Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
As soon as I settled into my bed in the bunkhouse, I planned to take out my laptop and start digging. I hadn’t had enough time earlier to really get to the good stuff, and something about Augie’s skittishness made me antsy enough to want to learn more.
When I arrived at the ranch, my truck tires crunched over the long gravel drive before coming to a stop in front of the low, wide house with the wraparound porch. Doc and Grandpa sat together on an outdoor love seat with a big flannel blanket wrapped around them and Doc’s head resting on Grandpa’s wide shoulder. It was a sight so familiar and comforting, I felt it deep into my bones.
I was home.
Chapter 7
Augie
I realized I’d zoned out in the middle of Charlie’s story about whatever Netflix series he and Hudson were hooked on these days. “I’m sorry.”
Charlie reached a hand across the battered wooden surface of the antique farinier I used to check out customers at the shop. “It’s okay. But you’ve been drifting off more than usual lately. Is everything okay?”
The man had become the closest thing to a friend I had here in Hobie in the six months since I’d moved back.
“Someone broke into the farmhouse,” I admitted, pulling off my glasses to swipe them clean with a cloth from one of the drawers in the farinier. I didn’t mention the car thing from the night before. “It happened last week. I guess it still has me a bit rattled. I’m not sleeping very well at night.”
Charlie’s expressive face dropped into surprise. “Does Seth know?”
I laughed. Hobie was small enough that half the town was related to the sheriff, including Charlie’s partner, Hudson. “Yes, he knows. I called 911 and they came out immediately. There wasn’t much they could do. The burglar took the usual. Laptop, wallet, etc. The only other things missing were a jar of old keys and some antique writing boxes from my slope collection.”
Charlie looked at me like I was speaking Greek. I tried to clarify. “The boxes were each worth several hundred dollars and easy to grab.”
He blinked at me. “And a country boy looking for easy money would know that how?”
It was the question most on my own mind. I shrugged. “I don’t want to think about it. The only place around here to fence something like that is with me. So now, I’m terrified I’m going to turn around one day to check out a customer and come face-to-face with my own burglars here in the shop.”
“Shit, Augie,” Charlie said, reaching down to pluck my cat, Milo, up from where he was running figure eights through Charlie’s legs. “Maybe you need some extra security around here. You know… Saint is a security special—”
“Saint can’t know about the break-in,” I blurted.
“Why not?”
I tried toning down the freak-out. “I just don’t want everyone knowing my business, that’s all.”
“But while he’s in town, you might as well take advantage of his knowledge about security measures.”
“He doesn’t normally live in Hobie?”
“He lives and works in Dallas. You didn’t know that?” Milo’s loud purr and face-bumping distracted Charlie while my head spun. Why was Saint the one in Hobie giving me self-defense lessons if he didn’t normally live and work here?
The shop door opened with the tinkle of a bell. I scurried over to help the mail carrier with a stack of boxes. “Mrs. Parnell, let me grab some of those,” I said to the older woman. “If they’re the books I’ve been expecting, they’re probably super heavy.”
“Good morning, Augie,” she said with her usual energy. “I heard about the break-in at Melody’s old place. Any leads yet on the perps?”
In addition to being one of many town gossips, I suspected Mrs. Parnell was also an avid television watcher. If she knew about the burglary, I could forget any expectation of privacy.
“You’d have to ask the sheriff, I’m afraid,” I said, grabbing the entire stack of boxes from her and turning to take them to the back room. I didn’t see Charlie’s dog, Mama, dart out to greet our visitor, and I tripped over her, tipping toward the wooden floor face-first. With my arms full of boxes, there was no hope of surviving the fall without major damage.
I heard Charlie’s high-pitched screech as well as Mrs. Parnell’s shout of warning before two strong bands of muscle grabbed me and pulled me upright. One of the boxes tumbled out of my grip, but while I bobbled the other two, I caught the familiar scent of Saint Wilde’s unique aftershave. Before I could accidentally pitch the remaining boxes onto the floor to join the third, Saint reached around and took them out of my arms, stepping over to the cashier stand to set them down on a steady surface.
“Good morning, Charlie,” he said as if he hadn’t just saved me from breaking my face on the rough wooden boards of the antique shop floor. “I was hoping to find you here.” That last part was mumbled into my ear rather than said to Charlie. The deep, low voice set all the hair on my body into high alert.