Page 62 of Lone Wolf in Lights
“Betty!” Willow exclaimed, laughter spilling out around the table. “From what you’ve said of him, I’m surprised he’d do such a thing.”
“Only when it came to protecting his family, dear. That man loved us fiercely,” Betty said, her tone turning tender. “And never raised a hand otherwise. Or his voice for that matter.”
Willow watched the love wash across Betty’s face. “You must miss him so much,” she said.
“I do miss him, dearly,” Belly replied. “But I also feel very lucky that I was loved by someone so intently that they’d break another man’s nose for not treating me right.”
“That’s very sweet, Betty,” Willow said softly, her heart feeling lighter.
“Oh, yes, our love story was very sweet,” Betty replied, reaching across the table to give Willow’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Just remember, my dear, that some men, they deserve a good knock to the teeth to teach them a lesson they need to learn.”
“Don’t I know that,” Willow agreed.
Betty held Willow’s stare in that knowing way she always did. “You deserve a love story like I had with Henry,” Betty said, drawing Willow’s gaze again. “One that fills you up and leaves lasting wonderful memories.”
Willow remembered a time where she dreamed of a love like Betty and Henry had. One that included marriage, kids and a happy life like her parents shared. Niko stole that from her. But staring at Betty and her wisdom, she began to realize that Niko was still winning because she wasn’t allowing love to grow where it should.
And there was someone she could have that kind of magical love with...
“Dear Lord, I am terrible at this,” Charly said, holding up a card adorned with a clumsy, endearing attempt at a reindeer. “I think I should stick to serving drinks rather than crafting.”
“It’s perfect,” Willow said.
Charly stared at her dead serious. “No one will buy this, Willow.”
Aubrey called from behind the bar, “One person will.”
Charly spun in her seat, glancing over her shoulder. “Yeah, who?”
“Jaxon, because he loves you.” Aubrey grinned.
Laughter rippled through the bar, and around the table, and the sound of laughter once again filling the bar brought warmth to Willow, erasing the remaining chill that Buck had caused.
At precisely ten o’clock in the morning, Eli spotted Betty standing next to a snow-covered wrought iron bench outside the coffee shop. He slowed his truck and pulled over next to her, and was out a moment later, joining her on the sidewalk.
“Morning, Eli,” she greeted him with a smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes.
“Betty,” he nodded, pushing open the door for her. He noticed the subtle determination etched in her movements as she got into his truck. “Where are we off too?” he asked.
“To the old church, across town.” Her voice was firm, leaving little room for discussion.
“Sure thing,” Eli replied, still not quite sure why he was even there before joining her in the truck. He’d have expected Betty to ask Willow to take her. They often did things like this together but hadn’t been because of the upcoming Christmas market.
The drive was silent, filled only with the hum of the engine and the quiet country music coming through his speakers, only making him more curious. As he neared the corner of the road, the old church emerged, standing tall and majestic against the clear blue sky. Its stone walls bore the marks of time, but the stained glass windows were stunningly flawless.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Betty’s voice broke the silence.
“Gorgeous,” Eli agreed, pulling into the gravel lot beside the church.
He killed the engine, as Betty said, “Let’s head inside.”
Eli glanced sideways at her. “You need help going in there?”
“Gosh, these old bones ain’t what they used to be,” she declared.
Eli lifted his eyebrows at her. “Betty, you don’t have a fragile bone in your body.” He knew better than to buy into her charade; Betty was sprightlier than most women half her age.
“Ah, but I do love the gallantry,” she quipped.
