Page 13 of Never Fall Again
“What aren’t you telling me?” Cal asked.
“If you were a civilian, I wouldn’t be telling you anything.” Gray frowned.
“Then I guess it’s lucky for both of us that you had the good sense to hire both me and Mo as consultants.”
“I’m not sure your consulting role applies here.”
“As the consultant, I think I should be the judge of that.”
Gray studied him for a long moment. “There was a note.”
Landry took ten steps away. With every step, she fought the compulsion to go back and apologize. Maybe she could have beennicer, but these people were coming close to killing her spirit with kindness. She’d been on her own for three years. Emotionally on her own for three years prior to that.
She didn’t lean on people. She didn’t take handouts. She didn’t need anyone.
Needing people was dangerous.
The wind shifted, and the smoke from the fire wafted over them. She coughed. Then coughed again. If the smoke was making her cough, what would it do to Eliza?
Bronwyn approached but didn’t speak. She didn’t even make eye contact.
“Beep?”
That earned Landry an exasperated grin. “Don’t start.”
“Sorry about before. I think I can be rational now.”
“No apologies needed. We weren’t trying to be unkind, but we were. You aren’t a child. And your child is your responsibility, not ours.”
“I know you mean well.” Landry waved a hand toward the burning embers of the boutique. “And Eliza can’t stay here. But crashing at a stranger’s house? It’s a lovely offer, but I’d prefer to grab a room at the inn in town.”
Bronwyn shoved her hands in her pockets. “About that.”
“Don’t tell me there’s no room at the inn.” Landry wasn’t serious, but when Bronwyn grimaced, she understood. “You moved some of the guests there?”
Bronwyn threw her hand toward the smoldering heap. “I didn’t have a choice. A few guests packed their things and drove to Asheville. One had her driver take her to Charlotte.” That the idea of a guest having a driver didn’t faze her was a testament to how long Landry had worked at The Haven. “But a few of them hope to salvage their stay. They asked if there was anywhere local, no matter how primitive”—Bronwyn put airquotes around the wordprimitive—“where they could stay for tonight. Melissa had three rooms, and the only reason she had them was because a wedding party cancelled when the groom called off the wedding this morning. She even let me have the locals-only room.”
Melissa Wright owned the town’s only inn that normal people could afford. It was an open secret that even when the inn showed “no vacancy” on the website, a small room on the backside of the house was usually available. Melissa had an understanding with the police and church leaders that if a vulnerable person needed somewhere to sleep, she had a place for them.
Landry pressed her palms to her temples. “Bronwyn.” She tried not to whine. She was unsuccessful. “There are no words for me to tell you how uncomfortable this makes me.”
Bronwyn put an arm around Landry’s waist. “I know, sweetie. I would come stay with you if I didn’t need to be on-site. And it pains me to say this, because I love my family, but I wouldn’t be comfortable sending you and Eliza to any of their houses.”
Landry rested her head against Bronwyn’s. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I think I’d rather go to Meredith’s than your parents’.”
“I wouldn’t let you go to my parents’. Talk about a disaster. My family built The Haven on principles of Southern hospitality. Sadly, while we do well with total strangers, we aren’t famous for open doors with anyone else.” She stepped away and pointed to where Cal and Gray stood talking. “But this is how the Quinns and Shaws operate. Over-the-top generosity and in-your-face hospitality are ingrained. I think it comes from Granny Quinn. If you ever get invited to a family dinner, youhaveto go. There will be sixty people there, and at least fifteen of them will have been brought by a Quinn who thought they shouldn’t be alone.”
Landry couldn’t quite picture it. It wasn’t that she didn’t believeBronwyn, but nothing in her life gave her any frame of reference for a family that operated that way.
“Trust me, if Meredith wasn’t out of her house already, she’d move out for you. In fact, she’ll probably rush home, change her sheets, and leave you a plate of brownies.” Bronwyn reached for her phone and looked at the display. “Speak of the devil.” She answered the phone with a quick “Meredith! Were your ears burning?”
A pause. A nod. “You’re the best.” Then a frown. “I’ll let Cal handle—” Her lips pinched together. “Not now, Mer. Please. I can’t—” Another pause during which Bronwyn’s eyes remained closed. A long sigh. Then, “Thank you. Don’t go home and change the sheets. Landry can—”
Bronwyn mouthed “told you” to Landry. “Fine. Okay. You’re the best. Love you too.”
With that, she slid her phone into her pocket. “All taken care of. She had run home to grab something, so she was there when Cal texted her. She’s leaving clean sheets on the beds and food in the fridge.”
“How could she possibly be leaving food? She found out a minute ago.”