Page 25 of Lavender Lake
“You really want me to answer that?” Bowman asked.
I sighed. “Let’s go before we’re hounded by someone?—”
“Salem!”
The dimpling woman with wrinkles at the corners of her eyes popped out of General Merc before I could make a run for it.
I slapped a smile on my face. “Hi, Lucy.”
“Oh,thisis Lucy,” Bowman remarked softly as the woman approached us.
“Gosh, your hair is shiny,” Lucy said as she stroked a long red strand of my hair. “What are you doing to it?”
“Hair mask.”
“Huh.”
Lucy embraced me for a moment, and then pulled back to stare me directly in the eyes. “If you needanything, you let me know. We’re here for you, Salem. Whatever we can do to help. Your grandmother won’t ask. But don’t let that stop you.”
My heart melted in my chest. For all the annoyances of a small town and everyone knowing your business, sometimes it was nice not having to explain the intimate details of your family idiosyncrasies.
Lucy’s hands dropped from my shoulders and her attention turned to Bowman. She raised her brows. “You Salem’s beau?”
I nearly choked on my own tongue, but Bowman smiled and held out his hand to her. “I’m Declan Brewer’s best friend. Please, call me Bowman.”
“Oh.” Lucy beamed and clasped his hand. “I’m a fan of Declan. Welcome to Huckleberry Hill, Bowman.”
“Thank you,” Bowman said.
Lucy looked at me. “Remember what I said, honey. About asking for help.”
“I’ll remember,” I promised. “So, I met Jane . . .”
“Jane,” Lucy repeated.
“My father’s girlfriend,” I supplied.
Lucy looked at her wrist, which was currently devoid of a watch. “See ya later, honey, I gotta go.”
“Go where?” I pressed.
“I have inventory to order.” She shot Bowman a smile. “Take care.”
She whirled and hustled back toward the store.
I looked at Bowman who clearly was about to say something.
“Don’t,” I commanded. “Don’t say anything.”
“I’m not saying a word.” He started to laugh as we walked to the truck. “You’re like the town’s modern-day outlaw. You’re a gunslinger with a temper, aren’t ya?”
I groaned. “Bowman, stop.”
That only made him laugh harder. “If I walk around, will I see your picture on signs in the windows? Is there a reward for turning you in?”
“You’re rotten.”
“And you’re infamous.” He shook his head, and then winked at me. “I have a thing for the wicked.”
