“You’re a terrible liar, Millie. I know you’re in on it. Fess up now and save yourself some embarrassment.”
“They made me do it.”
Hannah struggled to keep her tone level. “You understand me better than anyone. How could you?”
“Marty! Get out here and cover for me!” Millie grabbed Hannah’s sleeve and yanked. “You. With me. Now!”
All eyes in the diner followed them as they stomped toward the back room.
As soon as they shoved through the doors, Millie let go and whirled around while shaking a finger. “It is time you moved on. Jake has been gone over four years now. Four years. It's timeyou got on with your life. You’re a young woman. Completely shutting down is not natural.”
“That is not your decision. In fact, it is no one else’s decision.” Hannah swallowed hard, trying not to lose her temper. She started shaking and couldn’t stop. Maybe it had been four years, but feelings didn’t understand about timelines.
Fists clenched; she sucked in another deep breath. She had to make her best friend see. “It is my decision alone. I am the one lying in bed at night listening to the sound of him breathing beside me. His scent stays on the sheets no matter how often I wash them. I can even feel his warmth on his side of the bed.” She took a step toward Millie,backing her against a rack of unpacked canned goods. “Sometimes I think if I turn around fast enough he might be there waiting to hold me. I still hear him whispering my name. Have you ever felt like that about anyone you’ve lost? Answer me, Millie. Have you?”
Millie edged away, pressing back against the rack. Jaw clenched, she stared at Hannah but didn’t answer.
None of them understood. Hannah’s heart was a raw, open sore with no hope of healing. Millie knew she and Jake had always been inseparable. They all grew up together in Jasper Mills. Everyone understood she and Jake would marry and live happily ever after. Now Jake was gone, and so were her plans. They had no right to tell her to move on.
“I have photographs. I saw you, Tom, and Brodie move my car today, and I bet you’re the ones who moved it every time. This is over, Millie. Done. Understand? Matt is a nice guy, but I am not on the menu. Fix him up with Lily over at the day care center. She is cute, single, and wants to mama a herd of kids.” Hannah yanked open the storeroom door, leaving her friend with her lower lip trembling. “No more meddling,” she tossed back over her shoulder. “And I hope everyone heard me.” As she let the door swing shut behind her, a huffing groan escaped her.
There stood Matt at the counter with ticket pad in hand and a smug grin. Might as well get this over with and take them all out at once. “Sheriff Matt, I would like to give you something I think will cover all those parking tickets.” With a forced smile that made her cheeks ache, she fished the photos out of her pocket.
Matt’s smile widened as he stood taller. “So, you finally decided to give me a few hours of your time and have dinner with me?”
She shook her head. “Why, no. I believe that would be unethical. But I do think these shots of someone tampering with personal property might be of interest to you. There is also one that looks like you might even know about it. See? This one right here?”
The diner became silent as a tomb. The usual clank of dishes and silverware evaporated. All conversation also stopped as though she and Sheriff Mulroney were in a deserted church instead of a diner.
“They were just trying to get you to come around, Hannah,” he said quietly. “No one meant any harm.”
She lifted her chin and let her gaze take a slow circuit around the diner, making sure all the eyes focused on her. She knew each of these people. Had known them all her life. They should realize by now how stubborn she was and that they needed to give her more time to heal.
“I appreciate the reason behind what you tried to do here. But you can’t do this for me. Let me heal in my own time. I can’t get over a lifetime of Jake in just four short years. Your little game is over. It’s not funny anymore.” Then she turned back to Matt and tapped on his leather-bound ticket book with the pictures. “No more hide and ticket with my car. We can be friends, but that’s it. If you keep writing me tickets, I will make sure every varmint I can find infests your house and office.”
“You can’t do that!”
Old Mr. Henry cleared his throat as he hobbled his way across the diner toward the cash register in the corner. “Don’t underestimate her, son. Everybody knows Hannah has an odd way with the critters. You should’ve seen her with that pack of skunks a few years ago. Nobody messed with Hannah that spring. And that was before Jake died.”
“It’s no worse than what you did with your little ticket charade. So, like I said, no more tickets. Do we have a deal?” She stood at the door of the diner, waiting for Matt’s compliance.
He tossed his ticket book on the counter and lifted both hands in surrender. “No more tickets.”
Sunlight filtered downthrough the leaves, sending bright spots dancing across the ground. Birches, maples, and hundred-year-old oaks dotted this part of the mountain, along with cedar, dogwood, and pine. Everything shifted in the gentle breeze. The morning sunshine still held the crisp kiss of spring. It was early enough insummer that the humidity wasn't high enough to plaster your clothes to your body. It was the kind of warm day where cats became boneless and draped across the porch railing for a lazy, sun-drenched snooze.
Hannah rocked to the rhythmic squeak of the battered porch glider while she sipped her morning coffee. She loved the steady ricketedy-racketedy thump of the rusty-hinged swing. It reminded her of Granny and simpler days. They had spent hours on that front porch swing, making up stories about magical places.
She propped her bare feet on the waist-high railing of the weathered veranda, cradling the steaming cup against her chest. The covered porch ran the circumference of the house, providing the perfect morning oasis. The third-generation home screamed for want of a few replaced boards and a fresh coat of paint, but she just couldn’t seem to find the time or the inclination. With a sigh, she flicked at a bubbled-up paint chip with her big toe. A ruby-throated hummingbird buzzed in from the cluster of cedars bunched at the corner of the house. The iridescent flash of green hovered a moment in front of her, dipped closed enough for her to feel the wind from its whirring wings, then dashed to light on the feeder hanging from the roof’s edge.
As she watched the bird submerge its needle-like beak into the trumpet-shaped feeder, she allowed herself a heavy sigh. Today, she would go to the cemetery. It was their anniversary. She and Jake would have been married six years today. If only. She sucked in another deep breath and curled her legs beneath her. She hated the if-only game. It had eaten away at her soul and churned her gut ever since Jake died.
The wind sent the faintest sweetness across here. She closed her eyes against the honey-sweet fragrance and forced down the knot of emotions threatening to choke her. The scent reminded her: she needed to gather an armload of honeysuckles. She couldn’t let their anniversary pass without covering Jake’s marker with their favorite flower. A bittersweet ache shuddered through her as she remembered the first time she and Jake had discovered the sweet-smelling vines.Hannah had just turned six and faithfully followed seven-year-old Jake wherever he went on their mountain.
Young Jake had sworn they followed the trail of the elusive Big Foot. He had seen it on television the night before and recognized the massive old oak in one scene right before the last commercial. Hannah knew he was right. After all, Jake knew everything. Didn’t he tell her that often enough?
They had discovered the opening of a deserted cave hidden behind that tangled abundance of flowering honeysuckle vines. But much to their disappointment, Big Foot escaped them. However, the enticing, honey-laced aroma of the flowers caught their attention. That’s when Jake discovered if he took the trumpet-shaped flower and pulled the stamen backward out through the stem, they could catch the sweet, sticky nectar on their tongues and rob the local hummingbirds of their syrupy treat. They immediately forgot Big Foot and spent the afternoon pillaging the tasty flowers.
Hannah swallowed hard again. The memories almost strangled her so she forced herself back to the present. Curse that stupid war, and curse Jake for his need to be everyone’s hero. He had always hungered for the excitement of adventure more than he ever hungered for her. She closed her mind against those darkest thoughts that had always plagued her. Some other adventure would have stolen Jake from her even if he had survived the war. But that didn’t matter now. The hair-trigger bomb wired to that hospital jeep had sent him home to her in a box. He could never leave her again.
