tires crunching over gravel faded into nothing.
She looked at Indiana. She’d brought the horse with her from California—just Indy and three suitcases containing her most treasured belongings. Indiana had remained quarantined for some time after her arrival. Long enough for Callie to hunt through real estate lists until she’d found the perfect place to start her riding school.
Callie loved Sandhills Farm. Indiana and the rest of her nine horses were her life … her babies. The only babies I’ll have. It made her think of that man and his four children.
A strange sensation uncurled in her chest, reminding her of an old pain—of old wishes and old regrets.
She took Indy’s reins and led him toward the stables. Once he was back in the stall Callie headed for the office. She liked to call it an office, even though it essentially served as a tack room. She’d added a desk, a filing cabinet and a modest computer setup.
Joe, her part-time farmhand, had arrived and began the feeding schedule. Callie looked at her appointment book and struck Lily Preston’s name off her daily list. There would be no Lily in her life … and no Lily’s gorgeous father.
She looked around at her ego wall and at the framed photographs she’d hung up in no particular order. Pictures from her past, pictures of herself and Indiana at some of the events they’d competed in.
But not one of Craig.
Because she didn’t want the inevitable inquisition. She didn’t talk about Craig Baxter. Or her past. She’d moved halfway across the world to start her new life. Crystal Point had been an easy choice. Her father had been born in the nearby town of Bellandale and Callie remembered the many happy holidays she’d spent there when she was young. It made her feel connected to her Australian roots to make her home in the place where he’d been raised and lived until he was a young man. And although she missed California, this was home now. And she wasn’t about to let that life be derailed by a gorgeous man with sexy green eyes. No chance.
Callie loved yard sales. Late Sunday morning, after her last student left, she snatched a few twenty dollar bills from her desk drawer and whistled Tessa to come to heel as she headed for her truck. The dog quickly leapt into the passenger seat.
The drive into Crystal Point took exactly six minutes. The small beachside community boasted a population of just eight hundred residents and sat at the mouth of the Bellan River, one of the most pristine waterways in the state. On the third Sunday of every month the small community hosted a “trunk and treasure” sale, where anyone who had something to sell could pull up their car, open the trunk and offer their wares to the dozens of potential buyers who rolled up.
The sale was in full swing and Callie parked a hundred yards up the road outside the local grocery store. She opened a window for Tessa then headed inside to grab a soda before she trawled for bargains. The bell dinged as she stepped across the threshold. The shop was small, but crammed with everything from fishing tackle to beach towels and grocery items. There was also an ATM and a pair of ancient fuel pumps outside that clearly hadn’t pumped fuel for years.
“Good morning, Callie.”
“Hi, Linda,” she greeted the fifty-something woman behind the counter, who was hidden from view by a tall glass cabinet housing fried food, pre-packaged sandwiches and cheese-slathered hot dogs.
She picked out a soda and headed for the counter.
Linda smiled. “I hear you had a run-in with Noah Preston yesterday.”
Noah? Was that his name? He’d probably told her when he’d made arrangements for his daughter’s lessons, but Callie had appalling recall for names. Noah. Warmth pooled low in her belly. I don’t have any interest in that awful man. And she wasn’t about to admit she’d spent the past twenty-four hours thinking about him.
“Good news travels fast,” she said and passed over a twenty dollar note.
Linda took the money and cranked the register. “In this place news is news. I only heard because my daughter volunteers as a guard at the surf beach.”
Callie took the bait and her change. “The surf beach?”
“Well, Cameron was there. He told her all about it.”
He did? “Who’s Cameron?”
Linda tutted as though Callie should know exactly who he was. “Cameron Jakowski. He and Noah are best friends.”
Callie couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to be friends with Noah Preston.
“Cameron volunteers there, too,” she said, and Callie listened, trying to not lose track of the conversation. “Noah used to, but he’s too busy with all his kids now.”
“So this Cameron told your daughter what happened?”
“Yep. He said you and Noah had an all-out brawl. Something to do with that eldest terror of his.”
“It wasn’t exactly a brawl,” Callie explained. “More like a disagreement.”
“I heard he thinks you should be shut down,” Linda said odiously, her voice dropping an octave.
Callie’s spine stiffened. Not again. When she’d caught the Trent sisters smoking in the stables, Sonya Trent had threatened the same thing. “What?”
“Mmm,” Linda said. “And it only takes one thing to go wrong to ruin a business, believe me. One whiff of you being careless around the kids and you can kiss the place goodbye.”
Callie felt like throwing up. Her business meant everything to her. Her horses, her home. “I didn’t do anything,” she protested.
Linda made a sympathetic face. “Of course you didn’t, love. But I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you had because of that little hellion.” Linda sighed. “That girl’s been nothing but trouble since her—”
The conversation stopped abruptly when the bell pealed and a woman, dressed in a pair of jeans and a vivid orange gauze blouse, walked into the shop. Black hair curled wildly around her face and bright green eyes regarded Callie for a brief moment.
“Hello, Linda,” she said and grabbed a bottle of water from one of the fridges.
“Evie, good to see you. Are you selling at the trunk sale today?” Linda asked.
Her dancing green eyes grew wide. “For sure,” she said and paid her money. “My usual stuff. But if you hear of anyone wanting a big brass bed, let me know. I’m renovating one of the upstairs rooms and it needs to go. Catch you later.”
She hurried from the shop and Linda turned her attention back to Callie.
“That’s Evie Dunn,” Linda explained. “She runs a bed and breakfast along the waterfront. You can’t miss it. It’s the big A-frame place with the monstrous Norfolk pines out the front. She’s an artist and sells all kinds of crafting supplies, too. You should check it out.”
Callie grimaced and then smiled. “I’m not really into handicrafts.”
Linda’s silvery brows shot up. “Noah Preston is her brother.”
Of course. No wonder those green eyes had looked so familiar. Okay, maybe now she was a little interested. Callie grabbed her soda and left the shop. So, he wanted her shut down, did he?
She drove the truck in the car park and leashed Tessa. There were more than thirty cars and stalls set up, and the park was teeming with browsers and buyers. It took Callie about three minutes to find Evie Dunn. The pretty brunette had a small table laid out with craft wares and costume jewelry.
She wandered past once and then navigated around for another look.
“Are you interested in scrapbooking?” Evie Dunn asked on her third walk by.
Callie stalled and eased Tessa to heel. She took a step toward the table and shrugged. “Not particularly.”
Black