The Stillwater Bay Collection (Books 1-4): Stillwater Bay Series Boxed Set

by Steena Holmes

  “I’m so sorry, Nathan.”

  “How could this have happened? How?” Nathan shrugged off Charlotte’s hold and turned to Grace. “She wasn’t supposed to be there. She. Wasn’t. Supposed. To. Be. There,” he yelled at her.

  Grace could only shake her head.

  Still, to this day, the look in his eyes, the hatred, the accusations…they were still there. She could still feel it radiating off of him every time he handed Sophie to her, every time Katie’s name was mentioned. He blamed her…and he had every right to. Every right.

  “Talk to me!” Faith’s voice jolted her from the memory.

  “You have no idea,” Grace said. “No idea what I’m going through. No idea what it was like that day to face my students and their families. To stand with them afterward trying to comfort them, to help them make sense of the horror they’d just lived through. You have no idea what it was like to attend the funerals of those ten children who died, or to watch as my best friend’s body was laid into the ground, knowing I was to blame!” Grace’s body shook from the anger that coursed through her.

  “You’re right,” Faith said softly. “I have no idea what you went through—because you shut me out, and I let you. I let you because I knew it was what you needed. You needed someone to blame, someone to focus your anger on instead of yourself.”

  Grace’s hands fisted. “You think I blame you? Not as much as I blame myself.” She kept her voice steady and almost emotionless. “I didn’t have to leave that morning. I could have waited till my classes were over. I could have told you to have fun shopping until I arrived. I could have done any number of things that day, but I didn’t. I jumped at the chance to spend the day with you because I had news I wanted to share.”

  “Oh, Grace.” Faith sighed. “The only one to blame here is the teenage shooter. Gabriel Berry. He’s the one who made the decision to enter the school with a loaded gun. He was the one who pulled the trigger and shot all those students and Katie. Him. Not you. You didn’t kill her.”

  “I might not have pulled the trigger,” Grace’s voice shook. “But it’s my fault she was there. It should have been me. Don’t you see that? It should have been me protecting my students, putting their precious lives before mine.” Her voice hitched and she turned to stare at Sophie, whom she realized was happy and content for the first time in a long time.

  “This little girl is going to grow up without Katie and it’s because of me. You and John think I’m running away, that I’m living in denial, but I’m not.”

  “Then what are you doing, Grace? Tell me!”

  The sadness in her sister’s voice brought the tears Grace had wanted to squelch. She couldn’t. They welled up until she couldn’t see clearly.

  “I’m trying to live with the heavy burden. I’m trying to live knowing I killed my best friend. Not the kid who took the gun to the school and lost control. Me. Because I placed myself first, my needs before my duties. My fault.” Her fist hit the counter hard with those last words and she swore at the pain that flared up.

  “Grace, it’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself. You can’t. It’s eating you up inside.” Faith’s eyes were so full of love, of compassion. There was no blame. No anger. Nothing but love.

  In that moment, when all Grace felt was sadness and grief, little Sophie laughed. Her voice, pure and innocent, filled the air, and all Grace could do was stare at her.

  “You love her, don’t you?” Faith said.

  “So much. But not as much as her mother did.”

  “You can’t carry that burden, Grace. It’s going to destroy you,” her sister said quietly.

  Grace didn’t say anything; she couldn’t. Destroy her? It already had. She was merely trying to pick up the pieces.

  8

  CAMILLE

  “Hey, lovely lady.”

  Camille opened the door to Stan’s gentle voice. Her deliveryman was here with her weekly floral delivery.

  “Good morning, handsome.” She wedged in the stopper for the door to remain open and then stepped to the side.

  “Now, now, don’t be saying things like that. If my wife found out, she’d stop sending you her special teas,” Stan teased as he hefted a large box in his arms through the door and set it on a table.

  “We can’t have that, now, can we?” Camille reached for a bag she’d set to the side. “You’d better take this, then, and give it to her.”

  She’d never met Stan’s wife in person, but that hadn’t stopped them from connecting and building first a working relationship and now a sort of friendship. Stan’s wife supplied tea and made homemade items while Stan drove a delivery truck to local florist shops on Whidbey Island.

  “Do I dare ask what it is?” Stan took the bag and peered inside.

  “Just a little thank-you from me to her for the extras she always adds with my order. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

  “Well, then, you’ll really like what she placed in there today.” Stan winked before he left to retrieve buckets of flowers Camille had ordered.

  Interested, Camille opened up the box and found it full of the regular items she ordered, loose teas wrapped in both individual and larger packets, a few really cute mugs to go along with them, and some tea-infused soaps and creams. But at the bottom was a gift-wrapped box with her name on the tag.

  “It’s to celebrate the anniversary,” Stan said.

  Understanding dawned a few moments later. It’d been a year since she’d started ordering and displaying their teas and gift items.

  “It’s been a very good year, hasn’t it?” Camille took out the box and unwrapped it. Inside was a teacup and infuser, but when she looked at the teacup better she went over and gave Stan a hug.

  “You make sure you give that sweet wife of yours a hug for me, okay?”

  The cup was beautiful. It was soft blue in color with a floral design, but the words touched her heart.

  The most beautiful of flowers grow out of the darkest of moments.

  “It’s lovely.” Camille loved the cup and would use it daily, as a reminder that life didn’t stop after tragedy.

  Stan gave a deep nod. “She thought you would like it. She had an idea of making some cups with that saying, and perhaps even some signs, if you were interested. She wasn’t sure whether it was too early or not.”

  Camille thought about it for a moment. “I don’t think so. In fact, what if you were to make some smaller signs that I could stick in some flower baskets instead? And the larger ones we could sell next door?”

  The Treasure Chest, the store that belonged to Julia Berry, the mother of the teenage shooter, had closed after the shooting occurred. It was a source of income for many in the community who sold locally made items, and now it was open again, thanks to Mayor Charlotte’s help. She’d found some volunteers to help not only keep it open but keep the product moving until Julia felt like she could take over again.

  Camille had no idea how long that would last. She’d been by Julia’s house a few times with flower deliveries, but the grieving mother wasn’t quite ready for visitors. Not that Camille blamed her. The media, when they’d literally been parked out on the streets of Stillwater in May and June, had vilified her, and not many had stood up to help.

  One of Mayor Charlotte’s goals was to revitalize their town after the shooting, to be a strong community, and one way of doing this was ensuring that all their stores were open for business and their town was moving forward. It was a slow process, but they were getting there.

  “You think so?” Stan shuffled his feet, looking slightly embarrassed. “I have a few samples with me if you want to see them.”

  “Absolutely. I’m glad you thought to bring some with you.” Every so often Stan would bring some homemade items for her to look at, and she’d either offer to sell them in her store or take them next door.

  Once all the flowers were in the fridge and Stan had gone to continue his deliveries, Camille took a look at her calendar to see what was o
n the schedule for the day. Paige had made some notes for arrangements due later this afternoon, but Camille wasn’t sure whether she planned on making them herself or if she should go ahead with them.

  She hadn’t seen her sister since learning Paige planned to move out. After their talk, Camille had basically hidden in her room, trying to absorb the idea that her sister was going to leave her. She wasn’t sure how she felt about being alone in the home, of coming home to an empty house night in and night out.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

  Just next door. The text was from her sister.

  Come on over. The mayor is here too.

  Charlotte’s being in the Treasure Chest wasn’t unusual, but why did Camille need to go there? She grabbed a chalkboard sign plaque and wrote, Back in 5—next door if needed, in pink chalk.

  Once outside, she almost ran into Samantha Hill.

  “Camille, seems I’m catching you at a bad time.” Samantha took a step back, giving her room.

  The reporter held a notebook in her hand, purse slung over her shoulder with the straps of what looked like a camera hanging out.

  “Sam, good to see you. What can I help you with?” Camille asked. It had been a few weeks since she’d seen the woman.

  “I thought I’d see what new stock you have today, and…maybe ask you a few questions.”

  Camille glanced at the store next door and noticed her sister in the window, beckoning to her.

  “Hmm. Come back after lunch and I’ll have new flowers out; they just arrived.”

  Sam glanced over. “Great. How about I bring you some coffee at the same time? I’ll only take up a few minutes of your time; I promise.”

  Camille smiled. She liked Sam. “Stay longer or I’ll be offended.”

  “Deal.” Sam waved and headed down the street.

  “Are you coming?” Paige stepped outside of the Treasure Chest and held the door open.

  “You know there’re arrangements due soon, right?”

  Her sister nodded and glanced at her watch. “I know; I’m sorry. I ran into the mayor while getting a coffee and she dragged me here to talk about an idea she had.”

  “I did not drag you.” Charlotte shook her head. “I merely suggested you walk with me so we could talk.”

  Paige turned to Camille and mouthed, Dragged.

  Camille gave her a small smile, then turned to the mayor.

  She was always a little jealous of how classy Charlotte made casual clothing look. In dark skinny jeans and a tunic, not only did the mayor look comfortable, but she dressed it up with a chain and earrings. If Camille were to wear the same outfit, she’d look fat. It wasn’t fair.

  Charlotte noticed the items in Camille’s arms. “I hope those are for here.”

  Camille placed them down on the counter. “Sure are. They’re from Stan, my delivery guy. I sell his wife’s tea and soaps, and the rest come over.”

  “I love that you support this place like you do.” Charlotte smiled and opened up a notebook. “It’s one of the reasons I thought of this and wanted to talk with you.”

  Camille looked over at Paige, who shrugged.

  “I think it will be a while before Julia comes back to the shop, but I don’t want it to close, and while it’s doing okay as it is, I think it could be doing better. So I’d like to propose an idea.” She looked up from her notebook and paused.

  “Am I going to like this?” Camille asked.

  “I hope so.” Charlotte folded her hands in front of her. “I was looking through old blueprints of some of these shops and noticed something I never thought of before.” She moved over to where an old china cabinet sat. Julia had painted it baby blue, and it was full of homemade baskets and other items. “There should be a door behind this cabinet linking the two stores.”

  “Really?” Camille’s brow knotted as she looked at the area and tried to think what was on the other side of the wall in her shop. Some shelving and a table…but no doorway.

  “I bet it’d be there. Remember Dad did renovations when we were younger?” Paige mentioned.

  Camille was surprised her sister remembered that.

  “Would you be interested in taking a look?” Charlotte asked.

  “Why?”

  There was a calculating look in the mayor’s eyes before she relaxed her hands and spread them wide.

  “I thought we could reopen that doorway between the two stores, generate more flow,” Charlotte explained.

  “Have you spoken to Julia about this?” Camille asked. It didn’t make sense to connect the Treasure Chest with the flower shop, unless…

  “You’re worried Julia’s not coming back,” Camille said, the pieces falling into place.

  The look now in Charlotte’s eyes was of sadness. “I’m not sure how long Julia will need before she feels comfortable enough to come back, and we need this store to be up and running full-time.” She shrugged. “Right now we’ve been able to get enough people to open it on the weekends, but…it’s not enough.”

  Camille sighed.

  “So you basically want me looking after the store.” The last thing she wanted was more responsibility.

  “I spoke with Julia, and she’s going to ask Kerry Hurst to come back and help take care of it.”

  That surprised Camille. Kerry Hurst was a local retiree who used to work full-time with Julia until a few years ago. Something had happened between the two women and Kerry quit. Nothing had been said, but the two rarely spoke to each other in public since then.

  “Do you think she’s going to say yes?” Camille asked.

  “I’m hoping.”

  “So why reopen the door then?”

  “I think it would be a good idea to help with the flow of customers, and would be a good support to both of you in case someone needs to run out for coffee or…”

  Camille chuckled quietly. From what she was hearing, Charlotte was having a hard time coming up with a good enough excuse, other than needing Camille to help watch over the store as a backup.

  “Actually.” Paige stepped up. “I think it would be something worth thinking over. Maybe it’s time to expand the store into something more than just creating floral arrangements for orders, and this might be the thing.”

  Camille turned and gave her sister the scissor action with her fingers, their signal to each other for when it was time to stop talking or to be quiet. There was no expanding. No joining of the two businesses. They would discuss this together, in private, and not in front of the mayor, who would see it as a possible yes.

  “Wonderful.”

  Camille turned to see Charlotte beaming at her.

  “We’ll talk about it and get back to you.” Camille used a lower tone, not wanting to give hope when there might be none.

  As if she understood, Charlotte nodded, twisted her hands together, and then attempted a cheery smile. “Good, that’s all I can ask for. If you have any questions, let me know.”

  “Great. I need to get back.” Camille turned to her sister. “Samantha came by and wants to do coffee after lunch, and Stan left a larger than normal delivery.”

  “Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be right there.”

  Camille caught the look between her sister and the mayor as she left.

  She didn’t like it. At all. What was going on?

  She tried not to think about that look while she was organizing the flowers, or while she rearranged the buckets in the fridge, or when she filled out the display buckets for the front of the store. She also tried not to look at her watch or the clock and count the minutes until Paige returned.

  So when it took her sister over an hour before she walked through the doorway, it wasn’t like Camille was beyond irritated or anything.

  “So glad you showed up,” she muttered while hunched over an arrangement for a couple staying at the Seaglass Bed and Breakfast, celebrating their anniversary.

  “I said I’d do those.” Paige pushed the baskets on the table out of the way and set a
tray of iced coffees and two paper bags down.

  “We’re running out of time. You can work on the next order.” She added another rose to the vase.

  “I’m sorry, but you know what Charlotte is like. When I realized the time, I thought you might be hungry.” She pointed to the food she’d brought.

  Camille remained silent.

  “You probably want to know what we were talking about, right?” Paige asked after a considerable amount of silence.

  “I’m a little curious.” She’d imagined a hundred and one possible scenarios during the past hour and had come to one conclusion.

  When Paige had told her she wanted to move out, Camille assumed she meant after the summer was over. She’d housesit for now and then look.

  But she had a feeling whatever timeline Camille had thought up, Paige had her own plans.

  Paige grabbed a spray and added it to an arrangement. “Seems that summer family I’ve been housesitting for won’t be coming this summer after all, and asked if I’d be willing to rent their place for a year.”

  Camille’s heart sank at the words. She knew it.

  “Are you?” she asked.

  “I said yes.” Paige gave a small smile. “I know it’s earlier than expected, but…”

  “But now’s as good as time as any, right?” Camille responded with lackluster enthusiasm.

  “You okay with that?” Paige tilted her head to the side. “If Mom and Dad were still alive, we’d both be out on our own, living our own lives, right? I know things are different, that our lives are different now, but…”

  “But nothing. It’s a great opportunity and I think you should take it.”

  Relief flooded Paige’s face. “You mean that?”

  Camille nodded.

  They worked in silence for a bit before Paige turned to her.

  “There’s something I want to talk to you about.” Paige said.

  Camille’s hand paused as she cut some length off a rose stem. “What’s that?”

  “I’m really enjoying the landscaping aspect, more than I’d expected.” Paige’s nose wrinkled. “Dad would roll in his grave hearing me say that. He used to tease me that I’d fall in love with the feel of dirt between my fingers sooner or later.”