Run to You (3 page)

Again? No visitors for two months and now two in one day? This wasn't Ethan. The knock was quieter, less insistent. Slowly, she walked to the door and pressed her eye to the peephole.

An older woman stood on the other side. She wore sunglasses, her silver hair styled in a short, spiky 'do. She looked vaguely familiar, but Gabby couldn't quite place her. She pasted on a friendly smile as she turned the lock and swung open the door.

“Hi,” the woman said. “I'm not sure if you remember me. I'm Dixie Hunter. We met at the garden store last month.”

“That's right. Nice to see you again, Dixie.” Gabby stepped back and invited the other woman into her house. Both she and Dixie had been selecting flowers for their yards, and Dixie had struck up a conversation. Gabby had left with a mixed selection for the hanging baskets on her front porch. It was probably silly buying flowers for her rental house, but seeing the pretty blooms outside each morning made this place feel more like home.

“Your flower baskets look great,” Dixie said as she followed Gabby into the living room. Despite her age, she exuded a kind of energy and vitality that left Gabby feeling a bit wilted in her presence.

“Thank you. Is there something I can help you with?” she asked, because she still had no idea why this relative stranger was here in her living room.

“Well, I heard what happened yesterday, and I came to make sure you were okay. It must have been terribly frightening with the wasps attacking you like that.” Dixie shuddered.

“It was pretty bad.” Gabby fought a shudder of her own. “But I'm feeling much better today. How did you hear?” Small towns, man. They boggled her mind.

“A friend of mine saw you at the clinic, and she said my grandson was with you, so I got the scoop from him.” Dixie's eyes twinkled mischievously.

Gabby pressed a hand to her mouth. “You're Ethan's grandmother?”

“I sure am. I brought sandwiches from the deli on the chance you haven't eaten lunch yet.” She held up a white paper bag in her right hand.

“I haven't, and wow, thank you. That was very nice of you.” Gabby motioned toward the little table in the breakfast nook. “Would you like some iced tea?”

“Love some. Thank you.”

Gabby poured two glasses and sat with Dixie at the table.

“I brought two Havenly Ham specials,” Dixie said. “It's got ham, Swiss, lettuce, mustard, and pickles.”

“This is delicious,” Gabby said after she'd taken a bite. She'd mainly eaten at home since she'd arrived in Haven, believing—perhaps mistakenly—that she was keeping herself off the local radar. Apparently she'd been missing out on some seriously good sandwiches.

“Best sandwich in town. Do you like to read? We local ladies have a book club that meets the second Thursday of every month. You should come, get to know people.”

Gabby chewed and swallowed another bite of her Havenly Ham sandwich. “I do like to read. I'll definitely keep that in mind.”

“I'm hosting this month. We're reading
The Girl on the Train
, but it's very casual. Come even if you don't get a chance to read it.”

“I'll check my calendar and let you know.”

“Those flowers are lovely.” Dixie nodded toward the bouquet Ethan had brought over that morning. “Who are they from?” The twinkle in her eye made it clear she had already guessed.

“Ethan brought them. He came by to make sure I was okay, too. I'm afraid I made quite a spectacle of myself yesterday.”

“Nonsense. I'm just glad he was there to help. Did he get a chance to show you the new facility he's building? It's going to be quite the new local hot spot, I imagine.”

Gabby shook her head. And she had no intention of seeing it either. “Ethan and I—we're not—”

“You don't need to explain a thing.” Dixie glanced again at the flowers on the countertop. “My grandson has a bit of a reputation, I'm afraid, but don't let it frighten you off. The girls, they still see him as somewhat of a local celebrity. You're different. I can see that.”

“A local celebrity?” That nagging feeling was back…

Dixie grinned broadly. “Well, he brought home two Olympic gold medals and one silver from Beijing in 2008. Men's fifty-meter freestyle, men's one-hundred-meter breaststroke, and the men's freestyle relay.”

Yeah. I swim
, Ethan had said with humor in his smile.

Gabby's sandwich slipped from her fingers. No wonder his name sounded familiar. An Olympic champion.
Holy shit.
Yeah, she remembered him now. He'd been the hottie all the girls—herself included—were swooning over that summer. “I hadn't made the connection.”

“No reason for you to. He's a good boy, my Ethan. I'll get going now because I'm sure you need to get back to work. So I'll see you next week at book club?”

Gabby stood. “I'll think about it.”

“I'll leave you my number.” Dixie pulled a piece of paper from her purse and wrote her number on it. “Great seeing you today, Gabby.”

“Thank you so much for stopping by, and for bringing lunch. I owe you one.” She walked with Dixie to the front door.

“No you don't. But I'd be happy to lunch with you again anytime. Just give me a ring.” With a wave, she was gone.

Gabby stared after her from the front window, watching as she got into her SUV and drove away. What a cool lady. Despite dropping by unannounced—something Gabby would have normally said she didn't appreciate—she liked Dixie a lot. Maybe she'd go to her book club. Maybe it was time to get out of the house and meet some people in town.

She ran her hands up and down her arms. She'd gotten awfully comfortable living like a hermit, but this wasn't her usual style. With a sigh, she walked back to the kitchen, pausing to press her nose into the flowers Ethan had brought her. Nice. The flowers, the man, and his grandmother.

But she wasn't here to make connections. She was just here to heal.

Still, the house seemed to echo with emptiness after having had visitors. The afternoon dragged on as she worked out the final bugs in her code and put it through a series of tests.

The house was definitely too quiet. And she knew the perfect way to fix it. After she'd shut down her computer for the day, she headed straight for the car. There was just an hour left before the Pearcy County Animal Shelter closed for the day.

She tapped the address into her phone, and the automated voice of her GPS app guided her through downtown Haven and out onto the winding mountain roads beyond. God, she lived so far out in the middle of nowhere! Such a far cry from the hustle and bustle of Charlotte.

After ten minutes on a winding road leading down the mountain, she came to a lonely traffic light, then a handful of stores, and finally the animal shelter. It was a nondescript white building with several fenced dog pens jutting from its sides.

She walked inside, greeted by a boy with short-cropped black hair who didn't look a day over eighteen.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

She nodded, her stomach tingling with either excitement or dread, she wasn't quite sure which. “I'd like to adopt a pet.”

The kid behind the desk perked up. “Great! Dog or cat?”

“A dog, I think. A small one. Maybe someone who's been here awhile.”

“Oh, we have plenty of those.” He stood and extended a hand. “I'm Logan.”

She shook it. “Gabby.”

“Nice to meet you, Gabby.” He led her down a hall behind the reception desk and into a bright room lined with dog runs on either side, fronted with something similar to a chain-link fence. Behind each one, a homeless dog waited.

A large dog that more closely resembled a bear barked at her, lunging forward against the gate. She took an involuntary step back. “Definitely smaller. Maybe even a cat.”

Logan showed her a beagle named Lucy, a terrier mix named Tootsie, and a Pomeranian named Leo (probably because he looked like a baby lion). In the next kennel stood a tiny brown dog with enormous ears. He took one look at her and ran to cower in the back corner of his kennel.

“This is Sir Lancelot. He's a Chihuahua mix. He's been here almost six months.”

Gabby stared at the little dog. “Sir Lancelot, you do not look like anyone's knight in shining armor.”

“He might not be a fighter, but he'd make a great companion,” Logan said.

And right now, that sounded exactly like her idea of a knight in shining armor.

E
than's fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly they were starting to go numb.

“Honey, calm down. It's going to be okay,” Dixie said from the passenger seat. She reached out and touched his arm. “Thank you for insisting I get a second opinion and for coming with me. But we both knew it most likely wasn't going to be good news.”

It was not going to be okay. His grandmother, his only real family, was dying. And it was not fucking okay. “There has to be something they can do, Gram. We'll get another opinion. We'll find someone who'll operate.”

She made a tsking sound. “Well, I'd rather not have my brain cut open anyhow. But Dr. Haskell is one of the best in the country, and if he says my aneurysm is inoperable, I believe him.”

Ethan had brought her to see a specialist today hoping for a miracle. Instead, this morning's MRI showed that the aneurysm had grown since her first scan. It was so large now that Dr. Haskell felt certain Gram didn't have much time left. It was rare that they'd even found it before it burst, but she'd started having terrible headaches and gone to have them checked out. Now they were stuck in some kind of hellish limbo waiting for her to die.

Ethan slammed his fist against the steering wheel. “There has to be a doctor out there who can do something.”

“Nonsense. Honestly, I feel blessed to have found out about it ahead of time. Now I can live these next weeks knowing they're my last and make sure I don't put off anything I've been meaning to do. I'm an old lady now, Ethan. It's my time.”

“You are not that old,” he said through gritted teeth. Seventy was not old enough to die. Not his Gram.

“Maybe not, but I've lived a full life.”

“You lost your only child when she was twenty-nine years old, and then you gave up your dreams and your freedom to raise me. You deserve better than this, Gram.” He glanced over and saw the grim set of her mouth. He rarely mentioned his mother. Losing her had been bad enough for him, but surely it had been even worse for his grandmother.

“Raising you was an honor, Ethan. I wouldn't have traded it for anything. Life is too short for regrets. We make the best out of the cards we're dealt, and that's all we can do.”

“And sometimes that's not good enough.”

“No, it's not, but it's out of our hands. I can think of a lot worse ways to go. I feel great, except for the headaches now and then, and that shouldn't change. If I'm lucky, I'll pass in my sleep and never feel a thing. Stop strangling the steering wheel.”

If he could have, he'd have ripped the damn thing right out of the Jeep and smashed something with it. He couldn't lose Gram. Couldn't speak over the painful clog in his throat.

“You'll get through this.” Her voice had gone soft.

He turned off Highway 321, beginning their ascent into the Pisgah National Forest. The Smoky Mountains smudged the horizon ahead of them, dark and hazy like the emotions flooding his brain.

“I made a bucket list,” she said, her voice stronger again now. “There are only a few things on it. I want to try out your new zip-line course.”

He shook his head with a bitter laugh. “You got it.”

“I'm so happy Mark and Ryan are coming back to town. It'll be great to see the three of you guys working together.”

They fell silent for a few minutes. He couldn't wrap his brain around the things he'd heard from Dr. Haskell that morning. He and Gram had so much to talk about when they got home. So many decisions needed to be made, decisions he did not want to think about.

“I invited Gabby to book club,” Gram said.

“What?”

“I really like her. Those flowers you gave her were lovely. You're a catch.” She winked at him.

Did Gram think he and Gabby were a thing? He was considering asking her out, but they were far from an item. Before he could answer, his cell phone rang. He reached for it and saw Ryan's name on the screen. “Hey,” he answered.

“Yo, I just got a call from Deputy Ziegler. They finally tracked down our bleeder.”

“Yeah?” Ethan straightened in his seat.

“Kid was treated at the ER for a broken leg and a scalp laceration. Said he fell out of a tree,” Ryan said.

“A fu—” He glanced at Gram. “A friggin' tall tree. He's lucky that's all he broke.”

“Tell me about it. Anyway, he eventually admitted he was out at our place with four of his friends, drinking and joy-riding on the zip-line.”

Shit.
What a nightmare.

“And I didn't call you earlier,” Ryan continued, “because you were with Gram at her appointment, but I got a call this morning from someone on the Haven Town Council. She said they have some concerns about Off-the-Grid.”

“What the hell?”

“I'm guessing they heard about what happened on our property the other night. She's going to stop by around two to discuss it with us. What time will you be here?”

“I could be there by two if I drive straight to the office.”

“All right then. Just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

“Thanks.” Ethan disconnected with a frown.

“Everything okay?” Gram asked.

He told her what they'd just learned. “And now someone from the Town Council is coming over to discuss their concerns with us.”

His grandmother scoffed. “That must be Lorraine. She always has had a stick up her ass.”

He rubbed a hand over his mouth to cover a smile. He knew Lorraine Hanaford, and Gram was right on the money. “You mind if we stop by the office first so I can take care of this? Shouldn't take long, then I'll drive you home.”

“Take all the time you need.”

Forty-five minutes later, he pulled into the driveway. A blue sedan followed him in and parked beside his Jeep. He stood and watched as a short brunette got out of the sedan, her hair teased and sprayed like she had stepped right out of the eighties. She extended a hand. “Ethan, it's good to see you again.”

He took it and shook. “You, too, Lorraine.”

Lorraine looked anything but pleased to see him, which was nothing new. She'd never been a fan of his. Might've had something to do with the time he'd gotten into a fistfight with her son Devon back in high school.

“I spoke with your business partner, Ryan, this morning,” she said.

“That's right.”

Dixie came around the Jeep with an overly cheerful smile. “Lorraine, how are you?”

Lorraine's eyebrows rose. “I'm well, thank you. And you?”

His grandmother's smile faltered, and Ethan felt like someone had just socked him in the solar plexus. “No complaints.”

“Let's step inside,” Ethan said. “Ryan's waiting in the office.”

“Certainly. I'll only take a few minutes of your time.”

He led the way into the little house he'd once called home. Construction had begun this week to convert it into Off-the-Grid Adventures' headquarters. The living room would become the lobby and waiting area, and the three small bedrooms would be offices for him, Ryan, and Mark. Since their new furniture hadn't arrived yet, today they'd have to make do hosting Lorraine on the battered leather couch and arm chair in the living room.

“I'm going to fix myself a cup of tea,” his grandmother said and headed in the direction of the kitchen.

Ryan walked out of the back bedroom, his future office, and introduced himself. “How can we help you, Ms. Hanaford?”

She perched on one end of the couch and folded her hands over her knees. “Well, as I'm sure you're aware, Haven is known as one of North Carolina's premier relaxation destinations. Our natural hot springs and the spa draw a lot of tourists.”

“We know,” Ethan confirmed.

Ryan sat in the chair by the window. “I'm a big fan of the hot springs.”

“To be frank, we already had some concerns about the type of clientele your new business might attract.” Lorraine looked between them, her hands still clasped over her knees. “But after hearing what happened on your property the other night, we're quite worried.”

“I understand,” Ryan said. “We're concerned as well. Ethan and I have already spoken about putting stricter safety precautions in place to secure the property at night.”

“I should hope so,” Lorraine said.

“It won't happen again,” Ryan assured her.

She tilted her head. “Even so, Haven is known as a place where people come to relax, unwind, and leave their troubles behind. Your new business doesn't exactly fit that mold.”

Ryan leaned forward. “On the contrary, I think a lot of folks might say that they find zip-lining and other outdoor adventures relaxing as well.”

Lorraine made a face like she'd just stepped in dog shit. “Well, I think most people find those activities to be frightening, dangerous even. And if the teenagers the other night are any indication, the type of people interested in your new venture are not the type of visitors we're trying to bring to Haven. In fact, we were hoping you might reconsider the nature or the location of your business in the best interest of the town.”

“In the interest of the town?” Ethan fumed. “I think anything that brings money and business into the town would be in its best interest, don't you?”

Lorraine looked down her nose at him. “Not at the expense of the town's image and other businesses, no.”

“I fail to see how Off-the-Grid is going to have a negative effect on other businesses in town—”

Ryan put out a hand, silencing him. “Ms. Hanaford, how can we put your fears at ease?”

She sat up straighter. “Well, I suppose we'd like you to attend the next Town Council meeting and hear from the other concerned members of the council. We're going to need some reassurances before we can approve your rezoning application.”

Ethan opened his mouth to let her know exactly where she and the rest of the Town Council members could shove it, but Ryan silenced him with a stony look.

“We'd be happy to attend the meeting. When is it?” Ryan asked.

Lorraine turned to Ryan with a pinched smile. “Next Friday the nineteenth at ten o'clock.”

Ryan tapped the information into his phone and smiled. “We'll be there, and by next Friday, our third partner, Mark Dalton, should have arrived in town as well. I'm certain we'll be able to set your minds at ease.”

Lorraine made a rude sound under her breath at the mention of Mark's name, and Ethan's fingers curled. Yeah, once upon a time they'd all been a bunch of teenaged hooligans, but they'd grown out of it—mostly, and Mark most of all. He was a decorated war veteran now, and he deserved better than to be judged by Lorraine Hanaford because he stole a pack of cigarettes from the convenience store when he was fifteen.

This was bullshit. They had to get Off-the-Grid up and running while Gram was here to see it. To hell with the Town Council and their stupid concerns.

“We look forward to seeing you there.” Lorraine's smile more closely resembled a snarl. She stood, and Ryan showed her to the front door.

Thank God Ryan had agreed to come on board as Off-the-Grid's business manager because he was clearly better at this crap than Ethan was. All he wanted to do right now was punch a fist through the wall. A better idea would be to go out back to the pool, put on his trunks, and swim laps until the fire in his veins had been doused.

“You need to learn a thing or two about public relations.” Ryan gave him a pointed look as he came back into the room. Ironic that Ryan, the hulking man with the motorcycle parked out front and tats up and down his arms, was the cool-headed peacekeeper of their group.

Ethan was known for his charm with the ladies, but his temper had always been on a short fuse. He blamed it on bad genes. “That's what I have you for. And Lorraine has always had a stick up her ass. Gram said so.”

On cue, Dixie strolled in from the kitchen, a cup of tea in her right hand. “It's true. We were all so relieved when she quit coming to book club.”

Ryan glanced between them. “Stick up her ass or not, she can make our lives a lot more difficult if she refuses to give us the zoning we need, so everyone needs to play nice.”

Gram smiled sweetly. “I'm always nice.”

Ryan patted her shoulder. “The best.”

Ethan grunted. “I'll try.”

“If you ask me, Lorraine is just jealous of Ethan's success,” Gram said. “He was the one always playing pranks on the teachers in high school, and her Devon was supposed to go places. Now, Ethan's an Olympic champion with an exciting new business, and Devon is just a boring old accountant.”

Ethan rubbed his neck. “I don't know about that.”

“Well, it wouldn't hurt to butter her up in the meantime anyway,” Gram said.

“No, it wouldn't,” he agreed.

“On that note, I'm out.” Ryan leaned in to plant a kiss on Dixie's cheek. “Always lovely to see you, Gram.”

“You, too, sweetie.” At one time or another, his grandmother had looked out for all three of them.

Ryan waved over his shoulder as he left.

“I'm just going to freshen up before you take me home.” Dixie headed down the hall in the direction of the half-bath.

Ethan watched her go. Dr. Haskell had said she shouldn't drive herself any longer, in case the aneurysm burst while she was behind the wheel. He didn't like the idea of her living alone either, but hadn't broached the topic yet. For now, losing the ability to drive was a big enough setback. But she shouldn't be alone. She shouldn't die alone.

He raked a hand through his hair.
Shit.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Gabby Winters stood on the other side.

Gabby was still fighting the urge to bolt even after she'd knocked. But she needed to return Ethan's T-shirt, and his Jeep was parked out front so she'd decided there was no time like the present. She would drop off the shirt, then be on her way to the animal shelter to pick up Sir Lancelot.