April’s heart leapt, the traitor.
“And I can see that he gives you hope, too,” Claudia said.
And maybe a reason to stop running.
“Give him a chance. No, giveyourselfa chance.” Claudia clinked her glass softly against April’s. “We should have lunch sometime,” she said with a smile before she slipped back inside, leaving April staring out into the deep forest.
The porch lightflicked on as April pulled into the drive, the laughter from Ellie’s cabin still clinging to her like warmth from a fire. Her little white house glowed against the dark likeit was glad she’d come home. For once, she saw it the way her dad always said she should—not as something small she had to apologize for, but her little fortress. The crooked porch rail just looked lived-in tonight, not lacking.
For once, she didn’t feel like she was racing home to put out another metaphorical fire. She’d checked in on Riversong. The espresso machine had held it together until closing time. Kevin was excited to tell her about his day.
The night air smelled strongly of pine sap and willows from the river as she walked from the car to her front door. She kicked off her shoes, hung her cardigan on the hook beside the door, and caught her reflection in the window: hair a little wild, cheeks still flushed from laughter, a small smudge of strawberry pie on her wrist. She looked…happy.
That realization startled her enough to make her laugh out loud.
Not bad, Taylor. You survived an afternoon with Claudia Behr.
She made her way to her bedroom, replaying the afternoon. Frankie’s glow. Wren’s easy humor. Ellie looking radiant, cradling Star, while Claudia—still crazy to think she’sBear’smother—was now a potential ally. It had thrown her off balance in the best way. Maybe she didn’t have to keep proving she was more than the girl who ran.
Maybe I already have.
Of course, the girls had noticed her and Claudia’s absence. April figured that Arden—who had grown up here—clued Wren and Rochelle in on the old dynamics while they were outside. No one mentioned Shane, though Wren’s wink and Rochelle’s knowing grin had both been light-hearted, they left April blushing anyway. They looked the way women do when they already know the truth you’re still pretending not to know.
She opened the bedroom window a crack to let in some fresh air. Her room still smelled sweetly of the vanilla crème candle she’d lit that morning. Outside, the river murmured low and steady like a wise old friend. She emptied her lucky purse onto the bed. The old Louis?Vuitton pattern still gleamed under the lamp as she transferred her things—lipstick, receipts, keys, wallet, breath mints—into her everyday purse. She slid the purse into its dust bag and placed it high on the closet shelf where it belonged—relic and reminder both.
April’s phone buzzed. Her pulse did a traitorous skip when she saw Shane’s name.
Ten-minute warning. Pizza inbound from R66.
April grinned.Pizza from Route 66, which they’d loved in high school, especially the wings. Had he picked it for nostalgia—or just convenience since it was close by? She typed back a simpleGot it,but her fingers hesitated over the screen a moment longer than necessary before sending it. Did her message sound short? How did she want to sound?
Whatdid she want?
April sat on the edge of the bed, phone in her lap. She couldn’t stop thinking about the look on Shane’s face when he’d told Kevin he was right. The way his voice had softened around her son’s name. The way her pulse had tripped like it used to when he smiled at her whenever she showed up for his math lessons—different from the ones he gave her at school, where people would see and judge.
He’s not that boy anymore.
And she wasn’t the girl who’d waited at a bus station, hope mixed with worry that he’d stood her up. Her chest ached now with the same nervous hope.
The way Shane talked to Kevin with genuine respect, how he never made promises he couldn’t keep. Kevin glowed around him. That used to scare her, the thought of her son latching on to someone who once walked away.
He adores you.
Enough to stand against his parents’ disapproval.
And, there was the matter of Riversong, and what she’d discovered when she’d taken over the bookkeeping once she came home.
The ache in her chest eased.
She returned to the front room in time to see headlights sweep across the yard. Gravel crunched under heavy tires and she recognized that engine anywhere—the deep, steady rumble of a Watchdog SUV settling into her drive.
April smiled before she could stop herself. She could hear Kevin’s eager, non-stop chatter and hoped he hadn’t driven Shane crazy. Pete’s bark followed a few seconds later, muffled but eager.
“Right on time,” she whispered, brushing a hand through her hair as she headed for the door.
ELEVEN
Twilight laida soft blue over the river as Shane eased the Watchdog SUV into April’s gravel drive and parked behind her. The porch light gave off a soft, golden glow and to Shane it felt steady, warm, a quiet welcome that settled in his chest.
