Darline's Arc

Chapter 6 of 13

Darline stood behind the bar, watching the crowd gather through the front windows. The invitations had worked too well. Merchants clustered near the door, florists whispered in tight groups, and regulars filled the tables early. She wiped down the counter for the third time, her spotless boots catching the lamplight. Waverly burst through the door an hour before the announcement, her face flushed from riding. She crossed straight to the bar and leaned close. "The merchant convoy is coming through tonight. They're targeting anyone who knows about the burial ground." She pulled a folded notice from her coat—the same kind she posted on the community board outside town. "I saw their camp two miles south. Vines growing over everything like they've been there weeks, but the fire's fresh. They're watching who comes and goes." Darline's stomach dropped. Half the people in this room knew the secret. She'd invited them here to gossip about roses, and now she'd put them in danger. Darline grabbed her notebook and climbed onto the bar. The crowd went quiet. "Change of plans," she said, loud enough to carry. "The rose secret isn't news anymore. Lovelock sold it to half the territory, and now there's a convoy hunting growers." She listed the names from her catalog—every operation using burial ground soil, every merchant who'd talked too freely. "If you're on this list, don't go home tonight. Stay here or ride out together." Rosie Tillman stood up, demanding to know what gave Darline the right to cancel her own event. Darline looked down at her. "I just saved your life. You can thank me later." The florists didn't leave, but they stopped whispering. For once, they listened. Waverly offered the log cabin she kept stocked on the north edge of town—a refuge she'd prepared for situations like this. Darline directed the growers there in groups of three, staggering their departures so no one looked suspicious. She stayed at the bar, pouring whiskey and keeping conversation loud enough to cover the exits. By midnight, fifteen people had slipped away to safety, and Darline's notebook sat open on the counter. She'd traded her moment of triumph for something better—proof that her gossip network could do more than ruin reputations. It could save lives. And tomorrow, everyone would remember who'd warned them first.