“Uh, near Chilliwack Mountain Road.”
“I’m going to head over to the fudge stand. If I buy enough to satisfy myself, then I can get some for you as well.” Damien rubbed his flat stomach. “I’m liking this homemade-gift thing.”
“Yeah.” Anderson continued to hold my gaze.
“Oh, there’s a guy who sells the most amazing pumpkin pies. And another guy who sells sparkling apple cider.” I considered. “You said you have daughters?”
“Three between the two of us.” Damien grinned. “Making me grayer by the minute.” His eyes showed real warmth and affection.
“Well, my friend Henry makes glass fairy figurines. They’re…unique. Maybe not for older teenagers, though.”
“We’re looking for unique gifts. Not everything has to be practical.” His grin turned pensive. “Our girls have just about anything they could need—they’re really lucky. We all are. That’s one of the reasons we’re going with handmade this year. Well, handmade by someone. We wanted to focus on the act of giving rather than the amount being spent. Your soaps are perfect.” He turned to Anderson. “I’ll meet up with you in a bit. I’m going to try to keep the other gifts a secret, and you’re the worst secret keeper ever.”
No, he’s not. He kept my secret all those years ago. Has likely kept them all this time—if he’s even thought about me.
Anderson grinned unrepentantly. “Is it my fault everyone comes to me?”
Damien’s laugh lines showed when he guffawed. “Oh, it’s good to see some things never change. You’ll survive Adele going to university. I’ll hate it if Paget or Sedona—or both—choose to move away. But I’ll survive.” He turned back to me. “Fairies, eh? I like the sound of that. You two get caught up.” He left.
And I wanted to speak to Anderson—if I could even find the words—but a line had formed, and I really needed the money.
As if understanding, he stood to the side.
Customer after customer came.
Still, he stayed close.
I thought I was about to get a breather when a woman with striking white-blonde hair and the most exquisite eyes I’d ever seen stepped forward. I’d have called them amber. They were definitely unique.
“Okay.” She grinned. “My friend Loriana told me about you, and I just have to grab a few bars. I promised something unique for my friends Tarah and Allie and they’re just going to die over these. So, uh, five? One lavender and you can pick the other scents.”
I couldn’t figure out how she went from naming two friends and came out with five, but I certainly wasn’t going to complain.
As I rang her up, she noticed Anderson. “Sheesh. You’re quiet. I find that a change.” She winked.
He grinned back.
She snapped her fingers. “Clay’s going to sell out of his pumpkin spice again this year if you don’t race over there. Felicia loves it.”
“How do you know what spices Shaw’s housekeeper uses?” He arched an eyebrow.
“Because she was talking to Remy at the grocery store and lamenting the lack of spice selection. Remy bought some of the pumpkin spice here last year.” Her brow furrowed. “Or at least I think that’s the order. Anyway, you know how this townis. Someone told me that they told Felicia, and that person suggested to me that it would make a good gift. I’m not close enough to Shaw or Damien to make the suggestion—”
I blinked. Chilliwack was about three times larger than Mission City, but I couldn’t fathom everyone here knew everyone else.
“Rielle, you’re a sweetheart.” Anderson squeezed her arm. “Yes, I’ll run over to see Clay. Do you know if Ashton’s with him?”
Rielle rolled her eyes. “Where you find one…”
“Right.” He pivoted his gaze to me. “I’ll be back. I promise.”
We’ll see. You said that once before…
Chapter Three
Anderson
“I’m down to my last fifteen jars.” Clay grinned. His eyes sparkled with pleasure, and his reddish-auburn hair shone in the light.
