“Yeah, figured as much,” I said, chewing my lip.
“Heard you took some baked goods over there,” he added, eyeing me like I was under investigation.
“Don’t read into it, little brother. I was just doing a nice deed, knowing the program was running today,” I assured.
“Okay,” he answered like he didn’t mean anything by it.
By half past six, I was getting ready to close the shop. Maya was packaging all the items that were left over from the day. I noticed Harmony walking down Main Street toward the floral shop. She had her head held high and she was walking with a quiet confidence that looked earned. That brought a smile to my face as Maya walked up behind me and took a peek at what I was looking at.
“It must be hard for her to be back here. Everyone’s talking,” she said.
“People like to talk, but they don’t know her. She isn’t like her family,” I replied, feeling the need to defend her. Not that Harmony needed me to. She could take care of herself.
“I can tell. Beneath her hard edges is a soft heart. A good person. I can tell, I have women’s intuition,” she said.
That made me laugh. “You aren’t wrong but enough analyzing other people.”
Maya laughed and grabbed her purse. “Have a good night, boss. Hope you don’t wait too long to make a move. A good woman is hard to find. Someone else might snatch her up.”
“Go home, Maya,” I joked.
That made Maya laugh more as she left through the front door.
At home, Dad was on the front porch going through Phoenix’s tasting notes. He didn’t say much. “How was the day?” he asked.
“Usual. Nothing special. Harmony is volunteering with the at-risk kids at the community center,” I said.
My dad watched me with his dark eagle eyes. “You okay with her being back? I know it’s been a long time.”
“You asked me that when she came home last winter,” I mention.
“That was when trouble was knocking on her doorstep. She didn’t have anywhere to go,” he reminded.
“And I was fine then too. Hell, you didn’t ask me when you invited her to spend the night in our house,” I retorted. I wasn’t angry, I just didn’t like him pushing me on the topic.
“She had nowhere to go back then,” he stated the obvious.
“I’m not complaining now and I wasn’t complaining then,” I assured.
“Okay,” he said in a tone like he didn’t believe me. Maybe I didn’t believe myself. She was the one who got away. At least, that’s how I always felt. I’d never had that kind of closeness with a woman since. Sure, I had my share of entertaining a lady for the night but nothing ever stuck, and maybe that was for the best.
I sorted through mail, ate a late dinner, and looked over two contractor emails Bean forwarded. I flagged both messages and shut the laptop. Building a house would be a good distraction for me.
Before bed, I checked my phone.
Unknown number:Tell your friend she’s not better than family.I didn’t answer. I saved the number, named itDo Not Reply, and let the screen go black.
From the upstairs windows I watched the frost settle over the orchard. You couldn’t fix a past you didn’t break. You could decide who you were now. She was doing that. I could too. I blinked the thought away and headed to the shower, allowing the warm water to settle over me. After I headed to my room and slipped on a pair of flannel pants. I set my alarm, killed the lights and let the dark do its job. I’d need to tell Becket aboutthat text message tomorrow. I wished Harmony’s family would just let her be, but that seemed like too much to ask. I guess that was how it was with crime families. Hell, my own family was always on my case, so why would her family be different? I know it wasn’t the same because mine did it from love and hers did it from loyalty. At some point they needed to accept the decisions we made. But what would it take for Harmony’s family to truly let her go? I didn’t have the answer to that. I just hoped the fallout would be smooth.
CHAPTER 6
Harmony
Two days later, I ran before the town woke up, which was a relief because the snide comments from people in town were getting to me. I knew I was coming home to their fiery attitudes. I’d just need to work harder to change their minds because, at the end of the day, Val-Du-Lys still felt like home. The river trail was empty at 6:00 a.m., just my shoes on packed dirt and my breath. Fog sat low over the water. I passed the break in the trees that dropped to the old dock and didn’t plan to look. My head did it anyway. When I was a kid, my father took us down there to “learn the business.” Sometimes it was pills hidden in motor parts. Sometimes it was people who wanted to be smuggled across the Canadian border into the U.S. Trucks idled. Men kept their faces turned. I held my mother’s picnic cooler while cash moved. My father would sayfamily firstand touch my cheek like it was a blessing, but it was really a rule. I picked up my pace until the dock was behind me and the tightness in my chest was just from running.
At the overlook, I stopped to stretch. The mill. The steeple. Main Street still dark. A gull skimmed the water and yelled at nothing. I told the past to stay where I left it and jogged hometo shower. By eight I was in the shop. Cooler door opened. Fresh buckets. Eucalyptus first. If my hands were moving, my head didn’t have to. By nine, Sandy came in with a paper bag and her clipboard.
“Croissant for you. List for us,” she said. “Two birthdays. One I’m sorry. And a congrats that has to feel big without costing big.”
