“She seems fine,” Holt said. “Although I’ve noticed the odd wince or slight wobble when she gets a little too energetic and then refuses to admit it.”
“It’s good you’re keeping an eye on her.” Mina tried hard to keep her tone neutral, but Holt heard the question in it and chose to ignore it.
“I don’t think June would agree that she needs someone keeping an eye on her,” Holt said.
“And how are you feeling, my son?” Mina lowered the compress just enough to look at him properly, ignoring his last remark. “Not how are you pretending to feel. How are you actually feeling?”
“There’s less pain,” Holt admitted. “I get some pulling if I move too quickly. I have another checkup with Lucy in a few days.”
“Best not to forget it either,” Mina ordered. “Or Lucy will probably show up wherever you are with her doctor’s kit at the ready.”
“I won’t forget,” Holt assured her. “And how could I with you here?”
He leaned down and kissed her forehead carefully, avoiding the compress. “Get some rest. I’ll check in on you later.”
“Thank you, son.” Mina’s expression softened. “And you all be safe out there today.”
“We will.” Holt smiled down at her. “I’ll call you later.”
He left her room and pulled the door, leaving it slightly open behind him.
By the time he got back downstairs, the kitchen had changed.
Holt stepped through the doorway and stopped.
Willa was there.
She stood near the table in jeans and a pale green T-shirt, one hand around a travel mug, the other adjusting the strap of a bag slung over her shoulder. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and she looked brisk and capable and already halfway through the day in spirit even though it had barely started. Holt also noted that Tyler was missing.
Willa smiled when she saw him. “Morning.”
“Morning.” Holt smiled back. “What brings you here this early?”
“I’m just here to collect Tyler,” Willa replied. “He’s going to a day camp in Ember Lake with my three and the Peltz sisters.”
Holt blinked. “They still have that camp?”
Willa’s smile widened. “They started it again about three years ago. It filled up in the first year, and now you have to book way in advance to get in.”
Holt let out a quiet laugh. “I used to love that camp. It was always popular.”
“It was stopped not long after…” Willa hesitated, her smile tightening slightly. “Ten years ago. But it was brought back by popular demand.”
Of course, it had been stopped after the fire.
So much in this town seemed to carry that pattern. Something broken. Something lost. Then, years later, some determined soul dragged it back into the light and insisted life keep going.
Tyler came into the kitchen then with a backpack hanging from one shoulder. Andy trailed right behind him, cheerful and half talking already, and Duchess bounded in at their heels with all the optimism of a dog who believed any gathering of humans clearly involved her.
Holt barely had time to greet Andy before Duchess looked up at Tyler with absolute confidence, and Tyler crouched to rub her ears.
“Not this time, girl,” he told the dog. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come.”
Duchess looked devastated.
Truly devastated.
If a basset hound had ever embodied betrayal, this was it.
