Page 36 of Shelter from the Storm

Gretchen and Edith said their goodbyes, though it took a little while, given the way Theo, Nora, and Remi were working overtime to convince Gretchen to stay. They weren’t pressuring her, just genuinely sorry to see her leave, which was sweet, but she’d spent the last hour with her hands tucked in her pockets, trying to hide the fact she was trembling.

She couldn’t dismiss Briggs from her mind, and she had suffered enough panic attacks in the past to know that one was looming. If—when—it became full blown, she preferred to be back at Edith’s, where she could retreat to the privacy of her own room and ride it out alone.

Once they were in the car, Gretchen turned her face to the passenger window, though she wasn’t seeing the same beautiful view she’d been admiring on the ride to the farm this morning.

She was so distracted by her thoughts she was surprised when Edith pulled into the driveway. They’d made the entire trip back in silence.

As they walked into the house, Edith stopped just over the threshold. “I know we haven’t known each other for long, sweetheart, but I want you to know that if anything is bothering you, you can talk to me. I’ve got a few years on me, and while I don’t pretend to know all the answers, maybe I’ll have something in my arsenal of experience that will help.”

Gretchen was tempted to lie once more, to insist nothing was wrong, but she was so tired of being alone. The pressure on her chest was unbearable and her strength was all but gone.

Edith must have sensed her wavering. “Maybe you could start by telling me about those bruises on your neck that you showed up here with last week.”

Gretchen blinked rapidly, trying to stem the tears, but that was impossible when Edith reached out and pulled her into an embrace that was remarkably strong, given her tiny size.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Jesus.

Gretchen had waited a lifetime for her mother to offer her that kind of support, those comforting words. She never had. Not once.

The fight left her as Gretchen clung to Edith, crying out a lifetime of fears and sadness. And then she opened up…and told the dear woman everything.

Everything.

Chapter Seven

Theo tossed the beanbag up in the air a few times, pretending to seriously size up his target, a pyramid of red Solo cups. Gretchen stood next to him, chowing down on pink cotton candy, cheering him on.

The annual Fall Harvest Festival was in full swing and, while Theo always enjoyed the event, he was having even more fun this year. Because he’d spent the entire day with Gretchen. He’d invited her to join him for all the festivities earlier in the week, offering to be her guide to ensure she didn’t miss anything fun, and he was thrilled when she readily accepted.

He’d anticipated having to convince her, just as he had with the daily driving lessons…and the welcome cookout…and his weekly Thursday happy hour at the brewery with him and Nora…and Grayson’s birthday party at the winery…and the bowling excursion with his family.

Theo had come to learn that her initial rejections of his invitations had nothing to do with disinterest and everything to do with not wanting to be an imposition. Because once they got where they were going, Gretchen was all-in, excited to be included.

She had officially finished her third week as the farm’s event coordinator, and in that short time, she’d won over every single member of his large family. She’d also proven herself to be a hard worker with a willingness to learn. She soaked in new information like a sponge, and he’d been granted a few tiny peeks of what he decided was a personality that had the potential to be as vivacious as his own.

Sadly, those glimpses of the witty, fun-loving woman were too brief, often followed by a strange, sudden silence he didn’t understand. It was almost as if Gretchen feared some sort of repercussion for having fun. Like she’d be punished for making a joke or laughing too loud.

She was definitely an enigma, one with many layers. Not that he minded, because he happened to love onions, and he was more than ready to peel back every single one of hers.

This morning, he and his entire family made the trip to Main Street to watch Gracemont’s Fall Harvest Day parade. Edith, Manny, and Gretchen had joined them, plopping their camp chairs down along the curb, everyone laughing and chatting as they waited for the festivities to begin.

While it was no Macy’s Thanksgiving Day event complete with giant balloons and celebrities, the parade was still entertaining, as the local middle and high school bands marched down the street, playing somewhat recognizable music. In addition to the bands, there were four floats—the same four floats that traversed the parade route every year. The only difference was which business took their turn to sponsor them, the signage, and who got to ride on them.

It had been Stormy Weather Farm’s turn two years earlier. He, Remi, and Maverick had represented the family, waving merrily to the crowds, while Levi drove the truck pulling them, blasting “Beer for My Horses” and “Hole in the Bottle.”

All the town dignitaries were also part of the line-up, as members of the town council—his dad included—rolled by on the back of pickup trucks, waving and smiling. Theo had rolled his eyes when Mayor Scottie Grover went past, perched on the back of some expensive convertible his parents had either rented or bought for the damn event, looking like every inch the smarmy politician he was. He’d even tacked Reelect Grover signs to the sides, using the parade as an opportunity to campaign.

Theo had shouldered Sam, telling him next year, he’d be the one riding by. Sam had joked, saying if he won, he wanted to ride the route on the farm’s tractor.

“You gonna pitch that thing or what?” Jerry Peterson pulled Theo from his thoughts.

Jerry was Gracemont’s Mr. Fix-it, running a repair shop on Main Street. However, today, he was manning the beanbag toss game. All the proceeds from the fair games were being donated to the Gracemont Fire Station, which was in bad need of a new tanker, so Jerry, a volunteer firefighter, was sporting red suspenders and his helmet to help promote the cause.

Theo winked at Gretchen, pointing to the stuffed animal prizes. “Start figuring out which one you want.”

Gretchen’s barely there smile emerged, but she quickly covered it with her hand, something she still did quite a lot.

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