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The town had gotten its name from the first prospector who’d come to this area. He’d been so certain he’d strike it rich he went broke trying to find the silver he was convinced would be here. It wasn’t until a geologist named Greg Hines got Elliot Montgomery involved that the silver deposit was discovered. Then Hard Luck turned into a boom town—until extracting the ore became too expensive and the mine shut down, at which point the name seemed appropriate again.

“I know.” He was probably a fool to risk his hard-earned savings—money it’d taken him years to earn. But he had to try. The motor inn had great bones, and he had a vision for it, was starting to get excited about the possibilities. “We’ll make it work.”

“Thank you,” she said and reached out to touch his arm.

He was pretty sure it was the first time they’d ever come into physical contact. She certainly hadn’t hugged him when he showed up out of nowhere, without any advance notice. He hadn’t expected her to. He’d been braced for anger and resentment, felt almost as if he was stealing something from her that he didn’t deserve. Had he known she’d be as kind and accepting as she’d been—and in need of his help—he probably would’ve come as soon as he got the letter.

Turning the motor inn around was a bit daunting and risky, but he found the challenge invigorating. He finally had something to work with, something of his own, and he planned to make the most of it.

He studied her for a moment, wishing his father had found Suzanne much earlier in life. If that’d happened, maybe things would’ve been different for him.

Chapter Nine

Patience couldn’t concentrate on her work. She kept thinking about Kanon and how fun and easy it’d been to talk to him last night.

“Did you hear me?”

Her father’s voice suddenly intruded on her thoughts, causing her to startle when she looked up and found him standing so close to her. She hadn’t heard him speak or even get up. She’d been scrolling through Kanon’s Instagram account, searching for information about how he’d lived before returning to Hard Luck, whom he’d associated with and the people commenting on his posts. She thought it might tell her more about who he’d turned out to be, but the clues were sparse. “I’m sorry,” she said to her father. “What’d you say?” She would’ve minimized the screen or closed out of it entirely, but it was too late. That would just make her look as if he’d caught her doing something wrong.

“I said I’m heading out to visit Mary Lopez—Jacob’s wife. You know that young couple who just had a baby? Jacob told me on Sunday that Mary’s been struggling with postpartum depression, so I thought I’d take her some fresh flowers to brighten her day and offer to watch the baby for a few hours while she naps or gets out of the house.”

“That’s really nice of you, Dad. The things you do are truly remarkable. But…babysitting? Wouldn’t you rather I do that?”

“No, I’d like to see her and the baby, make sure we don’t need to do more than give her a break.”

“You mean like…counseling? Medication? How will you determine that?”

He pointed up toward the ceiling. “With the good Lord’s help.”

“Right. Okay.” She always felt stupid when he answered that way because she wasn’t sure how to receive the inspiration he seemed to rely on so completely. “I’ll finish the accounting and get started on the monthly newsletter while you’re gone.”

“Sounds good.” He hesitated before gesturing at her screen. “What’s that?”

She didn’t want to lie to him, but she didn’t want to tell him the truth, either. She knew he’d only be alarmed by her interest in Kanon—unnecessarily alarmed since she already knew better than to get involved with him. “Kanon Kincaid designed the incentive card for the festival, and he did a great job. I was just looking through some of his other work.” She’d actually been skipping through his samples because she was more interested in anything that wasn’t work-related, but she figured what she’d said was enough of the truth.

“He’s an artist?”

“A graphic designer. He claims he’s an amateur, but he’s certainly a talented one. Look at what he did for the festival.” She called up the image she’d sent to the printer an hour ago, partially to distract her father from the fact that she’d been on Kanon’s Instagram page, which was certainly beyond the effort required to get things done for the festival. “What do you think?”

“I wouldn’t have expected that of him. How much did you have to pay him?”

“Nothing. He volunteered.”

“That’s nice,” he said but without any true conviction. It was going to take a lot more than supporting the festival to get Carl to change his mind about Kanon after how troubled Kanon had been in his youth. “I’ve got to get my hair cut before I go see Mary and the baby,” he said as he crossed the room to get his coat from the rack. “I could be gone for the rest of the afternoon.”

“Okay. I’ll cover the phones.”

“Forward them to me if you have to leave.”

“Will do.” She sighed in relief when he walked out, then clicked back to Kanon’s Instagram page. Kanon didn’t post often. When he did, it was almost always something he’d designed. But scrolling further back, she did find some pictures of him with various guys on an oil rig and one where he was cradling a rifle beside a downed buck. The only current photo depicted him with a young boy dressed in a baseball uniform. Several people had commented on that post, including a woman about their age. “He had so much fun today!” she’d written, making Patience think she had to be the boy’s mother.

So…was Kanon his father?

She enlarged the picture to study the features of the boy’s face. He didn’t look like Kanon, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

A text popped up from Ari. Patience had her devices paired so she could send and receive texts from her computer as well as her phone.

Got a message from Glenda asking if she can take me out for ice cream after school.