Page 49 of The Spice Is Nice

The bell chimed as he left. The coldness followed him out. I stood behind the counter with my arm throbbing where his fingers had been and my phone still recording on the counter beside me. For what felt like the first time all day, I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. I hit stop on the recording, my bare wrist without the bracelet a painful reminder of Mom, of love and loss. But I didn’t have time to dwell on it right now. I turned my attention to Colt’s sisters with a smile.

An hour later, I realized how much I really enjoyed them. They were a force of nature, smart and strong, women who obviously had money, but more than that, pure class and the sweetest of hearts. They had practically pulled half my inventory off the shelves and created a growing pile on the counter that included everything—boots, dresses, shirts, jeans, a tooled leather belt, the wildflower denim jacket, a stack of graphic tees silkscreened by a local artisan group with Montana-centric designs.

Most of it presents for everyone in their family, and for themselves. They even wanted a gift card to give Colt to spend before he came home for Christmas.

I had never seen anything like it in my life. Money was not a problem, which was good considering the rising total. I rang things up in a grateful daze, my hands shaking slightly from what had happened minutes before they arrived, steadying a little more with each scan of a price tag.

I made sure to smile at the right moments, laugh at their jokes, keep my eyes on whoever was speaking—all while my mind was splitting its attention. Half of it was here, trying to keep up with the conversation. The other half was thinking about what came next: the moment they left, I would lock the door, pull out my phone, and call Gavin. I had a recording—Seth’s voice admitting to the fence-cutting, the things he did for his dad, all of it.

It had to be enough. If the sheriff could arrest him, my sisters and I might be safe.

I gathered Maisy’s husband Brooks was a professor of architecture, only after he’d already built a multi-million dollar firm with his twin Archer. Rex and Richard were theheirs to the Buchanan Energy throne, but now focused on real estate development. They talked about their kids easily, their homes warmly, and Colt with a tenderness that made me miss him so much.

Every few minutes, I found myself glancing at the windows. The street out front. The gap between the boot display and the door. Watching for a figure in a leather jacket. The part of me that kept the smile in place and asked the right questions and efficiently rang up their purchases was running on fumes, on pure performance, the same way I’d held it together in Seth’s grip. But I kept the smile steady and my voice light, and my eyes from landing too long on any one window.

“We’re going to need these shipped,” Chelsea said, eyeing the pile. “There’s no way this is fitting in our bags. I mean, we flew out here on the private jet, but this is a lot to pack in there. I hope that’s okay.”

“Can you be sure to add a percentage to cover the shipping costs to the final total?” Rex handed me a black card.

“Absolutely. I ship all the time. I’ll have everything sent to you by next week.” I would definitely need to restock before Christmas now; no one would hear me complaining about that.

This single visit would make my monthly budget, and then some. I boxed and wrapped and tagged while they wandered back for a second and third pass, pulling things off shelves I’d forgotten I had.

It was during the final tally—while Maisy photographed the pile to send to their mother—that the conversation shifted. Maisy set her phone down and lookedat me with Colt’s eyes. The same blue-green and sense of calm behind them.

“Ivy, can I say something?”

“Of course.”

“We obviously miss our brother. We’d love nothing more than to have him come home.” She paused, choosing her words with the care of a woman who’d thought about this. “But seeing him again here was different. We think something happened on the ship that he won’t talk about. We’ve been worried about him. But seeing how happy he was next to you, the way he looked at you, I could tell he’s doing very well here.” She exchanged a glance with Chelsea.

The heat rose in my cheeks, and I kept my eyes down at the receipt printer like it required my full concentration. They saw him as happy—with me. But I probably ruined it. I was happy too. And now I don’t know where we stand.

“If he’s happy here, then that’s all we want for him,” Chelsea concluded.

“But we would love it if he’d come home for Christmas. Mom would love a visit from him. And you should come too. She’d adore you. I mean it. Holly Creek was designed for Christmas. You’re welcome there with Colt, Ivy. Please know that.”

My chest swelled. These women had known me for a minute, and they were inviting me into their family’s Christmas celebration. I thought about my sisters—steadfast Daisy, dependable Sage, and bright Poppy—and how much they would have loved this afternoon. Both groups of sisters would have gotten along well. I missed the chance to talk with them more on Sunday night. I appreciated they had stopped in today—in more ways than one.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.” It was the only response I could give them.

“We texted Colt last night.” Chelsea pulled on her coat and sighed. “He texted back and sounded exhausted. But at least we got to say our goodbyes. I hate leaving like this, but we have to get back. We left all the kids with Mom and Richard’s wife.”

“And we left them my farm babies to take care of, too,” Richard reminded her. Everyone laughed, the women rolling their eyes.

“My brother, the wanna-be farmer,” Rex shook his head, grinning. I had punched in the black card numbers, added a bit for shipping, and gulped when I saw the total. I didn’t feel the need to announce it, simply handed Rex back his card and turned my card terminal his way so he could see it and sign. He didn’t bat an eye.

“We met the Hollis’s yesterday and toured their beautiful property.” Richard sounded like he had a lot of respect for the land behind his words; I could tell.

“It is. I know Colt and I, and I’m sure the Hollis’s are grateful for all you did in that situation.” I eyed the pair of brothers.

“We’re the ones who should be grateful. We’d always talked about buying property out west. Our dad would have loved this place.”

Maisy squeezed my hand across the counter. “Take care of yourself, Ivy. Most importantly, take care of our brother.”

“I will.” If he’d let me. If I had ruined things and he’d take me back, anyway.

They gathered a few bags of things they were takingwith them for now and headed for the door. My pulse sped, debating some way to keep them here a little longer, eyeing out the windows for a sign of the man I didn’t want to see.