Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
And I supposed I deserved the suspicion. They most likely thought I was a thief and a probable dog-napper too.
Mrs. Buchanan glanced back once as they walked away, toward the low gate that separated the patio from the street. A young woman who’d been sitting by the front stood and joined Mrs. Buchanan, looping her arm with hers. She didn’t resemble Gage, but I remembered he’d told me his sister was adopted. Was it her? Here in town for his going-away party? How stupid I was. I’d just been talking about the potential of going with him to London when really, I hadn’t even properly met his family, and now knew they all hated me.
I was a joke.
I turned quickly away. Oh God. I put my trembling hands over my hot face, feeling the eyes of the lunch crowd at this popular spot in Calliope. Faith stood, and from the corner of my eye, I thought I saw her drop some money on the table even though we hadn’t even eaten. She ushered me out of there, turning in the opposite direction the women had gone. Behind me, I heard the buzz of conversation rise, the gossips quickly springing into action.
I hefted my suitcase as Faith walked me to the door. “Rory, please stay one more day. I don’t want you driving in this state!”
I set my suitcase down. “I’m okay. I promise. I just want to get home.”
Faith nodded, her expression filled with sympathy. “If Malcolm Sherrybrook calls—”
“Faith, it’s over. Malcolm Sherrybrook was my last hope, and he probably already knows what the rest of Calliope knows by now—that I’m a fraud.” I didn’t find my father and now I was also a pariah. Oh, plus my broken heart. My plan had really gone to shit. Then again, maybe finding my father had always been a fool’s errand. “I don’t want them to punish you for what I did. I’m so sorry. Your gallery—”
“My gallery is fine. Like I told you, the only reason they even let me into their homes is that I regularly mingle with them at charity events and they’re not likely to bar me from those. Most of them have never spent a dime in my gallery and I’m managing just fine. Better than fine, thank you very much.”
Maybe she was exaggerating a bit about her lack of concern, but I really hoped she wasn’t because that would mean I’d ruined not only my life, but hers too. And I’d eventually recover. If her business took a hit, I’d never forgive myself. I gave her a wan smile.
“Hey, we did this together. I was all in, remember?”
“Yeah.” I let out a breath. “You’re a really good friend, Faith.”
“Aw, come here.” She gathered me in her arms and hugged me just as my phone started ringing. I pulled back and took my phone out, frowning when I saw an unknown local number. “Hello?” I said, putting it on speaker so Faith could hear.
“Hi, Rory? It’s Bree Hale.”
I blinked. Bree and Haven and I had texted each other our numbers before I left the Fourth of July gathering, but I hadn’t yet programmed in her name. “Hi, Bree. How are you?”
“I’m…good. Um, are you available to come over?”
I met Faith’s curious gaze, giving her a small shrug. “Is something wrong?”
“No, no. I just, well, I have some information on that drawing you showed me, but I’d like to tell you in person if that’s okay. Haven is here too.”
My stomach rose in my throat. I was tempted to tell them to forget it, I wasn’t interested in taking this any further, but my curiosity got the best of me. “I…yes, of course. I can be there in half an hour. Where do you live?”
After writing down Bree’s address across the lake in Pelion and saying goodbye, I looked at Faith. “Do you want to come with me?”
“Absolutely. Let’s go.”
The wooden gate was open when we pulled up to the address where the GPS had led us down a winding, picturesque road flanked by pine trees that showed glimpses of the glistening lake beyond.
I leaned inside, Faith on my heels and drew in a breath before I pushed the gate open wider. “Oh, wow,” I said, my nerves calming as I took in the gorgeous, peaceful property.
Muted light seeped through the feathery branches, the blue sparkle of the water shifting between the gaps in the green. I could hear the soft waves of the lake meeting the shore and smell the sharp scent of the trees. An emerald lawn rolled out in front of us, a cobblestone path just to the side that led to a cottage with a wide front porch flanked by pots of bright red flowers.
A sanctuary.
And there was something about it that felt familiar in an abstract, misty way—not as if I’d been there before, but as though I’d dreamed about it long ago and forgotten most of the details even as the feeling remained.