Why was that surprising?Josie stared at the folded-up blanket and pillow stacked on the pullout sofa.The fact that he’d stacked the bedding shouldn’t have annoyed her but it did.It was like saying, “Thanks for the hospitality.I won’t be back.”
Pain twisted her chest.
Beep, beep
She turned her head at the sound of the coffee maker.Strange.She hadn’t set it the previous night because she’d been so stunned by Quin’s arrival.She walked into the kitchen and saw a white slip of paper next to the machine.
Got up early and need to do something.
Didn’t want to wake you.
I owe you a meal—lunch?
Q
The pain in her chest eased a fraction.She grabbed a mug from the cupboard and filled her cup.Need to do something?If he was roaming around Whistlemore he wouldn’t make it back for lunch.He’d either get into an altercation with a pissed-off townsperson or the sheriff would haul his ass to jail.
She couldn’t spend her day worrying about Quin, though.He was a big boy, and if he wanted to flounce around town as a wanted man, he was on his own.She turned from the counter, coffee in hand.From the corner of her eye, a shadow moved.
She snapped her head to the kitchen window.A pearl of unease rolled down her spine.The sensation of being watched never went away.She’d first noticed it a month after Liam’s passing.She should have been comforted.Surely it was Liam stopping by to see her.He of all people knew she’d sense him.
Only it wasn’t his energy that her body picked up on.
She scanned the backyard.The large pine and birch trees that circled her property swayed gently in the breeze.A few clouds wiped out the brilliant sun that normally warmed the late March days and reminded her that winter was behind them for a couple more seasons.
Just a shadow.Maybe an eagle had passed by, or even a deer.It made sense that Liam’s death had put her on edge.She couldn’t help searching for his soul and waiting for the moment he’d bound up the back steps, swoop her into his arms, and tell her it had all been one big mistake—that he’d somehow survived.
The well of darkness opened up around her.She brought her fingers to the citrine crystal around her neck and rubbed the earthy stone.She mumbled a few affirmations: She could do this.One day at a time.One foot in front of the other.
She opened her eyes and blinked back the tears.One day she’d stop living as if each minute were as exhausting as a marathon.One day, the pain would ease.
Just not today.
***
Quin crumpled upthe oily wrapper holding the remnants of his breakfast sandwich and stuffed it in the paper bag next to him.The dirt road leading to Whistlemore Lumber had sparked an onslaught of memories.He’d spent every day, practically every waking fucking moment, at this place.The large main building looked more like a house, which held the homey air of a log cabin that they’d wanted to inspire builders with.There’d even been a time when they’d considered getting into building log cabins, but that had been more Liam’s idea.
He, Cody, and Liam had built the main building from the ground up after Quin inherited half a million dollars from his dad.
Money that was still his and still tied up in the business.
He got out of the car and took a deep, steadying breath of mountain air.The sound of the babbling brook that ran behind the property reached his ears, sucking him back to simpler times, when working with his buddies had been the center of his life.The early morning hour made it less likely someone would spot him.While operations started early, business wasn’t open to customers for another hour.
Everything had changed when Liam died.Hell, who was he kidding?Everything had changed the day he asked Cody to buy him out, just a month before Liam’s death.As much as he’d loved his business, he’d also seen that there was a time to sell.Unlike Liam and Cody, he hadn’t planned on growing old in a teeny mountain town and breaking his back when he was sixty years old.Quin flexed his fingers.Cody had every right to be livid with him.He’d bailed on the business, leaving everything in Cody’s lap eight months after Liam’s death, all because of the sonofabitch who’d framed him for burning down the bar.By the looks of it, though, Cody had kept the place running smoothly.
“Holy fucking shitballs,” a voice boomed from the front porch.Cody ran a hand over his close-cropped brown hair, his mouth slowly morphing into a grin.“Holy fucking—”
“Heard ya the first time,” Quin said with a chuckle.Not detecting an ounce of resentment in Cody’s voice, Quin let the muscles in his neck relax.
Cody descended the stairs.The wood boards shook under his weight.His old friend hadn’t changed.His smile was still as chipper as ever.Cody pulled him into a burly hug.“Man, what the hell happened?”He pulled away.Concern laced his brow.
Quin rocked his weight from his heels to the balls of his feet.“I don’t know where to start.Everyone thinks—”
“You know I believe you, dude.”
Quin nodded.Knowing that Cody hadn’t forsaken him kept him going.He was a lifeline.After fleeing town, he’d called Cody and told him about the fire he’d been framed for starting.By that point, his friend had already heard the worst stories, which spread faster than the flames that had eaten up the town’s most bustling business.
“That means a lot.”Quin looked up at the log building, and nostalgia pulled at his chest.“I’m not going to lie—it was hard to come back.”
