“And everyone up at The Anchor loves you. The folks here have never been so taken with a renter before.”

Remembering how welcoming everyone had been after the teasing last night, I beamed. Roane and I had stayed at The Anchor until closing, but this time I didn’t consume alcohol. Instead I enjoyed the company of the locals, including Penny, as they told me their life stories without artifice. I’d also learned that Roane’s closest friend from university lived in Scotland, just across the border, so his closest friend in Alnster, from what I could tell, was Bobby Hopeton. Bobby worked with Roane in some capacity. I wasn’t sure in what way—they kind of brushed over that when we were chatting last night. He was around the same age as Roane and me, and married to a woman named Jill, whom I hadn’t met yet because she was at home with their two kids.

Bobby wasn’t much of a drinker from what I could see, and sounded like a homebody. He gave me the impression he was only at The Anchor to get a look at me. This made me wonder what Roane had said about me.

“Everyone is so welcoming.”

Penny snorted. “Not usually, pet. Folks don’t want to be friendly with someone who isn’t sticking around. But they can’t seem to help themselves with you. Especially with Roane being so taken with you.”

“We’re friends.”

“Oh, aye.” She nodded but didn’t look convinced.

Hmm. Let her think what she wanted to think. Let them all think it. Roane and I knew what we were and that’s what mattered.

“Anyway, I best be letting you get on.”

“Wait, Penny.” When she turned back to me, eyebrows raised in question, I hesitated. What I wanted to ask wasn’t really my business, but I couldn’t help my curiosity. “I heard you’re selling this place, is that true?”

Her expression tightened.

“Sorry, not my business.”

Sighing, she turned fully toward me. “It’s all right. Aye, I’ve been thinking about selling it.”

“But why?”

Penny laughed at my nosiness. It wasn’t a happy sound. “Oh, pet, it’s complicated.”

“Do you want to sell it? Is it not financially viable?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I cursed myself. “God, I am nosy.”

This time when she laughed, it sounded genuine. “Aye, you are.” She glanced around at the shop. “The bookstore itself makes enough during the summer months to tide me over for the whole year. It’s the renting it out that really makes the cash, though.”

“Then why sell?”