Silver River Secrets. Linda Hope Lee
courtyard. Instead of joining the party, Lacey went toward the stairway. Despite Sophie’s encouragement, she’d decided to skip the party. She wouldn’t be here to celebrate Silver River Days, anyway. If not for her grandmother, she wouldn’t come to town at all. Ever.
“Lacey?”
Uh-oh, caught.
She turned to see Kristal Wilson enter the front door. Lacey warmed at the sight of her old high school friend, one of the few who stood by her after the tragedy.
“I heard you were staying here,” Kris said as they exchanged a hug.
Lacey shook her head. “The grapevine in this town never ceases to amaze me. I just arrived this afternoon. I planned to give you a call.”
Kris tucked a lock of silver-blond hair behind her ear, revealing a dangling silver heart earring. “I know, but here we are, and we can go to the party together.” She gestured toward the door to the courtyard.
Lacey shook her head. “Uh-uh. I decided to skip it. It’s been a long day, and besides, I’m not dressed for it.” She pointed to her sleeveless blue tunic top and black tights.
“Who dresses up in Silver River?”
“You do. You always look like a million.”
Kris grinned as she smoothed the collar of her bright yellow blouse, which she wore with a brown pencil skirt and high-heeled shoes. “That’s because I’m a walking advertisement for the shop.”
“No, you love clothes. You always have.”
Kris waved dismissively. “Okay, okay. But, Lacey, come to the party, just for a little while, so we can catch up. Otherwise, we’ll have to wait till we go to lunch, and who knows when that will be?”
“Well...okay, for a little while.”
Still, Lacey felt her muscles tense as she stepped into the crowded courtyard. There were so many people. Had the whole town come out? On the way to the bar, she nodded and smiled at familiar faces. Then, glasses of Chardonnay in hand, she and Kris strolled the walkway circling the burbling fountain. Music from the four-piece combo filled the air, and balloons and streamers added a festive touch. They chatted about Remy’s move and Kris’s job at her aunt’s clothing store and the problems of being a single parent to eight-year-old Lucas.
“Thank goodness for day camp,” Kris said. “It’s been a lifesaver this summer.”
At the buffet table, they sampled the appetizers.
“Has anything changed between you and Sam?” Lacey asked, plucking a potato chip from a napkin-lined basket.
Kris munched a cracker topped with cream cheese. “Not really. He’ll never forgive me for breaking up with him and marrying Nolan.”
They chatted for a while longer, and then Lacey said, “I really should go. But we’ll get together for lunch soon.”
“I look forward to that... Oh, oh...” Kristal placed her fingers to her lips.
“What?”
“If you leave now, you’ll run smack into him.”
“Him, who?”
“Rory. He and Sam just arrived.”
* * *
RORY DRAGGED HIS steps as he followed Sam into the courtyard at Sophie’s B and B. He wasn’t really in a party mood. After a busy day at the shop, all he wanted was to go home, snap open a beer, kick back and relax. But he’d told Sophie and Hugh he would come and help celebrate the upcoming festival. On the way in, he’d met Sam, and so here they were. He wouldn’t stay long, just say a few “hellos,” and then leave.
Sam pulled two bottles of beer from an ice-filled tub. “Here you go.” He handed one to Rory.
“Thanks.” Rory opened the beer and took a sip. The cold liquid made his taste buds tingle.
“Hits the spot, doesn’t it?” Sam held up his bottle.
“Yeah, but I could drink beer at home.”
“Not with all the food you’ll find here.” Sam gazed around. “Let’s head over to the buffet table... Uh-oh.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Kristal’s here.”
“That’s okay, isn’t it? You two are on speaking terms.”
“Yeah, but are you and Lacey? ’Cause she’s here, too.”
Rory followed the direction of Sam’s nod, and sure enough, Kristal and Lacey stood at the buffet table. Feeling his chest tighten, he took a deep breath. “I never expected Lacey to be here. She keeps to herself when she comes to town.”
“Not this time. But Kris spotted us, so we might as well say hello.”
Rory frowned. “But I...”
“What? You two do speak to each other, don’t you?”
“When we have to.” He took another sip of beer while he debated. Finally, he said, “Okay, let’s get it over with.”
Still, as he and Sam approached the two women, who were now turned to face them, he found breathing difficult.
“Hello, Kris, Lacey,” Sam said. “Saw you this afternoon coming into town, Lacey. Nice set of wheels.”
“Thanks, Sam.” Lacey’s gaze shifted to Rory. “Hello, Rory.”
“Lacey.” Rory nodded without smiling.
Lacey’s long brown hair curled about her heart-shaped face, and her eyes were as big and brown as he remembered. His chest tightened even more.
“Good crowd,” Sam said, looking around.
“It is.” Kris nodded.
An awkward silence fell. Then, just as Rory was about to say, “Nice seeing you,” or some other phrase to signal his exit, Sam said, “Kris, you need a refill.”
Kris looked at her half-full glass of wine and then at Sam. “I do?”
Sam tilted his head.
“Oh, I guess I do,” Kris said.
Sam lifted the glass from Kris’s hand. “You two excuse us?”
Before either Rory or Lacey had time to respond, Sam steered Kristal toward the bar.
Rory stared after them. Thanks a lot, Sam. He turned back to Lacey, intending to say, “See you around,” but what came out was, “Sorry to hear about your grandmother’s accident. Being laid up must be tough on her.”
“It is, but she’s recovering.” Lacey shifted her feet and looked toward the door.
Okay, she’s as anxious to get away as you are. Let her go.
“She’s at Riverview now, right?” he said.
“Yes. That’s why I’m here again, helping her to move.”
“I figured that.”
Why else would she be in Silver River? Certainly not to see him. And why were they standing here making conversation, anyway?
“Your business doing well?” she asked.
“If you mean the shop, yeah, business is great.”
“Still working for your grandfather, too?”
He nodded. “Part-time.” Working for his grandfather’s real estate investment business was more an obligation—and a necessity—than a pleasure. “What about you? Still with, what? Some historical society, right?”
A smile lit up her face, the first he’d seen all evening. “Yes. The Boise Historical Society. I’m doing what I love—writing about history.”