The Girl from Nowhere: Everyday Goddesses, #7
By Faith O'Shea
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About this ebook
Brigid Frazier's been climbing a precarious ladder out of nowhere for years and although she's making progress, she knows that any misstep could cause a tumble back into oblivion. She's finally given in and begun working with an illustrator for the children's book series she's writing, and it looks as if she's cleared another rung.
When his family is finally found, Gabriel Bresnahan comes back to Eden to face his past, carrying the same shattered heart he'd left with. As memories stir and the friends he'd left behind welcome him back, he begins to breathe again, but he's not sure even the truth will heal him. There's only one person who can help him now and when she lets him move with her for a few days, feelings he shouldn't have, begin to flourish.
With Gabe so close at hand, Breet feels the ground shift beneath her and all she can do is cling tightly to reality. He might be the man she wants, but he's not the settling down kind and she's anchored deep. No matter how many different endings she's imagined, who they are and where they came from make it impossible to be together. There's absolutely no point in risking her heart again. Is there?
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The Girl from Nowhere - Faith O'Shea
The Girl from Nowhere
Brigid Frazier’s been climbing a precarious ladder out of nowhere for years and although she’s making progress, she knows that any misstep could cause a tumble back into oblivion. She’s finally given in and begun working with an illustrator for the children’s book series she’s writing, and it looks as if she’s cleared another rung.
When his family is finally found, Gabriel Bresnahan comes back to Eden to face his past, carrying the same shattered heart he’d left with. As memories stir and the friends he’d left behind welcome him back, he begins to breathe again, but he’s not sure even the truth will heal him. There’s only one person who can help him now and when she lets him move with her for a few days, feelings he shouldn’t have, begin to flourish.
With Gabe so close at hand, Breet feels the ground shift beneath her and all she can do is cling tightly to the ladder. He might be the man she wants, but he’s not the settling down kind and she’s anchored deep. No matter how many different endings she’s imagined, who they are and where they came from make it impossible to be together. There’s absolutely no point in risking her heart again. Is there?
Praise for Faith O’Shea
Faith O’Shea is a contemporary women’s literature writer who loves writing about romance, magic, conviction, and loyalty, with strong women and the friendships they build. She has created many series of stories to make us laugh, cry and feel empowered and writes in a voice that speaks to women of all ages. Faith believed there were subjects and life that needed to be written about. ~ Loyce M.
I truly love the Everyday Goddess series. The strong, leading women characters, in this day and age, are inspiring to me and keep me coming back for more! The books are light, fun, extremely relatable and I can't put them down! ~ Kathryn B.
I just finished the Fire and Ice series. It had romance, strong friendships between the women characters and complex stories that were clearly very well researched. Loved all of them and looking forward to the goddess series next! ~ Gail N.
Oh wow! I just finished reading the Magic Bean Café and I must say that I was hooked from the first chapter and loved every page. The characters were full and believable. The child, Willow, had my heart with her wild imagination, gift of laughter, and the way she melted Aisin’s heart and helped him to realize that you can love a child that wasn’t yours. Thank you for gifting me this awesome read. ~ Your newest fan, Carol F. 💕
Magic Bean Café is a fantastic book of compassion for others with realistic characters. Plus a generous millionaire to help fulfill dreams. ~ Belinda
Everyday Goddesses
An extraordinary café and a circle of magical friends
Magic Bean Café
Rhea Cronun is feeling like Cinderella these days, but still isn’t looking for a prince. When Aisin Leehy strolls into town, he tempts her with more than flowers and candy, but even the fairy in her back yard, hasn’t cast the right spell. What will it take to convince her, he’s exactly the right fit?
Once There Was a Tree
Gwenhwyfar Cronun has lost everything that matters to her, her job, her arm, and her purpose. The ex-army vet is convinced she has no fight left in her, but when her former Captain, Ioan Sayer, moves into town, she quickly reverts back to fighting form. No way is she letting him back in, no matter what he promises. He’s out to soothe her dragon’s fire, but will she let him?
Tipping the Scales
Minerva Holt is picky when it comes to finding a man, although she’d rather call it discerning. She is a judge after all. Although she’s intrigued when Simon Iraklidis parks his food truck outside the courthouse, she’s not willing to lower her standards, not even for his baklava, which is heaven inspired. Will Simon be able to prove he can satisfy more than her sweet tooth?
Can’t Be Tamed
Lilith Varsela has been protecting her heart as fiercely as the women she advocates for and her mantra has become single today, single tomorrow. She doesn’t expect that to ever change but when she lets Niall Graeme back into her life, it’s a whole new day.
Remains to be Seen
Cerridwen Moore knows that a night-light isn’t normal at her age, and checking for fault lines is getting old, but the world took on a different slant the day of the cave-in. So busy holding herself together, she’s had no time for romance and doesn’t dare let anyone in. When Zain Bishara shows up, all smiles and eager to please, she thinks she might take a chance, but he’s been hiding something that threatens the ground beneath her and she isn’t willing to risk another fall. Will he be able to convince her he’s not his brother’s keeper?
Gardens of Eden
Inanna Rusnik has been sowing seeds all her life, and not just in her garden. Colorful blossoms have been pulling her in, and although the scents are delicious, she’s forgotten they’re short-lived. When the bloom finally fades, she sees what’s been in front of her all along. Can she convince her nursery manager, Tihomir Lukić, that it’s time to tangle their roots, entwine their hearts and plant their future?
The Girl from Nowhere
Brigid Frazier has finally given in and is working with an illustrator for her children’s book series. It’s another step up the ladder to somewhere, and she’s holding on for dear life. When Gabriel Bresnahan arrives back in town to deal with a twenty-year old mystery, the ground beneath it starts to shake, and she’s not sure if she can keep her balance. Will his arrival set her back, or will it lead to a long-imagined dream?
The Girl from Nowhere
Everyday Goddesses Book 7
Faith O’Shea
Copyright 2021 Susan Faith Campbell writing as Faith O’Shea
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in all form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known of hereinafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in an information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author, Susan Faith Campbell writing as Faith O’Shea at [email protected]
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by Jaycee DeLorenzo at Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs
Formatted by Woven Red Author Services, www.wovenRed.ca
The Girl From Nowhere/Susan Faith Campbell writing as Faith O’Shea- 1st edition
ISBN eBook: 978-1-7347337-2-3
ISBN Print: 978-1-7347337-3-0
To My Readers
I couldn’t wait to get to Breet’s story. She’s a librarian after all and I knew it would give me the opportunity to talk about books, both children’s and adult’s, and everything in between. I was also looking forward to following her footsteps as she moved toward her dream of publishing Phoebe’s story, and her collaboration with Aisin’s sister-in-law, Gemma. I knew her pretty well at this point, but she still had a longer story to tell that was bursting to get out.
Gabe was the unknown. Sure, I had my parameters set, knew how and when he’d met Breet, why he left Eden, and who he’d become since but I hadn’t been working with him since page one of Magic Bean Café so there was still a lot to discover. He turned out to be a pretty good guy and the perfect man for Breet.
I had fun researching all the bookstores in New England that might satisfy Breet’s sense of wanderlust and plan a trip of my own one day. I can’t think of any better way to spend a day than scouring a store with magical properties. The one I’m most anxious to visit is Montague Bookmill in Montague, MA. If you’re ever in the area…
Oh, and one last thing. Thanks for staying the journey with me.
Faith
CHAPTER ONE
Brigid Frazier was moving sprightly up the stone steps to the library, balancing a Magic Bean tray in her hand. She’d promised her boss she’d bring her one of Rhea’s new caramel apple muffins, the perfect October treat, but it didn’t really matter what month it was. Rhea always had a muffin you might be willing to die for. Unfortunately, Breet had only been able to stay at the café for a few minutes this morning, rather than the usual half hour or so, not that it really mattered. Most of her friends had been gone by the time she got there. A few of them worked in the city, and left no later than eight another had her first army training class to teach, and Hina rarely ventured in.
Going to bed so late last night had put a dent in her usual morning routine, but it had been so worth it. Gemma Leehy, her new illustrator, had emailed the renderings of the first few pages of the children’s book they were collaborating on, and Brigid couldn’t believe how well they captured the spirit of the elemental. It had jolted her right out of her usual reticence, inspiring her to work furiously to finish it to her satisfaction, and she’d actually fallen asleep at her desk.
When Rhea’s husband, Aisin, had given her his sister-in-law’s number, she’d procrastinated for more than a few months before calling, still not sure she had the courage to see her work out in the world. She’d written only for herself over the years, as a way to channel her disappointment with life, and she had notebooks upon notebooks filled with her tales. She’d begun to share them with people she trusted, but probably shouldn’t have. Her friends had been obstinately trying to convince her to get them published over the last few years and she’d been kicking and screaming all the way. It wasn’t the writing that had caused the procrastination. As soon as the words once upon a time were inked on a piece of paper, her creative juices flowed, and her imagination ran wild. It was working with an illustrator that made her blood run cold. She’d learned it was safer not to rock the boat, and she wasn’t sure how well she’d handle any conflict that might come with it. Now that she’d seen the sketches, she wasn’t as worried about that anymore, but there was still an underlying fear of being vulnerable again. Birthing stories that other people would read was terrifying. It was like putting her heart on the line, where it could be ripped to shreds.
As she breezed through the glass door into the lobby, she began thinking about her preschooler’s story time this morning. She’d chosen to read a couple of the tales from a new book that just came out by Yoshi Yoshitani. It was beautifully illustrated and had captured her imagination as soon as she’d checked it in. It was one of the perks of being a librarian. She got to see all the new books recently published and her Amazon bill could attest to the fact that she bought a lot of them for herself. She had a bookcase of children’s books and could while away the hours outside on her small deck, her wildflowers awash with color around her, reading her favorite stories over and over. She loved fairy tales. Some had a happy ending; others, like the works of Hans Christian Andersen, didn’t. Even the Grimm brothers could be a little grim from time to time. In Disney’s hands, they became saccharine, but she knew the truth. The hidden messages were there if anyone bothered to look. The big, bad wolf could be a mother who’d left her two-year-old alone for a fix. The evil queen might be the very person who brought you into the world. Snow White had her friends in the forest who sustained her until her prince came. There had only been a few of those champions in her life, the ones who had comforted and nurtured. Today she had a tribe, one she counted on for love and compassion. They might have heckled her from time to time, but it always came from the heart, so she actually reveled in it.
As she walked into the weathered building, she found a few members of her work family chatting at the front desk. She’d made good friends in the five years she’d been here, co-workers who she could laugh and complain with. A librarian’s life wasn’t all cupcakes and roses. The general public’s consensus was that all they did was read the entire day, and it was the farthest thing from the truth as you could get. They had phone calls to answer, requests to fulfill, book holds to process. They had to help patrons who had zero computer savvy with their searches, scour the shelves for books that had gone missing, check out books and scan them back in, stock the stacks, code in new purchases, especially the books being hyped by the news media, and get them out so people didn’t have to ask for them. They had to facilitate study groups and book clubs, attend webinars on things like time management, and keep current on local affairs so they had information at their fingertips. It wasn’t exactly glamorous, but she loved it. Her favorite time of day was when the schools let out and kids streamed in, their enthusiasm contagious. Teachers would drop by to select reading material for various classes, and she’d even begun putting together boxes of books that aligned with a certain objective, subject matter, or theme. The program had become so popular that there were waiting lists for those with the greatest demand, like dinosaurs and ancient Egypt. The room where she worked had arts and crafts tables, reading nooks, and computer games, even a chess match in full swing from time to time. Every time she walked through the door of the old stone building, it was like entering the prince’s castle, where all things were possible.
When she had a mere two steps to go until she reached the desk, the head librarian, Jennifer Smith, snatched the cup from the tray, lifted it to her mouth and took a cautious sip. Breet chuckled and said, It shouldn’t be too hot by now. I’m not the world’s fastest driver.
In fact, her friends made fun of her auto skills, and she had to admit there wasn’t a curb she didn’t like. Parking was so not her thing.
Jen’s eyes closed for a moment before she said, It’s delicious. Now where’s my muffin? We have our stand-up in ten minutes, and I’ll have to inhale it rather than savor as it is.
The meeting took place right before they opened their doors, and it was only fifteen minutes long, but it was held to keep the staff appraised of the day’s happenings. Jen would pass out the schedule and give a run-down of relevant town news and any demands or initiatives that came down from administration.
Breet handed over the muffin bag clutched in her hand and went to stash her pocketbook in the back. She might be in the children’s section this morning for her story time, but when it was over, she’d be coming back upstairs to man the main desk. Laura was still out on sick leave, so Brigid had been assigned her Monday-afternoon shift, and the morning shift on Tuesday. Breet was grateful she had the rest of the week to work her specialty. Carmen, her partner in crime in the children’s room, had a split shift on Wednesday and Friday.
When she entered the lounge, which held tables for eating and lockers for keeping personal items safe and secure, Carmen’s head was in the small refrigerator.
There’s a bag with a sandwich inside that I swear has been here since Labor Day. I’d say three weeks to get rid of it is more than fair. I’m throwing it out, repercussions be damned.
It’s not mine, so go for it.
Carmen straightened, the offending bag in hand, and tossed it into the black garbage can. She was wiping her hands off when she turned and smiled at her.
Good morning, miss sunshine. Did you have a good weekend?
Brigid felt a renewed rush of excitement. It came close in the joy department as how she felt last weekend when Ina and Ti got married. They’d held it in a field of wildflowers, Minnie officiated, and they all piled into her house to celebrate with a meal catered by Jimmy’s. She looked absolutely breath taking, in a burnt-orange long sleeve dress that fell over her pregnant belly in waves. She’d pinned back her hair with an orange dahlia, and the glow on her face told them how happy she was. They all loved her new husband, Tihomir, had for years, and he fit the mold set by Aisin and Ioan, Simon and Zain, the rest of the men in their lives. Ti respected her friendships, encouraged her to be herself, and loved her full out. Breet had begun to wonder lately if she was missing something important. The blush of true love had evaded her for years, not that she was envious. She’d decided a long time ago that she wasn’t risking another heart ache. It had helped that she hadn’t found anyone who might have tempted her. She’d fallen once, when she was freshly out of the foster care system, but she’d ended it before it had a chance to grow. He’d been too bold, too adventurous, and too reckless. Her soul might have longed to be all of those things, but her fear of the world and the people in it had tamped down her spirit. She’d longed for security, a place to call home, and a life that conformed to her wants and desires. But for as much as she refused to pull up roots and travel the globe, it didn’t mean she stayed home all the time. She regularly traversed to a different part of New England, looking for the hidden gems and she’d found plenty over the years.
Yesterday’s was exceptional.
She became animated and gushed, Oh, my God, yes. I drove out to this sleepy town in the western part of the state. The leaves were just turning colors and the scenery was magnificent. I found this hundred-and-seventy-five-year-old gristmill turned bookstore, with scuffed wooden floors and giant windows that overlook the Sawmill River. There was a couch, bench, or comfy chair in every corner and thousands of books to browse. I spent the whole day there, only taking a break to eat at the restaurant attached to the place.
It had maze-like aisles and a staircase that made browsing so much fun she’d promised herself she’d go back as soon as she could.
Carmen laughed. Only you could get so ramped up by a visit to a bookstore. You’d think you got enough working in a library.
She was thumbing the claddagh ring she wore on her third finger, unwilling to let Carmen make her feel foolish, when Kerry came rushing in. After stowing her purse in the locker and tucking her phone in the pocket of her skirt she said breathlessly, Jen’s ready for the meeting. You guys might want to hurry it along.
Carmen glanced over at Breet and they both burst out laughing. Kerry was the person who was the last one to arrive each day, usually with only minutes to spare.
Carmen drawled, Wouldn’t want to keep her waiting, now would we?
Breet shook her head, the smile still stuck on her face.
When they walked out to the desk, they found Jen licking her fingers. She shot a look at Kerry and said, Oh, good, you’re all here.
As if she needed shade, Kerry asked, Have we heard anything about Laura?
She was the veteran librarian who’d been out a few months while undergoing treatment for cancer.
Not since last Thursday when her daughter called to give us an update.
It wasn’t promising. Laura wasn’t doing well with the chemo and might be out longer than first anticipated. It seemed like the schedule-juggling act was going to continue. Breet furrowed her forehead but tried to keep the pout from her face. She mustn’t have been too successful because Jen patted her arm and said, I know it’s hard for some of you, especially those who love working with kids, but you’re doing a great job up here.
Her eyes settled on Breet’s. I’ve had lots of compliments on the way you’ve responded to questions and how well you’re helping with research that I’m almost tempted to ask you to transfer.
Brigid loved that aspect of the job. She loved learning new things, and by helping some of the high school and college kids on their projects, she’d extended her knowledge to include a variety of subjects she hadn’t known about. For as much as she was enjoying it short term, she had no desire to make it a long-term goal.
Breet eyed her and said, Please don’t.
Jennifer gave her a sad smile and shook her head in return.
After Jen had given out the breakdown for the day and the meeting was over, she asked Breet before she scurried away, What’s up with the remains found?
Jen knew she had a friend in the ME’s office, but being off the radar yesterday and missing the morning klatch, she hadn’t heard anything about unearthed bodies.
What remains?
You haven’t read the morning paper?
Not yet.
There was a body discovered late Saturday afternoon in the old Sadowski gravel pit, but by the time forensics was finished examining the site, they’d found two more. There’s some speculation that they belong to a family who once lived here, but nothing concrete has come out of the ME’s office. I thought Cerri might have said something. I know we’ll be getting questions about it, and I want to be up to date as soon as possible.
A quiver sent chills up Breet’s spine. Three bodies. It was the magic number that had probably led a lot of locals to a hasty but reasonable conclusion.
I didn’t see anyone this morning, and if Cerri’s in the middle of an autopsy, I’m not going to bother her.
Even though there was a voice in her head screaming at her to do just that.
If you have time later why don’t you do some digging, find out if three people went missing around here.
Jen was new to the area and hadn’t been around when a family had disappeared twenty years ago. Breet knew it wouldn’t take much digging to find the newspaper articles about it. It was front-page news for weeks.
That’s not necessary. I’m sure everyone is assuming it’s the Bresnahans.
Jen stopped checking in the books she was removing from the return book slot and looked up. Who are they?
Becoming panicked now, Breet managed to say, Locals who disappeared from their home over two decades ago, who up until now haven’t been found.
Jen’s forehead creased. Couldn’t they have just packed up and left town?
Breet was playing with her ring, twisting it furiously. No one believes they would have left their other son behind.
Jen’s eyes went wide. Whoa. What happened to him?
He left town after he graduated high school. You might have heard of him. Gabriel Bresnahan. He’s—
Jen’s expression shifted to complete surprise. I know who he is. I read his book.
He’d written Truth Matters a few years ago, and it had won a prestigious award. It offered a collection of stories that spoke to the importance of truth in reporting, along with some of his own experiences in the field.
If it’s his family, do you think he’ll come back?
Breet’s fidgety hands wouldn’t settle. Her palms were sweaty from her rising anxiety. She could still see him crystally clear. His image had never left her consciousness, but she had been able to bury it under layers of regret.
She licked her lips and said, I’m sure he will.
Seemed Jen wasn’t satisfied yet and asked, If they were found in a gravel pit, the authorities must be looking at it as murder.
They’ve always thought that, but they didn’t have the bodies to prove it.
She hoped Niall caught the case. Breet knew there was no one better at solving cases than he was.
If you find out anything, let us know.
Breet backed away from the conversation as if it were dangerous and scampered down the stairs to get ready for the pre-school-age story time, a ton of worry accompanying her. She couldn’t think about what it meant, not until they knew for sure. It would be too big and would mean something she didn’t want to contemplate. Couldn’t. Cerri would call when she knew for sure, and until then…well, she was going to have to manage the roiling emotions swirling inside.
She’d calmed her racing heart by the time the parents and kids came bounding in, the children going right to the rug and sitting criss-cross applesauce. They all knew the drill by now, most of them coming in every week like clockwork. She chatted with the parents, before going back to her desk and picking up the book. She’d jotted questions down on sticky notes that she’d refer to as she told the story and she flipped through, putting them to memory. Did they know what a word meant? What did they think the outcome would be and why? In her opinion, it helped with comprehension. It was one of the key components in achieving literacy, and it was never too early to start teaching it.
When she was finished reading, a little over a half an hour later, she asked the children questions about the stories. Which was their favorite? What did they like about it? What didn’t they? Was the ending what they expected? Afterwards, she spent time with a child who’d seemed out of sorts. She’d learned over time that the theme of a story might hit a nerve emotionally, might be mirroring something going on in the child’s life. When she’d satisfied her curiosity about the little girl, it was her turn to answer questions. Parents would often approach her to ask for recommendations or information about upcoming programs and today was no exception. There were a number of parents who asked for similar books to the one read today. With only two library copies, it was first come, first served, and they’d already been checked out. It gave her a lift, knowing the morning’s selection was a good one.
Thankfully, the rest of the morning flew by, and by lunch she’d completed most of her routine tasks and had started another new theme-box, based on teacher requests. The rainforest materials were easy to assemble, and she added everything she could think of to cover social studies, math, reading, and phonics. The books were some of the best they had, The Great Kapok Tree and the Magic Tree House book Afternoon on the Amazon two of them.
Her afternoon was spent upstairs, coding in the new arrivals, and there were dozens of them. Attaching call numbers took time even if you had the classification system down cold, which she did. She loved being assigned this job because she got the first glance at Phil’s selections. He was in charge of the library’s collection department staff whose primary duty it was to make sure the right books were on the shelves. She’d chatted with him one afternoon when he was here, using the computer to search his favorite sites for an upcoming order, probably the one she was classifying today. She knew where he pulled most of his selections from, places like trade publications and best-seller lists, but she’d been surprised that he interfaced with someone from Goodreads, who he said was a valuable resource.
There were a few books among the many she’d coded that would be going home with her over the next week. If they stayed on the shelves. They might have the first look at the new arrivals, but they didn’t get first dibs. That was left to the dozens of people who came in and out on a daily basis, searching for a great new book.
By five, she was only three quarters done, but it was time to go home. She’d be back here in the morning so she could finish up. She’d successfully buried the nagging fear of the Bresnahans’ recovery, but she knew as soon as she was home, alone, it would all come rushing back.
She walked out to her car with Carmen, like she did most nights. They didn’t have to park too far away, but she liked the partner rule Jen had instituted when she took the job as head librarian.
Doing anything special tonight?
Carmen asked as she hefted her pocketbook higher on her shoulder. The entire staff kidded her about its size and weight. If anyone needed anything from a safety pin to a pair of scissors, they sought her out. The joke was Carmen had somehow stolen Hermione’s bag from Harry Potter and stuffed it full of odds and ends.
Breet tucked her small purse beneath her arm. Not tonight. Too tired to do anything more than eat, read, watch some TV, go to bed.
She might poke around in the outside world, but she rarely invited anything new or exciting in. She’d had enough drama the first eighteen years of her life, and she didn’t need or want any more of it.
Paul’s picking up something from that new place that opened just outside of town. It’s Cambodian and I can’t wait to see how it is.
Only half listening, worry worming its way back into her heart as her mind wandered to the Bresnahans, and one of them in particular, she picked up the thread and thought a little diversion might be in order. Picking something up sounds like a good idea. I think I will, too.
Once tucked into her VW Bug, she waved to her friend as she pulled out of her parking spot, already going over her choices of where to stop. She wasn’t a big meat eater, so it limited her choices. In fact, her friends joked that she ate like a bird.
Her hand automatically went to her necklace, the one Gwen had given her months ago. From it hung a carrier pigeon, a symbol of a messenger, which her friends thought seemed to fit her. She hadn’t taken it off since she’d been gifted with it the night Gwen hosted their monthly gathering. Everyone had been given a symbol of how Gwen saw them. Rhea got a sheaf of wheat, Minnie the scales of justice, Lil a lioness, Cerri a labyrinth, Ina a bee, and Hina a spiral. That was the night she’d been spurred to at least consider getting some of her stories published, and after seeing the images that Gemma sent, she hadn’t fallen asleep until after three o’clock this morning.
Take-out was a good idea. She was too tired to assemble anything and the brooding about the family who’d disappeared was only going to get worse. Jimmy’s had a great selection of salads, so she called in her order and drove in that direction, listening to "Turning Tables," singing along with a wavering voice. She might love Taylor Swift’s music better than any other, but she loved several of Adele’s, and this was one of them. After she pulled into a parking space, she dropped her head back and closed her eyes until the last strains of the song faded to nothing. She knew what lay ahead. She knew he’d be back, knew for some reason he’d seek her out, but she wasn’t going to let him get close enough to hurt her. She