“Where would I go?” Ryder only left town twice a year—both for fishing trips that lasted less than forty-eight hours.
“I believe you, Ryder.”
“Then why not let me keep doing my job? I don’t need to hide, Mayor.”
“Better out of sight. You know that.”
Any minor slipup could be used against him until they got rid of Chalmer’s lawyer. His every move would be watched and scrutinized. Despite every urge to battle the request, Ryder had to relent. If he refused, this whole mess could cost him more than a few vacation days. It might cost him his badge. Lee didn’t have to lay that one out on the table.
“Who—”
“I’m putting Murph in charge while you’re on leave.” Murph Sterling was the obvious choice, but Ryder felt guilty leaving her with the Johnson brother feud. That would no doubt interrupt her son’s tee-ball schedule. “Ryder, you’ve used one vacation day in two years.”
Why,was what neither of them had to say aloud. Ryder hadn’t put in for a single day since his wedding day. He’d tried to use the time allotted for his honeymoon to fish. But as much as he enjoyed fishing, he felt restless after two days and went back to work. His job—his duty to keep his community safe—gave him purpose. It fed his soul. Idle time off did not.
“What if I used four days?”
“This isn’t a negotiation.”
Ryder pushed up from his chair, returning the full coffee mug to the counter. “Ten days.”
“To start. More if we can’t shake this lawyer. Do yourself a favor and lay low so this doesn’t drag out.”
Chapter Three
Kinley
If Kinley lived to be ninety years old and never returned to Sunset Ridge after this visit, she’d always remember the way the sunrise made the logs of the lodge glow. Sunset Ridge Lodge, the massive two-story cabin, greeted her like an old friend offering a welcoming embrace.
She stepped out of the Buick, taking in the familiar sight with a smile. The dots of flowers blooming, the expansive deck that ran the entire length of the building, and those massive windows stretching toward the heavens.
Nine years had passed since she worked her last day cleaning rooms for Patty Whitmore. Had she only known back then that the woman held the answers she sought, Kinley might’ve made a point of asking who her father was before she got on that plane for basic training.
One last time before she marched inside, Kinley fished the faded blue envelope from a purse she rarely carried, feeling the need to read the most important words from the half-page letter she’d all but memorized.
Your dad lives in Sunset Ridge as of the writing of this letter. Patty Whitmore is the only one who can tell you everything.You must go to her in person.
The letter was dated five months before her mom passed. Penned just days after receiving a fatal cancer diagnosis. Growing up, Kinley had incessantly bugged her mom about who her dad was, and was always met with the same answer.I don’t know that, Kinley. We’ve been over this.
Kinley had never believed her, but she’d come to accept that her mother would take that secret to her grave.
It took staring death in the face for Cassidy James to tuck a mere clue in a letter Kinley wasn’t meant to receive until her twenty-fifth birthday. A letter her mom gave Patty Whitmore to send her.Not Fiona.
Her best guess was that whoever her dad was would be scandalized to find out he had a daughter. Maybe a little less so now with so much time elapsed.Or does he already know?Shoving the pesky questions away, Kinley tucked the letter away in her purse to show Patty later.
Palms sweaty, Kinley took a brave step forward. She might be minutes from an answer that had plagued her for decades. Despite her best efforts to remain objective, emotions tangled in her chest. Questions assaulted her no matter how hard she fought to silence them. Had her dad lived in Sunset Ridge all these years? Had he been in town while she went to school? When she graduated high school?
Kinley’s string of questions was interrupted when she nearly collided with a rustic sign swinging from two wooden posts, directing foot traffic to Whitmore Patio. “Serving breakfast and lunch five days a week,” she read from the smaller print.
The restaurant was new and unexpected. Patty swore she’d never add one, despite her guests’ relentless requests. Then again, Kinley didn’t know where the woman found the time to manage a restaurant on top of the bustling lodge. She didn’t have many memories of Patty taking a break. Just an occasional glass of wine with Tillie Grant enjoyed on the deck.
The crunch of gravel announced another car approaching, ushering Kinley down the walkway.Might as well get something to eat while I’m here.With Fiona at the library for the rest of the morning, she’d be on her own for meals anyway.
“Welcome to Whitmore Patio.” The woman who greeted Kinley did so with a warm smile. Those eyes . . . they looked an awful lot like Patty’s. But her former boss never had any kids. Patty married only once, before Kinley’s time. She blinked hard, convinced she was imagining things. “Are you new to town?”
“Something like that.” Kinley tried not to be rude, but sometimes her desperate need to keep to herself slipped out. A knee-jerk reaction the town brought out in her more than anything else. “Table for one.”
“Well, welcome to town. I’m Cadence. Follow me, please.” The woman, near her own age, led Kinley to a small two-person table along the deck railing. Kinley would’ve liked one with a little better view of the mountaintops, but she wouldn’t argue the privacy this one afforded. “Can I get you something to drink?”
