Chapter 5

FIVE

“YOU HAVE NO IDEA who it might be?”

It wasn’t like she hadn’t asked herself the same question dozens of times since the calls started, but it was the very last thing she had wanted to focus on tonight while they were celebrating Nash.

Lahela’s gaze moved to Briggs’s headlights in her rearview mirror. It was hard not to let the guilt ripple through her, but at least her house wasn’t far away so Briggs could do his good deed and then be on his way back home.

Any hope she had that Briggs would ask her out disappeared the second she saw his frustrated concern at her decision not to report this latest incident to the police. But he wasn’t there the last time she went in and made a report, only to be told they couldn’t do anything without a list of people to investigate. When the calls started four months ago, she’d only been living here six months and honestly had no idea who would do this. The police officer was kind and patient, but Lahela couldn’t help feeling like she was wasting their time.

Lahela pulled into her driveway and grabbed her purse. Briggs was already parking his truck when she got out of the car and started across her yard to let him know he was fine to go on home. Then her attention snagged on something on her front porch.

Redirecting her steps, she hurried toward her home, not believing what she saw.

“Do you like ’em?”

Lahela turned on her heel to see her neighbor Mr. Dunn coming up her walkway. “Did you do this?”

“I heard you mention to Rosemary you thought this porch was perfect for a swing.” He stuffed his hands into his jeans, looking bashful. “’Fraid I’m a bit too old to manage a porch swing, but I saw these at the feed store. All they needed was a good stain and some polish. Figured an old man could do that for his neighbor.”

Rocking chairs. Lahela climbed the steps, remembering her conversation with her next-door neighbor. She ran her fingers along the curve of one of the chairs and set it to a gentle rock. “They’re beautiful, Mr. Dunn.”

“Well, now I’d thought this would at least get you to start calling me Jesse.” He joined her on the porch and pulled a rag from his pocket. He ran it over a spot. “I put the last coat of polyurethane on this morning, but that smell should go away soon and be ready to enjoy tomorrow or the next day.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

Lahela had fallen in love with this cottage home the second she drove up the tree-lined street and saw the wide porch. It had been listed as rent-to-own, and she thought it would be the perfect starter home—all it needed was a porch swing and a family.

A pinch of melancholy threatened to steal this moment, but Lahela wouldn’t allow it. It didn’t matter whether it was a porch swing or beautiful rockers, the thoughtful gift from her elderly neighbor reminded her that she did have family here.

Briggs stepped next to him and shook his hand. “This was thoughtful of you, Mr. Dunn.”

“Thank you.” Mr. Dunn pushed the rag back into his pocket and swiped a hand through the halo of wispy, white hair. “Well, I guess I better let you young’uns get back to your night.” He eyed Briggs, and a paternal look took over that Lahela thought was cute. “If you need anything, I’m just across the street.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Dunn. These are beautiful and I can’t wait to invite you over to sit in them with me and tell me more stories about your wife, Janine.”

“I’d enjoy that.”

Lahela watched Mr. Dunn cross the street and enter his house before she gaped at Briggs. “Can you believe this?”

“They’re nice.”

There was something off in Briggs’s tone, and when she looked back at him, her happy moment faded. If she had hoped Briggs would let her come home and forget about the earlier incident with the calls and texts, the steely look he was giving her now said she was in for another lecture.

“Briggs...”

“Lahela.”

Why did he have to say her name like that? Low and broody. It made her want to change her mind and invite him in, but it was highly unlikely their conversation would go where her heart wanted it to.

“Thanks for escorting me home.” Her attention slid to his hand and the memory of his fingers brushing her cheek. Be strong, Lahela . She used her house key to unlock the door and flipped on the inside lights. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the festival.”

A few seconds passed where only the sound of crickets filled the air. Enough time for her to search his face and see the genuine concern drawing his brows low over his hazel eyes that leaned greener when he was upset. Like they were now.

“I’ll be fine, Briggs.” She smiled at him. “I’ve got great neighbors who are always looking out for me.”

Briggs’s frown deepened, and he looked up and down the quiet neighborhood. “Aren’t most of them in their sixties and seventies?”

Her laugh cut through the night, and she covered her mouth. The corner of Briggs’s lip lifted, and it made her happy to return to the easy banter they shared.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Which makes them bored and the first to call the police if anything is amiss. Just ask Mr. Dunn. Rosemary called the police because she thought he was watering on the wrong day of the week.”

Briggs’s face split into a grin, and it was the best thing Lahela had seen all night. “Fine. I’ll trust the senior citizen brigade for now, but promise me you’ll call the police yourself ... for any reason.”

Lahela nodded, surprised at the emotion swelling in her throat. With a wave, she closed the door, bolted it, and then watched Briggs drive away before closing her blinds. She’d always felt safe in her home, but tonight ... tonight she turned on all the lights and left the television on all night.

SATURDAY MORNING, Lahela woke up with a new focus—and it wasn’t going to be on harassing phone calls or texts. Thankfully, her phone remained silent.

Crossing the street, she carried the tray of homemade pumpkin muffins she made for Mr. Dunn to thank him for the beautiful rocking chairs. Waiting for them to bake, she’d dressed up her porch with a wicker table from her back patio and a fake fern because she still hadn’t figured out how to keep outdoor plants alive in the Texas heat. She was already imagining nights spent here with the soft glow from the lights strung on the railing. Maybe with Briggs.

“Good morning.”

She found Mr. Dunn wiping a soapy sponge over the hood of his wife’s car just like he did every Saturday. He looked up, his eyes brightening with his smile. “Good morning, Lahela. You’re up early this morning.”

“I made you these.” She lifted the tray. “To thank you for the beautiful rockers.”

“You didn’t need to do that.” He dropped his sponge into a bucket and wiped his hands on a towel. “Those look delicious.”

“I hope you enjoy them.”

He grabbed one and bit into it. “Just like my Janine used to make.”

Lahela’s heart ached for her neighbor. Janine had died almost thirty years ago and yet he’d kept remnants of her around, like her dark-green Volvo, caring for it and protecting it like she was still around to drive it. It was both sweet and sad. And sometimes brought up the painful memories of losing her brother Ikaia.

A cool breeze drifted through the trees and she shivered. This was not where she wanted her thoughts to go on such a beautiful day. After praying last night and again this morning, she was leaning into the truth that God made all things new—including her hope that there was nothing behind the calls.

“Was that your fella?”

Lahela shielded her eyes against the sun. “My fella?”

“Last night.”

Oh . Briggs . “We’re friends.”

“I remember when I was sweet on my Janine. Never could get enough of her, and when we were apart, she’s all I thought about.” His gaze turned teary, but he offered a smile.

Lahela thought about Briggs. Her cheeks bloomed with a heat that had nothing to do with the above-average temps.

Her cell phone rang and a chill sliced through her. I’m not going to be afraid of answering my phone . But her words held no sway over the twisting in her stomach. She turned from Mr. Dunn, pulled her phone from her pocket, and nearly cried out in relief when she saw that it was Daphne.

She took a step to the side and answered. “Hello.”

“Hey—what’s wrong? You sound funny.”

“That’s the sound of relief.” The back of her eyes burned. Would she ever be able to hear her phone ring without fear pulsing through her?

“You haven’t had more calls, have you?”

Lahela inhaled deeply to settle her nerves. “No, thank goodness.”

“Good. So, the reason I’m calling...” Daphne’s voice did that thing where it went high because she was about to say something unlikable, but it was usually reserved for Nash. “I can’t come pick you up.”

“Oh ... Okay.”

“But. ..” Daphne’s tone changed. “Briggs is coming to get you.”

“What?” Her raised response pulled Mr. Dunn’s gaze to her, and she offered him a smile. “Daph, what did you do?”

“Nothing,” she said on a laugh. “Something came up and I’m not going to be able to join you today. That’s all.”

That didn’t feel like that’s all , and a flight of nervous energy moved through her. Briggs was taking her to the flamingo festival and Daphne wasn’t going to be there. Wait . “Is Nash meeting us there?”

“Uh, no ... I think he had something come up too.”

“Daph—”

“So, are you dressed and ready?”

Lahela looked down at the jeans and pink sweater she’d chosen for today. With the sun bearing down, she was already wondering if she’d need to change her top. Fall weather in Texas was as unpredictable as second-grade show-and-tell.

“I hope it’s something cute because Briggs is already on his way.”

“Wha—”

But her question was left unfinished when she spotted the familiar truck coming up the street. A breeze swept through the cottonwoods, sending a fresh batch of leaves swirling through the sky just like the emotion in her chest.

“Have fun and know that I’ll be calling you bright and early tomorrow for all of the details.”

Lahela might’ve said something else to Daphne, or maybe it was just incomprehensible noise coming from her lips. It didn’t matter because suddenly all she could focus on was Briggs walking over to greet her, in a Stetson.