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  As she drank her coffee, Brynn slowly awakened even more.

  “You must have been exhausted,” Becky said. “The trip was too much for you.”

  Brynn nodded. “I feel like an old lady.”

  “You have a concussion. It’s nothing to mess around with.”

  “I hear ya. And so does my body.” She slumped over the table and stared into her coffee as if it held answers to all the questions in the universe.

  “Can I get you something? Eggs? Toast?” Becky asked.

  “Toast only. I don’t think I could eat anything else this morning.”

  Becky walked over to the counter and sliced bread. “Wes and his dad were here earlier.”

  “Good news?” Brynn’s heart jumped at the thought of it.

  “No news.” She slid the bread into the toaster and pushed down. “None.”

  “Where is Wes?”

  “He’s cleaning the barn and milking parlor with Max and Nathaniel. Isn’t that nice? I promised them a good lunch.”

  “I’m sure you can manage. I’ll help.”

  “No, you won’t,” she said with a scolding tone. “I’ve already got soup on and I’m going to make cheese sandwiches. It will be easy and fine.”

  Brynn’s thoughts turned to Chelsea. “Do you think Chelsea will stop by or e-mail or anything?”

  “I’ve been considering that.” The toast popped up, and she spread thick salted butter on each slice. “I think you appealed to her ego. For a sixteen-year-old, I think it’s heady stuff. But I got this weird vibe from her parents.”

  “I did, too. There’s more going on there than what we know, of course.” The smell of hot buttered toast filled the room.

  “I agree. I’ve been trying to imagine how I’d deal with this as a parent. I mean, thank goodness Lily isn’t into the beauty pageants and stuff. I don’t think I could handle it. I’d always be suspicious of the surrounding people.” She shrugged. “I already am, I suppose. But that seems like you’re really tempting the hand of fate by putting your kid in the spotlight.” She put a plate of toast in front of Brynn.

  “I totally get that. But Chelsea is sixteen. Her personality is such that . . . well . . . homecoming queen, lots of boyfriends. Maybe her parents are trying different tactics with her now. But of course they’d be concerned. I’m talking about using their daughter’s face on my products.”

  “I don’t think I’d go for it. Even at the age of sixteen, I wouldn’t like it. If Lily is a clear-thinking, level-headed kid, I’d probably leave it up to her.”

  That surprised Brynn. “Really?”

  “Sure. I’m hoping we’d discuss it together of course, go over the pros and cons, and then she’d decide.”

  Brynn bit into her toast and her mouth exploded with butter flavor.

  “I’ve been watching Wes with his dad. It seems like they have a good relationship, though Wes hasn’t exactly done what Nathaniel expected of him. He’s given him a lot of leeway.”

  “I’m afraid he’s going to want Wes to go home with him and I can’t blame him.”

  What would she do without Wes? He’d inserted himself into the running of Buttermilk Creek Farms. He managed the computers and ran the website and the website orders, along with crafting excellent cheese. Besides all that, he was excellent company for her.

  But she realized someday he would leave. He had to. He was young and would take everything he learned from her and move on to the next step in his life. She was mentally prepared for it to happen. Someday. Just not so soon.

  * * *

  Several hours later, Brynn’s doorbell rang. She was sitting in the living room, trying not to nod off. No screen time. No TV. No reading. How did people live like this?

  Becky’s voice rang from the kitchen. “I’ll get it.”

  Brynn listened to the commotion at the door, figuring it was the mail- or UPS man. When Becky brought Chelsea into the room, Brynn perked right up. “Chelsea! Thanks for coming.”

  “I’m really eager to hear about your plans,” she said with a sweet smile.

  Plans? Oh boy, Brynn hadn’t thought this through. She shot Becky a look of panic and then recovered herself.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Becky said. “I made lemonade.”

  “Sounds great,” Chelsea said.

  “Have a seat,” Brynn said. “I’m not normally this lazy, but I’m recovering from a concussion.”

  Chelsea sat down on the chair next to the couch. “I heard something about it. I hope you feel better real soon.”

  “Thank you.”

  They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes.

  Becky entered the room with the lemonade and put the cool glasses down on the table. Brynn reached for hers and took a long drink. Her taste buds popped from the flavor. Becky had added lime to the drink, and the result was delicious. “So, to tell you the truth, Chelsea, this is an evolving concept.”

  “I see,” she said, disappointment playing over her face.

  “But I was thinking about things like our cheese contest that we held at the fair—or tried to hold—”

  “Yeah, heard about that.”

  “So what you’d do is stand there and welcome people.”

  “By that point they’d know who you are, of course,” Becky chimed in, and sat down next to Brynn. “Because we’d use your face on packaging and the website.”

  Thank goodness for Becky.

  Chelsea sat forward. “I’m comfortable in front of crowds. I’ve been in a lot of plays. Last year I had the lead in Annie Get Your Gun.” Suddenly she looked like nothing more than a girl with dreams. A look flashed in her eyes. She was the sort of pretty that conjured up images of fresh country air and innocence, of mountain streams and wildflowers and fresh, wholesome dairy products.

  Brynn felt a pang of guilt for lying to her and leading her on. But she had told her they were simply considering it. Nothing was in writing yet.

  “Good to know.” Brynn took another sip of her drink.

  Chelsea lifted the glass to her lips and drank. Even her hands were beautiful. Long fingers, nicely painted nails. A diamond tennis bracelet and sparkly rings. Sapphires?

  Brynn had no idea Chelsea’s family had the money to afford these things for their sixteen-year-old.

  “We have so many plans for the business. We want to expand our cheese line, of course, but Wes is doing other exciting things with our dairy products.”

  She perked up at the mention of Wes. “I thought he was in jail.” Her hand played with a gold necklace with a diamond angel charm.

  Brynn’s heart skipped a few beats. This was a great opportunity to gauge her reaction about Wes and the murder. She didn’t want to blow it. “No. He’s out on bail.”

  Her perfect eyebrows lifted, and she set her glass down with a bit of a thud. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if he killed Donny he should be in jail.” She shrugged. “He seems real nice, but so did Ted Bundy, you know.”

  How did we get to Ted Bundy?

  “Wes didn’t kill Donny. I can assure you.”

  She bit her lip. “Perhaps you should find someone else for this job. I don’t know . . . I’d love to help you out, but now I’m uncomfortable.”

  “Why? Because of Wes?”

  She nodded. She really looked confused and frightened.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Chelsea. Do you know something we don’t know? Wes is a good guy. He comes from a good family and he’s been nothing but kind and helpful since he moved here.”

  “Then why did the police put him in jail? They had to have evidence, right?” Chelsea asked.

  “They thought they did, but the evidence was wrong.” Brynn wanted to be careful here. She didn’t want to tell Chelsea too much. But she was certain Chelsea knew more than what she was saying.

  Silence filled the room.

  “Someone said they found his prints on the gun and it was h
is gun.”

  “Wrong on both counts. Who told you that?”

  She looked away. “I don’t know. Everybody’s talking about it.”

  She was lying. One glance at Becky told Brynn she thought so, as well. Who was Chelsea protecting?

  “Would you like to meet my girls?” Brynn asked, hoping to escape this tense moment.

  “Your girls?”

  “My cows.” Brynn grinned.

  “Sure!” Her expression lost the tension it was holding. “I love cows.”

  That did it. The girl couldn’t be so bad. She loved cows.

  Maybe Brynn wouldn’t get all the information she needed from Chelsea this first meeting, but she’d keep working on her. Right now, she’d let her cows charm her a bit.

  They finished their lemonade and walked together out of the house into the field. It felt as if they walked into a wall of heat. The temperatures were nearing one hundred today. The cows slowly walked toward the three of them.

  Chelsea looked beyond them. “Jewel?”

  The still too skinny Highland cow looked up when Chelsea said her name.

  “Is that Jewel?” she asked, excited. The beautiful young woman lost a few years in that moment. Her face turned into a five-year-old face full of sweetness, awe, and enthusiasm.

  “It is,” Brynn answered.

  “I used to help Mrs. Rhodes with her sometimes.”

  The cow came walking over to Chelsea, making her way around the others, who were curious but more wanting to see Brynn.

  Chelsea’s arms opened and Jewel laid her head on her shoulder. Chelsea hugged her. The cow’s eyes closed in pleasure and relief. It was as if she was thinking, Here’s a familiar face.

  Chapter 30

  “You can come and see Jewel anytime you want. Well, as long as I’m fostering her,” Brynn said as Chelsea slipped into her car.

  “Thank you, Brynn. I’ll think over everything else, too,” she said, and started her car. Becky and Brynn waved as she pulled away.

  Becky sighed. “I’m not sure how I feel about her, but we better get inside.” The skies were growing dark and the wind was whipping the trees around.

  As they turned toward the house, Wes and Max were walking over from the guest house.

  “What was she doing here?” Wes asked, not even bothering to say hello.

  “Come inside and we’ll talk,” Brynn answered. He hesitated. “I’m not sure she should be anywhere around me.”

  They went toward the house.

  Becky opened the door. “We’ve got a plan.”

  They entered through the door and into the house, spilling out into the living room.

  Brynn recapped their plans with Chelsea.

  “Clever,” said Max.

  “Wait a minute,” Wes said. “It’s too dangerous. Some sophisticated hacker is out there trying to frame me for murder. I figure Chelsea has something to do with it. I don’t know what. But in any case, I’m uncomfortable with her being here.”

  Brynn’s heart dropped. She should have thought about that. “Okay, I’m sorry. But it was a ruse. We’re not planning on doing any of this. We’re just digging for information.”

  “Brynn, I realize you’re trying to help, but this is serious. I could go to prison for this murder.”

  “A murder you didn’t commit,” Max chimed in. “And law enforcement is moving too slowly, if you ask me. Brynn’s trying to help. It’s a brilliant idea. I’m in. What can I do?”

  “You are not in,” Wes said. “You’re going back to New York and finishing your internship. Dad is going back home and my lawyer will deal with this, without any help from Brynn.”

  Duly scolded, Brynn sat with her hands in her lap.

  Wes softened as he looked at Brynn. “You almost got yourself killed when you were investigating Gram’s murder. I won’t have it.”

  He was right. What did she think she was doing?

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You need to focus on healing,” Wes said.

  “Hear, hear,” Becky said. “Speaking of which, it’s pill time. I’ll go and get your next dose.”

  Brynn didn’t want to take any more pills. She didn’t want her sister and others fussing over her. She wanted her life back—which included the happy Wes working around her kitchen, experimenting with cheese, or hunched over the computer intent on some project.

  Or him hanging out and watching Downton Abbey with her.

  “Wes, like Dad said, the cops wouldn’t have even known about the credit card without him finding it,” Max said. “Don’t be foolish. They have very little staff and resources. They’re overlooking a lot, I’m sure. It won’t hurt if we help you.” He paused. “Brynn’s plan with Chelsea was brilliant. I think she should continue to reel her in. If she’s completely innocent, what harm would it do? If not, maybe she’ll slip up and reveal a nugget that’ll turn the case.”

  “I don’t like the girl. She makes me nervous,” Wes said.

  “But you don’t have to be around her. Brynn, did you get any information?”

  Brynn took a few minutes to consider it. Her head was unclear. “Well, I think she’s afraid of Wes.”

  “What?” he exclaimed.

  “She seems to believe you killed Donny, and she was leery of working for me because of it.”

  Silence filled the room.

  “That means nothing,” Wes said. “She’s a good actress. Don’t believe a word she said. She’s been stringing Roy along for months. I’ve caught her in some whoppers and called her on it. She doesn’t like me, but is she afraid of me? No. She’s not afraid of anybody.”

  “She sounds diabolical,” Becky said as she entered the room with Brynn’s medication.

  “Good word for her,” Wes said.

  “Did you say she’s been stringing Roy along?” Brynn remembered the pimply-faced young man from the first night of the fair—and then later at the concert. He was with Chelsea that night—or at least it appeared so.

  “Yes,” Wes answered.

  Brynn leaned forward. “Well, they were pretty snug during the concert.”

  “What? That can’t be. I don’t believe it,” Wes said, jaw tight. “Why would Chelsea go out with him? As I said, she’s been stringing him along. I’ve no idea why. But the guy is a waste of space. I mean, he’s good at hacking and gaming. But that’s it. He’s not nice, and he’s completely unattractive.”

  True. And Chelsea didn’t seem like the sort of person to discount looks.

  “I’m telling you what I saw,” Brynn said. “I remembered it because I thought it was strange.”

  “Stranger than you think,” Wes said.

  A cold shiver passed through Brynn.

  Chapter 31

  That evening, the Scors men and the MacAlister women gathered for dinner made by Wes and Becky. Fresh pesto crafted from basil they grew themselves, cheese they made, and pine nuts they bought at the local grocery store. Wes and Becky made pasta from scratch and they had fresh bread from Hoff’s Bakery.

  After Wes poured wine for everybody, he sat down but held his glass up. “A toast to the best friends and family a guy could ask for.”

  Brynn swallowed a lump of emotion creeping up her throat.

  “I’m not certain what’s going to happen, but I’m innocent and I appreciate you all standing by me and supporting me. Now, let’s dig in.” He rubbed his hands together.

  The dinner was quiet and filled with small talk. Nobody wanted to speak about the elephant in the room—or the cow, as it were.

  “This pesto is the best I ever had,” Nathaniel said.

  “Fresh makes all the difference,” Wes replied. “Just picked the basil and made the cheese last week before all the madness.”

  His phone rang. “Speaking of the madness. This is my lawyer. I need to take it.” He stood and moved into the kitchen.

  “He seems to be doing well,” Becky said. “I’d be a nervous wreck if I were him.”

  “He’s not quite himself,”
Nathaniel said. “Believe me.”

  “I agree,” Brynn said, but she couldn’t put her finger on what was off about him.

  Wes walked back into the room. “The police have another suspect. But he’s lawyered up. They’re not getting much information from him.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Some guy who worked at the carnival.” He sat back down to his plate of pasta.

  “Ian?” Brynn asked.

  “How did you know?”

  “I did a little research,” Becky said. “He’s an ex-con. Attempted murder.” The words sounded odd coming from Becky’s mouth. “Ex-con.” “Murder.”

  Wes shot Brynn a glare. “Getting your sister to do your dirty work?”

  Brynn’s face heated. “I’ve got to be careful with screen time. That guy has a record a mile long, and I saw him on a date with you know who.”

  “I thought I told you to stop.”

  “We were doing it while you were in jail. It was before you told me to back off.”

  “What’s the harm?” Max said after drinking a sip of wine. “She helped. The cops wouldn’t have been aware of this connection without Brynn’s help.”

  “It could be dangerous for her. Remember when Gram died?” Wes said.

  The room silenced.

  “Yeah, but this is different. If Gram were still alive, she’d be doing even more trying to prove your innocence. You need to get a grip.”

  “Well, there’s also the fact we don’t want to mess up his case. Whatever case the lawyer is building. We need to be careful,” Becky said. “I get that. But so far we’ve done nothing but help.”

  “I have mixed feelings about this amateur sleuthing,” Nathaniel said as he twirled the pasta around on his plate. “The local police seem to have their hands full with the fair and maybe aren’t able to fully investigate.”

  “Fair?” Brynn asked.

  Nathaniel crossed his arms. “Every night a different incident. Drug bust one night. The next night, the computer systems are screwed up and the rides won’t work. It’s like a microcosm for all of society’s ills over there.”

  Brynn had been so focused on her own problems she knew nothing about what else was happening in her community. Everything Nathaniel said was right. So much was going on in their small town the police resources were being pulled thin. And yet Wes was adamant they not help him. A wave of weariness came over her. She’d felt so good having everybody gathered here together at her table.