Post festival weariness, Gabby supposed. She nodded, having no idea what to say or do.
“I was thinking that, too,” Kelly said into the phone. “We’ll see you in half an hour, then.”
Half an hour? Gabby swallowed hard. How could she keep up this conversation for half an hour?
Kelly stowed her phone. “Sara’s calling Lys and they’ll bring you some emergency gear.” She shrugged. “I have no idea what to expect. Lys tromps around in overalls and muddy boots most of the time and Sara in jeans and t-shirts, but at least they won’t be too big for you.”
Gabby’s face heated. “I borrowed some clothes I found in the closet.”
“Plumber’s,” Kelly said. “That explains the cuffs on the sleeves and pant legs.” She laughed. “He’s a big guy.”
He was. Kelly’s laugh wasn’t degrading, but it was infectious. Gabby laughed with her. “I’m grateful for them.” She worried her lip. “I should have thought to stop and get some on the road, but it didn’t even cross my mind.”
“I expect your mind was right where it needed to be—on getting away. When someone is in that fight-or-flight state, clothes are the last of their worries.”
“True.” That’s as far as Gabby could go.
“You need to sit down, Gabby.” Kelly lifted a hand and rubbed her nape. “I’m getting a crick in my neck.”
“Sorry.” Gabby tugged a stool to her side of the bar. She didn’t feel at all threatened by Kelly, but a little distance was in order. Now this Sara and Lys were coming to the cottage and it’d be three against one. Gabby didn’t like her odds on that, but she had a feeling Kelly was exactly who she presented herself to be, and if she was Plumber’s sister . . .
But what if she wasn’t?
Kelly filled the time putting Gabby at ease. Giving her directions to the shops on the cove, telling her where to get her hair and nails done, and where to buy groceries.
“Is there a tea shop?” Gabby asked.
“Actually, no, there isn’t.” Kelly grunted. “Apple cider, coffee, and that kind of thing, but no tea shop. Maybe Alyce at the coffee shop could order in for you.”
Gabby ventured to present a little of herself. Well, her new self. “Maybe I’ll add teas to my little business.”
That surprised Kelly. “You’ve got a business?”
“Not yet. But I’m planning one.” Gabby took the leap. “I want to make soaps and maybe bath oils and lotions. And I love exotic teas.” She winced. “That’s an odd combination though, isn’t it?”
“I don’t see anything odd about it.” Kelly fluffed her hair then flipped it behind her shoulder. “Shoot, why not make it a hodgepodge of things you love kind of shop?”
“I’ve never heard of that of that kind of shop.”
“It’d be the first of its kind in the Cove.” Kelly refilled her cup. “Fill your shop only with things you love, no matter what they are.”
Clearly, Kelly liked the idea. Gabby wasn’t sold on it being a recipe for success. “That might make it hard for shoppers. They won’t know what to expect.”
Kelly set the coffee carafe back on its burner and grunted. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
“Isn’t it?” It flew in the face of conventional wisdom. No marketer in the world would agree uncertainty was a good idea. And yet . . .
“I think shoppers, particularly women, love to be surprised now and then. It’s like a Christmas Stocking.” Kelly returned to her seat. “You never know what you’re going to find in it, but you know it’ll be something special.”
“Or fun.”
“Or frivolous. Women love frivolous, but feel guilty buying, which of course, they do anyway.” Kelly’s eyes twinkled. “Your shop could be famous for spousal makeup gifts.”
“Famous for restoring the peace.” For shoppers and for Gabby.
“Famous for getting hubby out of the doghouse.” Kelly laughed hard and deep. “You’ll make a fortune.”
“I like that restoring the peace,” Gabby admitted. “It seems awfully self-indulgent and risky, but it sounds like fun, too.”
“Soaps and teas and—and whatever else Gabby treasures.”
Gabby stilled. That was it. The name of her business. “Gabby’s Treasures.” She smiled. “Kelly, you’re a genius.” The smile grew to a laugh, but steel determination settled under it. Mentally, she added it to her list. “One day, I am going to open a shop and call it Gabby’s Treasures.”
Kelly’s eyes sparkled. “Awesome. There happens to be a little place for lease in the business district.”
“I’m probably going to have to build an online business first to earn enough to fund an actual store.”
“Starting from scratch. I forgot. Sorry.” Kelly looked genuinely contrite. “Well, it just so happens the place is empty and it’s not doing anyone any good—the other merchants do not like to see empty stores. Let me talk to the owner and see if there’s anything he can do.”
“Who is the owner?”
“Plumber.” Kelly grinned.
“Oh, no. Don’t do that.” Gabby set down her cup. “He’s letting me stay here already. And I don’t have the funds to stock the place right now, so there’s no sense in it.”
Kelly nodded.
“Do you live in the farmhouse next door?”
“No, our folks do, when they’re not traveling.” Kelly grinned. “That’s not often these days, though they do usually make it home once a year for a week or two.”
“So they love to travel.”
“Mom does,” Kelly said. “Dad tolerates it because he loves her. He’d be planted on this property if it were just up to him. But he promised her they could travel, so when he retired, they bought a big RV and they’ve been on the road most of the time since.”
Gabby chuckled. “He’s enjoying it or he’d never be doing that.”
“Exactly.” Kelly nodded her agreement, then sipped at her coffee.
A knock on the door interrupted their conversation.
Kelly jumped to her feet. “Sara and Lys,” she said. “I’ll get it.”
Gabby checked the clock. Thirty minutes had passed already? She couldn’t believe it.
Sara and Lys came in with their arms full of clothes and dumped them on the sofa. Which was which, Gabby didn’t have a clue. Not until she looked at their shoes.
Lys wore boots—no mud. And a tan cap. Her sandy-blond hair was long, loose and curly, and her eyes bright and intelligent. Sara was a redhead, tiny and delicate looking. It was just a feeling, but Gabby thought that fragile look might be deceptive.
“Hi, Gabby. I’m Sara,” the redhead said.
“I’m Lys Hayden,” the blonde in boots said. “Glad to meet you.”
“We didn’t know what style you like, though neither of us has much in the way of stylish clothes, but we grabbed what we had, and you’re welcome to it.”
The gesture overwhelmed Gabby. Yes, the thought had crossed her mind that she’d been found and this could be a way Medros had wheedled his way in to kill her—she’d been warned the assassin could be anyone—but it was highly unlikely they’d come in as Christmas Cove locals, gifting her with clothes.