towns . “Just to give me a hand with some things.”
“Oh, he’s a sweet boy but...but I wonder, sometimes.”
Nervousness prickled down her back, raising goose bumps on her skin. “About?”
“You’re a sweet girl.” Her neighbor patted her forearm. “I worry about you here, all on your own. Just...be careful with that one.”
What the hell?
Before Addie could respond, Lori’s gaze trailed to her hand hanging loosely at her side. Addie followed her stare and realized her fingers were covered in the herb concoction that she’d been using on Erik.
“Potting,” she said swiftly. “Just out on the porch, potting some cuttings.”
“You should do that more in spring,” Lori said.
“I ran a little behind this year. Thanks for checking in, Lori.” Addie twisted the doorknob at her back. “It’s appreciated.”
“Well, it’s what your grandmother would’ve wanted. Such a kind lady.”
Addie kept up the smile even as it threatened to falter. “I know she was.”
“A shame what happened. But you’re a good girl, Adelaide—she’d be proud of you.”
“Thanks again. Have a good day.” She slipped inside swiftly, locking the door behind her.
Lori only remained on the porch for a moment before turning and heading down the driveway; Addie watched from the window by the door, easing out a breath the farther Lori got.
She appreciated that her neighbors cared but she’d had more people in her driveway in the past twenty-four hours than the past week.
With a sigh, Addie turned back to the living room. Erik hadn’t left the spot on the floor between the couch and the fireplace, though he’d moved into a crouch. His head was tipped down, dark hair falling over his wary eyes.
For a moment, the tiger in him seemed to shimmer in the air—she could almost see it.
Addie held her breath.
Erik relaxed, shoulders falling. He let out a heavy sigh and eased back to sit.
“Just my neighbor,” Addie said, and she had to wonder precisely how much he heard. Did animal senses extend that far, picking up on Lori’s talk about Robbie and her grandmother?
“I shouldn’t stay here.” He looked down, hiding his face from her.
“Someone’s after you,” she said as she started swiftly across the floor. The hardwood creaked beneath her steps, punctuating the silence.
Erik started to rise in response, got about halfway, and then thumped onto the floor again with a groan.
Addie rushed, dropped to her knees, and sighed. “You’re not going far so you might as well just tell me. Am I in danger of something with you here?”
He seemed to debate this, leaning forward and moving his arm so she could patch up his side again as she lifted the gauze. “I think you’re safe,” he said softly at last.
His words made her heart speed oddly. He sounded...sad. And a warm pain bloomed in her chest, a sudden ache she didn’t quite understand.
Addie brushed it off and finished taping gauze to his side, then brushed her hands off.
“Who was your grandmother?” he asked.
She paused, took a deep breath, and avoided his eyes. So he could hear well. And it was an odd question. “Just...an old woman. This was her house before she died—everyone knew her around here.”
“A family recipe.”
He stared at the mortar, which she swiftly snatched up along with the first aid supplies.
She might have decided her grandmother wasn’t crazy but she still wasn’t eager to talk about it.
“I’ll make some lunch,” she said as she quickly rose. She was out of the living room and into the kitchen before he could respond.
Sunlight streamed through the large kitchen windows along the back of the house, giving the room a warm yellow glow. For a moment she paused at the counter beside the sink and stared out the backyard beyond the porch.
If she closed her eyes, she swore she’d hear Granmama’s voice. The cluck of her tongue in a teasing chide, mumbling as she touched the saint medal at her throat. Her long weathered
“Oh, he’s a sweet boy but...but I wonder, sometimes.”
Nervousness prickled down her back, raising goose bumps on her skin. “About?”
“You’re a sweet girl.” Her neighbor patted her forearm. “I worry about you here, all on your own. Just...be careful with that one.”
What the hell?
Before Addie could respond, Lori’s gaze trailed to her hand hanging loosely at her side. Addie followed her stare and realized her fingers were covered in the herb concoction that she’d been using on Erik.
“Potting,” she said swiftly. “Just out on the porch, potting some cuttings.”
“You should do that more in spring,” Lori said.
“I ran a little behind this year. Thanks for checking in, Lori.” Addie twisted the doorknob at her back. “It’s appreciated.”
“Well, it’s what your grandmother would’ve wanted. Such a kind lady.”
Addie kept up the smile even as it threatened to falter. “I know she was.”
“A shame what happened. But you’re a good girl, Adelaide—she’d be proud of you.”
“Thanks again. Have a good day.” She slipped inside swiftly, locking the door behind her.
Lori only remained on the porch for a moment before turning and heading down the driveway; Addie watched from the window by the door, easing out a breath the farther Lori got.
She appreciated that her neighbors cared but she’d had more people in her driveway in the past twenty-four hours than the past week.
With a sigh, Addie turned back to the living room. Erik hadn’t left the spot on the floor between the couch and the fireplace, though he’d moved into a crouch. His head was tipped down, dark hair falling over his wary eyes.
For a moment, the tiger in him seemed to shimmer in the air—she could almost see it.
Addie held her breath.
Erik relaxed, shoulders falling. He let out a heavy sigh and eased back to sit.
“Just my neighbor,” Addie said, and she had to wonder precisely how much he heard. Did animal senses extend that far, picking up on Lori’s talk about Robbie and her grandmother?
“I shouldn’t stay here.” He looked down, hiding his face from her.
“Someone’s after you,” she said as she started swiftly across the floor. The hardwood creaked beneath her steps, punctuating the silence.
Erik started to rise in response, got about halfway, and then thumped onto the floor again with a groan.
Addie rushed, dropped to her knees, and sighed. “You’re not going far so you might as well just tell me. Am I in danger of something with you here?”
He seemed to debate this, leaning forward and moving his arm so she could patch up his side again as she lifted the gauze. “I think you’re safe,” he said softly at last.
His words made her heart speed oddly. He sounded...sad. And a warm pain bloomed in her chest, a sudden ache she didn’t quite understand.
Addie brushed it off and finished taping gauze to his side, then brushed her hands off.
“Who was your grandmother?” he asked.
She paused, took a deep breath, and avoided his eyes. So he could hear well. And it was an odd question. “Just...an old woman. This was her house before she died—everyone knew her around here.”
“A family recipe.”
He stared at the mortar, which she swiftly snatched up along with the first aid supplies.
She might have decided her grandmother wasn’t crazy but she still wasn’t eager to talk about it.
“I’ll make some lunch,” she said as she quickly rose. She was out of the living room and into the kitchen before he could respond.
Sunlight streamed through the large kitchen windows along the back of the house, giving the room a warm yellow glow. For a moment she paused at the counter beside the sink and stared out the backyard beyond the porch.
If she closed her eyes, she swore she’d hear Granmama’s voice. The cluck of her tongue in a teasing chide, mumbling as she touched the saint medal at her throat. Her long weathered
Similar Books
