Page 54 of The Bodyguard's Fall

The Autumn Ridge Library.

There was no parking in front of the library, so Tate parked his truck down by the Maple Bar and Grill. For a long moment, he stared at the brick building down the street.

“Isn’t this like the mother ship for you people? Why do you need to go inside?”

I laughed. “Why are you scared to go inside?”

“This is the place I got quietly yelled at my entire life to be quiet by people who looked like my sweet grandma. It was confusing.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have been causing trouble in the library. Respect the walls, Walker.”

“It was too much fun not to.”

“We don’t have to go if⁠—”

He rolled his eyes and opened his door. “We’re going, Rawlins. Let’s see who can be the bravest today.”

For the first time all season, the forecast had been chilly enough to dress for fall. I'd been waiting a long time for the chance to pull out my knee-high brown boots, cream-colored sweater, and green scarf. Actually having somewhere to go while wearing them was the icing on the cake. The trees lining the streets boasted yellows, coral oranges, and deep-red leaves. That combined with being near Keller’s Bakehouse meant that even the air smelled like cinnamon and apples. Fall in this town was pure magic.

I cautiously fell into step beside Tate on the sidewalk. He reached for my hand, and I remembered that we were a full-blown couple as far as Autumn Ridge was concerned. Instead, I slipped my hand through the crook of Tate’s arm. It felt like the kind of brisk morning walk where a woman should be clutching her lover’s arm, which coincidentally brought his body closer to me.

Thankfully, Tate was in cop mode and didn’t notice. He was meticulously surveying buildings, faces, and cars as we walked. I relaxed into him ever so slightly. With him on the hunt, I scanned the beautiful fall window displays of each store we passed and observed the shoppers on the street, wearing beanies and sipping coffee from their steaming cups.

Growing up, every October, my mom and I treated our Saturdays like gold. No matter how busy our week was, we’d grab a hot chocolate from Keller’s and spend an hour window shopping on Main Street or thumbing through books at the bookstore. We both shared a love for autumn and a slow Saturday morning, and I suddenly felt homesick for a feeling I hadn’t felt in a while. For a place where people knew who I was. There was a comfort in that. A safety in a town that felt like family. It had been so long since I’d felt at home somewhere.

Or with someone.

As we got closer, the sight of a seemingly unassuming elderly pair made my stomach drop in dread.

Forget Leroy. We had a much bigger problem this morning.

What sat at a small table outside of Keller’s Bakehouse, coffee cups and a half-eaten sticky bun sitting before each of them, was nearly as terrifying as Leroy himself. There were curlers in their hair, jewelry dangling off their necks and wrists, and they were cackling loudly at something up the road.

I glanced up at Tate, wondering if he’d discovered the same thing, but he seemed completely oblivious to the immediate threat not so innocently sitting before us in bright-colored polyester pants.

They noticed us right away, if their gawking and the sudden silence of their cackles meant anything.

Maybe they wouldn’t recognize me. It had been so long since I’d graced the streets in this town.

I attempted to cover the side of my face with my hair as we passed, gave them a tight smile and a nod, and kept walking.

“Aren’t you the little Rawlins girl?”

My heart sank as our steps slowed.

The Ednas had recognized me. Will had hoped to keep my time in Autumn Ridge quiet for my safety. But now with Tate in charge, I wasn’t sure how exactly this would go.

Edna Gilbert and Edna Bloomberg had been best friends for as long as I could remember. You might assume they were little old widows, but last I’d heard, both of their husbands were still kicking. I honestly wasn’t sure which Edna was which, so I was only thankful that, between the two of them, one name sufficed.

I rallied up a smile in their interested direction. “Yes. Hi, Edna. How are you both?”

“Good, good,” the taller Edna spoke, a smile on her painted red lips as she took in the pair of us. Of the two ladies, her hair was still dark, though I couldn’t be certain it was natural. “Is that a limp, Mr. Walker?”

I inwardly gaped at her audacity, but Tate only smiled and placed his arm around my shoulders before saying, “Got in a little fight on the job a few weeks ago. It’s getting better.”

“So it wasn’t a fight with your girl, then?” She motioned toward me with her head.

Tate grinned, glancing at me. “Nope. This one can’t keep her hands off of me either, but it’s in a much nicer way.” He squeezed me in close and, before I could prepare myself, pressed a light kiss on my cheek. The ladies were delighted.