The dress, newly pinned up and marked for Heidi’s desired alterations, hung in the back room. Harper couldn’t bring herself to touch it yet. The thought of shears slicing through the lace...it was almost physically painful. She’d talked Heidi down to knee length, which was something. Heidi had always liked being different—the girl with short hair when everyone else wore theirs long, a tattoo on her calf she liked to show off in summer, and very likely the reason she insisted upon a short dress for the wedding.
Couldn’t Heidi, just once, blend in? Even if only for Chris!
A navy blue SUV rumbled to a stop outside. Harper paused and looked closer. Gabe got out, but he wasn’t in uniform this time. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a gray T-shirt that tugged around his well-muscled biceps. Obviously, the police force kept him in shape, and she had to admit that Gabe had matured into a good-looking guy. A little less ruggedness would go a long way in making this more comfortable for her.
Harper met him at the door so she could unlock the deadbolt.
“Hi,” Gabe said as she opened the door. She stepped back and he came inside.
“What happened to the uniform?” she asked.
“I’m supposed to blend in.”
He didn’t really succeed. Gabe was tall, muscled, and even in plainclothes, he looked like a brick wall. And maybe she liked that. If those thieves were going to return, she’d rather have Gabe as their distraction. Maybe they’d think twice and just move on.
Harper felt a tug on her hand and she glanced down to see Zoey looking up at Gabe, wide-eyed. Harper glanced between them, noting the similarities in their faces—the chin, the slate gray eyes... Did Gabe see it?
“This is Zoey,” Harper said.
“Hi, Zoey.” Gabe gave her a nod. “I’m Officer Banks.”
That was formal, but what did Harper really expect? As far as he knew, this was his ex’s daughter. Not his business.
“I drew a picture,” Zoey said. She lifted it up for Gabe to see, and he took it from her fingers, regarded it for a moment.
“Very nice.” He handed it back.
“It’s for you,” Zoey said.
“Oh—” Gabe’s expression softened and he took the picture back. It wasn’t much more than a few scribbles. She was only four, after all. But he folded the paper in quarters and then tucked it into his back pocket. He cleared his throat. “Thank you, Zoey. I appreciate that.”
Zoey seemed to like that, because she danced back to the counter to draw another one. Gabe would likely leave this shop with a whole ream of paper filled with Zoey’s artwork, and right now he didn’t even know how precious that was.
“You aren’t used to kids, are you?” Harper asked as she leaned the broom into a corner.
“Not really,” Gabe admitted. “But I am used to dealing with criminals and general run-of-the-mill bad guys, which you’ll probably find more useful right about now.”
Harper smiled ruefully.
“But you seem to have risen to the challenge,” Gabe said.
“She was my goddaughter,” Harper replied. “I’ve been in her life since birth.”
“Seems like you’ve got it under control,” he said with a nod. “So how’ve you been...otherwise, I mean?”
“I’m good.” She glanced around. “I manage the store now. Dad had a hard time stepping down. This place was his heart and soul, you know? Anyway, he had a small stroke and that meant he had to slow down and recover.”
“And you have your chance to run the place.”
“Yeah. I’ve been waiting for this.”
Gabe strolled across the store, his gaze moving over the window, the racks of dresses... He reached out, looking like he might finger the fabric of a gown, but instead he pushed it back and knocked on the wall behind.
“What are you looking for?” she asked.
“Don’t know. Just looking.” He shot her a wry smile. “So your dad’s doing okay, though?”
“Yes, he’s almost completely recovered, and he’s settling into retirement with Mom. My sister’s getting married.”
“Yeah?” His gaze moved up to the ceiling, scanning from one side to the other. “Who’d she land?”
“Chris Holmes, of the Holmes Homes legacy.”
“Ah—so she’s marrying money.”
“She’s marrying a very decent man.” Harper corrected him. “You’ll probably see him around.”
“Hmm.” His gaze came back to Harper’s face and he raised his eyebrows. “So...you still dislike me as much as you used to?”
“That’s—” She felt the heat hit her face. “That was a long time ago, Gabe. I just thought that Andrea was expecting too much from you.”
“So it was never personal,” he said with an arched eyebrow. “Is that what you’re saying?”
She sighed. “Maybe it was personal. If someone’s against your relationship, it’s hard not to be, right? So I’ll take responsibility for that. I thought you would use my friend, and I didn’t hide my opinion.”
“I didn’t use her.”
“But you weren’t good for her.”
“Yeah, well, we might agree there,” he said with a shrug. He turned away from her again and started scanning the store’s floorboards. He was being thorough if nothing else. She couldn’t help but follow his gaze, wondering what he was expecting to find.
“How does it feel to be home for a little while?” she asked after a few beats of silence.
“Awful.”
She started to laugh, thinking he was joking, then she sobered. “What? Oh, you must mean with your grandmother’s passing—”
Gabe walked away again, heading toward the counter. He peered into the back room, his head swiveling around to get a good look. When he remerged, his expression was different...gentler.
“Now that she’s gone, I guess there’s no harm in telling the truth,” Gabe said. He turned his arm over and tapped a scar. “That was from her.”
“What?” Harper looked closer—it was long and pale. He’d been cut deeply.
“She came at me when I’d been caught with a cigarette. I fell into some rocks.”
Harper’s mind reeled. “Wait... Came at you?”
“She wasn’t the woman everyone thought she was,” he said bitterly. “And I was a constant disappointment.”
“Gabe, I had no idea...” Harper ran a hand over her brow. “Did you tell anyone?”
“Nope.” Gabe shrugged. “We all have baggage. Mine is a little harder to set down, I guess.”
“So being back here in Comfort Creek...it’s not ideal,” she clarified.
“You could say that.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.” He shot her a small smile. “It’s just life.”
It wouldn’t be Zoey’s life; that was for sure. Zoey would be loved and supported. She’d be appreciated, and when she was disciplined, it would be with gentle