Page 112 of Stockman's Sandstorm

‘I don’t have your number.’

‘Liar.’ Bree pinched Harper’s phone from the table and tapped away at the keys. ‘You could have just said that you’d cracked your phone in half like an FBI agent gone rogue. But Cowboy Craig knows my number, Lenny the chef knows our number, and it wouldn’t be too hard to search master brand makers and beautiful blacksmiths to find our number.’

‘I’m sorry, you’re right. The truth is I didn’t want to bother you.’

Bree plonked one hand on her hip with a don’t give me that crap look. ‘I’m well aware that you’re new to the world of friends, but in times like this you call a friend. See, it says so.’ Bree held up the phone that now had an entry that read: In case of emergencies call this friend.

‘Listen, blossom, I’m the kind of friend who’ll get drunk with you, help you clean up a murder scene, supply you with ice cream, or buy you every packet of shortbread off the supermarket shelf.’ Bree upended her shopping bag, allowing over a dozen red packets of shortbread to spill across the table. ‘See, the darkside does come with cookies.’

Harper wanted to cry at the kindness, and the feeling of guilt. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Oh, honey, stop saying sorry. I don’t even say sorry for being snappy when breaking in a new bra.’

‘Okay…’ She shrugged, trying so hard to not say sorry.

‘So, Mean Rene and Craig both said you’ve been fine, and that you went on a round the world beer fest?’ asked the redhead, whose mere presence commanded the room.

‘You know the world’s greatest barmaid?’

‘Blossom, how many brain cells did you fry yesterday?’ Bree held up her hands. ‘I’m not judging on the beer binge. Believe me, I get why we drink to blur life’s many nightmares—it’s why they invented gin. But you don’t look like rock bottom.’ She glanced over the wall charts. ‘When did you get your attention span back?’

‘Um, today. No, it started clearing when Ruby was bitten by the snake.’ Harper flicked at the paperwork.

‘I hope you’re proud of yourself for saving that dog. I know I was when I heard the story.’

‘So, how did you know I was here?’

‘Well, I was waiting for your homing pigeon to deliver a message, telling me what part of the galaxy you’d absconded to. But thankfully, this little honey in a uniform knew how to pick up a phone and dial my number.’

‘I swear to always call you first. I promise. But can we please skip the guilt trip.’

Bree’s grin was positively evil, but full of fun.

‘So, who told you I was here?’

‘Policeman Porter. He is a friend of the family, and he was worried. Said he saw your car still parked at the pub on his way to work. I’m just sorry I couldn’t get here sooner, but I’m here now.’ Bree picked up a spare chair, carried it around the table to sit right beside Harper, giving Harper her full and undivided attention. ‘How are you doing?’

Harper swallowed, her bottom lip quivering. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t call you … I got …’ The tears started again.

‘Come here, blossom, I’ve got you.’ Bree pulled her into her arms and held her.

It’s just what Harper needed, a hug from a friend, and she quietly wept, clutching her packets of shortbread like a teddy bear.

After a while, Harper sat back, wiping at the tears, and began stacking her packets of biscuits. ‘How are they?’

‘Mason misses you. Ash too, but he won’t admit it. Cap told them they’re idiots for what they did.’

‘They threw me out when they found out I was Mason’s aunt. I should have told them sooner. Or at least told you.’

‘Pfft, I already knew who you were. We do get google, that’s a little faster than homing pigeons, and I do know how to make a few phone calls.’

‘Leo knew, too.’

‘How?’

‘I don’t know. But I was trying to tell Ash, but we just kept putting it off, or something else got in the way. And …’ She looked at her hands. ‘I didn’t want to ruin the moments we had. I was happy out there. Somehow Elsie Creek Station helped me heal.’

‘I get it.’

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