Page 32 of Where the Roses Bloom
Whit lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. No offense meant. You know how it is—I see a beautiful woman in your orbit, I assume she’s lost.”
I laughed—couldn’t help it.
Whit winked. “Welcome to the family, Willow.”
I opened my mouth to correct him—this wasn’t that, not officially—but Rhett didn’t let go of me and didn’t say a word to counter it. He just stood there, hand on my back, jaw set.
Before I could dwell on that, Delilah perked up and waved over someone else. I squinted across the crowd to find two more of Rhett’s clones: Beau, who I’d already met, and another I hadn’t met yet. He was the one who looked the most like Rhett, but…meaner. Like a shade of the man I knew.
Beau’s grin was easy as ever, a little grease still under his nails like he’d come straight from the garage. The other brother was tall—taller than Rhett by a hair—and broad in the shoulders…but something about the way he carried himself felt heavier, like he was made of stone instead of flesh. His hair was a little darker and longer, tied into a messy bun at the crown of his head. And his eyes…they were storm grey where Rhett’s were a bright, leafy green.
“This is Silas,” Beau offered. “The second oldest…though he acts like he’s about a hundred years older than any of us.”
Silas didn’t offer a hand; just nodded once.
“You must be Willow,” he said, crossing his arms.
There was no meanness in it, but it still set me on edge. Because it wasn’t kind either, just…detached. Like maybe he wasn’t quite here. Silas fixed his gaze on me before giving a meaningful look to Rhett. Something flickered behind his eyes—something wounded.
“So how’s the renovation going at the church?” Rhett asked, like he was eager to establish a subject that wasn’t me.
Silas shrugged. “Eh…same old. Termites did a real number on the place.”
“The church?” I asked, glancing toward the steeple. “You’re fixing it up?”
“I live there, actually,” Silas said. “Ever since theRemnant Fellowship moved out, I’ve been takin’ up residence in the parsonage.”
“And it’s spooky,” Delilah said, wiggling her fingers, but her grin was fond, not mocking. “Even more haunted than the Ward house.”
“Hey…the Ward house isn’t so bad,” I smiled. “At least the ghosts there are friendly.”
Delilah snorted into her tea, eyes gleaming with interest now. “Friendly? That’s one word for it. What kind of friendly? You seen anything?”
I hesitated. “Well…I mean, not seen, exactly. But—sometimes I feel like I’m not alone. And last night…these roses were blooming in the window, and they hadn’t even been close to that point the night before.”
Delilah set her glass down, leaning in like I’d just handed her the best kind of secret. “That house always had a mind of its own. When I lived there? Little things would happen all the time. Fresh flowers showing up where I hadn’t left any…my bedroom curtains tied back in the mornings, like the house wanted me to look out.”
She shot Whit a smirk. “Pretty sure the house was just using me to tell on Whit when he would go out and smoke stolen cigarettes at night.”
Whit groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Dee, you were such a fuckin’ narc.”
“You were a delinquent,” she teased. “And the house clearly had its own opinion about it.”
Rhett’s soft laugh rumbled beside me. He didn’t look surprised at all.
Delilah shook her head fondly. “You hang onto those roses, Willow. That house doesn’t do anything by accident.”
“Anyway,” Beau cut in, giving Silas a nudge like he was trying to break the spell of our conversation, “we were gonna go check out the bake sale. You comin’?”
Silas hesitated, like he wasn’t sure the answer should be yes. He opened his mouth like he might say something to Rhett…but then gave a noncommittal grunt and stepped back.
“And the rest of you?” Beau asked.
Delilah slid her hand through Whit’s arm, casual as anything, like it was just habit. “Let’s leave the lovebirds to it,” she said, winking at me. “I need Whit to sweet-talk the ladies at the bakery into giving me free stuff.”
“Stop whorin’ me out,” Whit chuckled, but his ears went a little pink as he let her steer him toward the long tables where Honeybell Bakery had set out an entire spread of desserts.
I watched them go, warmth curling in my chest at the sight of this family…a family that already seemed ready to claim me.
