“Never. Did you think tricking me would help your case, Ms. Ashton? Really I can’t say I’m surprised, after the way you hounded me the whole way here.” He threw his napkin on the table, his face still red. “Get. Out. Of Hemlock Veils. Tonight, when I return, if there’s any sign of you here, I’ll take the necessary steps to rid this town of you myself.”
“Mr. Clayton,” Regina reprimanded in a stunned breath. Rather than scare her, at that second he repulsed her. “You have no right—”
The way his eyes shot from Elizabeth’s to her own cut her off short. “It’s my town, Mrs. Washington. I have every right to refuse whomever I want. I will not be lied to, not here. No matter how good the coffee is. Take this as your warning: if you ever attempt anything so scheming again, I will fire you. And I really don’t want to do that.” He paused. “Is that clear?”
“Yes,” was all she could say, with a hint of enmity. She lifted her chin. She and Mr. Clayton had never been enemies before, but it seemed like a good time to start.
Elizabeth’s brow knitted when he looked at her. He shook his head with a disappointment Regina used to see on Nathaniel when he punished their son, many years ago and in a past Regina tried not to dwell on often. “Look what you’ve stirred here, Ms. Ashton.” He appeared offended, like Elizabeth had insulted him in the worst way, which made no sense at all.
“I’m…sorry, Mr. Clayton,” Elizabeth said in a voice that seemed too small for who she was. “Really. I didn’t mean for any of this. Regina was just trying to help.”
“And all it’s done is hurt.”
Elizabeth blinked, folding her arms over herself. Clearly, she bit her tongue. “I understand. And I will be gone before you come home this evening.”
He stared only briefly before nodding, but in the split second he had, he seemed to be second-guessing his decision. Before he could give himself the chance to, though—if that’s even what he’d been doing—he left the glass door swinging behind him, the bell ringing angrily in protest.
Elizabeth unfolded her arms, slumping, and her eyes glazed over as she watched Mr. Clayton approach a waiting Arne Randolph across the street. Regina wondered what Mr. Clayton thought Elizabeth had “stirred.” Chaos? Change? Or was it simply the hope inside the residents that Mr. Clayton could in fact be stood up to? Because that hope sure stirred inside Regina’s chest. It was liberating and fiery all at the same time. And if that’s what left Mr. Clayton uneasy, he had every right to be. Regina wouldn’t fear him anymore, and it wouldn’t be long before others would follow the same example.
Elizabeth would be missed, and Regina nearly cried at the simple thought of her leaving, but there was one thing for sure: her imprint would forever be left on Hemlock Veils. This town, and Regina alike, would never be the same.
Chapter 11
Elizabeth exited her motel room with a heaviness that left her lethargic. At her car, she popped the trunk and lifted her suitcase, letting it fall on top of her other belongings with a thud as heavy as she felt. It was already late in the afternoon. She would have left that morning, right after the incident at the diner, but for some reason, Regina had insisted she wait, perhaps to prolong the goodbyes. Besides, Regina had said, Mr. Clayton never came home before evening. But Elizabeth couldn’t wait any longer. The longer she stayed, the harder it would be to leave.
Moreover—and though she would never admit it aloud—Mr. Clayton had gotten the best of her, fear and all. And the very last place she wanted to be was here at the moment his car drove back through town.
It’d been worth a shot, she thought to herself as she left her car in the parking lot and began walking down Red Cedar Loop toward the diner, where she’d say her final goodbyes. She’d known in the beginning, when the idea of staying seemed perfect, it was too good to be true. She had kept a realistic perspective that said she had nothing to lose, yet she had lost everything. Everything she never had to begin with.
Alas, the threatening wind had won.
She paused at the widest cedar on the street, its trunk dusted in the green moss that gave this forest its character. She touched it, moist and soft, and something rough lied beneath it. She looked closer, charmed by the markings. Once upon a time—from the looks of it, centuries ago—this tree had been the contract of lovers: a rough A followed by an even rougher heart and an H. A & H.
Reluctantly, she left the inscription alone, the way the moss wanted, and on her way to the diner, she allowed her eyes to sweep the forest one last time. Just as she was about to push herself through the glass door, she caught the reflection of the Maybach in the window, driving behind her like a cloud of shiny midnight blue and silver. Everything inside her froze. Behind its reflection was Regina inside the diner, staring just as wide-eyed as Elizabeth.
Regina came out, pulling her inside. “Maybe he didn’t see you,” she said.
But he had, because the car stopped at the curb not even a block down the road.
“He never comes back this soon,” Regina added.
Elizabeth sat on a stool, the scenery around her blurring into one large wash of color. Really, what could he do to run her out of town, other than verbally attack her? He couldn’t put her in jail for staying a few hours longer than he’d told her to. And she doubted his verbal assaults could get worse than they’d already been.
The door opened behind her, bells announcing her doom, and when she turned she relaxed, her vision becoming crisp again. Arne smiled from ear to ear. “Ms. Ashton,” he said.
She stood and he remained at the door. “I’m sorry, Arne. Please tell him that. I was just saying goodbye; I didn’t think he’d be back yet.”
He waved a hand impatiently. “Never mind that. I’m here to bring you a message.”
“A message?” She swallowed.
“They’re yours, Ms. Ashton.” His smile widened, if that was even possible.
“They?”
“The house, the bakery: they’re yours.”
Her heart literally skipped a beat, and Nicole and Regina gasped. She blinked, since it would surely clear reality. “I don’t understand.”
“Let’s just say Mr. Clayton had a change of heart. You are to meet him at Jean’s Bakery tomorrow morning at seven a.m. sharp, where a deal will be made. It’ll be your one and only shot, so make sure you’re there. He doesn’t like to wait.”
“Yes.” She nodded, tripping over words. “Yes, of course. I’ll be there.”
He softened his voice. “I’m so glad to hear it, Elizabeth. Just remember what I said the first time we met. Don’t let anyone who’s opposed to your being here bring you down. I meant that about Mr. Clayton especially. I’d hate to see him break your spirits.”
“Arne,” she said before he turned. “Thank you.”
“I’ll tell him you said that.”
“No, I mean, thank you. Do tell Mr. Clayton of my appreciation, but…you must have had something to do with this.”
He shrugged cryptically. “It wasn’t me who changed his mind. Nor was it your coffee he will be talking about for years to come.”
“Then what was it?”
“You, Elizabeth.” He paused, allowing her to absorb it. She couldn’t. “Don’t be mistaken; the coffee certainly helped. But believe it or not, Mr. Clayton understands a thing or two about second chances.”
After a wink, he left Elizabeth staring at that strand of dangling bells on the door’s handle, more excited than she’d been in her adult life.
***
During Elizabeth’s walk from Regina’s house to her motel room, a mysterious haze of clouds—nothing but a sheer gossamer curtain—veiled the moon, full and luminous. It made her feel less alone in the town she could now call her own. Regina had escaped the diner earlier than usual that night, leaving Nicole to close. Normally Elizabeth didn’t think Nicole would mind, but the fact that Regina left because of Elizabeth made that sour look appear on Nicole’s face.