Page 34 of The Guest Cottage

Best of all, she learned that Cort was right: getting a worry out in the open also helped to get it out of your head. She stopped dodging Sandra and instead answered her calls. Pleasantly, because she didn’t like herself when she got snide. She expressed her concern, sympathized, but she remained firm that she would not return.

Why go back to a life she no longer wanted when her new life was so much fun?

She’d settled Dylan’s outstanding bills, either with payment or with notification of his death. After all, it wasn’t the lenders’ fault that he couldn’t meet his obligations.

It was nearing eight o’clock on Thursday when the tavern suddenly went quiet. Arms laden with a heavy tray of empty plates, Marlow glanced from one familiar face to another, then tracked their gazes to the front door.

There stood Sandra and Aston Heddings.

The sudden appearance of a unicorn wouldn’t have attracted so much gawking attention.

Quickly turning away, Marlow decided to duck into the kitchen. Not that she’d dodge her in-laws, but she didn’t want to greet them with her arms full. She’d only taken three steps when she heard Aston say, “Marlow?” with the same incredulity he would have given to the unicorn.

Sighing, she pivoted back and said, “Hey, you two. Come on in and grab a seat. I’ll be right back.” The words nearly choked her, though she used them all the time when greeting customers.

But for Mr. and Mrs. Heddings? She felt certain that particular phrase had never been issued to them.

She was only in the kitchen a second when Cort came in behind her.

“Here.” He relieved her of the tray and set it aside with a lot more ease than she would have, especially with her hands now trembling.

Their friendship—or something more than friendship—had grown since she’d shared her secrets in her kitchen. Not in physical ways, but they were definitely closer, and they’d spent additional time together over recent days, which was probably why he didn’t hesitate to cup her face and bend his knees to look directly into her eyes.

“Your in-laws?”

She nodded, further words sort of stuck in her gullet. “You could tell?”

“They smell of money, so yeah, I could tell.”

She caught his meaning easily enough. The way they wore their clothes, their bearing, the way they had of looking at others spoke of privilege in a way few would misunderstand.

“Any idea what they’re doing here?”

She shook her head. “Other than being disruptive, I don’t have a clue.” The tavern was still far too silent, and as she closed her eyes, Marlow was easily able to picture the tense scene. The Heddings would stand there, eyeing the place with disfavor while the customers eyed them with distrust. There’d be no avoiding the upcoming scene, so she opened her eyes again. Might as well face reality.

At least it was a weeknight, not a busy weekend. “I have another hour to work.”

Herman came rushing toward her. “Go do something with those people!”

Cort frowned at him. “Give her a second.”

“No one is moving,” Herman said in a near panic. “No one is eating or drinking. You could hear a pin drop. I swear I just heard Bren burp.” He tucked in his chin. “Don’t want to tell you what I heard Floyd do. No one is used to its being so quiet.”

That was just the type of nonsense she needed to hear to get her back in focus. She smiled to reassure Herman. “I’ll need a quick break to handle things.”

His relief was so great, he said, “Take the rest of the night off.”

“Oh, no. I’m not cutting you short.” No way would she let Sandra and Aston impose on Herman’s business. “I’m supposed to be here until closing, and by God, I’ll be here. This shouldn’t take long. I’m sure they don’t want to be here any more than I want them here.”

That statement got Herman puffed up with indignation. “What’s wrong with here?”

“Not a thing.” She patted his chest. “Iloveit here, but they won’t. So fifteen minutes, okay? At that point, feel free to give me a prompt.”

Cort understood before Herman did. He glanced at the wall clock. “Fifteen. Got it.”

On impulse, she put her palm to his jaw. A quick, simple touch that fortified her. His gaze snagged hers and held. She knew he wouldn’t budge from the place until she’d finished her confrontation. Cort was rock solid in ways other people could never manage. “Thank you.”

Covering her hand with his, he turned his face and kissed her palm. “Fifteen, no more.”

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