Page 93 of The Moment He Saw Her

“I-I—” She sniffed loudly in a very unladylike manner that would have her mother hyperventilating. “—need to go, J-June.”

“Focus on me now, dear. Breathe in for three, that’s it,” she encouraged when Libby did as she asked. “Hold for four, and out for five. Again.” She stood there doing as June asked her and felt her shoulders slowly lower and the tightness in her chest ease slightly.

“Thank you, June, that helped,” Libby said. “But I need to go now.”

“You’re not leaving Lyntacky, surely? You and Ryder?—”

“I don’t know, but there is no me and Ryder. Goodbye, June.” She hugged the woman hard and then walked away, heading to the Rollaway, leaving her father and brother still in the middle of the street with Bart talking at them. They would be too polite to cut him off.

Libby needed a drink, and seeing as she rarely drank, it was a testament to just how she was feeling. She’d left the café, and Ryder, but had no idea what her next move should be. Usually, she could work through her problems logically, lately that hadn’t worked out so well.

Pushing open the door, she heard the low hum of voices. Lyntacky and all its buildings were now more familiar to her than her hometown. She would forever smell spiced wine in any form and think of the Rollaway.

It was busy with tourists because of the Lynpicks and other things taking place in town. She made her way to the bar and sat on an empty stool.

“Hey there, Libby girl, how are things?” Red said, giving her his big, gentle smile.

“Could I please have a drink, Red?” Libby said.

“Well, it is a bar, so sure thing. You okay?” He bent and peered into her eyes. “Because you look off.”

“Off how?”

“Like you want to destroy your favorite toy and cry about it afterward,” he said.

Libby sniffed again, then looked at her hands stacked on the bar, willing the tears away. The large hand that settled briefly on her head had some of them leaking out.

“It’s okay now, honey, you just sit there as long as you need. How about I get you one of those warm ciders you like?” Red said.

“Y-yes, please, Red, and I need to tell you something.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“My name is Libby Caldwell, not Libby Gulliver.”

“Okay. One cider coming right up.”

“I lied to you and everyone, Red.”

She watched him ladle the liquid into the mug and return. “So I heard, but I know you enough to understand you likely had a good reason.”

“I thought I did,” she whispered.

“You want me to beat someone up for you?”

“R-Red, no offense, but you need to stop being nice because I’m only just holding it t-together here.”

“Right, gotcha. Did I ever tell you I hate accountants? Stuffy lot with no humor and shit all personality.”

Her laugh sounded strangled, but it was a laugh.

“Elizabeth.”

She was Elizabeth again.“Go home, Father, and take your yes-man with you.”

“I beg your pardon? What the hell did you just call me?” Samuel demanded.

“You heard,” Libby announced, sounding like the ten-year-old she’d never been but now saw the appeal of. Maybe if she’d been mouthier and spoken her mind, she wouldn’t now be in this predicament. But then Libby wouldn’t have met Ryder, either, and even though she’d messed everything up with him, she could never regret that.

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