Jessica Patch - Concealed Identity

“Kill me?” Blair massaged her aching neck. “Hector is complicated. He was angry when I told him I didn’t want to live on his ranch and let him take care of me. But when I explained I wanted to move here to where Grandma and Grandpa had lived, he changed his tune. Gave me his blessing and offered me money to start up the business and buy a house.”

“Did you accept it?”

Blair frowned. “Hardly. I wanted freedom. Hector’s gifts are like chains. I’d never ask him for anything. It’s not worth the future debt.”

Gigi laced her fingers with Blair’s. “He didn’t care you changed your name back to Sullivan?”

“Not after I told him I wanted to move to Hope and start fresh. Stay out of the limelight. Honestly, I believe God gave me favor in Hector’s eyes.” What other reason could there be for Hector extending such grace when he wasn’t a gracious man?

Gigi rubbed her chin. “You think what happened today had anything to do with Hector? Have you crossed him somehow? Would he think you’ve crossed him?”

No. Hector wouldn’t have tried to kill her. At least, she didn’t think he would. Unless he thought she’d stolen something from him, but she hadn’t. Confusion’s web spun fast enough to make her dizzy. “I don’t think so. But we can’t go to the police. You see why now.” And after the note and disgusting gift, she didn’t dare.

“Did Mateo have anything to do with Jeremy’s drug problem?”

“No. Unfortunately, Jeremy got into all that long before Mateo entered the picture. I hid it even from Jeremy. I had to.”

“So what do we do?”

That was the question. “Right now you try to rest. Then we’ll watch an old movie and eat some dinner.” And she’d call Jeremy again. This could still be something he had ties to. “From now on, lock the doors. Don’t be so friendly with strangers. And watch your back.”

Gigi nodded. “Okay,” she whispered. “But no more keeping things from me. Got it?”

Blair pursed her lips. “From this point on.” Meaning what she’d found in the bedroom was off-limits. She had to protect Gigi. She was already terrified enough.

After trying to take their minds off things with TV and a light dinner, Blair changed into a pair of work jeans and boots. Might as well start on unloading the items from the auction before the sun went down. She drove the truck out to the barn and raised the rolling door. A wave of musty heat popped her in the face, sending sweat trickling down her cheeks. She paused at a noise outside the barn and waited. Hairs rose on her arms and she could hardly breathe.

After what seemed like forever, she wrangled herself inside the truck.

She should have taken Holt up on his muscle.

“Hey,” a deep voice sounded from behind.

Blair jumped and shrieked, clasping her hand to her chest. “Holt.” So not telling him that she was just thinking about him. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” He swept his dark bangs from his eyes. “Thought I’d check up on you.”

In the barn? Prickles ran up her spine. She wanted to trust him. She honestly did. “Did you see anyone out there?” Or had the noise been Holt?

“No. Why? Did you?”

“No. But I thought I heard something. Must have been you or my neighbor’s horses. I’m jumpy.”

“Understandable.” Holt scanned the barn and cocked his ear, listening. After a moment, he relaxed. “How’s Gigi?”

Blair forced herself to loosen up. “She’s doing all right. I thought I’d come out and work on unloading the truck, take inventory. Get a look at everything I purchased.” As Ronnie Lawson had pointed out, this was her ritual. Just her and all the goods. She would determine what went into the store, and what would stay stocked in the barn, for now. She liked to imagine the previous owners and the stories behind the objects.

“Can I help?” He stood there, all broad shoulders, no danger in his eyes—just tenderness and concern that nearly sent her reeling. Had anyone ever looked at her like that? Mateo at first. But it had all been lies. “I know you have a thing about going through it alone, but I’d really like to help you, Blair. In so many ways.” His whisper clung to her insides, disarming her guard.

A few Appaloosas grazed near the fence. She’d meant to bring them apples. “I’m used to doing things alone.” It was safer than offering her trust only to have it betrayed.

“I get that. And you seem completely capable. But...I’m here and I have two capable hands, too.” He splayed them on his sides, his white T-shirt clinging to rock-solid biceps and chest.

Could she trust him? They were just collectibles, but she did love her routine. She also dreaded some of the heavy lifting.

“All right. Sure.” She didn’t like being out here alone anyway. If she was really alone. It felt as if a million eyes were staring at her.

She grabbed her work gloves and donned them, her hands instantly turning clammy from the insulation. “I might have an extra pair.” She held up her gloved hands. “Over there on that worktable.”

Holt nodded and rummaged through tools and odds and ends until he found some. “How long have you lived in Hope?”

“Couple of years. My grandparents grew up here. They were happy in Hope. Plus, I love the name of the town and I needed it—hope—when I first settled in.”

“Where are you from originally?” He grabbed a tote from the truck, and Blair motioned for him to stack it near the back wall.

“All over.” She laughed. “Military brat. What about you?”

“I grew up in Memphis. Spent a lot of summers in a town like this. Glory, Mississippi. My grandpa was the sheriff and my grandmother ran a lot of women’s groups...and kept me and my cousin Bryn in line.”

Blair liked the way his eyes lit up as he talked of his grandparents. “My grandpa died when I was very young, but I treasure the memories. Grandma Viola passed shortly after I graduated high school. What about yours?”

“My grandpa died a few years back, but Grandma Mavis is still kickin’ and thinking she’s thirty and not eighty-two. I haven’t seen her since last summer.”

“You should go. See her. You never know how much time you have with someone you love.”

“You’re right.”

Blair heard the heartache in his voice. Who had he lost? That was private and she didn’t want to pry by asking, but she was curious. She focused back on the task at hand. “We can arrange everything in categories. After that, I’ll log each item with a short description, how much I think it’s worth—unless I need an expert. Once I nail down prices, I’ll determine what will go into my store and what will stay in inventory.”

“I know we’re not supposed to covet, but right now I’m coveting your organizational skills. You should help me organize my store.” He continued unloading totes, bags, furniture and garbage sacks full of junk.

Holt lifted a hefty tub and carried it to the housewares piles. “Clearly, you’re in great shape, but some of this is seriously heavy. You never have any help?”

Heat crept into her face, and she brushed the hair sticking to her sweaty cheek with her forearm. “My brother helps out sometimes, after I’ve looked through it. But he’s...unavailable. And Gigi mostly whines, so I don’t even ask. Occasionally, Jace Black from the Black-Eyed Pea helps. Or Mitch Rydell. Have you met him yet? He’s my neighbor. Owns those horses.” She pointed toward the pasture.

“I haven’t met anyone officially.” He sat on the tub, took off his gloves and raked his hands through his damp hair. “Maybe you can introduce me around.”

“Maybe.”

“So, why’s your brother unavailable?” Holt surveyed the barn, taking his sweet time, as if hunting down something. Or maybe she was being paranoid again.