*The finger of one glove clenched between her teeth, Harper shivered as she punched the key code into the lock on Cameron’s workshop door. It was stiff from the cold, so she set her thermal coffee mug and a bag containing a fried egg sandwich and a bear claw from Paula’s Bread & Butter bakery on the bench by the door in order to use both hands to open it. At last, it turned and she grabbed her breakfast and stepped inside, flipping light switches as she closed the door behind her. She set her food and coffee on the workbench, stuffed her hat and gloves into the pockets of her winter jacket, and hung it on a double hook by the back door before taking a sip of coffee, trying to decide where to go next. Maybe the top…
Crap, she’d forgotten her drawings in the car. Without thinking, she grabbed the first coat she came to—Cam’s denim jacket—and slipped into it. Her heart stuttered and she almost yanked it off again, but instead she stroked the faded barn jacket, inhaling the scent of sawn wood, varnish, and Cam that permeated the worn fabric. Memories assaulted her for a few seconds, taking her breath away, and she closed her eyes. She’d often pulled on whatever jacket of Drew’s was hanging by the door when she’d run outside to grab the mail or get a package left in the driveway of their little cottage in St. Clair Shores.
A few deep breaths later, she opened her eyes, thinking she should take it off and put on her own coat. But there was something incredibly comforting about wearing a man’s jacket—almost as if you were in their arms. She’d missed that feeling of being protected, safe. She put her hands in the pockets, pulling out a few loose coins, a crumpled five-dollar bill, a couple of receipts, and a pair of brown jersey gloves. She had to chuckle as she hurried out to her car. She’d have found exactly the same things in Drew’s jacket. In some ways, men were all the same.
Inside again, she replaced the jacket and pulled out the still-warm sandwich, munching as she circled the dower chest. In the past few days, she’d shown up every morning at nine, using the code Cam had given her to let herself in to work. He’d also written the key code to the house on a scrap of a brown paper bag, but she’d never used it. Going into his house was too familiar, too intimate. The little washroom he’d installed in the workshop was just fine for her needs, although she did have to give it a quick scrub the first day she was there by herself. Not that it was grubby, just not as spotless as she wanted it. If he noticed, he never mentioned it. The place was hers from nine to five, and she relished the peace of solitary creative work.
She hadn’t seen much of him since that first day—the rest of the hickory had come in, so he was busy up at the home overlooking the river that Walker Custom Homes division of Walker Construction was constructing for the Japanese businessman. He’d taken his tools out to the house to build the custom cabinets onsite, and he was gone in the morning before she arrived. He must’ve been working late into the night out there because she always locked up and left before he got home.
She was surprised that he’d turned the dower chest over to her so completely, giving her the code to the workshop and telling her do your thing, text me if you need me. He was checking her work each night after he got home—he’d left her sticky notes on the table that the piece sat on. Love this! Awesome! More yellow—Mom loves yellow. Medallions on the top are amazing! Every day, a couple of new messages. This morning, she found a smiley face and Wow, you’ve nailed this!
The chest was coming along. Harper was proud of her work. Using the pictures in the book and her own drawings as guides she’d created a literal festival of color with flowers, trees, hearts, and folk-art images that made her want to squee with happiness each morning when she came into Cam’s studio. And oh, how good it felt to be busy, to be doing something useful and creative. She realized after a couple of days that she’d almost entirely stopped talking to Drew. She still thought about him all the time, but she no longer spoke aloud, no longer wondered what he would think beyond believing he would be proud of her efforts.
She was also settling into her apartment above Mac’s garage. She liked the furniture that came with it and the colorful dishes and linens, but she’d asked her mom to go to her house in St. Clair Shores and pack up a select few of her personal things and some favorite paintings. Three cartons had arrived last night, and Harper had a wonderful time replacing Mac’s art with some of her own watercolors. One of Lake Michigan in the winter, another of children playing on the beach, a special one of a sunset over Lake St. Clair Pier, sailboats skimming across the water. Nothing that made her yearn for Drew. Rather some things that made the apartment more hers.
She finished her sandwich, decided to save the bear claw for lunch, and got to work. So focused was she on painting the figures in the medallions on the top of the chest that she didn’t hear the door open.
Cam’s “Hey,” made her jump and nearly drop her fine brush. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
Harper blinked, then examined the images she’d been working on to make sure she hadn’t accidentally brushed paint where it shouldn’t be. “It’s okay. What’s up?”
She looked up and realized he wasn’t alone. In fact, he had three other men with him—all of whom were clearly Walkers. The family resemblance was almost creepy.
Cam gave her a tentative smile. “My brother, Joe”—he pointed to a tall, brown-haired man closest to him and then to the other two crowded in behind them—“my cousins, Eli and Jack.” He extended his hand toward Harper. “Guys, Harper Gaines, artist extraordinaire.”
This time Harper did drop the paintbrush as heat suffused her cheeks. She bent down to pick it up at the same time Cam bent over and they bumped heads with a loud thwack. All the men groaned.
“That’s gotta hurt,” Joe said, grimacing.
Cam popped up, clutching the brush. “Oh, crap. Harp, I’m so sorry.” He reached out a hand to touch her head where they’d bumped but drew it back again just as quickly. “You okay?”
Harper wasn’t exactly seeing stars, but she’d sure felt the bump as she rubbed the spot under her bangs. “I’m fine.” Except now she was truly embarrassed as Cam’s family crowded around them both.
“You two need to take this act on the road,” Eli said with a snicker once they’d established that both she and Cam weren’t suffering. “But it’d be funnier with more paint.” He pointed to Harper’s face and handed her a clean, dry handkerchief. “You’ve got a spot right there.”
Harper waved the offer away and pulled a rag out of the back pocket of her overalls. “It’s nice to meet you all.” She narrowed her eyes at Cam. “You might have given me some warning.”
As the others walked around the dower chest, he merely grinned and shrugged.
Jack Walker, whose blond good looks were as off the charts as Cam’s, stooped to peer at the intricate stylized images she’d painted on the sides of dower chest. “These are incredible.”
The others mimicked his actions, examining each panel of the chest, pointing but careful not to touch. She’d been working on the top medallions that morning, so the paint on the chest box was dry. But she appreciated their caution.
“Mom’s going to love this,” Joe said and the others nodded.
“Thank you,” she murmured, standing back against the workbench and feeling a little overwhelmed at the four big men taking up all the air in the small garage.
“We came to take you to lunch,” Cam announced after they’d oohed and ahhed for a few minutes. “Mac’s special today is meatloaf sandwiches and fried potatoes with green beans. You don’t want to miss it.”
“I have lunch here, thanks.”
“Save it for tomorrow.” Cam took the recalcitrant brush from her fingers, dropped it in the bucket of soapy water, and grabbed her jacket off the brass hook, while Joe pressed the lid back on the can of paint she’d been using.
Harper stood her ground, resisting his attempt to slip her coat around her shoulders. “What if I don’t like meatloaf sandwiches?”
All four of them looked at her as if she’d said, what if I don’t like kittens and puppies? Eli recovered first. “You don’t?” The wonder in his voice was almost laughable.
The others, now halfway to the door, turned to wait for her response. And there was Cam, holding out her jacket with that aw-shucks-come-on grin and mischief twinkling in his eyes.
Her stomach fluttered. The thought of going to lunch with four men was daunting to say the least. But she hadn’t been back to the diner since her first meal with Cam and meatloaf sandwiches sounded better than pastry. She offered a feeble, “I’m not really dressed to go out to eat.”
“You’re overdressed for Mac’s,” Joe said with a wink. “C’mon.”
“Fine,” she grumbled and grabbed her coat from Cam. “But I’m paying for my own lunch.”
Cam laughed as he pulled the door shut behind them, making sure it was locked. “Hell, woman, with what I’m paying you, you can treat us all to lunch.”
*
Later that night, dressed in leggings, a tank top, and an oversized MSU sweatshirt her sister had sent her ages ago, Harper stood at the bottom of the stairs that led to Tierney Flaherty’s yoga studio. She wasn’t at all sure she was up for this, but she’d promised the aunts, and she had met several of the women from the class earlier that day at lunch with Cam. They’d practically threatened her if she didn’t show up to class.
She could hear them up there, chattering and laughing while they stretched, even as she lingered at the bottom of the stairs awash in trepidation. With a mental shake, she reminded herself that it was just yoga—no different from the yoga class she’d attended with Theo and her other friends every Tuesday and Thursday back in Michigan. Afterward, they’d all gone out for ice cream. Heck, maybe these woman had a similar tradition. She might as well go up or go back to her apartment—it was damn cold out there.
Shifting restlessly in the chill night air, she slowly put one foot on the bottom step just as a tall, leggy blonde flew past her on the steps with a “Sorry, ’scuse me. I’m late!”
But then the woman stopped within three steps and stared down at her, her blue eyes alight with curiosity. “Are you coming up?”
“Thinking about it.”
The blonde tipped her head toward the door to the studio. “Well stop thinking, and let’s go. Class starts in three minutes, and Tee is hard over about getting into that quiet meditative state before we begin our practice.” She raised one perfect brow. “Come on then.”
Jolted into action by the woman’s warm smile and matter-of-fact tone, Harper scurried up the stairs behind her.
The woman glanced over her shoulder. “I’m Annabelle Walker, by the way, Anna to my friends.”
“Harper Gaines.”
Anna’s smile grew bigger. “Ah, Cam’s Harper?”
The words nearly sent Harper back down the stairs. Cam’s Harper? No, Drew’s Harper. Her throat thickened and she swallowed hard as Anna opened the door to the studio. By then it was too late to respond, too late to back out, so she stiffened her spine and followed Anna in.
Among the dozen or so women in the vast, high-ceilinged room, she recognized Tierney Flaherty, the instructor, as the EMT from the morning of her aunts’ intervention. Also present were Jazz, Maddie Ross and Kara Sudbury, whom she’d met at lunch, and Carly from the diner. Tierney gave her a wave and a welcoming smile, as she pointed to a pile of yoga mats. “Pick one and let’s get started.”
The class was an hour of gentle yoga stretches and poses, most of which Harper knew from her classes in Michigan. Tierney talked them through each movement with precise instruction, occasionally coming to someone’s mat to assist. The class both energized and exhausted Harper, and she was more than ready to relax into resting meditation pose and listen to the soft flute music that signaled the end of class.
Lying flat on her back between Anna and Jazz, who had greeted her earlier with a warm smile, Harper tried to clear her mind. She’d done it. To focus on Tierney’s sing-song instructions and concentrate on the breath, deep inhale through the nose, long exhale from the mouth—a sigh to release all the tensions of the day. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. But suddenly, her heart pounded, rising to her throat so that she felt as if she were going to choke. Another deep breath and tears pooled in the corners of her closed eyes. One more and the tears rolled down her temples, dampening her hair.
Her next breath was shaky and she blinked, gazing at the huge pendant lights hanging from the ceiling. A movement in the corner of the room caught her eye. He was here. Drew. Right there, leaning against a stack of chairs, arms crossed over his chest, smiling that inscrutable smile that always made her heart speed up. She gasped and sat up, staring at the corner, but saw nothing there except a stack of chairs.
“Harper, you okay?” Tierney interrupted her slow instructions with the question.
“I-I…” Harper’s pulse increased even further and she wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her forehead on her knees as panic rose in her. A gentle touch on her shoulder and then Tierney’s voice above her.
“Hey now, deep breaths, Harp.” She tugged on Harper’s shoulder. “Lie back down.”
Harper did, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I-I … I’m s-so s-sorry. I don’t know what happened, I just—” She gulped, choking a little as her throat tightened. “Then I-I saw him… He … he was here!”
“Shh… You’re all good.” Tierney’s soft voice soothed as Harper tried to relax back into meditation pose.
She closed her eyes and deep shuddering sobs shook her. She’d done the whole class, only to lose it and God, am I going completely crazy? Hallucinating?
Tierney stroked her hands down Harper’s arm—a touch so light that at first she thought she imagined it. But then she felt Tierney’s fingers on her thigh, her calf, and the tops of her bare feet. Then there was a touch on her other side, and when she opened her eyes briefly, Jazz was beside her, too, stroking just like Tierney and murmuring small comforts.
Tierney turned to the class. “Come join us. Let’s circle Harper. Sit in Sukasana—easy pose—and focus all your energy on her.”
Harper’s first instinct was to jump up and flee, but Tierney’s relaxed manner, her soft voice and Jazz’s ministering fingers kept her on the mat. She took in deep swallows of air, allowing her breathing to go back to normal.
“Who’d you see, Harper?” Tierney asked quietly as she ran her hands over Harper’s forehead.
“My … my dead husband.” She closed her eyes again, trying to stop her racing thoughts. “God, I’m crazy, aren’t I?”
“What was he doing?”
Tierney’s question took her off-guard. “Smiling.” Abruptly, she sat up. “God, he was smiling. Like he … he was glad to see me here.”
“No doubt he is.” Jazz placed a hand between Harper’s shoulders and rubbed. “You came here tonight because you want to move on with your life, right?”
Harper nodded, closed her eyes, and leaned into Jazz’s massage. “Yes. I do.”
Somehow her new friend’s calm acceptance of what she believed she saw reassured Harper more than her own common sense trying to convince her that he was a hallucination bred from her grief.
Jazz’s voice was quiet but firm. “He’d want you to. If he loved you, he’d want you to find your life.”
Harper opened her eyes and looked around—the other women sat leg-crossed around her, their open palms on their knees. Some were nodding encouragingly, others merely offering kind smiles of support. She swallowed and sniffled, accepting a tissue from the box that Maddie Ross had magically produced. “He would. I want to try.”
“You’re here. You’re working your art. You’ve got your own place. Feels like a good start to me.” Annabelle Walker spoke up with a smile.
The whole group nodded agreement, and Tierney patted her shoulder and rose. Casually, she dusted her hands together as if someone falling apart was a regular occurrence in her yoga class. “Okay then, great class, everyone. See y’all next time.”
“I think we all need wine,” Maddie Ross said as she rolled up her mat. “Whaddya say, Harper?”
Harper took a deep breath as she stood and rolled up her mat. “Is there any place to get ice cream?”
Tierney looked at her watch. “Hey, I think that new place over on the corner at Harrison is open late.”
Maddie grinned. “What’s the Scoop! Don’t you love that name? I think they’re open ’til nine.”
Enthusiastic murmurs of yeah and oh, they have good ice cream from the rest of the class was all it took for Harper to raise her arms above her head in a cheering gesture. “Okay!” She dropped her arms just as quickly as the muscles in her triceps burned. “I’m going to be sore tomorrow, aren’t I?”
Tierney chuckled. “A little. But a few more classes and you’ll feel relaxed and calm after. Let’s go get some ice cream, ladies.”