“Yes, but take the rest of your dinner with you and don’t let him eat it.”
She vanished into the living room with her plate,leaving behind a trail of cheese on the floor.
“Did you call the sheriff?” I said, turning back to Jake.
He shook his head. “Pointless. They’ll just say there’s no proof the Moorheads did it. It’s always a ‘neighbor dispute’ until someone ends up in a ditch.”
My mouth went dry. “Are you worried?”
He looked at me then, blue eyes sharp and exhausted. “No. But I think you should stay away from our property line for a few days. And if anyone comes around asking questions—”
“Say nothing,” Kane finished for him. “Business as usual.”
“Anyway,” said Kori, forcibly cheerful, “it’s not going to ruin our supper. Ella, help me get dessert?”
We retreated to the kitchen, where she started slicing the cheesecake with the dexterity of a surgeon. “You doing okay?” she asked.
“Sure,” I lied.
She gave me a look. “Caleb, —he’s been here twice now. Claims he’s visiting Jake for the first time in a long time, but something is off with him. I think there’s more to his story than that.”
I didn’t know what she expected me to do with that information. “He seemed normal this morning at the bakery. Weird, but … On second thought, he did ask a lot of questions.”
“About what?” she asked, placing a slice of cake on the awaiting saucers. “About what?”
“Me. He was asking a lot of questions about me.” A shiver ran up my spine, and I shook. “I’m sure he was just being friendly.”
“Maybe. Just keep your eyes open.”
The night settled into itself. At the table, Lana got loud about something on Twitter; Kane and Kori kept refilling everyone’s glasses until the sweetness of the wine started to coat my teeth. Jake and Caleb mostly sat in silence.
After dessert, I left Nora curled up with Moosey and a blanket on the couch, then wandered back to the kitchen to wash up. When I came around the corner, Jake was already there, sleeves rolled up, hands in soapy water. I stopped in the doorway, my breath caught in my chest. He didn’t look at me, just said, “Your kid’s tough. Reminds me of you.”
“She’s way better than I am,” I replied, and we stood there, the air heavy with the things we couldn’t say.
“Last week,” he began, then shook his head. Water dripped from his wrists onto the linoleum. “Never mind.”
When I didn’t move, he added quietly, “Keep Nora close to the house for the next couple of days. Don’t walk anywhere alone if you don’t have to.”
He turned, one hand still dripping suds, and said, “Almost forgot. That package I told you about at the pharmacy—I brought it with me.”
Chapter 5
Jake
Iwent out to my truck because I needed air. The cold did a better job of clearing my head than the bourbon had all week. Even so, my heart was racing like I’d just crawled under the truck and found a snake in the oil pan—not adrenaline, exactly, just that raw-nerved edge I only ever got around her. I paced the length of the Ford with the package in my hand, already rehearsing how I would hand the thing over and leave without making another mess of myself.
I could have made a career out of keeping my damn mouth shut, but every time I was around her, I said the stupidest things. I remembered all the ways you could ruin a good thing by saying too much. I nearly turned around and left the envelope propped on the porch, but when I looked up, she was already waiting at the screen door, silhouetted against the flicker of firelight while Kori’s laugh drifted in from the next room.
She stepped onto the porch, pulling a sweaterclose at her neck. “You really brought it? I thought that was just an excuse to leave.” Her voice was hoarse, like she’d been bracing for a fight.
I handed it over and tried not to notice how her hands were shaking. “I told you I did. I brought it tonight, after Kane told me you’d be here.”
She stared at the padded envelope like it was a snake before taking it. She tucked a thumbnail under the tape and peeled it back. The envelope made a ripping sound as she tore it open.
Inside was a greeting card and a small, battered box sealed with more tape than was necessary. She handed me both envelopes after tearing open the card. Her eyes scrolled the handwritten lines, and the color went out of her face in a single sweep.
She tried to say something, then pushed it down with a tight swallow and opened the box. Inside, bubble-wrapped and bound in tissue, was a strip of Polaroids—old, sun-warped shots of a kid I assumed was Nora, her hair matted with cake and her front teeth missing. I didn’t get why that mattered until Ella flipped the photos and showed me the backs.
