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The January Cove Series Boxed Set Books 1-8

Page 75

by Rachel Hanna


  It had taken weeks for her to get to January Cove and get settled in. Wanting to save as much of her money as possible, she’d boarded a bus that took her to Savannah. She had sold her beat-up car back in New York and rolled that money into yet another beat-up car in Georgia when she arrived there, but January Cove was one of those towns where she rarely needed to drive.

  Instead, she found herself walking most places or riding the bike she’d picked up at the local thrift store. Sometimes, in her darker moments when she was thinking about Daniel, she would remember standing in his penthouse looking out over the city and wondering how she managed to get there.

  And then that life was gone in an instant.

  Still, she had fallen in love with her new home and the few new friends she’d met along the way. For the first couple of weeks, she’d stayed at a beautiful B&B called Addy’s Inn. There, she’d met the proprietors, Addison and Clay, and they were amazing people with a beautiful baby girl.

  She’d also met Rebecca who ran the coffee shop called Jolt. She spent a lot of her off time there, enjoying some of the best coffee she’d ever tasted.

  One of her favorite people she’d met was actually her boss. Her name was Elda Sue Myers, and she was about as old as the town itself.

  Elda had run an ad for a store manager right around the time Paige had arrived in January Cove. She was an elderly woman, very frail and kind, and she had lived in the area for most of her life. In fact, her grandfather and father had run a large plantation near Savannah where she’d grown up and worked until she was married.

  Paige was worried about Elda, though. Her memory was starting to fail her, and she’d kept her from falling more than once at the store. Elda refused to “stay home and rot”, as she so eloquently put it. In her mid nineties, she refused to retire and came to The Cove most days.

  All of the customers adored her, of course. She’d known many of the adults since they were babies themselves. Elda had never had children of her own and never married, instead considering the children of January Cove to be her own.

  The closest relative she had was a great nephew in Colorado and maybe some distant cousins. Everyone she’d loved, including her sisters, had all passed away.

  But Elda had taken her in as if she’d lived in January Cove her whole life too. She’d helped her learn how to cook some Southern meals, taught her about January Cove’s history and shown her compassion at a time she needed it most.

  It had only been four months. Four months since she lost Daniel. Four months and a few days since she’d last felt his touch, kissed his lips, shared the planet with him.

  Getting over him was a work in progress; two steps forward and sometimes ten steps back.

  For the first month, she allowed herself to cry through her morning shower and her evening bath. Then she’d cut it down to just her morning shower for the second month. Now, she didn’t feel like crying anymore. Sometimes she worried that her tear ducts were dried up or that she needed to be treated for dehydration. Until Daniel had died, she never knew someone could cry that much and survive.

  But she was surviving.

  She was actually starting to look ahead. Renting a house was a big step, but she knew it was something she had to do. Living at the B&B for a few weeks had been nice, but she wanted her own space and now she had it. It had been a relief to learn she could afford the place without dipping into her savings and without getting a roommate.

  The hardest part of losing Daniel had been not getting to say a proper goodbye. She’d always heard that funerals were for the living, and she’d found that to be so true in her case.

  Having her own memorial with Sandi at the shore had helped a little, but she had just wanted to see Daniel one more time. She had no idea if he was cremated or buried, what songs were sung at his service or how many people showed up.

  Madeline had said it was going to be private, and it must have been because Paige had scoured every square inch of Google looking for information without any luck. She had even called Sandi and made her confront Hampton at a wine tasting, asking him if Daniel was really gone.

  Of course, Hampton had ushered Sandi into a hallway and looked at her as if she was crazy. Then he threatened to call the cops on her, and Sandi bolted.

  Now, thousands of miles away, Paige had to let Daniel go. She couldn’t change the past, but she could build a future, and that was what he would want for her.

  “Knock knock,” Elda said from the back office as she used her walker to maneuver herself to the front of the small bookstore. It was a cramped place, and Paige worried she would fall again.

  “Miss Elda,” she said, “what are you still doing here?”

  “This is my home, sweetie.”

  “No. Your home is on Broad Street, and I’m taking you there right now.” Paige smiled at her and then kissed her cheek.

  She helped Elda to the door and turned off the lights behind them as she locked up. Most days, Elda walked the block to her home before dinnertime, but she’d stuck around tonight for some reason. Paige wasn’t about to let her walk home in the dark alone, although January Cove had virtually no crime.

  They pulled into her driveway, and Paige walked around to help Elda out of her small car.

  “Come on, Miss Elda. I’ll walk you to the door.”

  Elda reached up and took her hand as Paige opened up her walker. She wondered how long the old woman could continue living alone like this. Her hands were tiny, the thick blue veins covering most of her olive skin, a sure sign of her Cherokee Indian heritage.

  As they neared the porch, Paige saw someone standing there. It was already dark out, the evening casting a dark shadow over Elda’s porch.

  “Stay here,” she whispered to Elda, who nodded without saying a word. Paige reached into her purse and pulled out out her small handheld stun gun. She’d bought it when she first moved to New York, but she’d never had a chance to use it. Apparently, tonight was the night.

  She walked quietly up the stairs and noticed the guy was turned toward the front window. He appeared to be trying to break in by the way he was leaned down looking through the glass. She quickly made note of his description. Dark hoodie pulled over his head. Dark wash jeans. Black boots. Once she shocked him, she would take a picture of him for the police, she decided.

  As she walked up the last step, it creaked and caused him to startle. He turned quickly and took a step toward her, so she pushed the button on the stun gun and pressed it into his stomach. The jolt sent him backward, and he fell into the bushes off the other side of the porch.

  “Ouch! What the hell?” he yelled, holding his stomach.

  “Well, it serves you right for trying to rob an old woman!” she yelled back.

  “What?”

  “Oh dear,” she heard Elda say from behind her. Elda was standing on the porch, somehow managing to get up the steps with her walker. Her hand was over her mouth and her eyes were as big as saucers.

  “Miss Elda, stand back,” Paige said, ready to taze him again if needed.

  The guy started to climb his way out of the bushes.

  “Stay back! I’m warning you…”

  “Aunt Elda, help me out here!” the guy yelled, holding his hands up as he stood.

  “Aunt Elda?” Paige was totally confused.

  Elda chuckled softly. “Sorry, dear. This is my friend, Paige,” she said to the man.

  “This is your great nephew?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was coming.” Elda walked toward the front door and proceeded to unlock it while Paige just stood there stunned. Well, not as stunned as her great nephew seemed to be.

  Elda walked into the house alone and started turning on the lights while Paige continued standing on the porch. She finally turned to the man who was rubbing his hand across his stomach where she’d hit him with the stun gun.

  “Sorry about that,” she mumbled. “But you really should’ve told her you were coming.” She could barely see his face i
n the darkness, just the contour of it in the dim light of the porch lamp.

  “I did,” he whispered as he came closer. “She’s known for a week now. We spoke on the phone twice.”

  Paige sighed. “Her memory is fading fast. I’m the manager of her bookstore, and I’ve noticed a lot of issues lately.”

  “Well, at least I don’t have to worry about her physical safety, I guess,” he said. He wasn’t laughing, though. Instead, he walked around her and into the house without another word.

  “Goodnight, Miss Elda!” Paige called from the doorway as she turned to go back to her car, trying to get out of there as quickly as possible.

  “Nonsense! Come inside for some coffee,” Elda said, pulling her arm toward the house. If there was one thing Paige had learned while working at the bookstore, it was that you didn’t say no to Elda.

  Paige followed her inside and walked to the kitchen to start the pot of coffee. The old woman was great about inviting her in, but Paige knew she’d have to make the coffee herself.

  She didn’t see the mystery nephew once she walked into the house, but she could see light coming from under the bathroom door and assumed he was in there.

  “Listen, Miss Elda, I’ll start the coffee and head out. I’m really tired, and you need some time with your nephew…”

  “Please stay. Just for a little while?”

  Paige smiled and nodded, unable to say no to the woman who’d practically taken her in as a granddaughter these last couple of months.

  “Okay, but just for a bit.”

  Elda turned to see her nephew coming into the kitchen. He’d removed the dark hoodie so Paige could see his face now, and the sight of him sent a warm tingle up her spine. He definitely didn’t look like the ax murderer she’d envisioned on the porch.

  He had sun tinged brown hair and a strong jawline with just a hint of stubble. His eyes were light colored - maybe blue - and he had the beginnings of laugh lines around his mouth. He was a rougher looking man than the ones she’d known in the city, or even in January Cove so far. His hands looked well used, and his jeans had faint mud stains on the knees. The black boots he wore were weathered and scuffed, and his arms were lean yet muscular.

  “Hello?” she heard the guy say. Was he talking to her? She looked up at his face and he smirked. “My eyes are up here, by the way.”

  “What?” she said as Elda walked out of the kitchen toward her bedroom.

  “I said my name is Brett. And you are?”

  “Oh. Paige. Paige Emerson.”

  “Nice to meet you.” He reached out to shake her hand, and she felt butterflies. What the heck? She reached out and took his hand, remembering to shake his hand with strength like she’d learned from Daniel. Show people you mean business.

  “You’ve got quite the grip,” he said, pulling his hand back and rubbing it as if she’d hurt him. And then she noticed his smile. Crooked, sexy, sarcastic.

  “For a woman, you mean?”

  He laughed as Elda walked back into the room. She hugged him tightly and then went up on her tip toes to kiss him on the cheek. She was a tiny, frail woman, and Brett towered above her with his broad chest and wide shoulders. He looked like a real life cowboy standing there, even without the requisite hat.

  Paige could easily tell how much Elda loved him, and he definitely loved her too. His whole demeanor changed as soon as she entered the room.

  “Isn’t he handsome?” She reached one of her tiny hands up and rubbed his cheek. “Looks like his father.”

  “So how are you related exactly?” Paige asked, pulling three coffee mugs from the cabinet.

  “My sister, Jean, and her husband had a son name Randy. Brett is Randy’s son. And he has followed in his father’s footsteps,” she said, putting her arm around him.

  “Oh yeah? How’s that?” Paige poured the coffee and slid it across the breakfast bar. Elda sat down at the kitchen table and Brett carried the cups there since it was easier for her to get in and out of those chairs than the high bar stools.

  “He’s a cowboy.”

  Paige almost spit out her coffee as she sat down. “A cowboy?”

  Brett started laughing and rubbed Elda’s hand. “I’m not a cowboy, Aunt Elda. I run a ranch.”

  “Same thing.” She sipped her coffee like the Southern lady she was and smiled as she cut her eyes at Paige. What was she up to? “Paige, do you like cowboys?”

  Oh. That was what she was up to.

  “Miss Elda…”

  “Aunt Elda…”

  They looked at each other and laughed.

  “She’s real sly, huh?” Brett finally said.

  “Can’t blame me for trying. I’d like to see you settle down before I croak.”

  “Don’t say stuff like that.” Brett squeezed her hand.

  “Thank you for the coffee, Miss Elda, but I really need to get home. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Of course,” Elda said.

  “Nice to meet you, Brett. How long will you be staying in January Cove?” she asked as she rose to walk to the door.

  Elda and Brett looked at each other. “I’m here for good, actually,” he said. “Actually, I was just out in Colorado for a few months helping a buddy get his ranch up and running.”

  “Oh. But I thought you have a ranch here also?”

  “I’ve got people who run it now. My aunt needed me, so I’m here.”

  “I’m confused…”

  “Oh, sweetie, I forgot to tell you. You know my memory isn’t what it once was,” Elda said with a sad smile. “Brett owns The Cove now. He’s taking it over from me, so he’s your new boss.”

  Paige felt her throat close up. Maybe it was time to find a new job.

  Brett Larson had always prided himself on being a “man’s man”. Running a ranch had made him tough. His father wouldn’t have accepted it any other way.

  “You’ve gotta be tough, son,” he’d say. “Nobody is going to give you anything in this world. You gotta earn it, you gotta keep it and you can’t be a wimp.”

  God, he missed his father.

  The two men had been close since the day Brett was born, but when fate had taken his life three years ago, Brett thought it would break him for good. He tried not to think about his father, but sometimes the memories came flooding back and paralyzed him for a few minutes.

  Now, as he stood alone in The Cove, reorganizing the shelf of gardening books, he felt his masculinity slipping from his body. He could almost hear his father jabbing at him and laughing, and that thought made him smile.

  “You like gardening?”

  He turned to see Paige standing behind him, probably wondering why he was staring into space holding a book about organic gardening and grinning like a weirdo.

  Brett cleared his throat and smiled. “Maybe I do.” He slid the book back on the shelf and turned to face her. “I assume you have a key.”

  “I am the store manager, so yeah. Kind of important that I have a key.”

  She had a biting sarcastic wit, and he liked that about her. But even more frustrating was her beauty. She was petite but had some muscle in her arms and toned legs that he was noticing as she stood there in her short cotton red dress and black flats.

  “My eyes are up here,” she said, using his words against him from the night before. He looked at her and she laughed.

  “Sorry. Aren’t you cold? The air in this place feels like you could hang meat in here.” Did she buy it? Or did she still think he was staring at her beautiful legs? Just for effect, he walked to the thermostat and messed with it.

  “I’m from New York City, so this doesn’t bother me. Trust me, once you’ve experienced a winter up there, this is a piece of cake.” She walked behind the counter and pressed a button to open the cash register.

  “New York, huh? I’ve never been there,” he said, watching her as she counted the money from a small metal box and started loading it into the slots of the register. “You don’t sound like a New Yorker.”


  She laughed and shook her head. “I’m not originally. I was actually raised in a little podunk Tennessee town, but life took me… places.”

  “Sounds like an interesting story.”

  “Not so much.” She seemed guarded and wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

  “So what brought you all the way from New York to January Cove of all places?”

  She turned and started fiddling with something on the shelf behind the checkout counter. He was obviously making her uncomfortable.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry…”

  She turned back to him and smiled sadly. “No, it’s okay. I just figured Miss Elda had already told you my story.”

  “No. Not yet anyway. I kind of want to ask her now.”

  Her eyes smiled at him, if that was even possible. They were blue with flicks of gray in them, and now his strong cowboy legs were feeling a little weak.

  “No need to ask her. Short story is I was in love, got engaged and then my fiance was killed in a car accident. I came here to start over and get a break from the constant reminders.”

  His heart literally ached for her. She was a tough cookie, that much he could tell already. But underneath that tough exterior seemed to be a hurting woman, and he had always been a sucker for hurting women.

  Not. This. Time.

  He wasn’t getting sucked in again. Every woman he’d tried to save in the past had ended up shattering him. Not again.

  “Sorry to hear about your loss,” he said, repeating what his mother had told him to say as a boy. But he really was sorry for her loss.

  “Thanks. Now, I’m sure you have some questions for me about the running of this place?” It was obvious that she didn’t want to discuss her private life any more than he wanted to discuss his, so he was thankful when she gave him an out.

  “Right, yes. My aunt hasn’t really given me a lot to go on. I saw some of the financial spreadsheets, but everything looked like a mess.”

  “Between you and me, I met her tax guy a few weeks ago, and I don’t think he’s been looking out for her best interests.”

  “Taking advantage of an old woman?” She nodded, her eyebrow cocked up.

 

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