Let them. If it keeps Kate and Evie feeling safe, they can talk all they want.
Chapter thirty-nine
Kate
Evie’s at my mom’s, Cam’s at the field, and for the first time in days, I can breathe. No lawyers, no paperwork, no tension sitting heavy on my chest. Just a quiet day at the library filled with books, coffee, and order.
Then the bell over the front door jingles.
I look up, expecting a student or one of the retirees who come in to pass the time. Instead, in walks Haddie Carmichael—Cedar Falls’ unofficial news anchor and reigning queen of “I heard something, but don’t quote me.”
She’s dressed in her usual bright red cardigan, hair coiffed to perfection, phone already in hand like it’s surgically attached. Her eyes find me immediately, widening with delight.
“Oh, Kate Prescott,” she says, lowering her voice in a way that guarantees everyone in the building will still hear. “You are never going to believe the morning I’ve had.”
I brace myself. “Hi, Haddie.”
She beams, practically vibrating with excitement. “Do you want to guess, or should I just tell you?”
“Just tell me.” I sigh, closing the book in front of me.
“Well,” she begins, leaning across the counter conspiratorially, “apparently your husband—and let me take this opportunity to properly say congratulations—paid a visit to a certain someone renting the old Miller property by the lake.”
My stomach drops. “Haddie—”
“Oh, I’m not finished,” she says, eyes sparkling. “There were sirens, Kate. Actual police cars. Lights, noise, the whole show! My daughter, Debbie—who lives right across the street—gave me a firsthand account that Cam Wells showed up at Daniel McMichael’s doorstep looking like a man on a mission.”
I can feel the color drain from my face. “He what?”
She nods, clearly thrilled to be the messenger of chaos. “Apparently there was yelling, a bit of posturing—you know, the usual manly nonsense—and then someone called the police. Word is Officer Callahan had to tell everyone to calm down before it turned into a full-blown Cedar Falls spectacle. I swear, this town hasn’t been this excited since the great bake-off scandal of 2019.”
I press a hand to my forehead, the beginnings of a headache forming. “Haddie, please tell me you’re exaggerating.”
She looks almost offended. “Kate Prescott, I never exaggerate. Embellish, maybe, but not exaggerate.”
Of course not.
I thank her with what I hope passes for a smile and manage to steer her toward the new arrivals shelf, leaving her to chat with Mrs. Dobson about lemon bars and moral integrity.
As soon as she’s out of earshot, I grab my phone from under the counter.
No messages. No calls. Nothing from Cam.
My stomach twists tighter. I knew he was angry—protective in that big, impossible way he makes so hot—but showing up at Daniel’s rental? Cops? Sirens?
God, what was he thinking?
This man, this beautiful, infuriating, loyal man stood up for me and Evie. He could’ve gotten arrested if Haddie’s version of the story is even half true. I exhale slowly, trying to decide if I want to strangle him or kiss him when I see him. Probably both.
The bell rings again as Haddie leaves, phone already pressed to her ear, no doubt spreading version two of the story before she even hits Main Street.
I glance back down at my phone.
Still nothing.
Then, just as I start to slide it back into my pocket, it buzzes.
Cam:
