“Harlan was smarter than to drop a treasure map in with the utensils.” Sam’s full beard covered his frown, but his voice remained hopeful. “Keep looking, Abby. It’s certain to show up.”
Ilene laughed. “You two have been arguing over that map’s existence since before my oldest was born.”
“Longer than that.” Boone nudged his elbow into Sam’s side. “We argued with Harlan in grade school. Always boasted to anyone who’d listen that we’d discover that missing treasure together.”
Abby pictured the trio of boys, devising their treasure-hunt adventure. That one Christmas she’d spent in Wisconsin, she’d had an adventure with her cousins. She touched her stomach. She wanted her child to have as many backyard adventures as could be imagined. And the same deep friendships and connections shared as her grandparents had had. “Did you look for the treasure?”
Her own fingers tingled. The urge to tear through the boxes for an old treasure map was very tempting. The dreamer inside her stirred. But she’d vowed to keep her feet on the ground and her head out of the clouds. She’d leave the dreaming to her baby. And, for now, let herself be enchanted by the story and another link to her grandfather.
“More than one summer we set up camp at Eagle Run River and searched.” Sam chuckled. “Never did find any gold or silver coins.”
“But we did discover all the places you can get poison ivy. Some aren’t pleasant.” Boone plucked up a spoon from the box and tapped it against his palm, recalling more memories. “We also found the best rocks for skipping across the lake. And located the best hidden fishing spots within county lines.”
“Grandpa Harlan told me Sam skipped the rocks the farthest.” Abby smiled, picturing her grandfather detailing one of their excursions. “Boone caught the biggest fish. And Grandpa made the biggest fires.”
Boone chuckled. “That was because he made the best s’mores.”
“And cooked the fish to perfection over that same fire.” Sam’s voice was wistful.
“You boys did all that without a treasure map?” Ilene wrapped her arm around Boone’s waist. “Sounds like you got sidetracked being boys.”
“The map isn’t essential.” Boone pointed the spoon to his forehead. “What we need for a proper treasure hunt is already up here.”
Sam held a large serving spoon up to the light. “Our grandparents and the ones before them passed on the tale of how the McKenzie sisters bested the Herring Gang outlaws.”
“Grandpa Harlan never mentioned the McKenzie sisters or the Herring Gang.” Tess glanced at Abby. Her forehead creased.
Abby nodded. She and her grandparents had been pen pals since Abby had learned to write. She had their letters in several shoeboxes in her room upstairs. She’d have remembered tales about a buried treasure, sisters and outlaws.
Tess asked Sam, “Can you tell us?”
Abby stilled. There was nothing wrong with hearing the full story. She was curious. But it hardly meant she would launch her own treasure hunt or imagine being the one to discover it. Same as she was drawn to Wes. She wasn’t imagining there was anything more between them than what they had. Friendship. Abby clenched several spoons as if they were responsible for stirring her feelings into a jumbled mess.
“Tess is a librarian. If there’s a record of the robberies or any written information about the Herring Gang, she’ll locate it.” Abby grinned at her cousin. “She’s the best there is at historical research.”
Both Boone and Sam considered Tess.
“Is that so?” Boone said. “Then, we’ll definitely want to tell you this tale.”
“But it’s best told around the fire.” Sam held up his hands and slanted his gaze toward Ilene. “With Boone’s smoked brisket and my famous baked beans.”
Boone nodded. “And bourbon cherry cobbler for dessert.”
“I suppose you’ll be wanting homemade ice cream too.” Ilene’s put-upon tone crumbled when she affectionately squeezed Boone’s shoulder.
“If it isn’t too much trouble.” Sam’s teeth appeared, hinting at his wide smile. “We sure do like how the warm cobbler melts the ice cream to the right temperature.”
“And where might we be having this fireside chat?” Ilene asked.
“My place. Tomorrow night. The bar is closed, anyway.” Boone chuckled. “You can meet our new arrivals. A pretty American paint mare and her foal. They’re settling in nicely with Wes’s guidance.”
Wes worked with horse rescues? Another layer. Another glimpse at the good guy within. Another reason he unsettled her. But only if she continued to let him.
Sam rubbed his hands together. “Now that we’ve settled tomorrow’s evening plans, let’s discuss today’s work.”
Abby shot a questioning look at Tess. Her cousin shrugged and asked the others. “What did you have in mind?”
“We’re here to help you.” Sam inspected the storefront, then leaned toward Boone. “They certainly do need us, don’t they?”
“Desperately.” Boone’s whisper was more like an attention-grabbing alarm.
“We thought we’d clear out the alcoves and start with a completely clean slate.” Tess’s hands fluttered in front of her as if she’d lost their plan. “Then build the inventory from there.”
Boone rubbed his chin. Sam stroked his fingers through his beard.
Ilene nudged a box aside and set her basket on the counter. “It’s a start, as you say. And you have to start somewhere.”
Tess exhaled, and her shoulders relaxed.
“I’m in charge of deciding what to keep and what can be sold.” Abby waved to the lineup of boxes. “With help from the internet.”
“I can sort and identify.” Ilene walked around to Abby’s side of the counter. “My aunt loved antiquing. And I loved tagging along. I miss those weekends we spent together scouting out new towns and new finds.”
“That leaves the alcoves for us.” Boone motioned in their direction. “Lead the way, Tess.”
“There’s one slight problem.” Tess hesitated. “We have no lights in either of the alcoves. And the windows are blocked by furniture and boxes.”
“That’s a hazard for sure.” Boone hooked his fingers on his belt. “Can’t fix the lights without an extra-tall ladder.”
“We don’t have one,” Abby said.
“The Owl does.” Boone grinned. “Won’t take but a minute to get it.”
“Then, that’s our first task.” Sam slid a small bottle across the counter toward Abby and stage-whispered, “Take this. Make yourself a hot toddy this evening. It’s a cure for every ailment.”
“Abby can’t have that.” Ilene snatched the bottle from Sam. “She’s pregnant.”
“My great-nana had fourteen babies, and she’s the one taught who me how to blend the whiskey for her special toddy recipe.” Affection and admiration softened Sam’s words. He set his finger on his nose. “Nana taught me only patience and a very practiced nose would produce the most flavorful, most pure of whiskeys.”
“And how did that work out?” Abby asked.
“My grandson, Carter, took my basement-blended whiskey and turned it into a respectable distillery.” So much pride shone in Sam’s gaze that his eyes sparkled. “Our award-winning whiskeys are sold in stores around the country.”
Abby wanted her parents to mention her accomplishments with the same approval. She’d only ever wanted to make them proud. Her parents were leaving their mark on the world every day at excavations and historical sites. Abby couldn’t claim the same. At least not yet. Putting Three Springs on the map could change all that.
“It’s ginger and lemon tea for Abby.” Ilene slipped Sam’s miniature whiskey bottle in her purse and motioned to her wicker basket. “With homemade bagels, oatmeal banana muffins and glazed apple crumb bread.”
“That all sounds delicious.” Abby lifted the blue-chec
kered linen towel covering the baked goods. “I don’t know what to try first.”
“Can’t go wrong with one of these.” Sam grabbed a cinnamon raisin bagel from the basket. “Best kept secret in town—Ilene’s baked goods. And for everything else, it’ll all work itself out like whiskey aging in a barrel. It happens in its own good time.”
Abby didn’t have time to wait. She had only weeks to create and organize her event. And she still had no direction for what type. She picked up a banana muffin and peeled off the wrapper, searching for inspiration.
Sam and Boone left to retrieve the ladder. Tess and Ilene sampled everything in the basket. Minutes later, Boone shouted again from the entrance. “Look who we found coming to see you, Abby!”
Wes. Abby touched her braids and quickly wiped any crumbs from her face. Then reined herself in. She wasn’t a teenage girl waiting on her crush to wander into the store. She was a soon-to-be single mom. With an entirely too-full plate. And no room for a crush, even a harmless one she had well under control.
A tall, lanky guy with striking red hair arrived at the entrance. The only resemblance between him and Wes was his worn, scuffed boots. Trey Ramsey introduced himself to Abby, then greeted Ilene and Tess. Despite his boyish face and charm, Trey’s grip was firm and his voice deep.
Sam and Boone maneuvered the very tall ladder against the wall.
“Trey, son, you need to eat a muffin or slice of sweet bread.” Sam pointed to the basket. “I’ve seen people at the cemetery looking less dire than you are now.”
Ilene thrust a slice of apple bread at Trey.
Abby watched Trey shift from one foot to the other. He swallowed several times but never let his gaze settle on her.
“You should give it to her straight, son,” Boone advised.
Her. That was Abby for sure. No one else had their cars at Trey’s place. Abby straightened on the stool and waited.
Trey broke a piece of bread off, then set the napkin with the uneaten bread on the counter. “I’m sorry, Abby. But I have bad news.”
Abby reached for a piece of apple bread, needing something sweet to offset the sudden souring in her stomach. “How bad?”
Trey’s pinched face made it look like he was chewing a bite of rotten apple. “You’ll need to contact your insurance company to file a claim for a total loss on your convertible.”
“It’s a total loss...” Abby forgot the bread and gaped at Trey. There weren’t enough apples in the orchards to sweeten that news. “But it was just a flat tire.”
“Not just a flat tire.” Trey popped the bread into his mouth as if sharing his bad news had made him immensely hungry. He spoke around the bite. “You hit the pothole and the wheel bent. That in turn caused the frame of the car to bend.”
Boone stared at the muffin he held and shook his head. “There’s no coming back from a bent frame.”
“Now you can get a sensible car.” Sam finished his slice of apple cake and brushed the crumbs from his denim button-down shirt. “Something reliable and built for our country roads.”
“I need a new car.” Abby’s head spun. For the first time that morning she was glad she was sitting down. How was she supposed to afford so much new for herself and her baby?
“Trucks are good around here,” Boone suggested. “Almost hit two hundred thousand miles on my pickup’s odometer. Certainly made that to last.”
How long was Abby going to last in town? She had no place else to go. Her head spun faster. She had to last too.
“You can use my car,” Tess offered. “Anytime you need it.”
“Wes has a good, solid truck.” Boone polished off his muffin and wiped his hands together. “He can drive you wherever you have to go. That should solve everything.”
Nothing was close to being solved.
“Who am I driving where?” Wes stood in the doorway. His arms crossed over his chest. His expression impassive.
Abby wanted to sprint into his arms. And shout at him to get out. Get out of her thoughts. Get out of her head. Just get out until she could rid herself of the sudden rush of feelings inside her.
And Wes had only barely walked into the store.
But he wasn’t there to solve her problems. Or become her chauffeur. Or be her shoulder to lean on. Yet she wanted to slide her hand into Wes’s and ask him to reassure her. The last time someone had taken her hand like that, she’d been standing at her grandmother’s gravesite. Grandpa Harlan had taken her hand and had promised her that they would both be okay. He had passed away one year later. Abby convinced herself she was okay. Then and now.
She just had to keep her heart protected. Keep her focus on practical things like her responsibilities and priorities. Wes didn’t fit with either.
Wes crossed his arms over his chest and directed his frown at Boone and Sam. “Please don’t tell me either of you plans to climb that ladder.”
Boone grabbed the ladder. “Never you mind what I plan to do.”
“Dr. McCall told you to stay off ladders,” Wes warned.
“Dr. McCall suggested I stay off ladders.” Boone tipped his chin up and never released his hold on the ladder. “And I’m not on the ladder.”
“Yet,” Wes said.
Trey stepped between Boone and Sam, took the ladder from the gentlemen and leaned it against the opposite wall. Ilene thanked Trey, then pointed at Wes. “The ladder can wait. Wes, you’ll drive Abby wherever she needs to go.”
“I never said I needed to go anyplace,” Abby protested. Let alone with Wes. Besides, she refused to go anywhere with him until she could better manage her reaction to him. Once she found her inner discipline, all would be fine.
Wes’s composed voice drifted through the store like a cold breeze. “What happened?”
“Simple.” Boone tipped his head toward the auto mechanic. “Trey declared Abby’s car a total loss.”
“She needs a new one,” Sam chimed in. “Until she gets one, we need to drive her.”
“But Dr. McCall told me I can only drive during daylight.” Boone eyed Wes. “And I have to stay in town.”
Wes opened his mouth.
Sam cut him off. “That leaves you, Wes, to drive her.”
“Abby, let me know when you’ve talked to your insurance company. If you want to locate a new car, I’ve got people who can assist.” Trey grabbed a bagel and thanked Ilene. Then he buddy-punched Wes’s shoulder on his way out. “I’m getting back to my shop before Boone and Sam convince me to add taxi to my list of services.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Sam shouted to Trey. “You should consider it.”
Wes glanced at Abby. “Is there someplace you need to go?”
Not unless it was with the Wes from the bar yesterday. No, not even him. Then she’d forget her self-restraint and discover another layer. And then she’d want to learn even more about the man. And if she started to like Wes—really like him—her heart would start to want more. Her heart couldn’t be trusted. When it got swept away, she lost sight of what else was important. And she couldn’t afford to be anything but clear-eyed and levelheaded.
“Abby has a doctor’s appointment in Belleridge tomorrow morning,” Tess offered.
Boone pointed at Wes. “Didn’t you mention you needed to pick up supplies from there?”
Wes’s nod was the slightest shift of his head. As if he disliked the idea of driving Abby as much as she disliked riding with him.
Sam’s smile lifted his handlebar mustache. “Looks like Wes can drive you, Abby.”
“That’s not necessary.” Really not necessary. Abby’s gaze locked on her cousin’s. “Tess said I could use her car.”
“Trey has it scheduled for maintenance tomorrow.” Tess tucked her hair behind her ear. “The engine was making a strange knocking noise before you got here. You should probably ride with Wes.”
No, she probably should not. “I can change my doctor’s appointment.”
“Not after the incident yesterday in the bar.” Boone shook his head.
“I agree with Boone,” Tess said. “You shouldn’t wait to see the doctor.”
Even Ilene stopped sorting through the spoons to nod in Abby’s direction.
“That wasn’t an incident.” Abby looked to Wes for backup.
He stepped over to the counter and peered inside Ilene’s bakery basket. “What time is your appointment?”
Abby blinked. “Nine o’clock.”
“I’ll pick you up at eight fifteen.” He chose a muffin and twisted off the top.
“That’s settled.” Boone removed his cowboy hat, ruffled his hair, then resettled the hat on his head. “Now, let’s get going in here. We’ve a lot to do.”
Wes intercepted Boone before the older man could reach for the ladder. He glanced at Tess. “What are we doing with this?”
“You don’t have to help.” Abby skirted around the counter toward Wes and the ladder. “I’m sure you have other business to tend to.”
“If you tell me what to do, I can get it done and move on with what I need to do.” Wes had moved quickly and stealthily into Abby’s personal space.
“We’re changing out the light bulbs in the back room and the alcoves.” Abby set her hands on her hips and stared at Wes. Denying that she wanted to move closer. Arguing that she was in full control of her feelings. “We can’t see very well, and it’s a hazard.”
Wes picked up the ladder and headed into the storeroom. Abby followed, close enough that she winced when he banged his elbow on a shelf. He remained silent and opened the ladder beneath one of the overhead lights.
“Now that you’ve set up the ladder, I’m sure we can handle it from here.” Surely, she could handle light bulbs more efficiently than she was handling her being around Wes.
Wes rested an arm on the ladder and eyed her. His gaze was shadowed, but his tone was blunt. “How many 1940s-era electrical boxes have you seen, let alone repaired?”
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