two attorneys turned and walked away, he stepped up to the counter.
“Can I help you?”
He glanced from the tempting variety of sweets in the glass-fronted display case to the even more tempting woman behind the counter, and awareness hummed in his veins. Or maybe he’d just imagined the sensation. Maybe what he’d felt was simply relief that here, finally, was someone who didn’t know him or his history. Because the gorgeous blonde with wide blue eyes wasn’t anyone from his past. If he’d met her before, he was certain he would have remembered.
She followed up the question with a smile, drawing his gaze to the curve of her glossy pink lips. Yeah, her mouth looked a lot sweeter than the glazed doughnuts for sale, but he’d come back to Rust Creek Falls for one reason and it wasn’t to enjoy the local sights—no matter how pretty they might be.
“Coffee,” he suddenly remembered. “Large. Black.”
Those beautiful blue eyes sparkled with humor. “For here or to go?”
“To go.”
She selected a tall paper cup, filled it from the pot then snapped on a lid.
“Thanks.” He passed her his money in exchange for the beverage.
She smiled at him again. “You’re welcome.”
* * *
“Large café mocha with extra whipped cream.”
Eva Armstrong regretfully shifted her attention from the backside of the handsome cowboy making his way to the door to her next customer. Ellie Traub was a regular who always ordered an old-fashioned glazed along with her large mocha and carried both to a table where she’d sit with Mary and Rita Dalton—sisters-in-law by marriage—and chat about all the comings and goings in town.
“That Luke Stockton sure grew up to be a handsome man,” Ellie commented.
Eva mentally assigned the name to the cowboy, satisfied that it fit—even if it didn’t answer any of the questions racing through her brain.
“Of course, they were all good-looking boys,” Ellie continued.
“Who?” Eva asked.
“Luke, Bailey and Daniel. And Jamie, too, of course.”
She used the tongs to select a doughnut from the case and set it on a plate. “I didn’t remember that Jamie had so many brothers.”
The older woman nodded. “Rob and Lauren had seven kids altogether—four boys and three girls.”
Eva punched the order into the cash register.
“And then, when they died in that accident...” Ellie let the words trail off as she shook her head. “Of course, you were probably too young to remember that. It was close to a dozen years ago now.”
Twelve years meant that Eva would have been thirteen when they died. And now that she had the reference of a timeline, she did vaguely recall hearing about a car accident that resulted in the deaths of a local rancher and his wife and orphaned their children. In fact, one of the daughters, Bella, had been a year behind Eva in school.
She handed the customer’s change across the counter. “Have a good day, Mrs. Traub.”
“Thanks,” Ellie said, and carried her mug and plate away from the counter.
Eva turned with a smile to the next customer in line but was admittedly distracted by thoughts of Luke Stockton. In fact, she felt a little dazed after the brief encounter with the handsome cowboy, as if she’d been hit over the head with a sack of flour.
Of course, she had a habit of falling hard and fast—and always for the wrong men. But no matter how many times her heart ended up bruised, she refused to give up hope. Just like the fairy-tale princess who believed that someday her prince would come, Eva believed that her soul mate was out there somewhere.
Or maybe, just maybe, he was right here in Rust Creek Falls now.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur. The doughnut shop did a brisk business, which kept her hands busy but didn’t prevent her mind from speculating about the new man in town.
“You trying to rub the Formica right off that table?” asked a voice behind her.
Eva glanced back at Tracie, the cook who worked the lunch shift. “I guess my mind was wandering,” she admitted as she dropped the cloth onto the tray filled with plates and cups that she’d already cleared away.
“Maybe it could wander back to the kitchen and get started making a lemon meringue pie.”
“I thought apple and coconut were on the menu today.”
Tracie nodded. “But I got a call-in order for a lemon meringue.” She looked at the slip where she’d written the customer’s name and number. “Lydia Grant. She’s making dinner for her fiancé tonight and apparently lemon meringue pie is his favorite.”
Eva knew that, of course. Because Lydia’s fiancé was Zach Dalton, a rancher who had recently moved to Rust Creek Falls with his father and siblings after the devastating loss of his mother in a house fire.
Unlike so many men, Zach was a traditional kind of guy who wanted to get married and have children. In fact, he was so determined that he’d even advertised in the Gazette for a woman who was an excellent cook and homemaker and loved kids, dogs and horses.
Eva had gone on a few dates with Zach before he’d fallen in love with Lydia—who didn’t have any of the traits that he’d claimed to be looking for in a wife. Now Eva, who had fulfilled all of his requirements—at least on paper—was being enlisted to make Zach’s favorite pie for his future wife to serve to him.
As she carried the tray of dirty dishes to the kitchen, she acknowledged that this was only the most recent in a string of romantic disappointments.
But her heart wasn’t heavy as she began to measure the ingredients for the pastry. Because she wasn’t thinking about Zach and Lydia’s engagement—she was thinking about the return to Rust Creek Falls of sexy cowboy Luke Stockton.
* * *
Luke sat in his truck in the parking lot outside Just Us Kids Day Care Center. Somewhere inside the brick building with the colorful sign that looked as if it had been written in thick crayon by a first grader, his sister was waiting for him. He took another minute to finish his coffee as he continued to sit and stare at the double doors that would take him from the present to his past.
He lifted the cup to his lips and let his gaze shift to the fenced-in play area where a group of kids, bundled up in thick snowsuits, hats, mittens and boots, were playing in the deep snow. Despite the frigid temperatures, they were laughing and giggling and having a great time. He didn’t know how old they were—three? four?—but watching them reminded him of Bella when she’d been a similar age.
As a child, she’d had seemingly endless energy and enthusiasm, and she’d found joy in every aspect of life. Of course, that was a lot of years before their parents were killed, sucking all the joy out of all their lives.
Before he
