“We’re not, though. You understand that, right? That this is just temporary?”
Rhanna wilted a little, then narrowed her eyes on Lizzy. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
“I had a call from my Realtor.”
“And?”
“He’s not my Realtor anymore.”
“Why?”
“There was another article about the fire in this morning’s paper and it’s apparently left Mr. Bundy squeamish. Radioactive was the term he used. He says if I list now, it’ll just sit and lose value. He says I should wait.”
“How long?”
“Six months to a year is what he said.”
“A year?” Hope flickered in Rhanna’s eyes. “What are you going to do?”
Lizzy lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Get a second opinion, I guess. And hope the bank will give me enough money to tide me over.”
Rhanna startled Lizzy by briefly laying a hand on her shoulder, the first time she’d initiated any kind of contact in years. “I’m sorry you’ve had to carry the whole load around here, but I want to start helping. There’s a guy I used to see back in the day—Billy Church. His family has this big real estate office in Somersworth, and he owes me a favor. Or maybe I owe him. I’m kind of fuzzy on the details. But I bet I can track him down. As for money, Evvie and I have been talking, and I think we’ve found a way to help out.”
Lizzy eyed her warily. “Should I be worried?”
Rhanna feigned a pout. “I’m going to ignore that. There’s a New Age festival coming up in New Bay, Connecticut. I called last week, and they had a few tables left. We thought we’d take some of Evvie’s honey and some of this stuff, and make some quick cash.”
Lizzy peered over Rhanna’s shoulder, scanning the neatly labeled containers on the shelf. Gardener’s salve made with dandelion flowers, lemon-mint salt scrub, almond-coconut body butter. There were even tiny pots of honey-vanilla lip balm. Not bad, considering the limited materials she’d had to work with.
“That’s what you’ve been doing out here? Making stuff for a festival?”
Rhanna beamed. “We didn’t want to say anything until we knew we’d have enough inventory, and we will by the time the festival rolls around. Evvie has her bracelets and her honey. I’ll be doing readings too. It won’t pay the property taxes, but it’ll keep the lights on, and I did promise I’d earn my keep. I know it’s not really your thing, but you don’t need to go. Evvie and I can handle it while you do what you need to do here.”
Lizzy shook her head, smiling. “Althea always said you had Roma blood in your veins. When is this festival?”
“This weekend. Ben from the hardware store is lending us a big umbrella and some stuff to hang up signs.”
Lizzy’s brows lifted at the mention of Ben’s name. “How did he get involved?”
“I’m not sure. Apparently, Evvie mentioned the fair and he jumped at the chance to help. Sounds like maybe he’s crushing on our Evvie.”
“I think that street runs both ways,” Lizzy said, grinning. “A couple weeks back, she was loading a box of honey to take to the hardware store, and she was wearing lipstick.”
“Lipstick? Evvie?”
“Earrings too.”
“Peter, Paul, and Mary,” Rhanna breathed, a slow grin lifting the corners of her mouth. “A romance right here on Moon Girl Farm. I’m definitely going to have fun with this.”
“Yeah, well, she buttoned up tighter than a deacon’s wife when I brought it up, so don’t expect her to admit it.”
Rhanna tapped her lower lip thoughtfully. “On second thought, maybe I should leave it alone. I’ve just gotten in her good graces, and I’d like to stay there.” A bead of perspiration trickled from her temple. She blotted it on the sleeve of her T-shirt. “Good grief, it’s hot. Want to break for some ice cream?”
“Can’t. I’m headed to the bank to pick up some paperwork and make an appointment with a loan officer.”
Rhanna nodded grimly. “Right. Maybe later. We could go to the Dairy Bar and share a banana split. It’s still there, right?”
“Yup. Still there. I was surprised how little downtown had changed, though we actually have a vape shop now, and a tattoo parlor.”
“Wow. In a town like Salem Creek, that’s progress. As I recall, there was never much of anything to do in this town. Unless you knew the right people.”
“The right people?”
“Ahem . . .” Rhanna cocked a brow. “The Hanley boys?”
Lizzy frowned, bewildered. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about the Hanley farm—the one right behind ours, with all the bright yellow NO TRESPASSING signs posted all over the place. The old man liked to pretend no one knew what he was growing back there, but we all did. It was the worst kept secret in Salem Creek.”
“What he was . . .” Lizzy’s mouth dropped open. “You mean pot?”
Rhanna rolled her eyes. “Yes, honey. I mean pot.”
“I thought they grew corn.”
“Oh, they did. It’s just not all they grew. Good thing too, or those boys wouldn’t have had any friends. They were such an odd pair. Whatever happened to them anyway?”
“Hollis died in a car crash not long after he got back from Afghanistan. Dennis works part-time for Andrew, and helps take care of Hollis’s daughter. I wouldn’t have thought him the family-man type, but I guess we don’t always know what someone’s going through. Maybe it changed him.”
Rhanna nodded, her eyes suddenly shiny. “Time has a way of doing that,” she said softly. “And if you’re really lucky, it gives you a second chance.”
THIRTY-TWO
Lizzy was in and out of the bank in under an hour, leaving her plenty of time to run her final errand. Evvie had asked her to drop off another dozen jars of honey at the hardware store while out, and pick up a trellis for the honeysuckle vine she was planning to train for her bees. Lizzy hadn’t been able to resist teasing her, expressing surprise that Evvie would pass up a chance to see Ben again. Evvie’s response had been a grunt and a less than convincing scowl.
The hardware store parking lot was nearly empty when Lizzy pulled in. She chose a spot near the door and grabbed the carton of honey. A string of brass bells jangled as she pushed inside. She headed for the sales counter at the back of the store, where she was greeted by a stocky man with skin like leather and hair the color of freshly fallen snow.
“Afternoon.”
“Are you Ben?”
“Guilty as charged. How can I help?”
Lizzy took a quick inventory as she slid the carton onto the counter. He was handsome in a gnarled, outdoorsy way, like weathered oak—deeply grained and worn smooth by time. “Evvie sent me.”
“Oh.” Ben blinked at the carton of jars, then back at Lizzy. He managed a smile but his disappointment was plain. “She usually comes herself.”
“I know, but she’s busy getting ready for the fair. Thank you, by the way. I heard you’re helping her out with some signage. It was kind of you to offer.”
Lizzy wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Ben actually blushed. “She’s a good woman, that Evvie. Wise and kind, and so funny. She’s really something.”
Funny?
It was official. Ben the hardware man had it bad for Evangeline Broussard. “Evvie tells me you sell quite a lot of her honey,” she said, hoping to draw him out further.
Ben nodded, grinning like a teen. “That I do. Folks swear by the stuff. Claim it cures everything from psoriasis to the common cold.” Ben held up a knobby finger. “Reminds me. I’ve got an envelope for her in back. And a trellis she asked me to set aside for her. Just give me a sec.”
Lizzy watched him disappear through a set of swinging doors, then wandered toward a rack of seed packets. She was reaching for a packet of sweet william seeds when she saw Fred Gilman walking toward her with a spool of rope and a long-handled ax. Her throat seized as she watched him come toward her, the ax swinging like a pendulum at his side. Finally, he came to an abrupt halt, his eyes heavy lidded and unblinking as they locked with hers.
It was Lizzy who looked away first, relieved to see Ben pushing back through the swinging doors with a fan-shaped trellis in his arms. He threw an oblivious nod to Fred as he handed her the trellis, then fished an envelope from his back pocket. “There’s her cash for the last batch of honey, and the trellis she wanted. Be sure to tell her I said hello, and that I’ll be by with the umbrella tomorrow.”
“Thanks. I will.”
Lizzy stuffed the envelope into her purse, then headed back down the aisle to the door. Her hands were shaking as she fumbled with the key fob to open the trunk. It wasn’t that she’d expected Fred Gilman to lop off her head right there in the hardware store, but there’d been no missing the icy fury he had leveled in her direction.