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I’d found Frank. And Frank had given me everything.
I did not want to step foot out of my house, nestled on the edge of the big house property. I did not want to walk into this day, a day I knew would be unending and exhausting in ways I couldn’t even fathom. I didn’t want to say goodbye to Frank, not with an audience, not ever.
But I had no choice. There was no way to avoid it, and the people of this town needed someone to accept their condolences.
My only comfort was that I wouldn’t be alone.
Olivia and I had stayed out of each other’s way the last couple of days, resulting in some kind of unspoken truce. I was still as unhappy about the whole situation as she was. But today, we needed each other. Today, nothing mattered but Frank. So we’d stand side by side and accept everyone’s grief, piling it on top of our own. We would sit shoulder to shoulder in a pew and do our best not to break in front of the whole town. We’d get through today and put the rest off until tomorrow.
I swore under my breath, undoing my tie again. It was hopeless. I was hopeless.
An idea struck—Kit. Kit knew everything about everything. She had to know how to tie a stupid tie. With the slip of silk in my fist, I headed out, snagging my coat on the way.
The morning was cool, the sun only up enough to shoot shafts of sunlight through the dewy leaves of the trees. Even the grass glittered, struck with that burst of light that made the whole world look like it was weeping.
The path wound around the other cottages, one for Kit and one for Mack and one for Miguel, our vet. I smelled Kit’s biscuits well before I reached the back door and hoped I’d find the faces I knew. Hoped we’d have a moment to ourselves before this day began.
But once again, luck was not on my side.
The kitchen was empty except for one person, a face I barely knew anymore, one I was accustomed to seeing screwed up with irritation. But in that moment when I walked in, Olivia’s face was soft, her eyes glittering and shoulders slumped. For the first time since I’d picked her up at the airport, she looked like the city girl I knew her to be. A tailored black dress with sleeves capping small shoulders. Her neck, long and pale, exposed by the twist of her hair, smooth and red. Her lips, lush and bowed and turned down.
She was unarmed, and the sight disarmed me too. Everything about her was delicate and vulnerable—from the curve of her chin to her long, threaded fingers—the spitfire doused, leaving her nothing but vapors. And when she met my gaze, we shared that sentiment, the thread of connection deep and tangible between us.
But she looked away and took the moment with her.
“Kit just ran back to put on her dress,” Olivia said, swiping at her cheeks, her back stiffening. When she looked up again, then at the tie hanging in my fist, she frowned. “Did you need help?”
I scoffed. “No.”
“Then why’s your tie in your hand and not around your neck?”
“You said Kit’s at her house?”
“Getting dressed,” she added, slipping off her stool. “Don’t be a baby, Jake,” she said without heat. “Let me help you.”
I let out a noisy, resigned breath as she clicked her way toward me in heels higher than I’d ever seen. They were black and shiny against the snow of her skin, her legs long and her stride sure. This was her element more than the stupid pink boots. And in this element, I was as lost as she was in mine.
She took the tie from my hand when she came to a stop in front of me. “You look nice,” she said, her eyes on her hands as she flipped my collar and slid that tie around my neck in a whisper.
“So do you,” I offered, meaning it.
For a moment, she said nothing, just watched her hands as I watched her. Her nose, small and pert. Her lashes, long and feathery. Her cheeks, dotted with freckles. She smelled like flowers—not the old lady kind. The kind that made you sigh in the summertime and wish you lived in a meadow.
I swallowed, disturbing her work with my Adam’s apple.
“Get any sleep?” she asked.
“Not a wink. You?”
“None. I watched the sun come up wishing it would go back down.” Her voice trembled. “I don’t think I want to do this at all.”
“Neither do I. Only thing that makes it a little easier is knowing you’ll be there with me.”
Her face turned up to mine, her brows creased. “Me? I thought all you wanted was for me to give up and go home.”
