Strolling back to Delgado’s from dropping off the last of their delivery orders for the night, Grace couldn’t stop smiling. She was walking on cloud nine.
In one night, she had lost everything and gained so much more at the same time. The old had been purged, making way for the new. From the love that was overflowing in her heart down to her boots.
She never thought it was possible to be this happy. So much at peace with herself and her life.
Holden was such a good fit for her, and she hoped she was for him as well. Not only was he gorgeous and kind and sexy, he was a great lover and a terrific cook, too. His bacon had been a perfect mix of crispy and chewy, his pancakes fluffy and moist.
He didn’t talk at her but to her, and he listened. No matter how scary or dark things got, he managed to be a beacon of light, brightening everything.
Why had they waited so long to get together?
Even her worries about what his family would be like had dissipated after she’d gone through the shopping bags Holly had dropped off. At first, the highlight had been seeing a bag filled with all the hair products from her list. But then she noticed his mother had removed the price tags from the clothes and had included a note saying she didn’t want her to stress out about it. As Grace would have done. Holly had taken care to pick out simple, comfortable things that were flattering to her skin tone and figure while not being the least bit fancy. His mom hadn’t tried to push off what she thought would be good for her.
As Selene would have done in such a situation.
Holly had managed to make her feel seen and accepted. Not judged. Not bribed. Simply overwhelmed in a good way with that kind act of generosity.
Grace would still find some way to pay them back without insulting anyone. Whether it was by helping on the ranch or doing her best to make Holden as happy as he was making her. Which in her book would be a win-win.
Before going into the restaurant, she pulled out the prepaid cell phone Holly had also gotten her. Grace had forgotten hers in the bathtub once she realized Holden had come to get her out of the burning house.
She texted her mother to let her know this was her new number. Then she gave her a quick call.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Why do you have a new number?”
“It’s a long story and I don’t have time to get into it, but I wanted you to have it.”
“Did something happen, Bug?”
So much over the past few days. She didn’t want to worry her mother with any of it, but with this second lease on life she’d been given she was going to live on her own terms. “Yeah, but I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. Hey, Mom, when I was little and you used to call me Love Bug, it made me smile. Made me feel special. But I hate it when you shorten it to just Bug. It reminds me that I’m none of the things you ever wanted me to be. That I’m nothing like you. There are so many other things you could call me that are sweeter and nicer than that.”
“Oh.” Unnerving silence followed.
Selene was never quiet.
“Mom?”
“I’m sorry. I always thought of it as our verbal shorthand. That you knew Love was implied. Grace, I’ve never wanted you to be a mini me. One Selene Beauvais is enough.”
Grace couldn’t agree more.
“But I did want you to be better than me. That’s what every parent wants. And in so many ways you are. You’re my baby and you’ll always be special, regardless of what I call. But I’ll stick to Love Bug, not shorthand, or sweetie.”
“Simply calling me Grace is fine.”
“When have I ever settled for fine?”
She laughed. “I’ve got to get back to work, Mom. We’ll talk later. Love you.”
“Love you, too, Grace.”
Smiling, she hung up and pushed through the door of Delgado’s.
The dinner crowd was thinner than usual on a Sunday night thanks to it being Christmas Eve. Two more hours until Xavier closed early and less than one until Holden picked her up so they could have dinner with his family.
As Xavier was walking a couple of plates to table ten, he stopped her. “Someone is here looking for you.”
“Who?”
“Guy at the bar. He had a couple of drinks, settled his bill and he’s just been waiting. Good tipper.”
She turned to see, but there were lots of guys at the bar. “Which one?”
“At the end. Gray sweater,” Xavier said, heading to table ten.
She glanced back and doubted her eyes. From the back, he looked familiar, but his hair was longer, shaggier. Not cropped to his collar.
But it couldn’t be.
Grace walked around the bar and went behind it, and came face-to-face with Kevin Hughes.
She swayed, feeling hot and then cold. “What are you doing here?”
“Hello to you, too.” He smiled, and she remembered that she had once found him attractive. His chestnut-brown hair was smooth and shiny and long enough now to be pulled in a man bun that would’ve fit in back in LA. “I’m waiting for you.”
“No, I mean, what are you doing here in Wyoming?”
He finished his drink and set the glass down on his receipt. “My grandmother’s estate finished going through probate. She left you something. I brought it for you, and I was hoping we could talk.”
“About what?”
Kevin sighed. “I don’t like the way we left things. I want to make amends.” He got up from the barstool and put on his jacket. “Can we go outside where it’s quieter?” When she hesitated, he added, “I came a long way.” He flashed a charming smile. “Please.”
She did need to close this chapter in her life and move on so that she never thought about it or him again. Maybe this was her opportunity. “Yeah, sure.”
He held the door open for her and she walked outside.
The door swung closed with a thud.
“How did you know I worked here?” she asked.
“Selene. It’s driving her bananas that you’re working as a waitress instead of using your nursing degree.”
Of course. Her meddling mother had struck again. “I’m a manager, not a waitress, and I’m going to school, getting my master’s.”
“That’s nice,” he said, his tone dismissive. “I’m sorry for being a jerk at times.” He shivered from the cold. “For the way I behaved when you ended it.”
Like a petulant child having a tantrum because he didn’t get what he wanted. Maybe he acted that way because his grandmother had spoiled him when he was little after his mother died. But there was no excuse for being mean. “And the things you said to me?”
“Oh, yeah. That, too. I was awful.”
She couldn’t disagree.
“But we had some good times together, didn’t we?”
They had a shared love of art and that was how they had first connected. There were moments when he’d been nice and fun to be around, and others when he hadn’t. “I guess we did.”
“Come on, I want to give you what my grandmother left for you.” He stepped off the sidewalk into the parking lot.
“Go where?”
“Right over there.” He pointed to the B and B.
“You’re staying at the Quenbys’?”
“Can we go talk for a few minutes? I’m only in town for one night. I got in a little while ago and I fly out tomorrow from Denver. I won’t keep you long. Five, ten minutes tops. I’m sure you’ve got plans.”
It wasn’t like him to think of anyone but himself, but he’d flown all the way out here with a quick turnaround. At Christmas. For ten minutes of her time?
“Okay.” Putting her hands in her pockets, she walked with him.
He started making small talk, asking her questions about how she liked living out here. Her focus was torn as she answered. She couldn’t help but think about Emma Burk and the night in the rain when the young woman had died.
Opening the front door of the B and B, he let her go in ahead of him.
It was quiet inside. Only a couple of side table lamps were on. “Are the Quenbys here?”
“They mentioned something about going to Christmas Eve mass. They left some cookies out on the table for me. Would you like some?”
“No, thanks.”
He showed her up to his room, number two, and she wondered which one Emma had stayed in.
After letting her in, he closed the door. “Let me take your coat for you.” He held out his hand and waited.
She slipped it off and gave it to him.
The room was large enough to accommodate a bed, a bistro-size table and two chairs. The lamp was on. But then her gaze flew to the candles burning and the bouquet of flowers on the dresser beside a bottle of wine and two glasses.
“Kevin, I hope you didn’t ask me up here with romantic intentions.”
“Before I show you what my grandmother left for you, I have a gift.” He went to the dresser and grabbed a small box. As he turned to her, she noticed that it was a velvet ring box. He flipped it open, revealing a diamond ring, and knelt on one knee. “Grace, I know I’m not perfect and I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I’m a work in progress. But in this time apart, I’ve reflected and thought about you every single day. With your love and support, I can be a better man. One worthy of you. I know you think I was only interested in you for your mother’s money, but that isn’t true. I love you. Will you marry me?” Her eyes flared wide, and he continued, “Let’s just throw caution to the wind and do it. We could be married in an hour. And to show you that I only want you, not Selene’s money, I had a prenup drawn up. It states that anything you get from your mother is entirely yours. Put it in a trust. Something ironclad that I can’t touch. I only want you.”
Selene had told him that a grand gesture was required, and he thought a proposal was a good idea?
She was speechless. Not only had he managed to be humble while addressing her concerns, but it was also kind of sweet.
Like saccharin.
And just as artificial.
“No, Kevin. I can’t marry you.”
Hanging his head, he got up from the floor. “Is it because you don’t believe me?”
ONLY PARTLY. “It’s because I don’t love you.” She never had. What made it worse, she was embarrassed for herself that she had ever been taken in by him, settled for what little he had to offer.
“Well, I love you so much that I had to try.” With a disappointed look, he closed the ring box and traded it for the bouquet of roses. “In case you said no, I still wanted to give you something. I really am sorry for everything.”
Once again, surprise rocked through her. This was so unlike him. “Thank you.” She took the flowers. “I can’t stay long.”
“Right.” He grabbed the bottle of wine. “My grandmother wanted you to have this.” He showed her the label.
It was a 1996 Petrus Pomerol. A $5,000 bottle of Bordeaux.
“Oh my goodness. I used to joke with her about trying it one day.”
“She wanted to make sure you’d get that day. The rest of the case is being shipped to you.”
“A whole case?”
“That’s right, but I was hoping we could try a bottle together. One glass. You keep the rest.” He must have sensed her hesitation, because he added, “We can toast to her.” He held up the bottle. “I leave tomorrow morning. You’ll never have to see me again. I think my grandmother would’ve liked it if we took a few minutes to honor her together over something she loved.”
It was true. Miss Linda would’ve wanted them to make amends, celebrate her and then move on, going their separate ways with no ill will. “What time is it?”
He checked his watched. “Five thirty. Can you spare a few minutes for a quick glass?”
This was nice, like it was in the beginning between them, before they’d started dating. “One.”
“Thanks. You were always such a sweetheart.” Kevin pulled out a chair for her and she sat.
He went back to the dresser to open the bottle. “The Quenbys told me this is the best room in the B and B. It even has a view. Check it out.”
She pulled back the curtain. He had a view all right. Of the mountains, the street and the rear of Delgado’s. She got a creepy image of him sitting at the window, watching her take out the trash, opening and closing the restaurant. Goose bumps prickled her skin. “When did you get here?”
The cork squeaked out of the bottle. “Just today,” he said with his back to her. Then there was the glug, glug sound of him pouring the wine. “I landed this afternoon and then drove up from Denver.” Turning, he faced her, holding the two glasses. “One night only. Just to see you.” He handed her one and sat. “My grandmother,” he said, raising his glass, “was a special woman. Smart. Shrewd. She believed in tough love. And she had this way of always surprising me, keeping me on my toes, even from beyond the grave. I wish she were still here, that we could go back in time and speak to her once again. But since that’s not possible, let’s remember her. How formidable she was. To Linda Hughes.”
“To Linda.”
They clinked their glasses together, and she took a deep drink of the wine.
HOLDEN PINCHED THE bridge of his nose, not liking the ultimate outcome any more than Ashley.
“What do you mean we’re releasing Todd?” she asked.
“We have no choice,” he said, loathing the words.
“He aided and abetted his brother. He’s complicit in murder.”
Holden nodded. “But after conferring with his lawyer, Kyle has changed his story.”
“You mean after being coerced by Todd’s lawyer.”
“Mr. Friedman is now also representing Kyle, who he claims is confused, delusional and in need of psychiatric treatment.”
“Oh, please,” Ashley scoffed. “Do you really believe that Kyle hallucinated seeing his brother and smashed his own hand with a hammer?”
“No.” Holden sighed, hating the fact that Todd was going to walk. Yet again. “We have Emma’s murderer. We have to accept the viable win and work on getting Todd another day.” Although it sickened him to do it.
Ashley grabbed her jacket and threw on her cowboy hat. “I need some air.” She stormed out of the office.
He understood her pain and his heart went out to her. But it wasn’t in the cards for them to get Todd Burk today.
Melanie, who was still there, came over to him. “I saw the forensics reports, eliminating Jared Simpson’s and Todd Burk’s motorcycles. But it looks as if we’ll get a match on the one Kyle was driving that night.”
Holden nodded. “I only wish we could’ve nailed his brother as well.”
“It’s no secret that you want to see Todd go down for the crimes he’s committed. I must admit that I’m surprised you handled this situation so objectively. He threw out tempting bait with his confession. If you had gone for it, you would’ve set up both our offices for an embarrassing fall when the case later crumbled, and he got a mistrial. I’ll be sure to put in a good word on your behalf with the sheriff when he gets back.”
It was nice to hear. “Thank you, but that’s not necessary.”
“Yes. It is. I only wish I could print up flyers about it and pass them around town for you. You deserve to be recognized after everything that happened. This was good work.”
“Only doing my job.”
“Merry Christmas.” Melanie headed out.
Holden was ready to see Grace and give her an early Christmas present—the letter from Rodney Owens that Holden had tucked inside his inner jacket pocket. “Mitch, I’m going to head out a little early.”
“Sure.” The phone rang and he answered it. Just as Holden reached the door, Mitch said, “Hey, Holden, it’s for you. It’s your brother.”
Whichever one it was should’ve waited until they were all at dinner together.
He traipsed back in and grabbed the phone. “This can’t wait.”
“Nope, it can’t,” Sawyer said.
“Then this better be good.”
“Trust me, it is. We confirmed it was arson at Grace’s place. And way more accelerant than necessary was used. That’s why the place went up so quickly.
“From what I could tell, her smoke detectors were sabotaged. Not only that, but it wasn’t only her bedroom room that had been nailed shut. All of them had been.”
Holden’s blood ran cold. “When I get my hands on whoever did it, heaven help them.”
“You might get your wish. I checked out the emergency service log of 911 calls. Five total came in. Everyone identified themselves. Except for the first caller, who phoned in ten minutes earlier than the rest.”
“Ten?” That was a long gap of time.
“Yup. Like maybe someone set that fire and at the last minute had a change of heart and called 911. That’s not all, the second caller was Oscar Owens. Her neighbor.”
“He owned the cottage.”
“Oscar’s niece was visiting at the time. They went outside to get a better look at the fire. He reported seeing a silver truck speeding down Old Mill away from the cottage, fishtailing all over the road. The niece got a partial license plate number and spotted a rental car placard around it.”
Holden’s pulse spiked. “Tell me you ran it.”
“Who’s your favorite brother?” Sawyer asked.
“You are, if you’ve got a name for me.”
“I do. Traced the rental back to a Kevin Hughes from Los Angeles.”
“Hughes?” This Kevin was her ex?
“You know the name.”
“I do.”
Oh my God.
That man had slashed her tires, run her off the road, set her house on fire while she was still inside. He’d been there in town for days, right across the street from Delgado’s, all this time, watching her, stalking her.
Terrorizing her.
His gut burned with rage, then it was as if an icy fist clenched around his heart.
Grace. “I’ve got to go.”