Page 48 of Hearts at War

“You welcomed me.”

He smirked. “Because I met you at the ranch, worked with you. Besides, you charmed your way into being a regular soon enough, sleeping with anyone looking for a new piece of meat.”

I rolled my eyes, hating that stigma of being a player. I wasn’t, but I supposed putting that ratio into perspective in a small place like Burton, it would seem like I was a man whore when I first came to town.

“What bugs you about this guy though?” I asked. “He can’t be the first stranger to come through.”

“No. You’re right. But he’s hanging around.”

That was weird. Burton wasn’t on the way to any sort of an attraction. This wasn’t a pitstop of tourists. “Does he have family around? Something to settle at the ranch?”

Gavin shook his head. “No. When I was at the pharmacy picking up something for Wendy, I stood in line with a few people from church. No one recognized him. I’m not the only one who’s noticed. Maybe it’s nothing. Who knows.”

I shrugged. Somedays, I wondered if this trait of small-town living would ever imprint on me. If I’d stay here long enough that I’d become a nosy, closed-minded busybody wanting to know everyone’s business. People like Gavin were like this in the sense that they wanted to know their surroundings all for the purpose of protecting their own. I got that. I could get behind that mentality, but I didn’t have anything at stake. It was just me, and temporarily, Nevaeh. I was responsible for myself and that was it.

If only I could make that stick.

I was here to live my life, work hard, and mind my own business.

Too bad it seemed easier said than done where Heather was concerned.

Chapter 17

Heather

As the month wore on, I settled into a routine of small-town life. And the more I got used to going into town, I adapted, or readapted, to the rigmarole of being in Burton.

The longer I was out of Chicago and away from David’s reach, the more that things seemed to relax. My anxiety lessened. My paranoia of being followed was reduced. After almost two and a half years of stress, everything was finally as it should be.

That didn’t mean that everything was rosy. That no issues popped up with the people here. Still, I got the curious looks and sometimes the dirty scowls. I wasn’t under any illusion that Burton would suddenly accept me and make me feel welcome, but I was getting better at not letting it bother me.

It was what it was and I couldn’t change a thing about how drama ruled in this town. I had no power over the strength of years-old grudges or biases.

Nance and Fergus noticed, though. Janelle, too.

It was clear that they’d been picking up and the low-lying undercurrent of antagonism pointed my way.

At lunch, one afternoon at the diner, Nance didn’t seem able to hold her tongue any longer.

“Just what are you looking at?” she snapped at Ashley, who was sipping a frou-frou concoction of pumpkin spice.

Ashley raised her brows. “Are you talking to me?” She pointed an orange and black nail at her chest as she looked around.

“Yeah, you. What is your problem?” Nance folded her hands together and placed them on top the table where our empty lunch plates remained. “I’m getting sick of you looking this way and smirking like something’s crawled up your ass and festered.”

Other diners chuckled and giggled, overhearing. Of course, they overheard. This tiny diner was literally the only public gathering place. It was here or the bar.

“Sheesh, Nance,” Janelle chided with a slightly shocked but amused expression. “Where’s your manners?”

“Hey, I’m not on the clock,” Nance said.

Fergus sighed and sipped his drink. “I am so jelly. I want menopause so I can have free rein to be a bitch when I wanna.”

I laughed, shooting him an incredulous look. “No way. Embrace your femininity without that.”

“I mean it. I’m sick of her looking over here like a prune face,” Nance insisted.

Ashley huffed and turned to whisper to her friends at the table. It was such a pathetic reminder of my high school lunchroom days that I rolled my eyes.