Page 15 of The Fence Between Us

Like Elyza, the owner, Kellyn, was a transplant to the town, but she moved to Shiloh Hills and opened the cafe several years ago. She worked behind the counter, whipping up specialty coffees and hot drinks and using a pair of dainty tongs to placesoft pastries on several tiered dessert stands and behind the domed glass. Flour dusted the pockets of her black apron, and a smudge of whipped topping sat on her cheek, beneath her multicolored glasses frames. She wore her signature red hair piled high atop her head, and a black bandana separated the artfully messy bun from the choppy bangs that hung over her forehead.

Skye smiled. Kellyn never failed to cheer her up, partially because the woman looked like she just stepped out of a Rosie the Riveter poster, if Rosie wore black denim and leather and carried a frosting bag instead of a wrench.

Before Skye could lift her hand in greeting, Kellyn turned to her, eyebrow raised, and immediately picked up a chocolate donut with hot pink frosting swirled on top, plated it, and slid it onto the table in front of Skye.

A moment later, a white chocolate mocha joined the plate, and Skye found herself struggling to hold back tears. “How do you always know?” She sniffled, willing the pressure behind her eyes to subside. That was all she needed to break down and blubber like a crazy woman in the middle of the local cafe.

Kellyn gave her a secret smile, revealing straight white teeth. “I work in mysterious ways.”

“Elyza called, didn’t she?”

“—and Elyza called.” Kellyn’s smile turned sheepish, and she slid into the opposite seat.

Skye should have known; Elyza worked faster than the emergency call service in Shiloh Hills. If someone needed something, you could bet Elyza would have that item procured within a few minutes. Unfortunately, the talent seemed to extend to news about her friends as well. Skye couldn’t complain too much. Elyza meant well.

Chuckling with defeat, Skye took a bite of the pastry to stall their inevitable conversation and groaned with appreciation as she savored the chocolate treat that never lost its pillowy center.

“Should I expect her to show up too?” Skye contemplated licking the remaining icing from her fingers. In the end, she grabbed a napkin and cleaned off her hands.

A rush of hot air swept over them as the door opened and in walked Elyza, her forehead dotted with sweat from the trek over, even though her shop and the cafe were both on the same block, just opposite ends.

A giggle escaped Skye, and she shoved her hand in front of her mouth to keep from spewing crumbs everywhere at Kellyn’s knowing look.

Skye was thankful for these women, more than she could ever express. After Rabble, Skye struggled to make friends, always throwing up a wall between her and whoever tried to get closer. Holding everyone at arm’s length was easier, but it made for a lonely existence, especially as her college friends went off, got married, and had babies.

Kellyn and Elyza were different though, and they both seemed to adopt her as their own. Sometimes the best part of their friendship was the silence they allowed to lapse between them; it was so much like the reflective quiet she’d enjoyed with Rabble, and her friends seemed to understand her needs. She loved them for that, the unspoken understanding and acceptance that went into everything the three of them did. Even now, with both of them most likely dying to find out about Skye’s issue with Rabble, neither of her friends would push the issue until she was ready to talk. She needed to be the one to open that line of conversation. After that though, it was fair game.

Taking another bite, Skye chewed thoughtfully, searching her memories for a good place to start. Summing up her historywith Rabble would be complicated and messy. Parts of their time together, like the night his mother died, belonged solely to them.

Deciding what to tell them was harder than she anticipated, and she ended up sitting back and finishing her donut while Elyza and Kellyn made small talk. The chocolate worked its way into the cracks of her heart and soothed the jagged and painful edges. Explaining who Rabble was to her was like explaining the Sun in relation to the Earth, a vital element that could both heal and scorch. It wasn’t an easy thing to describe, how intrinsically they had been linked, only to have that connection sundered so completely.

When the last of her pastry was gone, Skye cleared her throat, and her friends turned toward her, their conversation forgotten as they sat, ready to listen and be by her side, no matter what.

“I’ve known Rabble since we were children. He was my next-door neighbor. But…he was so much more than that.” Skye kept her voice as even as she could and waited for the explosion.

Chapter 9

Rabble

The next morning, Rabble, Declan, and Dash sat around the dining table at the bed and breakfast, which had not changed since as long as Rabble could remember. The table had been built by Mrs. Basket’s husband, Charlie, the winter after they’d married and held the honored position as their dining table for their too few years together. Imperfections aplenty marked up the wood—discolorations in the stain, indentations, and scratches. For every scar or mark though, Mrs. Basket had a story to tell, lovingly running her fingers over each mark as she spoke. Rabble had heard those stories repeatedly while working at the bed and breakfast. Whenever she echoed a certain story, Rabble never let on, allowing Mrs. Basket to relive the memories when she’d been happiest with her husband.

Now, the table seemed smaller, casework files spread across the wooden surface and three large men perched on the questionably rickety chairs. Breakfast platters piled with eggs, bacon, biscuits, and skillet potatoes sat on the buffet table against the wall, empty except for a few crumbs. No one woulddoubt that the three of them could put away a decent amount of food on a good day, but when Mrs. Basket made everything from scratch—well, it had been a long minute since any of them had enjoyed a good homecooked meal.

Seeing Mrs. Basket again had nearly brought Rabble to his knees. Logically, he’d known she would age, but the increased wrinkles that pulled at her mouth and crinkled the corners of her eyes when she smiled almost bowled him over. Just as beautiful as ever, she was the closest he had ever come to having a grandmother. He’d asked about her health and hobbies and had a hard time not inquiring after every detail of her life while they caught up. He’d missed her. Giving up Shiloh Hills had come with its downsides, and missing out on time with Mrs. Basket was one mistake he would never be able to undo.

Rabble checked his watch again, noticing the late hour, and tried to hurry their morning meeting along, knowing Mrs. Basket and Olivia would be in soon to clear away breakfast and prepare for lunch.

“She’s definitely made the place into a home,” Declan said, reporting on how Bekah was doing. Claiming the house as her own, decorating and creating a home, was a small but vital part of the process as far as Rabble was concerned. If the client never felt comfortable enough to settle into their new accommodations, they wouldn’t be able to pull off staying away from their old life for long.

Declan tapped his pen against the table. “And she seems genuinely excited about starting work with Elyza.”

Rabble hoped Shiloh Hills suited Bekah well. The small town had some level of commerce that kept it from falling completely off of the map, but it was one of those hidden gems people didn’t tend to find unless they were looking for it. The fact that Rabble could distance himself enough from some of his worst memories to view Shiloh Hills as promising spoke volumes about the townas a whole. Bekah should be able to live a quiet and safe life there if she wanted to.

Rabble caught Declan and Dash glancing at each other again, the fifth time in half an hour. Admittedly, his brothers had waited longer than he thought they would, and he commended their restraint. Regardless, he could tell they were growing weary of his vague answers and half-truths about the woman from The Wild Bride on their first day in town. He was also tired of tip-toeing around the topic of Skye, but how did he tell his brothers he had never been man enough to go after the only woman he ever truly wanted?

He was happy with his life now, wasn’t he? They had plenty of work coming in and helped people who needed it. He worked with the two best friends a guy could ask for and had relative peace. So why had coming back to Shiloh Hills made him feel sick inside? Why had the thought of seeing Skye made him so nervous and frustrated? And why couldn’t he stop replaying the kiss he’d brushed against her cheek?

He knew why. Rabble just didn’t want to say the words out loud. The moment they knew, Declan would probably tell Rabble exactly what he was thinking while Dash would stay silent, his disapproval showing in his eyes.

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