“Thank you,” she said. “I’m trying not to mother Ginger, but I’m thirty years older than she is and even though I haven’t been a mother, it kind of comes naturally.”

Carrie passed the food across the deli counter. “Be yourself. You’re a good woman and you love her.”

“I do love her. She was my little angel.” She dug around in her purse for money.

“Ah, on the house, Ray Anne. Tell her I’m sorry we’re not going out tonight, but this is my contribution.”

Eleven

Grace had always been capable of focus and discipline. She had amazing willpower and she thought with a clear head about what Seth had said. She reminded herself it was a note and not from the person who had threatened her fourteen years ago. She would be careful. Perhaps she’d be overly cautious for a while, but that was all right. She was not going to melt into a sniveling little girl.

In years past, when she was a teenager and the exhaustion or the other competitors or even her mother got the best of her, when she broke down, it got her nowhere. When that happened, when she cried, the abuse was even worse. The only thing that had ever worked for her was strength and grit. So she relied on that again. She focused on her abilities. She was small but very strong.

Troy was at the shop as soon as he was done with work. He had to knock on the back door because, feisty or not, she wasn’t an idiot.

“I called Coop and told him I couldn’t help at the bar this week because there’s stuff going on.”

“Let’s not do that,” she said. “Let’s not panic and run scared.”

He frowned. “You shook and had nightmares all night.”

“Yeah, I hope I don’t do that anymore. I’m much stronger and more sensible than that. Go help at the bar—I know how much you enjoy it. I think I’ll get something from Carrie to warm up for dinner. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll text or call you when I’ve closed the shop and gone upstairs. If you want to come by later, that’s okay, but really, you don’t have to. I think I’ll be fine. I’ll lock the back door and even slide a chair against it.”

“This is a pretty sudden shift. What did Seth say to you?”

“Nothing so much—just that Bruno is not a threat and it was only a note, not a crime.”

“Are you sure you’re not in shock?”

She took a deep breath and leaned one hip against the worktable. “Sometimes I forget about my greatest accomplishments growing up because they weren’t medals or ribbons or plaques. Do you know what one of the ESPN commenters said about me when I was fifteen? He said, ‘That little girl is one hell of a fighter. Don’t mess with her.’”

That made Troy smile. “You must regret leaving it sometimes.”

“Never. I was done with that life. I did everything I could do. You can’t imagine what it was like—I don’t even expect you to try. No,” she said, sliding her arms around his waist. “I like this life. And if I ever figure out who would try to screw it up with a scary little note, I’m going to make his life miserable.”

“When I said I wanted you to be brave, I didn’t mean that you should take any chances. I’ll watch the shop while you go get some dinner for later. I want you to call me tonight. Then I’ll come over when I’m off work.”

“I love it when you come over. But you don’t have to babysit me. You had a life before all this, a busy life. We can talk on the phone later, if you want to go home.”

“I think I’ll come over, if it’s all the same to you. At least tonight.”

“Then go home and change, bring your work clothes and laptop...you know the drill.”

“Are you faking brave? Because of what I said last night?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “I’m faking brave because I just remembered it’s how I get control. It’s how I begin to feel brave. Now stay put—it shouldn’t take me ten minutes to walk down to Carrie’s.”

* * *

Two days later, Troy decided to stop by the deputy’s office after school before going to the flower shop. As luck would have it, Seth was there, sitting behind his desk, one foot propped casually on the desk while he talked on the phone. Another deputy, Charlie, seemed to be working at the computer on the desk behind Seth’s. When Seth saw Troy he made excuses into the phone and disconnected.

“Hey,” Seth said. “Everything all right?”

“Fine. I just thought I should tell you—that stuff I ordered came today. Grace texted me that she got it at the flower shop. Pepper spray and a Taser.”

“Really,” he said, standing up. “Mind if I look at it?”

“No, of course not. But it’s completely legal.”

“Sure. But I’d like to know what you could buy so easily and have delivered in just a couple of days. If you can, anyone can. I’d just like to know.”

Troy shrugged. “Come on, then. There’s a DVD with the package. Should be instructions and safety measures. I’ll feel a lot more comfortable knowing Grace has something handy she can use to protect herself if...well, you know. She had that scare years ago.”

“I don’t think we’re dealing with the same set of circumstances, Troy.”

“I get that, but wouldn’t you feel better, if it was Iris, knowing she had some kind of self-protection?”

Seth laughed. “Have you met Iris’s left hook?” he asked. “I’m not sure I’d arm her on top of that.”

“Grace needs a little something, if only for her confidence.”

“Yeah? Well, be careful. Don’t sneak up on her,” Seth advised. “I wouldn’t mind having a look at the DVD after you’ve seen it. If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” He opened the shop’s front door and yelled, “Gracie?”

“Troy! Come and see! You’re not going to believe how cool this is! It even comes with a holster!”

He walked into the workroom and the box stood open on the table. Scattered about was packing material, extra Taser cartridges, two small pepper spray cartridges, a DVD and a catalog.

“Look at this!” she said, turning to one side so he could see the Taser affixed to a leather belt that was far too large. She took a gunfighter’s stance, arms out at her sides. Then she did a fast draw, popped the Taser off the belt, pointed and...