four

If ever she needed a cup of hot coffee, it was today. Hannah resisted the urge to rub the sleep out of her eyes as she slammed the door of her car. She walked toward the diner as she pulled out her phone and checked her messages. Still no leads on the Ferguson house. Her shin rammed into something solid, sending a sharp pain up her leg.

She caught her balance and rubbed her leg. “Hello, Otis. Decide to stake out the diner for a while? A little warning next time might be nice.”

Hannah sidestepped the hippo and pushed through the door of Donny’s. The scent of hamburgers and chili filled the air, bringing a rumble to her stomach. Maybe she should stay for dinner. She slid behind the counter and reached for a mug. A benefit of being the niece—no waiting.

She’d been up past midnight brainstorming ideas to save the town but still had nothing. How was she going to get the town behind a worthy project if they had no project?

“Mind topping me off?” Al Mathis’s gravelly voice shook her out of her thoughts. His scruffy gray beard had grown to the point that it now hid his familiar toothy smile.

She filled up his mug, passed two sugars in his direction, and leaned a hip against the counter. “How’s retirement?”

“Short-lived.” He lifted his cup, the steam rising in front of his face. “I’m doing PI work these days.”

“Is there a large market for that in Heritage?”

“Nah. Most of it’s out-of-town work.” His eyes softened as he studied her. “If there’s anything you need, anything at all, you let me know. Your daddy and I served on the force for twenty years together. That makes us nearly family.” He pulled out a card and slid it to her across the counter.

Hannah swallowed down a sharp lump as memories of her dad and Al laughing together at this very counter floated through her mind. She nodded, picked up the card, and dropped it in her purse. “Thanks.”

“Hannah darlin’, can we get fresh coffee over here?” The jovial voice of Harold Jameson, town mayor, was unmistakable. That, and he was the only one who ever referred to her as Hannah darlin’. He’d been doing it since he’d started meeting for coffee with her father every Tuesday back when she was four years old.

Hannah made her way over to the table, coffeepot in hand. “Evening, gentlemen.”

The mayor lifted his cup to her. His smile, which was tucked behind a thick mustache, doubled his round chin. “Thank you.”

Another cup slid toward her. “Sell any houses lately?”

Dale Kensington. He looked so much like his son, only the black hair had aged to more of a salt-and-pepper, and the blue eyes weren’t so much cocky and harmless as calculating and shrewd. Her hand tightened on the handle of the pot, but she added some of the fresh brew to his mug as well. “Nope. Destroy anyone’s legacy lately?”

He leaned back and drew a sip, keeping his eyes on her. “You have me all wrong. Or maybe you’re just sensitive about the Fergusons selling to me.”

Warmth drained from her limbs. He had to be lying. They had an appointment with her tomorrow.

A smile tugged at his lips. “Hadn’t you heard? I bought the property this morning.”

“How could you?” Her voice cracked, and it took all her strength not to dump the whole pot on him.

“I gave them a more-than-fair price—just like I’ll offer a fair price for my new town project.” He motioned to a map sitting on the table. Wait, was that supposed to be Heritage? Heritage with a strip mall in the center?

The mayor looked up from his coffee and smoothed the little bit of comb-over that he had left. “Nothing is final yet. We’re just considering options. This has seemed like the best option. But your aunt told us you’ve got a great new idea for the town.”

“Did she?” She forced a smile. So much for the surprise factor. Thanks a lot, Aunt Lucy. Not to mention she’d only read about the contest three days ago. She was not prepared for a meeting.

“Tell us about it. Unofficially, of course.” The mayor offered her a wink.

Unofficially? A lot was done in this small town unofficially. She’d thought they’d have learned after her mother, but Heritage tended to run things “small town” through and through.

“If the Manor were restored—”

“Can’t afford it.” The mayor shook his head. “We’ve looked into it. Can’t even afford to tear it down. Any other ideas?”

“I’m working on it.”

Kensington shook his head and added a packet of sugar to his coffee. “What we need is new, modern, commercial.”

Hannah set the pot down on the table hard enough to splash some of the black liquid over the edge. “We need to restore the history of this town, not build a new one with discount stores and strip malls.”

The mayor grabbed a napkin and dropped it on the spill. “We’d all like that, Hannah, but the money just isn’t there.”

“And we have the money for a strip mall?”

“There’s an investor who’d back that project.” He focused on his mug.

No doubt Dale Kensington was using his brother’s company as this investor. “The prize money is 250,000 dollars. Think of all the good that money could do for this town. Money we could decide how to spend, rather than an investor.”

“That would be something, wouldn’t it?” The mayor gazed off into space as he took a long drink of his coffee.

Kensington smirked and shook his head. “But winning that prize is a long shot.”

“A long shot, but not impossible.” Hannah snatched up the pot again, her fingers pressing into the plastic handle. “I’ll have a plan all laid out for the meeting.”

Mayor Jameson nodded as his brown eyes lost a bit of their usual joy. “We’d like nothing more than to do this, Hannah, but only if you can come up with a solid idea and at a cost this town can afford. Perhaps you should sit down with Kensington here. He has a business mind for things.”

“Why would you want to hang out with an old guy like my dad?” An arm dropped on her shoulder as Derek smiled down into her face. The aroma of his expensive cologne surrounded her. “I have a business degree. I’ll help you out.” Leaning closer, he added in a low voice, “I’m not the ogre my dad is.”

She shrugged off Derek’s arm with a laugh and stepped back. He was paying way too much attention to her lately. “I’ll keep that in mind. Gentlemen.” She nodded at the group, set the pot back on the counter, and grabbed her coat. So much for catching dinner here.

She needed space. To breathe. To think. To come up with a plan. She pushed out the door and marched toward her car. She pulled her phone out and texted Janie that she was on her way, then tapped Luke’s name as she climbed in.

Luke answered on the third ring. “Hey, Hannah.”

“Mr. Kensington might as well be named Mr. Kingsington.” She flipped on the heat but was greeted with a frigid blast. She pulled out of the parking lot, heading west of town.

“What happened?”

“He wants to drop a strip mall in the center of town. Right in the middle of the historic district.” Hannah whipped the car down a dirt road. Janie really did live in the middle of nowhere.

“We have a historic district?”

“The old buildings in the middle of town.”

“The condemned ones?”

“Not all of them are condemned. Those houses could be great again. But it gets worse.” Hannah swerved around a puddle. The weather had taken its toll on this road. Monster truck arenas would be an easier place to navigate.

“Worse?”

“The mayor suggested I work with Kensington of all people.” Her hand flew into the air but she grabbed the wheel again. “I don’t need his help. I don’t need anyone’s help.”

Hannah swerved back and forth, doing her best to avoid the worst of the road. But the brights weren’t working on her car and the road disappeared into darkness twenty feet out.

Pothole. Rut. Pothole. Dog.

DOG!

Hannah slammed on the brakes. The car slid on the mud and slush and drifted to the left. Move, doggie! “No!”

“Hannah?”

Her phone had dropped into her lap as she white-knuckled the steering wheel. Why wasn’t the dog moving? She’d almost come to a stop . . .

Bump.

Oh no. Did she really hit a dog?

“Answer me!” The faint voice traveled up from her phone.

She picked it up. “Luke.” Her voice came out squeaky and unrecognizable. “I need your help.”

Hannah had assured him that he didn’t need to call 911, but a thousand-pound weight still lifted from Luke’s chest when he turned the corner and her car sat in the road and not wrapped around a tree. He hopped out of his truck and approached. Hannah sat perched behind the steering wheel, and a dog lay in front of her car. She hadn’t run over it.

He knocked on her window and waited as she rolled it down. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you answer when I called you back?”

She held up her phone. “Battery died.”

Why could she never remember to charge her phone?

He stepped back to the front of the car, knelt down to get a closer look, and coughed against the foul odor rolling off the dog. It had the face of a Lab but the coloring and ears of a shepherd. Its chest moved up and down in a slow but steady motion.

Super. Now what? He couldn’t leave it to suffer, but he didn’t relish having to put down an animal in front of Hannah, or at all for that matter.

He peeked at her again. Her mouth dropped open as she hopped out of her car. “Is it still alive?”

“Why don’t you—”

“Let’s take it to the vet.”

“The vet? It has no collar. It’s skin and bones, half frozen, and probably full of disease. This isn’t someone’s pet. It was close to death when you hit it—if you hit it. The thing could’ve fallen over on its own. It might be best if we . . .”

Tears clung to her lower lids. He couldn’t say it. He didn’t even want to think it. But what was the alternative? This animal could be feral and maybe even rabid. It didn’t look as though it was long for this world, so why make it suffer a long car ride only to die upon arrival? Wouldn’t putting it out of its misery be more humane?

She fisted her hands at her sides. “Just because it’s seen better days doesn’t mean it’s worth giving up on.”

“Hannah—”

She held up her hand. “We’re taking it to the vet. I know you aren’t one to get attached, but do you really want to off the dog because it needs a bath?” She opened the trunk of her car and started rummaging around inside.

Not get attached? He was here, wasn’t he? And he wasn’t trying to off the dog. He was trying to protect her. Didn’t she see how dangerous this could be?

Hannah returned to his side with a blanket in hand. She laid it on the dog and started to wrap it around the body. The dog, although skinny, had to weigh over forty pounds. Not to mention it could wake up any minute, and then where would she be? Who knew what diseases might be just one bite away?

“Give me that.” Luke knelt down and finished arranging the blanket for her. He lifted the dog from the ground, eyeing the bundle for any movement. He carried it to the bed of his truck and laid it inside.

Hannah pointed to the passenger seat.

“No way. I’m not having a feral dog wake up next to me as I’m driving down the road.”

Hannah walked toward her car. “Fine, but I’m riding with you.” She ran to her car, pulled it to the side of the road, and turned on her flashers.

Luke pulled out his phone and sent a message to dispatch that he’d be out of the area. He’d been trying to be available as much as he could. He needed to look fully committed if he had any chance at the job. But Hannah’s safety was more important.

“Can I borrow that?” Hannah reached for his phone. As soon as he handed it over, she hopped in his truck. Probably calling ahead.

For her sake, he hoped the dog would be okay. But then she’d be faced with the problem of what to do with it. No way could she keep a dog in her apartment.

The animal still hadn’t moved by the time they arrived at the vet. Not a good sign.

“You grab the dog. I’ll hold the door.” Hannah was out of the car by the time he had his truck in Park.

Luke picked up the dog and carried it inside. Half the lights were off and the gray reception desk sat empty. Hannah rang the bell and snatched up the check-in clipboard.

“Luke Johnson? Is that you?” A silky-smooth voice filled the room. Chin-length black hair, heavy makeup, and low-cut blouse.

This couldn’t be happening. “Cindy . . . I didn’t know you worked here.” He didn’t even have to look at Hannah to know her eyes were burning into the back of his skull.

“It’s a new job since Ray and I split.” Her lips twisted and she dropped her chin. “But there’s an upside. I can date again.” She leaned closer and tapped her black fingernail on his left hand, which still held the dog. Her perfume wafted toward him, competing with the stench of the dog. “I see you’re still single. Maybe I should see if they’re hiring at the lumberyard. You still working there? We had a few good times working together. Remember?”

Good times? He wasn’t sure he’d call them that, but he did remember. Only because a certain brunette wouldn’t let him forget. He drew a breath and chanced a peek at Hannah. Big mistake. He’d underestimated the fury that could pour out of two normally beautiful hazel eyes.

He stepped between the women, blocking Hannah’s view of Cindy. “The dog is kind of heavy. And stinks. Where can I lay it?”

Hannah stepped around him and slapped the clipboard on the counter.

Cindy blinked at Hannah. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you. You went to school with us too, right? Anna, wasn’t it?”

“Hannah.”

“Of course, my mistake.” Cindy picked up the clipboard and glanced over it.

Luke could see that Hannah had put her and Luke’s names down as contacts. But she’d left his number blank—no, viciously crossed out.

Cindy’s chin dropped again as she fixed her eyes first on him, then on Hannah, then back to him. “Are you two an item now?”

Hannah shrugged and laid a possessive hand on his arm. Her warmth soaked through his sleeve and climbed up his arm. He stared at it a moment, uncertain of what she might do next and even more uncertain of what he wanted her to do next.

He glanced at her face. The women were having a stare down and this was nothing more than a power play. He took a half step back and her hand dropped off his arm. “Where can I put this dog?”

“Carry it back to the first room on your left.” Cindy held the door for him before disappearing behind a set of swinging white doors.

Luke blinked against the bright lights of the room. A large metal table sat in the middle, a sink in one corner, and a few chairs off to the side. He placed the dog on the exam table as Hannah entered behind him.

“Cindy hasn’t changed much,” she mumbled.

Luke walked over to the sink and added a generous amount of soap to his hands. He scrubbed up to his elbows, letting the fresh smell replace the dog stench left behind. “Neither have you, it seems.” He reached for a towel, then another.

“What do you mean by that?”

“What was that out there? Or am I wrong and we really are an item now, which would be interesting news to me. But hey, I’ll go with it.” He tossed the paper towel into the trash and stepped toward her until she was forced to take a step back.

The confidence evaporated from her face. “I . . . I never said that.”

“You didn’t deny it. So maybe I should assume . . .” He took another step, backing her into the wall.

Her wide eyes searched his face. He’d started this as a joke. Something to teach her a lesson not to use him like that. But now that he stood inches away, his plan grew blurry as he was thrust back to the last time they’d been this close.

He leaned closer. The only things left in focus were her wide hazel eyes and cute freckled nose. When her gaze slid to his lips, his heartbeat doubled in volume.

Cindy popped her head into the room. “Dr. Gascho will be right in.”

Hannah ducked under his arm and hustled over to the dog, leaving her back to him. “Did you get that box open?”

He sank into the nearest chair. What was that? He’d nearly kissed her. Kissed her until they both forgot why it hadn’t worked last time. Adrenaline still rushed through his veins, but who knew if it was from relief or disappointment.

They’d always had an unspoken no-touching rule. Now it seemed that had been a good plan.

Luke lifted his head. Hannah stared at him. Waiting. Had she asked him something? Right—the box. “Just some papers of Mrs. Shoemaker’s.”

“Bummer.” She leaned against the wall and stared at the dog. “I was sure it was going to be something more exciting.”

Like his birth certificate that contradicted the only memory he had of his mother? He should tell her about that. Why didn’t he? Why couldn’t he get the words past his lips?

He would tell her. Later. After he had more answers. He ran a rough hand through his hair. “What are you going to do with the dog if it lives?”

She spun around and looked at him, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip.

He knew that look. “I’m not taking the dog.”

Madison didn’t get it, but he had to help Aunt Lucy and Uncle Donny. Thomas parallel parked in front of the diner and hopped out of his car. Never hurt to be a little early. He also hadn’t wanted to stay and listen to Madison shout at him anymore. She may not want him to take this job now, but when he could afford to take her out again she’d change her tune. Not that he’d have much time to go out.

Besides, this was his one opportunity to do what he’d always wanted. Which was why the offer had plagued his thoughts all week. No doubt once he was married, nothing but a corner office at a high-profile company would please Madison. But that was fine with him. He’d gotten used to tossing his dreams aside for reality—that was what growing up was all about. But today he’d live his dream.

Thomas slowed as he approached the diner. Then there was the fact he’d have to work with Olivia day after day. He could only take so many glares. Maybe it would be different with him being the boss and all. But knowing Olivia, probably not. Not that he blamed her. Just as long as Janie didn’t visit often.

He’d managed to avoid her since her return. Both for her sake and his. This was one occasion where the tight fit of a small town wasn’t to his liking. In a city, the chances of crossing paths with an ex were slim.

He pushed through the door and scanned the room. No Olivia. See, the night was on his side.

Aunt Lucy’s face lit up as she greeted him. “You don’t know how glad I was to get your call. We can’t thank you enough.”

“My pleasure. So, what’s first?”

His aunt’s eyes darted about the room. “Why don’t you take a seat in the corner booth? The baker should be here soon.”

She swallowed and glanced at Uncle Don, who’d stepped up beside her. Thomas’s eyebrows shot up as his uncle turned away with a chuckle.

That was weird.

Thomas made his way to the booth. His phone rang as he slid in, and he pulled it out. Madison. He tapped the screen. “Madison, listen—”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was soft. Had she been crying?

“What?”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” Her voice hitched. “You’re right to help your aunt and uncle. Just promise me when this is all over, we’ll leave.”

Thomas rubbed his hand over his face. Few people really understood Madison’s need to start new. But being the daughter of the town bum couldn’t be easy. Growing up under the stigma of his mother’s “legacy” had been hard enough. “It’s only for a couple months, Madison. It won’t change anything.”

“Promise?”

His heart pinched. “Promise.”

“Thank you, Thomas.”

“For what?”

“I know I can be . . . difficult. But you seem to be one person I can depend on.”

Thomas swallowed. Whether it was his idea or not, their engagement was a good thing. She needed him, and he’d be the kind of husband she needed. “I’ll always be there for you, babe.” A figure approached from the corner of his vision. “I gotta go.”

“Okay, bye. Love you.”

“Love yo—” The words died on his lips. Janie stood next to the booth.

“Tommy?” All the tenderness in Madison’s voice had disappeared.

He cringed at the nickname and turned away before he mumbled into the phone, “Love you too, bye.”

He turned back, but the unshed tears that formed in Janie’s eyes testified that she’d heard him. He clenched his fists under the table. He hated hurting her, but she’d never have the future she wanted with him.

Janie blinked back the tears and glanced around before sliding into the booth across from him. “Hello, Thomas.”

“Welcome back. How was Paris?” Could they sound more formal? This was Janie, his best friend for nearly a quarter of his life, and they talked as if they were strangers.

“Fine.” She looked anywhere but at him.

“Fine?” He’d talked with her for countless hours as she planned the trip, the places she should see, the people she’d meet, and all he got was fine?

“Fine.” She leveled her stare at him. “I hear congratulations are in order. How is Madison?”

His gut twisted as he swallowed. “Fine.”

Okay, perhaps fine was an appropriate response for the time. Could this be more awkward? Why had she even sat with him?

He could have kissed his aunt when she appeared next to the table. Her gaze darted from him to Janie and back again as she twisted her fingers in front of her. “I know this may be awkward. But we’re all adults and this is business.”

Janie appeared as lost as he was.

“I think you’re going to have to spell it out for them.” Uncle Don walked up and gave her a squeeze around the shoulders before moving toward the register.

Spell it out? Thomas darted one more look at Janie. They wouldn’t.

“Thomas, Janie is your baker. Janie, Thomas is the chef and manager.” His aunt released a breath as if the information had been bursting to get out.

“I don’t think—”

“There’s no way—”

Thomas and Janie spoke as one, but Aunt Lucy held up both hands. “Listen. You’re both adults, you both need jobs, and Don and I both need you. I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you romantically, but this isn’t about that. Can we all agree to be grown-ups?”

Thomas glanced at Janie, who nibbled at her lip with her teeth. Her telltale sign she was ready to bolt. Not that he could blame her. But if she left, where would that leave Aunt Lucy and Uncle Donny? Or him? There was no way he could do this on his own.

His aunt didn’t have a mean or manipulative bone in her body. She’d never have put him in this position unless there was no other option. And she had a point. He didn’t know Janie’s situation, but he needed a job, and if Janie was looking, the pickings were slim in town.

“Okay.” Thomas somehow kept the waver from his voice.

Both of the women turned wide eyes on him. “Okay?”

He turned to his aunt. “You need us. We need jobs. No matter how I feel about it, there’s only one option.”

Janie studied him across the table, then looked at Aunt Lucy. “I guess he’s right. I’ll . . . do it. I mean, how bad could it be?”

Thomas locked eyes with her before he darted his gaze away. Right. How bad could it be? “It’s only two months, right?”

“Yes. Probably.” Aunt Lucy clapped her hands together. “Janie, why don’t you come with me, and Uncle Don will be back in a minute to go over the books and purchasing with you, Thomas.”

The women disappeared into the kitchen.

What had he just agreed to? It was bad enough to get a taste of half of his dream, but working side by side with Janie? He rested his elbows on the table and dropped his head in his hands.

Then there was Madison. She was not going to be pleased with this turn of events.