When Connie waved her into the kitchen, Aftyn followed and told her everything, showing her the photo.
Connie studied it, nodding slowly. “You know, the first day you came in I thought you looked familiar but couldn’t place why. Now I know.” She sighed. “She came in looking for work, but she couldn’t seem to concentrate. Kept glancing at the door like she was expecting someone to walk through it.”
Aftyn took a breath and told her the rest. What Avery had taken, what she’d done to their aunt, the history with Judd. Connie listened without interrupting, her expression moving from surprise to quiet anger on Aftyn’s behalf.
“Timeless Treasures and here are the only two places that have seen her,” Aftyn said. “I have to find her, Connie. Family or not, what she did was wrong. And it’s not about Judd. I couldn’t care less about him. It’s Avery I’m after. I want her to know her days of hurting people are over.”
“Some people just take and take,” Connie said. “I understand completely.”
Aftyn hugged her. “Thank you. I’m going to head home, do some laundry, and rest until Monday.”
“Have you talked to Sam about this?”
“I told him about it. I’ll talk to him next.”
“Do that. He’ll do everything he can. But you’ll have to press charges when she’s caught.”
“I know. I hate it, but she can’t keep doing this.”
Connie squeezed her hand. “You need a night out.Do something good for yourself.”
Aftyn smiled. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t know how to act.”
“We’ll see you Monday.” Connie nodded toward the back. “You can head out the service door.”
“I appreciate that.” Aftyn pushed it open, stepped out into the alley, and smiled when she heard the lock turn behind her.
She climbed the stairs, unlocked the door, and set her purse on the kitchen counter. Sneakers off, she padded to the bathroom to gather her dirty clothes.
Connie was right. She did need a night out. But she didn’t know Clifton well enough yet to know where she’d even go, and going anywhere alone wasn’t happening. The other women at the diner were married. They’d rather spend a Saturday night with their husbands than babysit the new girl.
She loaded the washer with her whites and headed back to the living room, perfectly content to be lazy for the rest of the day.
****
The late-afternoon sun hammered the corrugated metal roof, turning the air inside the barn into a wavering mirage. Cole stepped out of the stall, his T-shirt plastered to his back. He yanked off his straw hat and slapped it against his thigh, watching a cloud of grit drift away. The heat was brutal and wrestling a stubborn gelding all day had him cussing under his breath.
He ached to shed his sweat-drenched clothes, stand under a scorching shower until the grime and tension rinsed away, then collapse into a quiet evening. Over a year ago he’d carved out Sundays ashis one day off, no training colts, no tending the barley or golden peas for Beckett Feed. Forced rest had been foreign at first. Now it was sacred. His brothers had followed suit, and every Sunday night they gathered at their parents’ house for a big, boisterous dinner. Cole looked forward to it all week.
He kicked the dirt from his boots on the steps and pushed open the back door. Ollie bolted across the kitchen, skidded to a stop, and grinned up at him. Cole crouched and ran a hand through the golden coat. “You feel this heat too, huh, buddy?” Ollie promptly flopped onto his back, paws in the air. Cole laughed and obliged, scratching until the dog’s tail thumped against the floor, then straightened and headed for the bathroom.
The shower worked miracles on his sore shoulders. Steam curled through the air while he lathered up and shaved away the day’s stubble. After toweling off he pulled on a faded gray T-shirt he’d had forever and a pair of threadbare sweatpants. In the kitchen, the refrigerator light revealed nothing he wanted.
He glanced at the wall clock. Seven-fifteen. “Shit,” he muttered, and decided to head to the diner for a burger. But he knew the truth. His craving had less to do with food and more to do with hoping to see Aftyn.
He shook his head. He’d thought Callie was irreplaceable, but since she’d left, the pain had dulled until he no longer felt it. Maybe it was time to let someone new in. But Aftyn wasn’t here for the long haul, and she’d leave him too. He sighed, changed into a black T-shirt, tugged on his jeans and boots, and snagged his clean white straw hat from the rack by the door.
The diner bell jingled as he stepped inside. A few locals lingered over coffee in one corner, the rest of the room mostly tourists in jeans and sun hats. He offered a friendly nod and slid onto a stool at the counter.
“Evening, Cole.” Connie smiled. “Same as always?”
“Sure thing. No hurry.” He dropped his elbows on the counter, breathing in frying onions and fresh coffee.
While he waited he spun on the stool to survey the room and caught the eye of three women in a corner booth. They looked away, cheeks pink. Cole tipped his hat in their direction, a slow grin spreading across his face.
When Connie set the plate before him he leaned in, savoring the smell of melted cheddar and sizzling beef. The fries were crisp at the edges and soft inside. He picked up the burger and groaned at the first bite, rich and savory. Reached for a fry and bit down with a satisfied crunch.
Connie slid a tall glass of water in front of him. “Everything good?”
