Page 9 of Where the Roses Bloom
“Delilah,” Rhett said with a long-suffering sigh.
“Rhett,” she replied, sing-song, then turned her gaze fully on me. “You must be Willow.”
“How…?” I started. I’d been here for a matter of minutes…no one should even know I was in town, let alone my name.
But Delilah ignored me.
“Welcome to Willow Grove,” Delilah said. “Sorry the road pulled you off-course. It does that sometimes. Usually when something—or someone—is supposed to find you.”
My skin prickled.
“That supposed to be charming or terrifying?”
“Both.” She grinned and dropped her book on the counter. “Don’t worry. I only read palms on Tuesdays.”
Rhett shook his head and leaned back in the booth like he’d seen this all before. Delilah winked at him, then gave me one last once-over before sauntering to the counter and stealing a piece of bacon off overall guy’s plate without asking. He didn’t utter a word of complaint.
“She runs the library,” Rhett said. “Not technically a Ward, but she might as well be.”
“Yeah…that checks out,” I murmured.
Mabel returned with two plates piled high with biscuits, eggs, and bacon. She also carried a little silver tray with a ceramic creamer, a sugar bowl, and a tiny jar of honey with a wooden dipper.
“Eat,” she said, setting everything down like she was laying the groundwork for a miracle. “You both look like you’ve been through hell, but you’ve got good faces. Especially yours, honey.” She nodded at me. “You stayin’?”
I froze with my fork in my hand…suddenly wondering if this was a Persephone and the pomegranate situation.
If I ate these eggs, would I be stuck here?
Would that be the worst outcome?
“Just…passing through,” I said.
“Uh-huh.” She didn’t believe me for a second.
Rhett didn’t say anything. Just buttered a biscuit and handed it to me without looking up. His fingers brushed mine when I took it, calloused and warm and sending a shock up my arm.
I wasn’t sure what was happening here. I didn’t understand how this place—this man—had started to feel like a soft place to land when I was supposed to be broken and drifting and done.
But I took the biscuit.
You don’t just…nottake a biscuit from a handsome man.
Rhett cleared his throat like he was about to speak, then took a sip of coffee instead. His gaze lingered out the window for a second too long, fixed on the sidewalk. Two men were walking by with their child, the kid cackling and swinging between them.
Then he asked, casual as could be: “You think you’ll keep driving?”
I peered at him over my coffee.
“I don’t know,” I said slowly. “That was the plan. Just…keep going.”
“But now?”
I didn’t answer.
Because the truth was, I didn’t know what I wanted. Not really. But I knew what it felt like to be seen for the first time in what felt like years. And right now, I was sitting in a booth with someone who made me feel more human than I had in a long time.
“There’s a motel just off the square,” he said, voice betraying absolutely nothing. “Willow Grove Motor Inn. Nothing fancy, but clean. You could stay awhile. Rest.”
