“It is,” Jake confirmed with a definitive nod.
“Great, then let’s go grab your things, and you can unpack.” Doreen led the way back to the living room, where James had deposited their luggage earlier.
As she picked up Jake’s backpack, the memory of James carrying everything in flooded back, his arms loaded with their bags, the determined set of his jaw, the way he’d insisted on taking it all in one trip. She shouldn’t read into that. He was probably just being polite. Helpful. Efficient. But a small, traitorous part of her wondered if he’d wanted to impress her. And that thought was both ridiculous… and oddly thrilling.
Doreen shook her head slightly. She was still confused by what she read as mixed signals from the deputy. The way he’d looked at her when they shook hands had seemed... significant. But maybe it was just her imagination working overtime. Her instincts had betrayed her once before, rather spectacularly. Why trust them now?
While Jake arranged his clothes in the dresser, Doreen retreated to her own room to unpack. She hung her clothes up carefully, pausing as she considered what to wear for dinnertonight. Before Sorcha had invited James, Doreen had planned to go in her comfortable navy sweater and loose slacks.
But now…
Her fingers drifted to a more flattering burgundy cashmere sweater she’d packed on a whim. Would it be too much? Too obvious? She bit her lower lip as she questioned whether it even mattered what she wore.
She closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against the cool wood of the closet door. What was she feeling? This flutter in her stomach, this awareness that hummed just under her skin whenever she thought about James Pike...
It took her a moment to recognize it for what it was.
Hope.
The realization made her breath catch. After all this time, all the hurt and disappointment, she was feeling hope. Hope that she might get a second chance at love. A chance she’d never believed she’d deserve again.
“That’s ridiculous,” she whispered to herself, hanging the burgundy sweater back in the closet. “You just met the man.”
But as she reached for the navy one instead, her hand faltered. With a small, defiant smile, she pulled the burgundy sweater back out. It didn’t have to mean anything. She could just want to look nice for dinner with friends. And she wanted to feel like herself again—someone vibrant, alive, not invisible.
How had this simple getaway turned into something so complicated? Because that was life. Messy, complicated, and with no guarantees.
And life was what Doreen had been running from, hiding from for far too long. It was time to borrow some of Bash and Jake’s enthusiasm for life. Time to grab it with both hands and take risks.
Because otherwise she was sentencing herself to a life alone, and she was so very tired of feeling alone.
“Aunt D!” Jake called from the hallway. “Can we make that hot chocolate now?”
“Coming!” she called back, her fingers lingering on the burgundy sweater before she closed the closet door. She’d decide what to wear later. Right now, her nephew needed her, and that was something she knew exactly how to handle.
As she headed toward the kitchen, she couldn’t help but smile. Maybe this unexpected trip to Bear Creek was exactly what she needed after all.
In the kitchen, Doreen found Jake already standing on tiptoes, trying to reach the cocoa powder she’d spotted earlier on the top shelf.
“Let me help with that,” she said easily, retrieving the container. “Safety first, remember? That’s our rule.”
“But I’m tall for my age. I can reach,” Jake protested, though he stepped back to give her room.
“Tall enough to be my assistant chef,” Doreen agreed, ruffling his hair. “Can you find us some mugs while I heat the milk?”
Jake nodded eagerly and began opening cabinets while Doreen searched for a saucepan. The kitchen was well-stocked and well-equipped with everything she’d need. A home away from home.
Should she have expected anything less from Sorcha?
“Found them!” Jake announced, holding up two mugs, one with a moose silhouette and another with pine trees encircling the rim.
“Perfect.” Doreen poured milk into the saucepan and set it on the stove. “Now we just need to wait for it to warm up.”
Jake climbed onto one of the barstools at the counter, swinging his legs while Bash settled at his feet with a contented sigh.
“Aunt D?” Jake’s voice had that particular tone that meant a serious question was coming. “Do you think Dad’s okay?”
The question caught her off guard. She turned from the stove, studying her nephew’s face, noting the small furrow between his brows and the way his fingers fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve. Of course, he was worried. She should have expected this.
