Chapter 13: Chapter 12

A warm, furry body pressed against my leg as I sat perched on a stool at the Bloom counter. I looked down into pleading eyes. “Biscuit,” I warned. “Egg sandwiches are for people.”

He let out a short but piercing bark.

My eyes narrowed on him. “That is not how to get what you want.”

Biscuit plunked his butt on the floor, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“That’s better.” I broke off a piece of bacon sticking out of my breakfast creation. “Down.”

Biscuit immediately dropped his belly to the concrete.

I let go of the piece of bacon, and the dog caught it easily.

“You’re going to give that dog bad manners,” a deep voice warned.

At the sound, Biscuit was instantly up, snarling and barking. He put his paws on the counter, trying to see over it to the other side.

Trace simply arched an eyebrow, his sheriff’s star shining as he shifted to get a better look. “At least you’ve got an early warning system now. Thinking about keeping this one?”

“I foster them. The whole point is to get them ready for their forever families.”

Trace leaned against the counter, his gaze still on Biscuit, who had finally stopped growling but was sticking close. “You don’t want to be a forever family?”

Twitchiness swept through me, but I did my best not to show it. Trace saw too much as it was. “I like helping them on their path. If I had a pet at home, they might not get along with my fosters. It could create all sorts of problems.”

Trace made a humming noise in the back of his throat.

“So,” I said, searching for something—anything—that would deflect Trace’s analytical focus on me. “You talk to Arden lately?”

I was the worst sister ever. Throwing Arden under the bus was lower than low. But everyone was always a little worried about her. Maybe because she was the youngest, maybe because of what she’d been through.

Trace stiffened. “Something wrong? Someone bothering her⁠—?”

I shook my head quickly. “No, no. Nothing like that.” Shit. I should’ve known our most protective sibling would freak. “I just haven’t seen her in a while. I need to go over there. Maybe I’ll bring her a plant.”

Trace relaxed, the tension bleeding out of his muscles. “You know you’re not going to see her unless you go over there.”

That was a bit of an exaggeration, but it was true that Arden rarely left the guesthouse on Cope’s massive property. She served as a sort of caretaker for the place while he was up in Seattle playing hockey, but it was a mostly made-up position. A way to give her someplace safe and quiet to make her art.

But she did venture out for family dinners or to go into town for supplies. Just not much else.

“I’ve been falling down on the whole sister gig,” I muttered.

Trace reached over, squeezing my shoulder. “Never. But you are falling down on letting us know what’s going on.”

It was my turn to stiffen.

Trace pinned me with that all-too-knowing stare. “You had a panic attack.”

I blew out a breath. Who knew that Anson, a man who could barely string two sentences together, had such a big mouth? But I knew it wasn’t actually him. He’d told Shep, and Shep would share it with anyone he thought needed to be in the loop.

“As you can see, I’m just fine. It was a surprise, that’s all. But I have to get used to seeing photos and mementos. It won’t be long before I can get into the house to go through things.”

Concern swept over Trace’s face. “You don’t have to do this, Rho.”

I met his gaze, forcing myself not to look away. “I know that. But I want to. I miss them.”

Being brought into the Colsons’ fold had been a beautiful thing. Some foster kids didn’t like the idea of being a part of a new family, but I’d welcomed being surrounded by their care and love. While I didn’t call Nora Mom, she knew she would always be that to me in all the ways that mattered. I’d slipped easily into thinking of Cope, Shep, Trace, and Arden as siblings. Even Kye, who’d come to live with us later. And I’d always thought of Fallon as a sister.

But that didn’t mean I missed my family any less. Their absence was an ache I felt each and every day. We’d shared things that I’d never have with anyone else.

Sympathy swept across Trace’s face. “Of course, you do. But they wouldn’t want you to put yourself through something that could affect your mental health.”

I gripped the edge of the counter, letting it press into my palms. “I want to remember them.” I’d boxed them away for so long because I couldn’t deal with the reality of them being gone. I was ready now. I didn’t want to pretend like they never existed anymore.

I felt more than a small amount of guilt about that. But I knew none of them would want that. They’d want me to go at my own pace. When I felt overwhelmed growing up, my dad would bend down to meet my eyes and say, “You can only do what you can do.”

Trace sighed. “Okay. But I don’t want you doing it alone. And I don’t want people leaving damn photos on your porch. It’s like a sneak attack. Shep’s having a word with the crew.”

I groaned. “He doesn’t need to have a word. I’m a grown-up. I can deal.”

“Maybe so, but you’ve also got family who cares about you. You’re not alone in this.”

Knowing that was the most beautiful pain. Knowing that I’d been given this amazing ragtag group of humans because I’d lost my family. I took in a lungful of air, letting the scents of flowers in the greenhouse fill my senses. It grounded me and reminded me to be grateful for the here and now.

“Thanks, T,” I said softly.

“Anytime.” He pinned me with another of those Trace stares. “You tell me if any more shit gets dropped on your doorstep.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled.

“I’m serious, Rho. I don’t like someone nosing around.”

A shiver raced across my skin at the thought, but I shoved the sensation away. “It’s just someone on the crew trying to be helpful.”

Trace grunted. “Either way, I want to know.”

“Okay,” I promised. “I’ll tell you.”

“Thank you.” Trace tapped the counter twice. “I’ll check on you later. Keep that dog close.”

I rolled my eyes but waved to him. Bending down, I scratched Biscuit between the ears. “He’s kind of overbearing, huh?”

Footsteps sounded, and I looked up to see Duncan approaching.

“Saw Trace stop by in uniform. Everything okay?” he asked, little lines appearing between his brows.

“Totally fine. Just checking in big-brother-style.”

Duncan didn’t seem convinced. “He doesn’t usually do that when he’s on duty. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

I fought the urge to scream. “They’re all just being a little extra attentive now that I’m back at the Victorian.” I couldn’t bring myself to say home. Not yet.

“Rho.” Duncan’s entire face morphed into sympathy. He reached across the counter and took my hand in his. The action was so startling I had to fight the urge to jerk back. Duncan and I were friendly but not touchy-feely. We hugged once in a blue moon, but that was it. He squeezed my hand. “Maybe it’s too much. Maybe you should stay in the cottage in town.”

I tugged my hand out of his grasp, shoving it beneath the counter. “There’s already another tenant there.”

“There are plenty of other places to stay. You know you’re always welcome in my guesthouse. For as long as you want.”

Duncan’s offer was more than kind, but it annoyed me somehow. “I’m good where I am. It’s where I want to be.”

He opened his mouth but then closed it again, sighing. “All right. But my offer doesn’t have a time limit.”

“Thank you,” I said, my voice stiff.

Duncan shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Your friend came by while you were on break.”

I frowned. “My friend?”

“Thea.”

I brightened at that news. “Did you interview her? What’d you think? She’s super nice and knowledgeable about plants.”

Duncan chuckled. “I offered her the job, and she took it.”

“That’s amazing! Thank you so much. I know she’ll be an asset to the team.”

Duncan scrubbed a hand over his cheek. “She knows more than a lot of people we currently have on staff.” He paused for a moment. “You know what the request to be paid in cash is all about?”

I shook my head. “No clue.”

“It’s weird. She said to go ahead and report it to the IRS, gave me her social and everything, but just asked that I not store anything electronically.”

I frowned. “She said something about not being a fan of technology. She doesn’t have a phone or email.”

Duncan let out a low whistle. “Can’t imagine not having my cell.”

It was my turn to laugh. “You mean you can’t imagine not being able to play Candy Crush on your breaks.”

Color hit his cheeks. “Truth. Speaking of, I’m about due for my fix.”

“Enjoy,” I called as he headed toward the door.

I made quick work of finishing my sandwich, giving in to Biscuit’s pleading eyes twice. “I’m hopeless,” I muttered as I slid off the stool.

Biscuit just licked his lips in answer.

I headed down each aisle of plants, taking inventory of how everything was doing. I paid close attention to the seedlings, as it was easy for them to go the wrong direction—and fast—but they were thriving. I swore they’d grown an inch since yesterday.

“Hey, Rho,” a masculine voice greeted.

I straightened and turned to face the man. Same tanned skin, amber eyes, and kind smile. That smile would always remind me of simpler times when I thought a kiss was the answer to all my hopes and dreams. “Hi, Felix. How are you?”

He smiled wider. “Good. Just picking up a few things for my mom. She’s determined to outdo Ms. Cathy next door with her pots this year.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, given everything I pulled for her earlier, she shouldn’t have any problems. It’s all in the loading area, but I can ring you up in here.”

“Thanks. That’d be great.”

I led the way to the counter. At the sound of approaching people, Biscuit scrambled up. He let out a low growl as he caught sight of Felix.

“Easy, Biscuit. He’s a friend.”

Felix took in the dog. “New foster?”

I nodded as I went in search of Mrs. Hernandez’s invoice. “Not the biggest fan of men, but we’re working on it.”

“You’ll get him fixed up,” Felix assured me.

I tugged the piece of paper out of a file folder. “I hope so. That’ll be six hundred thirty-six dollars and thirteen cents.”

“Jesus,” he muttered. “She really went to town.”

I bit back my laugh. “I hope you brought your truck.”

Felix handed me his credit card. “I have a feeling that’s why she asked me to run this little errand for her.”

“She always was a smart woman.”

I could feel Felix’s eyes on me as I punched in the amount on the credit card machine without looking up.

He shuffled his feet, his boots scraping against the cement floor. “Heard you’re back at your parents’ place.”

“Small towns,” I muttered. “Nothing’s secret.”

Felix chuckled, the sound warm and easy. “I’m glad for you. I know it has to be a mixed bag, but I think it’s good you can finally go home again.”

I lifted my gaze to his. “Thank you.” I was pretty sure he was the first person to tell me he was happy for me. And, God, I’d needed that more than I realized.

Felix took his credit card back from me. “If you need an extra set of hands for anything, just let me know.”

“Will do.”

I watched as he headed out of the greenhouse, his words swirling in my head. It’s good you can finally go home again.

It was good. I just had to make it through the hard to get to that good. Panic attacks and all.