She stopped short when she realized her groggy husband was at her elbow. He stood almost two heads taller than her, so she had to crane her neck to send up a glare.
“Ma’am,” he teased, smiling back.
I’d never said more than a handful of words to the Rainwoods. But they were the only people I’d gotten to know, which didn’t say much considering it was difficult not to know your only grocer.
The Rainwoods were a couple in their 40s. Artists who’d lived in New York for decades before settling down to sell seeds to farmers and paint seasonal murals on the side of city hall. I liked that they matched the energy of whatever customer came in. When I was quiet, they said little passed a polite greeting. When Wilson came in with his baked goods and his need to gossip, they pulled up their hand-carved stools and cups of steaming coffee.
“Your protégé.” Maggie gestured to Liam, who now stared up at Rae as if he were in the front row at some pop star’s farewell concert. He’d stopped squirming, cheeks dotted red.
“Hi,” he said to Rae. “Who are you? Did you just move here?”
Rae laughed. “Hello, I’m Rae. And I’m here for work. How about yourself?”
“Liam.” He offered her a shy,crooked smile. “And I live here with my grandma. But I take care of myself most of the time. I’m in the third grade.”
I bit down on my inner cheek, trying not to laugh.
“Alright.” James picked up Liam and tossed him over his shoulder like it was nothing. “Enough of that.”
“I can walk.” Liam pounded on James’s back.
“Not fast enough.” James carted the kid out of the store, ready to give him a talking-to on the porch.
“He’s sweet,” Maggie promised quickly. “Just sometimes likes to cause trouble for attention. Things get a little boring around here. But not anymore! You’re new. And you’re friends with our Octavia?”
She said “our Octavia” as if we’d shared more than passing pleasantries. As if I were as interwoven into this community as she was with her fundraisers, bake sales, and plays in the park. The label’s a kindness I hadn’t earned. An offer I didn’t deserve.
“Friend…” Rae looked at me. For approval? Encouragement? Amusement? All the above?
I stared back at her blankly, trying to think of how to explain her presence to Maggie in the most non-intrusive way possible.
Rae and her team would have to explain their presence to everyone eventually. And then, we’d have every single household in Alpine wondering just how ridiculous those Daniel siblings were at Elmwood Ranch. Or worse, what if they believed the whole ghost thing? I mean, my previous seasonal ranch hands got the hell out of town after their accidents. If people believed ghosts were on the ranch, would that kill my chances to open my doors? Haunting had to be high on the list of bad publicity.
“Friend,” I said quickly, claiming the dead air for my own. “Old friend from…old times.”
“Very old times. We’re like this.” Rae crossed her fingers. “Literally get sick being apart.”
“Okay,” I warned in a lower voice.
“Literally,” she caked on, unable to help herself.
“How sweet. I love lifelong friendships.” Maggie pressed her hand to her chest, admiring us as if we’d set a precedent for all friends henceforth. “And you’re just in time for the holiday season celebrations! We’re getting started early this year since the pumpkin patches are perfect already. Our first event’s coming up.”
“She won’t be around—” I tried.
“Celebrations?” Rae cut in, allowing herself to be pulled into Maggie’s bubble of excitement.
“Our annual Harvest Dance is at the Midtown Bar.” Maggie snatched a flyer from the large stack on the counter. There was always some dance, bake sale, or field day happening in town. Every time I rode in, someone was on the cusp of planning a parade, planting trees, or singing around a campfire in the town square. It could be cute, but most times it was so sweet it gave me a headache.
“There’s a costume contest. The theme’s ‘best cowfolk in town.’” Maggie wiggled her brows. This time, her gaze was on me.
I frowned, not sure why she’d thought that part would interest me. I wore the same brand of worn jeans and cotton long sleeve every day.
“The prize’s one thousand dollars?” Rae’s eyes went big as she also looked at me.
That’s why Maggie thought it’d interest me.
It was no secret that opening the ranch was taking longer than I expected. And I’d put back a couple of items on the shelves in this store more than enough times to indicate I wasn’t exactly rolling in cash.
