The simple validation nearly undid Maggie’s fragile composure. She blinked rapidly, refusing to cry in a hardware store parking lot. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”
They walked together toward the store entrance, boots crunching on fresh snow. Maggie scanned the nearly empty lot out of habit. None of the cars looked familiar. Just a few pickup trucks dusted with white, a UPS delivery van, and an ancient Subaru with ski racks.
“Just so you know,” Johanna said as they reached the door, “I’ve got a Glock in my purse, and a rifle in my truck, and I know how to use them both.”
Maggie stumbled, catching herself on the handle. “You’re carrying a gun?”
“Walker would have my hide if I didn’t.” Johanna shrugged, as casual as if she’d mentioned carrying a pack of gum rather than a gun. “Solace is a small town, but it has its share of problems.”
“But it seems so idyllic.”
“It is for the most part, but there are a lot of bears, coyotes, and mountain lions. And an unfortunate amount of meth heads. I like to be prepared for anything.”
A bubble of genuine laughter rose in her throat. “Remind me never to piss you off.”
“You couldn’t if you tried.” Johanna pulled the door open. “Now let’s get you some gear that’ll actually keep you alive through January.”
Simms Hardware had the well-worn feel of a place that had served its community for generations. Wooden floors creaked underfoot. Shelves stretched to the ceiling, packed with everything from fishing tackle to chainsaw parts.
Johanna was nothing if not efficient. She grabbed a squeaky cart and filled it with thick wool socks, thermal underlayers, a pair of insulated Carhartt overalls, and a flannel-lined canvas jacket that looked like it could stop bullets.
“These are the best winter work boots,” she said, hefting a pair of Danner’s with thick tread and reinforced toes. “Not cheap, but they’ll last forever if you take care of them.”
Maggie checked the price tag and winced. “Good thing Anson insisted I use his credit card.” Her bank account was feeling the effects of her eight-month hiatus earlier this year, and with her current extended leave from the network, she’d have to be careful with spending.
“Smart man. Keeping your financial trail hidden is half the battle with stalkers.” Johanna tossed a knit hat into the cart. “Oh, almost forgot! Walker asked me to pick up an order. I’ll be right back.” She walked over the counter along the back wall, where an older man with a salt-and-pepper beard was sorting through a stack of invoices.
Maggie wandered toward the work gloves display, comparing the options. Construction in Montana would require moreprotection than she was used to in Florida. She picked up a pair with reinforced palms, testing the flexibility.
As soon as Johanna was gone, a young man in a blue vest approached, his smile too bright, too eager.
“Excuse me?” His voice cracked slightly.
Her pulse kicked up a notch. Probably nothing. Just a bored kid stuck working retail in a small town.
Still, after Ghost’s call, every stranger felt like a potential threat.
Calm down.
Johanna was ten feet away.
Nothing was going to happen to her here.
She forced a smile and turned toward the clerk. He was barely out of his teens, with a lanky build he hadn’t grown into yet, and a crooked name tag that read, “Evan.” He stood a bit too close, practically vibrating with excitement.
“Oh my God, youareher.” His eyes went wide. “You’re Magnolia Rowe! FromMagnolia Builds. I thought so when you walked in, but—oh, wow. Wow, wow, wow. What are you doing here?”
Her smile froze in place. “I’m sorry, you must have me confused?—”
“No, it’s definitely you!” Evan’s voice rose an octave, drawing the attention of an older woman browsing hammers. “I’ve watched every episode like five times. The way you repurposed that old barn wood into the statement wall in season three? Pure genius. And when you showed that homeowner how to install their own kitchen backsplash? I tried it in my mom’s kitchen. It didn’t turn out as good as yours, but still.”
She’d spent years cultivating this exact reaction—fans who felt like they knew her, who tried her techniques, who trusted her expertise. Normally, she’d be flattered. Engaged. But now,with Landry possibly tracking her, every interaction felt loaded with potential danger.
“Thank you,” she managed, glancing around for Johanna. “That’s very kind.”
“Wait till I tell my mom.” Evan fumbled for his phone. “Can I get a picture? Nobody’s going to believe Magnolia Rowe was in our store. In Solace, Montana, of all places!”
A photo. That could be shared online. Tagged with her location. Seen by Landry.
