“Nine-thirty. I’m helping Kelly and Lys put some fencing on the dock. Kelly’s worried the little ones could step off and into the water.”
“That’s because when she was a little one, she did.”
“You went in after her.”
“Actually, I did.” He shivered. “That water was so cold.”
“I’ll bet.”
He paused. “Want to ride in together?”
“Sure.”
“That’ll work.” Plumber shrugged into his jacket. “I’ll be here at 9:15.”
That confused her. “Where are you staying?”
“In the farmhouse next door.”
“Of course. I’ll walk over.”
He started toward the door.
“By the way,” she said. “Who do I owe for the Malibu?”
“No one. The Mustang took care of it.”
“But the Mustang was totaled in the crash.” Now, she was really confused.
“I couldn’t do it,” he confessed, doing his best to look sheepish. “You loved that car.”
She had. But that mattering to him surprised her. “So, what car crashed in the accident where I died?”
“A Mustang.”
He’d switched the vehicles. That explained how it had gotten to Florida so fast. “And Medros’s goons inspected it and thought it was mine?”
He nodded. “Simple change of VIN plate, tags, and such.”
The troops had gone to a lot of extra trouble. She almost felt guilty about that. Almost. But guilt paled compared to knowing her Mustang survived even if she hadn’t. “Where’s my Mustang?”
He smiled enigmatically. “Safely tucked away for another day.”
A little laugh escaped her. “All I can say is, if a body has to die to live, you and the troops are definitely the people to have on your side, making it happen.”
He winked. “For the troops, it’s anything for our Gate Keeper.”
Plumber had excluded himself. She didn’t know what to think about that.
“For me, it’s anything for you.” He winked at her then walked toward the door and said over his shoulder. “Lock it.”
She walked over and locked the door, grinning like an idiot, happier than she’d ever been in her life.
Amazing. Just amazing. Who could have imagined that life after death—okay, life after fake death—could be so good? So full of promise for everything her heart ever had desired?
It was a miracle.
Her Grandmother’s book of soap recipes and her Mustang spared and safe?
More miracles.
And Shadow Watcher—er, Plumber?
Okay, hands down, a fistful of miracles.
Chapter Sixteen
Tuesday, December 15, 9:00 a.m.
Gabby had tested her first batch of soaps twice and they’d made the cut. She inserted them in the sample packaging she had ordered and dropped them into colorful Christmas gift bags. The brownies she’d loaded into Christmas tins and stacked them on the end of the breakfast bar.
Rushing to get a second cup of coffee down before 9:10, she rinsed the cup at the sink, put on her hat, coat and gloves and scooped up the goodies, then headed for the door. As she reached for the doorknob, she heard someone knocking. Startled, she juggled the tins and spilled them onto the side-table to keep from dropping them. How long would it take to stop jumping out of her skin every time someone came to the door?
“Gabby, it’s me.”
Plumber. Her heart got out of her throat and back into her chest where it belonged. She opened the door. “Good morning.”
“I’m early.”
Like her, he’d dressed in jeans and a heavy sweater under his coat. “Three minutes or so, but I’m ready.” She reached for the brownie tins on the little table.
He wiggled a fingertip between the giftbags looped at her wrist to the tins. “What’s all this?”
“Sample soaps and brownies.” She passed the stack of tins to him. “The soaps are promised, and I thought the workers might like a snack.”
“The people here are going to love you,” he predicted. “One thing Christmas Covers love almost as much as the holidays is food.”
She laughed. “Christmas Covers. Is that what the residents call themselves?”
“Typically, it’s just Covers.”
“That’s a clever way to differentiate between locals and tourists.”
“I guess. Never really thought about it. Just grew up with it, you know?”
She had no idea what that was like but nodded anyway.
They locked up then went outside and climbed into his white Jeep. “Who did you promise the soaps?” he asked.
Gabby clicked her seatbelt into place. “Alyce Crawley at the coffeeshop, Mimi Taylor—she crafts the best ornaments, doesn’t she?”
“The kids love decorating their own. The adults, too, for that matter.” He cranked the engine and put the Jeep into Drive.
“And Leigh Pace at Patchwork Needle.” Her quilts and quilted items were unusual and just gorgeous.
“And the rest?” he asked. “I’m counting six bags.” He pulled onto the road to the business district and headed toward Main Street and the docks that were located at the foot of it.
“The triple threat.” The Jeep hit a bump, and Gabby grabbed the door.
“I’ll go with you to make the deliveries.”
“I don’t want to slow you down.”
Plumber shrugged. “You won’t.”
The stores were less than a block apart, so the deliveries went swiftly. “I have an ulterior motive for going with you,” Plumber said. “I want to show you something.”
“Okay.” Gabby had no idea what to expect. It seemed everyone here knew and liked him. All three of the women, Alyce, Mimi and Leigh, had hugged and chastised him for staying gone so long this time. Alyce actually had told Gabby she needed to see to it he came home more often. That flustered Gabby. Why would Alyce think Gabby had any control over Plumber’s schedule or activities?
At the corner of Main and First, across the street from the bank, he pulled to the curb. “We’re here.”
Her heart pounded hard. He’d parked directly in front of the little store with the wide front window and the old-fashioned green door. She loved that storefront. On first sight, she had imagined Gabby’s Treasures there.
“When you were talking about your store, this place came to mind. It’s empty. I thought you could take a look.” He walked right to the door and inserted an old skeleton key into the lock. “What would you think about opening Gabby’s Treasures here?”
She stepped inside. A long wooden counter stretched halfway down the right side of the expanse. A few shelves hung stacked on the wall behind it, and the backside of the counter was all cabinets for storage. The rest of the shop was empty. White walls, tile floor—a blank slate. Almost breathless, Gabby said, “It’s on Main and First.”
“You said in the business district,” Plumber reminded her, sounding uncertain. “Do you like it?”
She paused and turned to face him, her emotions in riot. “This is the shop I dreamed on, Plumber.”