Page 125 of The Savior

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Crisp red leaves mixed with yellow and brown ones, and Chelsea drank in the cool morning air. Real fall was upon them, the kind in which Thanksgiving displays popped up before Halloween and frost glazed windshields across the parking lot every morning. The weather wasjustright. She could get away with a pullover but wouldn’t mind a jacket.

Truthfully, after a few days of alternating between being in Liam’s arms, working on her book project, and monitoring the Nyman residence, Chelsea didn’t mind much, even with her semi-lack of employment. She was living her best life. And as a bonus, she was living her best morning, enjoying a fall walk from her condo to the farmer’s market.

Chelsea stepped off the footpath across from her condo complex and crossed the street. The shopping center had been transformed into a village of flower tents, fruit and veggie stalls, and rows upon rows of farm-fresh dairy products, baked goods, and heavenly treats. Her stomach growled as she thought of homemade honey buns and iced cinnamon bread. But her first stop was always the same fruit stand run by the same woman, who went by the simplest name—the Apple Lady.

Never in all the years Chelsea had bought her smoothie supplies did she wonder who the Apple Lady was when she left the market—until now. She melted into the crowd and wondered if the kind woman’s gentleness was real or simply a role played to sell local fruit, and if her kind eyes and easy smile told of a life that Chelsea was certain smelled like nutmeg and sounded like laughter.

She wondered about everyone else too.Are there others nearby who lost their best friend? Who are falling for wonderful men?She couldn’t tell simply by looking at the passing faces. Even before she was trained, she had been smart enough to know folks weren’t always what they seemed. They were made of sins and scars, love and luck, the darkest darks and the brightest lights. People were decisions, choices, consequences, opportunities, risk, and reward. They were so much more than she could comprehend, and the realization that everyone lived as complex lives as she did made her feel infinitely small and magnificently special.

Sidestepping a gaggle of weekend warriors who were sampling the Apple Lady’s apple cider, Chelsea waved hello. “Busy today.”

The woman held a large pink apple in one hand and a light-green one in the other. “These two beauties are the reason why.”

Chelsea smiled, certain that the Apple Lady’s house smelled like brown sugar too. “Why’s that?”

“They are everything that fall fruit should be. ”

That wasn’t really an answer, but it somehow fit Chelsea’s mood. “I should bring some home. Which one is sweeter? ”

She raised the pink apple. “Sweeter and softer. But don't discount this one's tart punch.”

Smiling again, Chelsea recalled almost the exact same conversation from the year before and the year before that—though then, Julia had been there too. The cycle of fruit continued. The seasons brought change, and the years offered a repeat of the year before. The more everything changed, the more it stayed the same. “I'll try them both.”

The Apple Lady beamed, then other customers at the far end of the fruit stall asked for help with cider. “Keep looking. I’ll be back in a few.”

Or more than a few. Chelsea regarded the small group, who seemed to have hit the mimosas a little hard that morning. “Take your time.”

They shared a knowing laugh, and Chelsea eyed a large bunch of plump grapes and stacks of pears.

“Ohhh.” A young girl had her eyes on the same fruits and reached out for them, bumping into Chelsea.

Chelsea grinned and gave the little girl more room as her mother, who had a baby tied to her chest, offered an apology then added, “Look with your eyes. Not your fingers.Please.”

It took anotherpleasebefore the girl pulled her hands back.

Chelsea tried not to melt from the cuteness as the little girl took her mother’s other hand.

It had been just seconds since the mother gave a semi-sweet scolding, and they’d locked hands as if the incident weren’t even a faint memory. What a night-and-day difference from how Chelsea had been raised. Just thinking about it made her stiffen.

Not that her mother would’ve taken her to something as frivolous as a farmer’s market, but if she had and Chelsea reached for a grape, the reprimand wouldn’t have been cutesy and ended with a handhold.

She watched the little girl chatter about pink apples and go over the moon when her mom produced a bright-yellow one.

Maybe, one day, Chelsea might be that type of heartening mother. Maybe she’dbea mom. Her pulse fluttered.A mom?She’d never thought about her future like that before, and an unhurried sigh made her feel as squishy as a toasted marshmallow.

And Liam… what kind of father would he be?That marshmallow-y feeling melted into an ooey-gooey delight she’d never experienced.

The girl pulled her mom away. Chelsea’s tranquil thoughts drifted as she turned back to the fruit and found a black calla lily.

Ice-cold awareness ripped through her. Chelsea twisted and jumped back, then, far, far too close, Chelsea was face to face with Zee Zee Mars.

Familiarity that she couldn’t explain slapped her senseless until Zee Zee’s smugness broke their trance. She grabbed a pear with nonchalant coolness that couldn’t be faked. Zee Zee tossed the fruit, caught it in her opposite hand, and took a bite. Her pupils dilated, and a hint of a dare turned up the corners of her lips. Never once did she blink. “Chelsea Kilpatrick, in the flesh.”

Chelsea’s mind raced. She had no backup, not even her purse, as she had a monthly tab with the Apple Lady. She didn’t even have so much as a bobby pin to MacGyver into a weapon.

Zee Zee smacked the pear juice from her lips. “I haven't seen you in a while. ”

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