Chapter Twenty-Six
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BUNDLED IN her peacoat, arms crossed against the single-digit temps, Gwynn trudged toward the The Nutty Bean on Monday morning to meet Lainey for coffee. Last night’s revelation had given her yet another incentive to find a way inside the ranch house, but ever since, her stomach ricocheted in random directions like it was caught in a pinball arcade game.
The one thing she needed to do was the last thing she desired. What if she couldn’t handle the truth?
The truth will set you free.
She adjusted the scarf covering her nose. Would it, though? Or would it send her to prison?
At least Cash would get his money.
“Provided no one’s found it yet,” she grumbled, approaching the coffee shop where Lainey stood, waving, beneath The Nutty Bean’s swirly logo engraved on a wooden sign.
She greeted Lainey with a hug. “Of all the cafés in town, you had to choose this one. Hadley is the last person Tessa wants to see here. And what if Ainsley’s working?” Gwynn couldn’t keep her face covered and drink coffee at the same time.
“Tessa doesn’t know for a fact you’re Hadley, it’s Ainsley’s day off, and there are no other cafés.” Lainey tucked her hand through Gwynn’s arm and pulled her into the shop. Warm air and the rich scents of espresso and sugar greeted them.
Gwynn’s body relaxed. Perhaps Tessa had mellowed over the years, and she’d now treat “Hadley” as courteously as she’d treated Gwynn.
She followed Lainey past a menagerie of beanbags, plush hassocks, and wrought iron tables and chairs to the counter near the back half of the shop. An electric fireplace graced one side wall, its mantelpiece adorned with delicate Christmas greenery and mini white lights. A massive painting of rambling cherry blossom branches hung above the fireplace.
Now that would look fantastic on one of Cash’s pieces.
This place was getting cuter by the second.
“What about Chuck’s Big Cup?” Gwynn asked, loosening her scarf.
“Went out of business. And Verdie’s Vittles doesn’t make coffee any better than they did ten years ago. Morning, Willow.” Lainey smiled at the black-haired barista behind the counter. Sounds emitted through an archway off to the side, indicating others worked in a back room. “I’d like your peppermint mocha with whipped cream, please.” Lainey tapped the small display case on the counter that held scones, muffins, and other pastries. “And one of those blueberry scones.” She turned to Gwynn. “What would you like? This is on me.”
“Oh, you don’t need to—”
“My favorite cousin has come back from the dead, and I’m going to celebrate. Choose.”
Willow’s eyebrows arched, her finger poised over the register tablet.
Gwynn elbowed Lainey. “You make me sound like a walking zombie.” To Willow, she said, “I’ll take a white mocha. With a shot of butterscotch,” she added, recalling the drinking chocolate from Saturday. “And a blueberry scone for me, too, please.”
Willow nodded and quoted Lainey the price. Lainey propped her purse on the counter, removed her wallet, and counted out coins and paper bills.
Gwynn snorted. “If I’m a zombie, you’re a dinosaur. Who uses cash these days, other than at the Christmas Jam?”
“I’m helping stave off full-fledged digital currency. If we don’t use it, we lose it.”
A dime and three pennies slipped through Lainey’s fingers and pinged on the tiled floor.
Gwynn laughed. “You’re losing it, all right.” She chased after the bouncing coins, dropping below the countertop as a woman emerged from the back room.
“—don’t know why you’re not fighting for him,” the woman said in a nasal voice.
“I don’t have to fight. I simply have to bide my time.”
Gwynn stilled where she crouched on the floor, her hand covering the dime. Tessa!
“Zeke swears Cash has fallen in love with her all over again,” the other woman said.
“Like Zeke knows anything.” Tessa scoffed amid sounds of shifting items. “Cash is looking for a way to jog Hadley’s memory. He told me so on our lunch date. Said he has a new lead on where his family’s money is hidden, and then he dished on how Gwynn is actually Hadley.”
Gwynn’s heart thumped as she gathered the pennies in her palm. She looked up and caught Lainey’s wide-eyed stare.
“Can you believe she’s been alive all these years? Living like a coward on the East Coast.” Tessa’s voice had turned snarky. Now there was the Tessa Gwynn remembered. “She’s a means to his end, that’s all. His opportunity to find the money. When she remembers where she hid it and confesses to Cash, he’ll ditch her and—oh, Lainey! H-hi.” A nervous giggle escaped her. “Have you been standing there this whole time?”
Gwynn rose to her feet. Behind Willow, Tessa and another woman were in the process of stocking shelves along the back wall. Tessa looked at Gwynn and red bloomed on her cheeks.
Gwynn forced a smile. “Good morning, Tessa. Cute place, The Nutty Bean, though I hear the coffee can sometimes come across as bitter.” She cocked her head. “Or was that in reference to the management?” Dropping the coins in Lainey’s hand, she met her cousin’s gaze and jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll wait for you by the fireplace.”
* * *
It took two hours, two more scones, tears and a lot of laughter to catch each other up on a summarized version of their lives over the last nine years. Spoken in low voices so Tessa couldn’t overhear, of course.
“I’m so glad we got together,” Lainey said as they exited the café, dabbing at her tears from their last round of laughs. She drew Gwynn into a hug. “And thanks for trusting me with your story. I won’t say anything until you give me the go-ahead.” Pulling back, she scowled. “Although with Tessa’s loose tongue—”
“I know.” Gwynn cinched her scarf around her neck, a gust of wind cutting through her flimsy peacoat. “My days of anonymity are coming to an end.”
Lainey slipped her purse strap onto her shoulder and turned her scowl to the coffee shop. “I wish I could assure you of Cash’s true feelings, but I only know what Tessa told me the other week before you showed up—that she and Cash were starting to get serious.”
Gwynn’s gut writhed, but she said, “It’s fine, Lainey. It’s not like he and I have an understanding.”
“You’re headed to his workshop now, right? Talk to him about it. You two never used to hide things from each other.”
“Yeah, used to. We’re not living in the ‘used to’ anymore.” Gwynn batted the air between them. “Can we skip this topic? I had a blast hanging out with you—let’s not ruin it.”
Lainey grinned and retreated several steps. “I gotta run or I’ll be late for my eye appointment, but keep me posted, okay?” She turned and hurried up the sidewalk.
Gwynn rotated on her heels in the opposite direction, toward Plane & Knotty Carpentry. She had a painting of Gramps to finish … and a possible confrontation with Cash.
He dished on how Gwynn is actually Hadley.
She’s a means to his end.
When she remembers … he’ll ditch her.
Gwynn clapped her mittened hands to her ears, but Tessa’s words continued to clang in her head. Had Gwynn misread Cash to such an extent? When he looked at her … talked with her … when he’d held her at the dance …when he’d kissed her … he’d seemed genuine. Had he merely been leading her on? Did he still harbor resentment toward her, despite his insistence to the contrary?
Was he that good an actor?
She passed a box truck parked on the curb in front of the workshop, the Plane & Knotty’s logo painted on its side. The large barn doors had been opened and anchored to the outside wall, and she stepped into a half-empty showroom. Cash and Gramps worked together sliding a tall, narrow dresser onto a dolly.
“What’s going on?” she asked, tugging off her scarf.
Cash looked up and his expression brightened. “Hey, there.”
Gramps grunted. “I see how it is, appearing when the work is done.” He winked, dispelling any serious barb, and nodded at Cash. “I’ll finish bringing this out to the truck.”
Taking her hand, Cash led Gwynn to the back room where they’d worked the evening before. “I was hoping to see you before I left. Still haven’t gotten your phone number. I’m beginning to think you’re purposely withholding it from me.” He leaned back against the workbench and encircled her about the waist. His spicy scent followed.
She inhaled, plucking at a wooden button on his coat. How could she think rationally when standing this close to him? “You’re leaving? Where to?”
“Miles City. Remember Mark Hudson, the one who’s interested in my pieces? I’m bringing several to his shop today.”
“That’s a four-hour drive one way.”
“Yeah.” His thumbs moved up and down her lower back, sending fissures along her spine. “A high school buddy of mine lives there, so I’ll stay with him overnight and return tomorrow.”
She nodded, tracing the grain in his button with her fingernail. “That’s cool.”
Cash tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You okay? You seem … subdued.”
“A little out of sorts, I suppose.”
Cash is looking for a way to jog Hadley’s memory. Tessa’s words looped like a social media reel, but Gwynn couldn’t just “talk to him about it,” like Lainey suggested, when he was taking off in a few minutes.
“It’s because I came across too eager and presumptuous yesterday, isn’t it?” Cash asked. “I’m sorry. I was wrong to suggest you drop your current life in Boston simply because we reconnected. But I … care about you, and I don’t want to watch you run away again.”
“I’m not going to run away.”
Cash cupped her face, a line forming between his eyebrows. “I don’t want to watch you walk away, either. Or fly away. Or any kind of ‘away.’ God let our paths merge a second time, and at the risk of scaring you off”—he placed a tender kiss on her lips—“I’m praying He has more than friendship in mind for the two of us.”
“And my memories?”
His brow knotted further. “What about them?”
“Shouldn’t we wait until I remember what happened before we talk too much about the future?” She pulled from him to clear her head and straightened her peacoat. “I feel like I’m wandering around in a dream and can’t wake up.”
“You’ll figure things out in time. Your mind has protected you for so long, it probably needs extra coaxing before it can relax.”
When she remembers … he’ll ditch her. “But what if it doesn’t?”
Cash fisted a hand in his hair. “Why do you constantly look at things in a negative light? God wouldn’t have brought you back without intending to give you closure from the past.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “We never know God’s true intentions until long after the fact. And even then, how often do we understand His reasons?”
“About to intrude,” Gramps called from the front room. “Giving you fair warning in case you two are lip-locked.” He chuckled. “I was young once, too, you know.”
Cash pushed off from the workbench. “All clear, Gramps. Unfortunately,” he added on a mutter as he passed her. Gramps entered and collected some paperwork from his desk while Cash grabbed his wallet and keys.
“I gotta get going. We can talk more later. Here.” Cash unlocked his phone and handed it to her. “Add your number to my contacts. Service is spotty between Prospect and Miles City, but I’ll call once I get settled.”
“’Kay.” Gwynn’s fingers trembled as she created a new contact, blindly following the two men from the backroom, through the showroom, to the sidewalk outside. Tension had thickened between her and Cash like a can of old paint.
He checked the lock on the truck’s roller door, and Gramps clapped him on the shoulder. “Drive safe. See you when you get back.”
Gwynn returned his phone with a tight smile, and Cash bent down and kissed her. “Talk to you tonight.”
“What if I regain my memories but we never find the money?” The words tumbled from her lips, and his jaw bunched, but she pressed further. “The love of that money killed my parents and your dad. Maybe we let it go.”
Cash shook his head. “I won’t accept that. It belonged to Dad, and he would’ve wanted his kids to benefit from it. My sister deserves to go to college.”
“But—”
“Hadley, I need to get on the road. You’ll remember, okay? Stop worrying.” With a curt nod, Cash hopped into the truck and started the engine.
As he pulled away from the curb, she hugged her arms and whispered, “The name is Gwynn.”
Chewing on her bottom lip, she walked back into the barn. Who or what did Cash care about? Gwynn in the present? Hadley from the past? Tessa? Or was his heart solely fixed on reclaiming that money?
She stared at Gramps’s desk as the elderly man rummaged in the scrap bin by the corner, and her inner pinball game recommenced.
There was one way to find the answer.