news travels fast,” she said and passed over a twenty dollar note.
Linda took the money and cranked the register. “In this place news is news. I only heard because my daughter volunteers as a guard at the surf beach.”
Callie took the bait and her change. “The surf beach?”
“Well, Cameron was there. He told her all about it.”
He did? “Who’s Cameron?”
Linda tutted as though Callie should know exactly who he was. “Cameron Jakowski. He and Noah are best friends.”
Callie couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to be friends with Noah Preston.
“Cameron volunteers there, too,” she said, and Callie listened, trying to not lose track of the conversation. “Noah used to, but he’s too busy with all his kids now.”
“So this Cameron told your daughter what happened?”
“Yep. He said you and Noah had an all-out brawl. Something to do with that eldest terror of his.”
“It wasn’t exactly a brawl,” Callie explained. “More like a disagreement.”
“I heard he thinks you should be shut down,” Linda said odiously, her voice dropping an octave.
Callie’s spine stiffened. Not again. When she’d caught the Trent sisters smoking in the stables, Sonya Trent had threatened the same thing. “What?”
“Mmm,” Linda said. “And it only takes one thing to go wrong to ruin a business, believe me. One whiff of you being careless around the kids and you can kiss the place goodbye.”
Callie felt like throwing up. Her business meant everything to her. Her horses, her home. “I didn’t do anything,” she protested.
Linda made a sympathetic face. “Of course you didn’t, love. But I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you had because of that little hellion.” Linda sighed. “That girl’s been nothing but trouble since her—”
The conversation stopped abruptly when the bell pealed and a woman, dressed in a pair of jeans and a vivid orange gauze blouse, walked into the shop. Black hair curled wildly around her face and bright green eyes regarded Callie for a brief moment.
“Hello, Linda,” she said and grabbed a bottle of water from one of the fridges.
“Evie, good to see you. Are you selling at the trunk sale today?” Linda asked.
Her dancing green eyes grew wide. “For sure,” she said and paid her money. “My usual stuff. But if you hear of anyone wanting a big brass bed, let me know. I’m renovating one of the upstairs rooms and it needs to go. Catch you later.”
She hurried from the shop and Linda turned her attention back to Callie.
“That’s Evie Dunn,” Linda explained. “She runs a bed and breakfast along the waterfront. You can’t miss it. It’s the big A-frame place with the monstrous Norfolk pines out the front. She’s an artist and sells all kinds of crafting supplies, too. You should check it out.”
Callie grimaced and then smiled. “I’m not really into handicrafts.”
Linda’s silvery brows shot up. “Noah Preston is her brother.”
Of course. No wonder those green eyes had looked so familiar. Okay, maybe now she was a little interested. Callie grabbed her soda and left the shop. So, he wanted her shut down, did he?
She drove the truck in the car park and leashed Tessa. There were more than thirty cars and stalls set up, and the park was teeming with browsers and buyers. It took Callie about three minutes to find Evie Dunn. The pretty brunette had a small table laid out with craft wares and costume jewelry.
She wandered past once and then navigated around for another look.
“Are you interested in scrapbooking?” Evie Dunn asked on her third walk by.
Callie stalled and eased Tessa to heel. She took a step toward the table and shrugged. “Not particularly.”
Black brows rose sharply. “Are you interested in a big brass bed?”
Callie shook her head. “Ah, I don’t think so.”
Evie planted her hands on her hips. “Then I guess you must be interested in my brother?”
Callie almost hyperventilated. “What do you—”
“You’re Callie, right?” The other woman asked and thrust out her hand. “I saw the name of your riding school on the side of your truck. I’m Evie. Lily told me all about you. You made quite an impression on my niece, which is not an easy feat. From what she told me, I’m certain she still wants you as her riding instructor.”
There was no chance that was going to happen. “I don’t think it’s up to Lily.”
“Made you mad, did he?”
Callie took a step forward and shook her hand. “You could say that.”
Evie, whose face was an amazing mix of vivid color—green eyes and bright cherry lips—stared at her with a thoughtful expression that said she was being thoroughly summed up. “So, about the brass bed?” she asked and smiled. “Would you like to see it?”
Brass bed? Callie shook her head. Hadn’t she already said she wasn’t interested? “I don’t think—”
“You’ll love it,” Evie insisted. “I can take you to look at it now if you like. Help me pack up and we can get going.”
Callie began to protest and then stopped. She was pretty sure they weren’t really talking about a bed. This was Noah Preston’s sister. And because he had quickly become enemy number one, if she had a lick of sense she’d find out everything she could about him and use it to her advantage. If Noah thought she would simply sit back and allow him to ruin her reputation, he could certainly think again. Sandhills Farm was her life. If he wanted a war, she’d give him one.
Noah didn’t know how to reach out to his angry daughter. He hurt for her. A deep, soul-wrenching hurt that transcended right through to his bones. But what could he do? Her sullen, uncommunicative moods were impossible to read. She skulked around the house with her eyes to the floor, hiding behind her makeup, saying little, determined to disassociate herself from the family he tried so frantically to keep together.
And she pined for the mother who’d abandoned her without a backward glance.
She’d deny it, of course. But Noah knew. It had been more than four years ago. Four and a half long years and they all needed to move on.
Yeah, right … like I’ve moved on?
He liked to think so. Perhaps not the way
