Hmm. Not bad. He looked only partially weird.
Never married, lived twenty miles away, and appeared to have all his teeth. So far that checked some significant boxes for what I was looking for in a date for Jasmine’s wedding. Lincoln’s interests included true crime podcasts, concerts, and gourmet dining. His bio stated he’d recently had his heart broken but had learned a lot from it. Aw, I could appreciate that. In my last breakup I’d learned a lot too. I learned I still wanted Ned to wake up with amnesia, naked in a poison ivy patch.
I swapped a few pleasantries with this Lincoln, and within minutes, I had an offer for a date.
Slow down there, Linc.This was moving way too fast.
The whole day had really worn me down. We’d seen six new clients at the noon appointment, and one man instantly matched himself with Lyle, the three-year-old quarter horse. Within fifteen minutes of the pairing, the veteran broke into sobs and cried for the first time in two decades. That kind of quick breakthrough was incredibly rare and took Ernie and me both by surprise. Ernie had handled the rest of the session while I’d provided the former marine some space and let him talk until we were both wrung out.
The night breeze flitted over my freshly showered skin as I lazily reclined on my swing. Olivia had helped me pick out a handful of pillows and a cover for the mattress. My stylish sister said it upped my porch’s sophistication level, but I said it was the comfy quotient that suited me most.
I was just about to tell Lincoln McNamara I regrettably declined his offer to meet for dinner when I heard a rustling in the grass. I’d lived at the cottage for a few days now, and I had come to know the difference in the sound of human commotion or animal.
This was human.
I scanned the dark perimeter, my senses on alert. While it was incredibly peaceful out here in the country, it could also be isolating to the point of creepy as well.
“Hello?” I called.
The sound of grass crunching beneath feet came again, and I swiftly stood, grabbing a pillow like a weapon. Maybe I couldn’t take someone out with a decorative bundle of feathers, but I would go down trying.
“I know you’re out there,” I yelled, as if that were an intimidating deterrent.
Suddenly, one face appeared.
Then a second.
My breath wheezed out in relief when the girls fully stepped into the light. There, holding hands and standing in my knockout roses, were Ava and Poppy. In one hand, Ava held her sister by the wrist. In the other, a rolling suitcase.
“We’re just passing through.” Ava crossed my yard and didn’t bother making eye contact. Her sister didn’t get the memo to ignore me and gave a giant wave.
My heart still hammering in panicked bursts, I discreetly picked up my phone. I considered not texting Miller, who I’d yet to see after our bookshop argument, but that would’ve been cruel. I would bet every cent and degree I possessed that Miller had no idea where his nieces were.
Girls are here.
Setting my phone down, I walked to the edge of my porch. “Nice night for a walk. Where are you ladies headed?”
Ava stopped and put her hand on the hip of her shorts. “Bentonville.”
“I see.” That was a twenty-minute commute at best—in a car. “Don’t you think it would be easier to get there by way of the road?”
“We’re taking a shortcut,” Poppy answered proudly.
“Bentonville is that way.” I pointed in the opposite direction. “And probably a couple of hours by foot.” I leaned against a porch post. “That is, if you can make it past the bulls in the pasture.” Twin expressions of worry stared back at me. “But you probably can.”
“Ava says we can’t stay here anymore.” Poppy chewed on a thumbnail and shouldered off a bug.
“Why is that?”
“’Cause Uncle Miller won’t let Ava go to her party.”
Ava said nothing, just looked off into the dark horizon.
“Well.” I did a quick evaluation of my favorite therapy tools and selected my very best one. “It’s a long walk to Bentonville, so you girls should probably get a snack before you go.”
Poppy clapped her hands together, finding that to be the most brilliant idea. “Yeah!”
Ava adjusted her grip on the suitcase handle, struggling with indecision. “We don’t have time.”
