Chapter 4
Beau
Noelle was trapped in Willow Grove.
It was official now.
The part I needed to fix her car was on backorder; not just delayed, not stuck in shipping hell. It wasn’t “on the truck” like they always said when folks came in pissed. Nope…it was backordered.
And even if I could get the part, I wasn’t sure if I would be able to fix the car.
This thing…it was well and truly fucked.
The more I looked at it, the stranger it got, too; it was like someone had intentionally cut the radiator hose with something serrated, then glued it back together just to hold for another ten miles.
The crack in the radiator didn’t look like impact damage, either; it looked like a claw mark.
Not that it could possibly be a claw mark.
No animal could cut through metal like that.
I ran my hand down my jaw and stared at the damn thing, hood propped up in the morning light, engine still cold. Milo sat at my feet, tail twitching, ears pricked like he was waiting for the verdict.
Waiting for me to say, “Yes, she’s staying. Your new favorite person is sticking around.”
But instead I frowned and shook my head. “Don’t know…she might have to take a bus out of town.”
Milo whined, ducking his head and looking up at me through long lashes. I sighed and crouched down to rub behind his ears.
“I know, buddy,” I said. “I like her, too.”
I did like her…more than I wanted to admit. Even knowing what I knew about how this town operated, about Delilah’s predictions for which Ward brother was gonna get married off next, I’d fallen under her spell.
It had only been one day, but I was already buying Delilah’s bullshit.
My phone rang in my pocket and I pulled it out to see Delilah’s name, a picture of her extending her middle finger toward the camera. I swiped up to answer, bracing myself for whatever she was going to tell me.
“Mornin’, Delilah.”
“So she’s staying, right?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Don’t stall, Beau. I had a dream last night,” she said, with the kind of gravity that suggested she thought this was solid evidence. “There were sunflowers and a mechanic’s jumpsuit and someone whispering the word bride in Latin. It was either a vision or my subconscious bullying me.”
“Jesus,” I muttered. “You two got stoned?”
“I don’t need weed to have prophetic dreams, Beau.”
I didn’t respond to that. On the other line, a glass clinked and a cat meowed.
“So,” she continued. “What’s the damage?”
I sighed, leaning against the fender. “It’s not good. Hose was doctored…radiator’s cracked clean through. I checked every supplier in a hundred-mile radius and—”
“Let me guess,” Delilah interrupted. “It’ll be at least a week.”
“At minimum.”
There was a pause, filled with the soft clinking of something on her end—probably a spoon against a mug.
“She’s not gonna be happy,” I muttered.
“Nope,” Delilah agreed cheerfully. “But she’s not gonna leave, either.”
“I don’t want her to feel stuck.”
“She wouldn’t feel so stuck if you—” She paused, and I had the pleasure of guessing what the hell she was going to say. “Sorry, I think she’s awake.”
“And I’m sure she’d love the idea of you instructing me to do what I assume are some very inappropriate things.”
“I would never,” she said in mock offense. “I was going to say you could offer to show her around, be her unofficial tour guide for festival weekend. You know…be a normal human male with a functioning sense of charm.”
“That’s a tall order,” I scoffed.
“Okay,” she said. “Maybe you don’t have a functioning sense of charm, fair…but you have really big muscles. And a cute dog! Play to your strengths.”
I groaned and dragged a hand down my face. “Delilah, I’m not gonna flirt with a stranded woman like she’s some kind of cosmic mail-order bride. You’re on this whole fate thing, I know, but she could hop on the next bus out of here and I’d never see her again.”
“She’s not goin’ anywhere,” Delilah said.
“Why does it sound like you’re gonna tie her up and force her to marry me?”
“I don’t have to force her to do anything,” Delilah said. “I’m just sayin’…the town is not going to let her leave.”
I wanted to argue…but I’d seen a hell of a lot in the past year.
My brother’s wife had rolled into town entirely by accident and landed in his driveway, then they’d hosted a wedding/exorcism and claimed to have broken a curse by fucking in the wood.
Another brother had seen his dead fiancée’s ghost, and he and his girl seemed to have summoned the Holy Spirit to start up a church despite having once had a rattlesnake in his bed.
Shit around here was fuckin’ crazy.
“Morning, sunshine,” Delilah was saying—not to me, but with her hand over the receiver. “How’d you sleep?”
I heard a muffled voice—Noelle’s—then Delilah laughed. “Yeah, we’ve got really good weed around here. And yeah, it’s Beau on the phone.”
I waited, listening…wondering if I should hang up and avoid this whole situation—but then Delilah uncovered the receiver.
“She wants to talk to you,” she said.
“Alright,” I mumbled. “Put her on.”
There was a shuffle, a handoff, and then her voice crackled through the line—still a little raspy from sleep. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I echoed, straightening. “How you feelin’?”
There was a beat, like she was checking in with her body before answering. “Honestly? Not bad. A little groggy, I guess. Delilah fed me pizza and gave me something I’m still not sure was just weed.”
I snorted. “Just homegrown with a little bit of that local Willow Grove sparkle. You’ll get used to it.”
“I’ll get used to it…right,” Noelle said. She paused, and I could practically feel her drawing conclusions. “So…it’s going to take more than a week, then?”
I winced. “Yeah. Sorry. I know that’s not what you wanted to hear.”
She was quiet for a moment, but it didn’t feel like the angry kind of silence. More like she was doing math in her head, trying to figure out if staying in this weird little town was worth blowing up her schedule.
“Well,” she said finally, “guess I might as well do a field episode.”
I blinked. “What?”
“For the podcast. Whispers in the Dark,” she reminded me, like I hadn’t spent half the night replaying that conversation in my head.
“That festival’s still going on, right? I could get some footage, record a few man-on-the-street interviews, maybe corner a couple of true believers for fun.
Hell, I could probably get half a season’s worth of content out of just sitting on a porch downtown and letting people talk. ”
I let out a low whistle. “You’re really gonna stick it out?”
“I mean, I don’t exactly have a choice, do I?” she said, but her tone wasn’t bitter—just resigned in the way people got when they were already plotting five backup plans. “Might as well make the most of it. Who knows? Maybe your town’s monster will be my next viral clip.”
Even though I couldn’t see them, I knew Delilah was patting herself on the back right now—and it was confirmed for me when she suddenly chimed in, taking the phone back to put me on speaker.
“Beau, you could show her around town,” she said. “You don’t have anything else going on, right?”
Damn it, Delilah.
“Sure,” I said slowly, dragging the word out. “I can show her around.”
I was trying not to sound weird about it—like I wasn’t nervous as hell to spend a whole day with someone I barely knew but already kinda liked.
Noelle didn’t need to know how strange this place really was, or how often Delilah’s predictions had ended with one of my brothers saying “I do.” She didn’t need to hear about the church, or the ghosts, or whatever the hell had happened with Rhett and Willow in the woods.
She just needed a ride to the festival and maybe a stop for coffee. That was it.
Totally normal.
Not ominous at all.
“Cool,” Noelle said, her voice bright but a little uncertain. “I mean, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“No trouble,” I said quickly. “I’ve got the day.”
There was a short pause, the kind where it felt like we were both waiting to see if the other one would say more.
Then Delilah cut in again. “Perfect. So we’ll see you in thirty?”
“In thirty?” I repeated. “That’s—”
“Just in time for you to grab a seat at Mabel’s before the lunch rush!” she said. “I know, so you should hurry.”
I stared at the phone like it had personally betrayed me. Mabel’s Table on a festival day was the opposite of low-key. It was where everyone went…which meant half the town would see us together, and the other half would hear about it within the hour.
Delilah knew that. She’d planned it that way.
Of course she had.
“Alright,” I said finally. “See you in thirty.”
I ended the call and tucked my phone back in my pocket with a sigh. Milo let out a single bark, wagging his tail.
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. “You’re not the one who has to walk into town like you’re bringing a date to family dinner.”
I gave the radiator one last look—just enough to remind myself that yes, it really was that bad—and slammed the hood shut with a loud clunk. Then I went inside to change.
If I was going to be Delilah’s latest matchmaking pawn, I might as well put on a clean shirt.
Not because I wanted to impress Noelle Kinney.
Not at all.