Page 75 of Goode Tidings

Something was going on with Eden last night, but she wouldn't tell me what it was. She'd been quiet, which was unusual for her, but more concerning was the fact she did not tease me once. That woman has been teasing me since the first moment we met.

It's been bothering me all morning. I'd asked her last night if she was ok, and she'd said I'm good. I didn't want to press, not with Oliver sitting right there at the table with us. Otherwise, I would have. I don't like that something upset her. She doesn't have to share it with me, of course, but if it's something I can fix, I want to.

If it weren't for the big storm that's coming in this weekend, I'd be knocking on the back door and asking her to go for coffee. Maybe one of those toffee crunch lattes would put her in a good mood, and she'd open up to me.

Instead, I'm up on a ladder, cleaning gutters and downspouts, checking the roof and trimming tree branches that are too close to windows. Arizona weather forecasters are notorious for hyping up something that turns out to be nothing, but I can't take a chance with Eden and Oliver staying here.

After I'm done with those chores, I hop into my car and drive into Snowflake. My first stop is the hardware store, where I buy extra batteries for flashlights, a space heater, and the lock I realized I needed after I found Oliver with that ax. This reminds me that I haven't chopped firewood in a while, and probably should soon. There is nothing better than waiting out a storm in front of a big fire.

If the storm really is as big as they claim it will be, I'll be stuck in my lakeside shanty waiting it out. But at least Eden and Oliver will be cozy and warm and safe in the cabin.

Tim is helping out another customer when I walk in, but he sends me a wave and his grandson helps me out at the register. I'm nearly to the door when a voice behind me yells out, "You treating Eden right?"

I stop. Turn around. Everyone in the hardware store, which is really only eight people, stare at me. "Obviously. But I told you we're only friends."

Tim blows a childlike raspberry. "Sure you are."

Someone chuckles. I'm not sure who.

Fucking small towns.

Next, I stop into the grocery store, along with everybody else who lives in Snowflake. The place is a zoo. I grab bags of oranges, apples, and pears, and a random assortment of canned soups. Even if I lose power, I can plug the microwave into the generator.

I still have my doubts about the storm being as bad as they say it's going to be, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared.

My third and final stop is the coffee shop, where I order my usual flat white. "Can I get a toffee crunch latte, also?" Today I'll return the favor and be the one delivering coffee to Eden.

"Is there a chance that coffee is for me?"

A smile instantly parks itself on my face at the sound of that voice. I turn around. Eden stands there, wearing another one of her cute sweaters. And the jeans, of course. "Maybe. Maybe not. I know this woman who likes them. Claims they're the best. I thought I'd see what all the fuss is about."

"She has good taste," Eden says, stepping around me and up to the counter to order. She opens her mouth, but I stop her with a hand on her wrist.

"It's for you," I say. "I was going to bring it to you at home."

Home. Funny how I don't differentiate whose home it is.

She grins slyly at me. "I know. I was going to order something sweet for Oliver." She whips back around to order while I collect our drinks from the pick up counter. Eden meets me there, a white paper bag in her grasp. Something about her still feels slightly off today. Her usual spark is missing, and damn if I don't miss being casually teased by her.

"What did you choose?" I try to peek into the bag, but she clutches it to her chest and turns away.

"A secret?" I raise my brows.

"Maybe."

She takes the latte from me, my gaze on her as she sips it. My mind is working through what might have upset her. This woman quit her job and didn't grieve it, and she handles Justin's idiot behavior with ease. I'm at a loss for what could be troubling her, and I'm not certain how to ask. "You've had a couple of those lately," I say, before I think better of it.

Her eyes flick up to me. "What?"

"Secrets."

The comment earns me a look. She takes a sip and shakes off my observation. "What are you talking about?"

I motion toward an empty table, and even though we settle down there, I'm not truly settled. "Last night," I say, keeping my voice low. "Something was obviously bothering you. Was it something I did?" Not only have I been worried about what has upset Eden, but I've been concerned it was me who upset her. Did I miss something important?

She lets out a small breath, almost a laugh, but it doesn’t land the way it should. "You? No. Not directly."

Not directly doesn’t help.