the emergency number. She was pleased her voice remained steady as she described the situation and gave their location.
When she disconnected, Owen ordered, “Now reach in my pocket and get my keys.”
She shoved her phone in her purse and stepped over the kid’s legs to slip her fingers into the slit pocket of Owen’s sweats and tug out his keys. Her agitation must’ve been broadcasting out loud because he said, “Look at me.” Her gaze found his and his calmness steadied her, settling over her like a warm blanket. “You’re safe, Keeley.”
Her breath came out in a whoosh. “I know. I’m sorry I’m such a wimp.”
“ Not a wimp. Just not used to this kind of situation. But you’re safe now.” When she nodded, he said, “Open the back of the Bronco. There’s a black duffel in there. Open it, find the zip ties, and bring them to me. Got it?”
She nodded again.
She did as he’d directed, and in short order, Owen had the restraints in place. A siren wailed in the distance. He rose to his feet, leaving her mugger curled on the asphalt .
Owen swung around, and before she could draw a breath, his hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheekbones. His gaze drilled into her, skimming over her face as if absorbing the details. His touch set off a power surge she felt from her head all the way to her toes. She wanted to burrow into him and hold on.
“ You okay?”
She gave the briefest of nods. “Yes. You’re here.” She should totally shut up before she revealed too much.
He drew her closer, his expression fierce.
“ Are you hurt?” she asked. “You hit the ground hard when you tackled him.”
Intense was Owen’s default mode, but she was witnessing his normal intensity on steroids. She imagined the adrenaline surging through his body amplified whatever was going on in his head.
The wailing of sirens drew closer.
“ I’m fine,” he murmured. His gaze followed his thumb grazing over her face and then lower to her lips, returning to burn into her eyes like blue flame.
He had to’ve felt the puff of her exhaled breath as his thumb pulled on her bottom lip. Her hands gripped his wrists. If he kissed her, and he sure looked like he wanted to, she’d need to hold on to him to keep from spinning off into the night.
He ducked his head, lips a whisper from hers, and…a patrol car sped into the parking lot, blue and red lights flashing, siren cutting off mid-wail.
The second patrol vehicle arrived right behind it.