Page 18 of All Along The Watchtower

Monty:

Is Ed okay?

Bree:

He’s fine.

Monty:

On my way.

That sorted, I pulled my mental armor into place and headed back out to the floor to check on customers. Drew McNamara and his family were already gone. So were two of the othertables. Willa and Sawyer were still at their booth. I crossed over, automatically checking every other table. A few more patrons had wandered in while I’d been in the back.

Willa arched both brows. “Well?”

I kept my voice low. “He’s working on getting back. I’m taking her home with me in the meantime. Did anyone say anything?”

Sawyer shook his head. “No. Drew and Kelly will keep mum. I think the other tables might have been too far to hear for sure.” He leaned forward, gaze intent on me. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

When he only looked at me, I blew out a breath. “I’m taking this one minute at a time. Right now, my focus is on Peyton.”

He and Willa exchanged one of those married-people-telepathy looks.

I wagged my finger between them. “Just no. I want no part of whatever silent conversation you’re having about me right now.”

Willa reached out to squeeze my hand. “Fair enough. But we’re here if you need us. For anything.”

I unbent enough to squeeze back. “Thanks, Wills.”

I went back to check on Peyton. She’d just about finished her Coke.

I was on the verge of asking if she wanted food, when Monty burst through the kitchen doors in a whirl of color and energy. “Your knight in fabulous armor has arrived, darling.”

“Thank God.” I pulled him into a quick hug. “I need you to handle things tonight.”

His gaze slid past me to where Peyton sat. Questions blazed in his eyes, but bless him, he didn’t ask them. Instead, he straightened his bow tie and gave me a small nod.

“Peter’s popping by for dinner later. We’ll keep the ship sailing smooth as silk.” He squeezed my hand. “Go do what you need to do.”

I grabbed my keys and gestured to Peyton, who eyed Monty with equal curiosity. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s get out of here.”

She slung her worn backpack—the only thing she had with her—over one shoulder. My throat tightened at the sight. I remembered what it felt like to have next to nothing of my own beyond a broken heart and what fit into a trash bag. We slipped out through the kitchen’s back door. The rain had finally stopped, and the evening air had turned crisp, carrying the salt-tang of the ocean. My Jeep sat in its usual spot in the small back lot, and I unlocked it with trembling fingers.

Peyton climbed in without a word. The silence stretched between us as I drove through the village streets toward my cottage. I caught glimpses of her in my peripheral vision, the way she kept her backpack clutched tight against her chest like a shield.

The drive was mercifully short. As I pulled into my driveway, I realized I had no idea what to say to this girl who’d traveled across the country alone, searching for a father who didn’t know she existed.

The lights inside were on. I’d texted Pop to go ahead and drop Keeley home. I hadn’t explained why, just said I’d be home early tonight. If he’d wondered why I hadn’t been by to pick her up myself, he hadn’t asked. We both slid out of the Jeep and trudged up the walk to the front door of the cottage. The moment I opened the door, my sweetheart of a mutt began to bark and dance, turning excited circles as she realized we had company.

Too late, it occurred to me that Peyton might not be okay with dogs. Sure, she’d seemed okay with Roy, but he hadn’t been in total crackhead mode like Keeley was. As I turned to grab for her collar, Peyton made a noise of delight and dropped to her knees. My pup yipped and immediately began bathing her face with kisses. The giggle snort that followed relieved at least a little of the anxiety coursing through me.

“Peyton, meet Keeley. Keeley, please do not feel the need to bathe our guest.”

Keeley barked and bounced, her blue eyes sparkling with joy and mischief.

“Cookie?”

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