Will raised an eyebrow. “Mysterious thing?”
“She doesn’t talk. I mean, of course she talks but she never chatters. Sometimes she’s not hard to talk to but other times she’s so close-mouthed it’s like pulling teeth to get her to say anything. When we were in the closet—”
“Hold on. What closet?”
“During the tornado warning. Jedidiah was still at work so when the sirens sounded we had to go into the closet under the stairs.”
“That must have been terrible,” Will said dryly.
Trevor grinned. “She talked then. We both did. It’s the most she’s talked to me before…or since either,” he added, frowning. “But hell, we were trapped in there for over an hour.”
“You like her.”
“Of course I like her.”
“No, I mean youreallylike her.”
Damn it, he knew that. Not that it mattered. “No I don’t.” He insisted. “She works for me.”
“So? You need to get over what’s-her-name.”
Will knew perfectly well what her name was, but neither he nor Mel had ever liked her. They’d tried, and had never been rude to her, but he couldn’t say the same about Raquel’s treatment of his two oldest friends. That alone should have set off warning bells.
His friends thought he had a lucky escape when he and Raquel broke up. “I am over her. It’s not like I’ve been a monk since we broke up.” Almost maybe, but not quite.
Will shrugged. “If you say so.”
A couple came into the tent and began looking around.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Trevor said, relieved at being able to quit that conversation. He rose and said, “Good luck.”
“Thanks. Be sure and check out Alexis March’s glassworks.”
“Will do.” Maybe he’d go over to the art gallery and check out Gabe Walker’s stuff first.
Right, you want to see his art. You’re just hoping Jedidiah will be there.
*
Jedidiah’s sister-in-law Chantelwas holding down the fort at the Wild Horse art gallery on the day of the artisans’ fair. “What happened to Gabe and Marla?” Jedidiah asked, seeing no one else around. Marla Reynolds, who owned the place, was the main force behind the fair. She showcased a lot of Gabe’s work, along with the work of a few other notable artists.
“Thank God you came in,” Chantel said. “They left me in charge while they’re both out—doing who knows what, by the way—and I’ve got to pee.” She patted her large, pregnant stomach. “The kid loves to hang out on my bladder. Can you watch things for a minute?” She rushed out of the room without waiting for an answer.
Jedidiah hoped no one came in and if they did, she sure as hell hoped they didn’t want to buy anything since she had no idea what anything cost and Marla didn’t keep prices in obvious sight.
Luckily, all was quiet until Chantel returned. “Do you mean to tell me you can’t even leave the room long enough to pee? This is Whiskey River. No one’s going to steal anything. Are they?”
“No one from around here. But there are people from all over the state here and who knows what they might do? It would be just my luck for someone to come in and take some priceless whatchamacallit while I’m gone. Gabe probably wouldn’t care but Marla would have a hissy fit.”
“I remember when you wouldn’t have spit on Marla if she was on fire. Now she’s leaving you in charge of the gallery? What happened?” Marla had once been Gabe’s fiancée before he and Chantel had gotten together.
“We’re not besties but she’s okay. Now that she’s not hitting on my husband.”
Jedidiah laughed. “That would make friendship hard. Is Angel watching Fallen Angels?”
“She is. You should stop by and talk to her today. She’ll be there until one and then she’s trading off with our assistant so she can see the fair.”
“I’ll do that.”
