Page 76 of The Guest Cottage

“See? Another amazing compliment.”

If he didn’t leave now, he’d be late. “Stay on guard today, okay? Let me know if you see any strangers around. I have some work to do for Wade, Gloria, and Bobbi, then I’m getting the extra lights I want to add so you and Pixie can see anyone who comes around at night.” He also planned to look into front and back door cameras. “I should finish up around six, which will still give me time to get everything installed.”

“Such a long day. I’m going to call Sandra, then check on Pixie. After that, if I can arrange it, I want to look at a few of those buildings. I’ll be back by six, though, so would you mind if I hang out with you?”

He’d prefer it. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted, but now, with a possible threat in town, he’d like to keep an eye on her around the clock. Not that he’d tell her so. He knew on a gut level that she’d wouldn’t like overprotectiveness any more than he would, so he said simply, “Sounds good.”

By the time he pulled out of her driveway, he was running behind, but hopefully he’d cleared the air a little with Marlow. She needed to know that he liked the person she was, the way she’d reacted to Pixie, the way she embraced the town.

And he especially liked her honesty.

So far, there wasn’t a single thing he didn’t like.

But there were a few things he was starting to . . . love.

* * *

Marlow returned to her kitchen chair, took a few deep breaths, and then called Sandra. It threw her when her mother-in-law answered with an enthusiastic, “Marlow! It’s so nice to hear from you.”

Well, good thing this wasn’t a video call or Sandra would see her blank-faced surprise. The greeting sounded sincere and almost too happy. “Sandra. Good morning.”

“You haven’t returned my last few calls, and I was worried. I hope all is well with you.”

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.” She detected no guilt in Sandra’s voice, but that might not mean anything. Often Sandra and Aston did things they shouldn’t and felt no remorse. This could be one of those times. “I’m working at the tavern—and having a wonderful time of it—but I get home late.”

Three beats of silence passed before Sandra said, “You enjoy working in a tavern. Is that a joke?”

“Not at all.” Knowing her statement had to be a shock to Sandra, Marlow made an attempt to explain. “After everything that’s happened this past year, I wanted a complete and total change. New people, new scenery. Being away from city life, living in this quiet little town and getting to know my neighbors, staying busy with a job that’s the total opposite of my old position . . . it’s rejuvenated me.”

“You’re trying to forget Dylan.”

There was both accusation and understanding in the words. Marlow held back a frustrated sigh. “No. That isn’t even possible.”

“Good! He should be remembered, now and always.”

So many times, Sandra had deliberately chosen to forget just how bad her marriage to Dylan had been. There was no point in reminding her again. “Sandra, I need to ask you something and I hope you’ll be honest.”

“Of course, you can have your old job back.” She laughed with relief. “We’ve been waiting,notso patiently, for you to make that decision. We temporarily filled the position, and young Mr. Williams is doing a fine job, but he’s not you, Marlow. He doesn’t breathe life into the company as you did.”

Marlow thought if her eyes widened any more, they’d probably fall out of her head. Somehow, her mother-in-law had managed to completely misjudge what she’d been about to say while at the same time giving effusive praise.

The type of praise she’d never given before.

“I’m sorry,” Marlow said. “You misunderstand. I’m not asking to return. Iwon’treturn.” Her frustration expanded. “I’m not off on a lark. Not indulging a temporary eccentricity. I’m making deliberate choices that please me.” Her voice rose, no matter how she tried to control it. “This ismytime, Sandra. I have no obligation to anyone else, no other responsibilities except to enjoy my life as I see fit. I really wish you’d believe me.”

“You sold his house.”

“It wasourhouse, and yes, I sold it. As you pointed out, that house was practically designed by Dylan. He loved it far more than I ever did. As a woman alone, I didn’t need that much space”—or the painful reminder of a failed marriage—“and I didn’t want to live in the area anymore. There was no reason for me to keep it.”

Defiantly, Sandra stated, “I took all of his things.”

“I’m glad.” Marlow meant it. If it helped Sandra cope with her grief, she could build a shrine to Dylan, with all of his personal belongings on display. However, she could not expect Marlow to build it with her. “I actually called for another reason.”

“Other than ripping out my heart, you mean?”

Now there was the Sandra she’d known for so long. This time, Marlow released her sigh. Loudly. “My intent has never been to hurt you or Aston. I wish you both only the best.” Could they say the same in return? Certainly didn’t seem so. Her happiness had never been considered, much less prioritized. She understood that, but from now on, Marlow would do what was best for herself.

That determination brought her back to the reason for her call. “I have a question for you.” Wasting no more time, she asked, “Did you send someone to this town? A private detective, maybe?” Again, without giving Sandra time to formulate an answer, she said, “There was a stranger on my road, poking around and peeking in windows.”

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