in the sling and walked down to the cabin. After everything Ian had done, he deserved to have his privacy back, and she needed to get the cabin ready so she and Wren could move in.
The place was empty, the curtains still drawn. It was also warm. Too warm. She should send Kelly a note telling her to turn off the heat when she left.
Maybe she was making a mistake by letting this situation with Kelly go on, but right now, home invasion was the least of her problems. She was a lot more worried about her complicated relationship with Ian and her fears that the Dennings would still refuse to let Wren go. She gazed around the dim, depressing interior. No sparkling white beadboard walls and cornflower-blue paint, no shiny dark wooden floors and brimming bookshelves. Somehow she had to turn this into a real home.
She carried Wren upstairs to park her in the middle of the bed, away from the cleaning fumes, while Tess gave the bathroom a fresh scrub. But as she entered the bedroom, she froze. The bedspread was rumpled, one pillow dented, the other on the floor.
Goldilocks had been here, too.
“Damn it!” Tess stomped into the room. It was bad enough having Kelly sleeping on her couch. This was too much.
A board creaked behind her. She whirled around to see Kelly trying to sneak downstairs. “You could at least have made the bed!”
“I was . . . I was checking the property. The . . . roof used to leak.” Kelly hurried down the stairs.
“Stop right there!”
Tess rushed after her, but Kelly kept moving. “This . . . this cabin has had problems over the years. It was built before World War II, so it’s quite old.” She hurried toward the front door, her rumpled silk blouse hanging loose from one side of her slacks. “The second floor was unfinished until—”
“I know you’ve been sneaking in here.” Tess closed the distance between them.
Kelly faltered. “I haven’t—”
“I’ve seen you. A week and a half ago. You were asleep on the couch.”
Kelly had nearly reached the door. “I— Well, then . . . I apologize.”
“I don’t want an apology. I want to know why you keep showing up.” She pushed in front of Kelly and saw what her intruder didn’t want her to see. That she’d been crying. Her hair was flattened against the side of her head, her makeup had worn off, and her eyes were red-rimmed.
Kelly looked away. “This was my grandmother’s place. I—I have happy memories of the time I spent here growing up. When I get stressed . . .” She curled her hands into fists at her sides. “It won’t happen again.”
Tess wrapped her arms protectively around Wren and thought of Ava and her worrisome boyfriend, Connor. Was that what had Kelly so worried, or could it be the pressure of being the wife of the town’s most important citizen?
Kelly ducked around her. “I have to go.”
“Wait. My shoulders are killing me. Hold Wren.” Tess took her baby from the sling and placed her in Kelly’s arms. Tess’s shoulders were fine, but something about the woman’s vulnerability tugged at her.
Only the most callous could resist a newborn, and Kelly wasn’t callous. Her arms instinctively closed around Wren, who didn’t look happy with the transfer. Tess told herself this woman’s pain wasn’t her business—a woman she didn’t even like—but butting into other people’s lives seemed to be her obsession these days. Besides, it was easier to be clearheaded about other people’s troubles than about her own. “I’ll make some coffee. Or tea. Tea is supposed to make everything better. And I need some advice.”
Kelly moved away from the door. “You want advice from me?”
Kelly would eventually hear about the boys’ visit last night, so why not broach it now? Maybe it would mediate the fallout. She lifted the teapot from the stove and gestured toward the kitchen table. “You know the town a lot better than I do, and I seem to have stepped into it again.”
“How?”
“Four teenagers showed up at the schoolhouse last night. Boys this time.” The teakettle had a dusty film, and Tess rinsed it off at the sink. “And before you say anything—I told them to talk to their parents.” One of the kitchen chairs squeaked on the floorboards as Kelly sat at the table. “They weren’t having it.”
“Who were they?”
“Local boys. Nice kids. Or at least three of them seemed that way.” If she called out Connor by