Chapter 19
NINETEEN
Clothes shopping was a smashing success.
Charlie took Maren to a consignment store that had cute summer dresses, shorts, and t-shirts.
The only thing that made Maren pause was when she grabbed a third dress off the rack and suddenly realized that she was trying on enough clothing to last her a month in Colorado.
A month in the safehouse.
“Everything all right?” Colin was at her side instantly. His presence felt comforting and Maren’s shoulders dropped. She hadn’t realized they were up around her ears.
Right. She was out with two bodyguards making sure no one killed her. Even now, Charlie was discreetly scanning the store and the street outside as she pretended to rummage through a sale rack near the window. And Colin had watched her like a hawk all day. Which actually felt…nice.
Dangerously better than nice.
“Yeah, great,” Maren lied. “Just doing math in my head and failing. I’m going to go try these on.” She quickly headed for a dressing room, hoping her answer was enough to satisfy him, and knowing it probably wasn’t.
After she spent way more than she should have and Charlie had found not one but two pairs of jeans that went all the way to her ankles—”a banner day,” she declared—they made their way to Riversong.
“About time you got here,” a woman behind the counter greeted them. She looked like she was in her early thirties. Her dark hair was pulled back, and she wore a Riversong Coffee apron
“April,” Charlie said. “This is Maren. Maren, April—Shane’s better half.”
“Wow, and that’s coming from Shane’s best friend,” April said, tossing Charlie a fond smile as she reached across the counter, extending her hand to Maren. “It’s so good to finally meet you. Shane called and told me Kevin has been having fun with Juni all morning.”
“Really?” Maren felt warmth spread through her chest.
“Oh yeah. Apparently she knows everything about Pretzel and also has opinions about Bennie’s training regimen.” April grinned. “I have a feeling those two are going to be thick as thieves.”
“That would be wonderful,” Maren said. “Juni could use another friend.”
So could I. She liked April already.
“Kevin could, too. He’s a good kid. A little serious sometimes, but Juni seems to bring out his silly side. Shane said she was making him laugh within five minutes.”
Maren felt her throat tighten. Juni at ease enough to be making another kid laugh felt like a miracle.
This is her home.
Maren pushed down that random thought. It was too heavy and scary at the moment.
“What can I get you?” April asked, already turning toward the espresso machine. “Charlie, I’m making your usual. Latte with a splash of cream, no sugar,” April said over her shoulder. “I’ve got your number, King.”
From behind the counter, an older man with salt-and-pepper hair looked up. His name tag read Sonny. “April. Customer service.”
“I’m being customer service-y!” April protested. “What do you call knowing my favorite customer’s favorite drink?”
“Bossy,” he said mildly.
“That’s just efficient.”
“Hey, I thought I was your favorite customer.” A woman had crossed the coffee shop from her seat in the window. She grinned at Maren.
“Girl, you aren’t a customer, you’re furniture at this point.”
“Dammit, April,” Sonny said.
“What? It’s just Rochelle. By the way, Maren, this is Rochelle. She’s my bestie and also in the book club that you’d better be going to at Arden’s.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Rochelle nodded at Maren. “I’m furniture, apparently.”
Maren snickered.
“Very pretty furniture that we keep in the window to class the place up and draw people in.” She shrugged. “Hey, it worked with Gabe.”
Rochelle laughed. “That it did.”
“And while we’re doing names, this grump is my dad, Sonny. He pretends to be annoyed by me but secretly thinks I’m hilarious.”
“Very secretly,” Sonny confirmed with absolutely no expression.
“And, let’s see.” April sized Colin up. “Black coffee for you. Large.”
“Exactly.”
“And for you?” April asked Maren.
“Um—” Maren glanced at the menu board behind the counter, suddenly overwhelmed by options. “What’s good?”
“Everything,” April said with zero modesty. “But if you want my actual recommendation—have you had lunch?”
“Donuts,” Maren admitted.
“From Do’s and Donuts, I hope?” April said.
“You know it.”
“If you’ve been throwing axes—and you better have—then you need ballast along with your caffeine. I’m making you a honey lavender latte and a turkey cranberry panini. Trust me.”
“I—okay, that sounds great.” Maren smiled. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Thank me after you’ve tasted it.” April was already moving, pulling shots, steaming milk, her movements efficient and practiced. “So Charlie, are you the one responsible for taking her to Do’s and Donuts?”
“Obviously.”
“And?”
“She threw a bullseye on her first try.”
April looked up, impressed. “No shit?”
“April. Language.”
“Sorry, Papa.” April leaned over the counter and stage-whispered, “Not remotely sorry.” She turned back to Maren. “Okay, I officially like you. Anyone who can nail a bullseye on their first try is welcome here anytime.”
The door behind them chimed. Maren turned to see a young woman walk in—early twenties, blonde, with bright-eyed energy.
“Hannah!” April called. “Perfect timing. Come meet Maren. Maren, this is my lil’ sis.”
Hannah’s face lit up. “Oh! You’re Juni’s aunt. Kevin FaceTimed me from Watchdog earlier. She seems so sweet.”
“She is,” Maren said, feeling herself relax.
“Hannah, you’re late,” Sonny said.
Hannah rolled her eyes as she went around the counter and grabbed an apron. “Class ran long and traffic was bad in Boulder.” She looked pointedly at the speaker playing what sounded like smooth jazz. “Papa, did you win the coin toss again?”
“I did.”
“Suspicious,” Hannah said. “I think you’re using a weighted coin.”
“Prove it.”
Hannah laughed and turned to Maren. “Please be the best customer ever and request something that is not Kenny G. My father won’t listen to his employees.”
“Kenny G’s a classic,” Sonny protested. “And you ain’t employees, you’re co-owners.”
“Nope,” Maren said, putting her hands up. “I’m not getting between a man and his music.”
“Rochelle…” Hannah batted her eyes at her friend. “Pleeeease?”
“Don’t look at me. I’m just furniture.”
“Pretty furniture, I told you,” April said.
“Not even gonna ask,” Hannah said. “A refill on the iced vanilla latte for the furniture, coming up.” She flashed a smile at them. “April’s not the only one who has everyone’s favorites memorized.”
“You guys go sit down. Sandwiches will be up in a minute,” April told them.
“What do I owe—” Maren started.
“Nada. Nobody’s money is good here today.”
“Are…are you sure?”
April laughed. “Yeah, I think we can cover it.” She winked at Charlie. “Now go sit down.”
“Come sit with me,” Rochelle said. She led them to her table with the window seat. She closed a couple of notebooks and her laptop and put them in her tote to make room on the table.
The panini press beeped. April pulled out Maren’s sandwich, plated it with a bag of kettle chips, and brought it over along with the drinks.
“I’ll be back with the rest of the sandwiches in a sec. Here,” she said, setting the food down in front of Maren. “Eat. You look like you need it.”
Maren did. She was suddenly ravenous. The first bite was perfect—turkey, cranberry sauce, melted cheese, on sourdough that was crispy on the outside and soft on the inside.
“Good?” April asked.
“Amazing.” Maren took another bite.
April beamed. Then she squatted beside Maren. Her expression shifted, and turned gentler.
“Shane told me a little about what you’re dealing with,” she said softly. “Not details—just that things are complicated right now.”
Maren swallowed. Nodded.
“Just so you know,” April said quietly. “You’re safe here. Both of you, I mean. This town—we take care of our own. And Sean’s family is our family. I grew up with him, too.”
Maren’s vision blurred. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Just come back, okay? Bring Juni. Let us—” April’s voice caught. “Let us know Sean’s daughter.”
“I will,” Maren whispered. “I promise.”
April stood, squeezed Maren’s shoulder once, then went back to the counter where Sonny was building a complicated drink order.
Colin set his black coffee down. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Maren took a sip of her latte—honey and lavender and perfect. “Better than okay, actually.”
“Good.”
Maren ate her sandwich and watched Lyons move past the glass. People walking dogs. Couples holding hands. A woman pushing a stroller. Normal life, happening all around her.
She’d almost forgotten what that looked like.
“Thank you,” she said to Colin and Charlie. To the room in general.
“For what?” Charlie asked.
“For this. For letting me feel human again.” Maren looked down at her plate. “For reminding me that the world is still out there. That it’s still good.”
Colin’s hand found hers under the table. Squeezed once.
“Always,” he said quietly.
And for the first time since the break-in, since the recording, since the cross-country drive in the dark—Maren let herself believe it.
When they’d finished their late lunch, they bused the table, made their goodbyes with promises to see April, Rochelle, and Hannah at the book club, and headed outside. Maren had heard the sound of rushing water when they’d first parked. It sounded even louder now.
“Am I hearing the St. Vrain?” she asked.
“You are,” Charlie said, a hint of wistfulness in her voice. “It’s just down those stairs.” She pointed toward the part of the parking lot that wrapped around Riversong.
“I’d kind of like to see it before we head back. Is that all right?”
“Sure.” Charlie and Colin both took a quick look around, then they headed for the top of the stairs. They went about twenty feet down to a path that ran alongside the river.
“It’s running high this year,” Charlie said over the roar of the water. “It’s a shame the other side of the Divide is so dry.”