see justice done. Because he wanted to find his foster family, to see if they’d come to forgive him for a crime he didn’t commit in the first place.
Yes, he was guilty of never trying to contact them—their rejection had stung too much the first time to give them another chance to hurt him again—but surely the passage of years had lent them some sense of leniency.
He clenched his jaw, unwilling to answer her simple question. Simple. He almost laughed at the word. Nothing was ever simple.
Meggie chuckled, but the accompanying smile was far from happy. “I assume your return has something to do with your childhood buddy. Why are you looking for Chad?”
She’d whispered the name, but somehow it seemed to crash through the room like a wrecking ball. “No reason.”
“Right.”
He didn’t want it to be like this with Meggie. He wanted summer rains experienced from the shelter of a small cave. He wanted cool dips in the local swimming hole and long talks about the future as the sun braided the sky into a bluish-orange sunset. He wanted the girl who laughed in the face of anyone who dared call her “Witchy Poo.” But that girl was gone.
Meggie sighed, and he related to her frustration. He’d never suffered a tied tongue around her because she’d always understood him.
“Have you gone by your old home?”
Evidently, she’d given up her attempt to wheedle information out of him. “No one was there.”
“It’s too bad, you know. It used to be such a neat house, all comfy with those flower beds and the huge lawn. Now it’s just…”
Her eyes had gone all dark, almost like water from a Venetian canal, littered with so much beneath the surface. In all his travels, weighed by a rucksack and too many painful memories, he’d never seen a green like Meggie’s eyes. He’d done his damnedest to erase his memories after he’d earned his way through college, crossing Europe in second-class train cars, crashing night after night in youth hostels. But instead of filling his head with the beauty of new experiences, his adventures had only succeeded in feeding his hate for Spencer. After all, he’d never have run away from his real world if he hadn’t been thrown out in the first place.
All those roads he’d walked only led to one place— Kane’s Crossing. Back to a tiny, loving home he’d lived in for one shining year, enough time to know he was capable of having a chance to be loved by foster parents and a brother who would’ve hung the moon for his younger sibling.
He rehooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “What do you mean my house ‘used to be’ so cozy?”
“You don’t know?” Her eyes widened, teared up.
Nick shook his head, steeling himself for bad news.
“I thought somehow someone would’ve told you. Your foster parents died about five years ago.”
It felt as if an invisible force had jump-kicked him square in the chest. Stunned, he could only think to look away, to hide the pain he knew was marking his face like a bloody wound. Gone? He’d always meant to come back someday, to thank his foster parents for their glimmer of hope and acceptance. And now it was too late.
“How?” He hoped to God his voice had come out strong.
She paused. “There was an accident at the Spencer Factory. After your dad died there, your mom carried on for about a year longer. Then she caught pneumonia and—”
He held up a hand, stopping her explanation. Why had he asked for details? He should’ve known their deaths had something to do with Chad Spencer. The man dirtied every portion of Nick’s life.
Spencer would pay for this. In blood, if need be.
Meggie continued. “And I don’t know about Sam. Nobody’s heard from him since he left town. Some people say he became a cop in Washington, D.C., got married.” She paused. “He had steel in his eyes after your parents died. He blamed the Spencer Factory.”
So Sam was bitter, too. Nick remembered spending long nights with his foster brother, sitting on the roof of their home, talking about a world filled with beautiful girls and fast cars.
Maybe Sam would’ve even supported the plan Nick had created to ruin Chad Spencer’s life. He wished he could see his foster brother’s crooked grin again, to draw strength from its sticks-and-stones-may-break-my-bones slant.
He swallowed, collected himself for a moment. Hands fisting, he nodded at her rounded belly. “Are you carrying Spencer’s child?”
“That’s none of your damned business.” She stepped behind the counter again, grabbing a nearby cloth to wipe down the Formica counter. “It was great seeing you again, Nick. Feel free to leave.”
He stood there for a moment, wondering if he should let down his guard, explain to her why he was back in town. He wanted to ask if she’d married Spencer, but, from the sound of the teasing he’d heard earlier, he knew that wasn’t the case. In all likelihood, Meggie was going to be a single mother.
She’d betrayed Nick without even realizing it.
He waited for Meggie to say something else. Anything. Yet, except for the friction of cloth on the counter, there was only silence.
Nick slipped on his shades and walked toward Meggie. Her eyes grew wide, and she froze. Her fear felt like a slap to his ego. She’d never looked at him with wariness before today.
To hell with it. Why should he care if she’d gotten herself in trouble with a scumbag like Spencer? She was a big girl now, old enough to take care of her problems without Nick Cassidy galloping to her rescue.
He reached into his pocket and tossed the contents by her wash rag. A pile of bills. “For all the people my attitude chased out,” he said, turning around to leave.
She didn’t stop him, not that Nick expected her to. Coming into the bakery had been a bad idea, because now he knew more about Spencer than he ever wanted to.
Chad’s castoff.
He left the bakery, hating himself, hating Kane’s Crossing, yet hating what Chad Spencer had done to Meggie even more.
Chapter Two
M eg tried her best to stop shivering, but she couldn’t.
Nick Cassidy, here again. She hadn’t seen him since she was twelve, running around exploring abandoned houses with him, hiking along the length of train tracks to see where they led.
She pushed through the swinging door that led to the back of the bakery. There, she started to gather ingredients for some of her infamous chocolate cakes. Anything to keep her mind off Nick’s return to Kane’s Crossing.
She looked through the steam-shrouded window, catching a shape just outside.
Nick. Her gaze took a leisurely stroll over him—one she’d been too stunned to enjoy earlier.
He cast a long shadow in the dusty, autumn-leaf-strewn street, his black sunglasses barricading a gaze that seemed to be trained on the sign above
