Tara poked her head out.
“Wish me luck,” Addie called to no one in particular as she grabbed the baker’s box and headed toward the kitchen. After wading through the crowd again, she finally reached the doors and, well past formalities, pushed them open with her shoulders. Some of the crowd’s noise was muffled back here.
She froze. Tara was definitely busy—with the help, it seemed. Morgan had her wrapped in his arms, and Tara was returning his kiss with everything she had. Addie blushed, then cleared her throat as loudly as she could.
Tara pulled away, her cheeks flushed. “I was just helping Morgan with his—uh—apron.” She finished tying the white strings around the big man’s waist.
Morgan laughed and reached for the coffee carafes on the burner nearby. “Gotta earn my keep,” he said as he turned through the doors with a familiar swagger.
“Thanks,” Tara called after him.
“I’m not asking what the thanks was for,” Addie teased and set the box on the prep counter. “Here’s a double batch of cookies.” She said it as nonchalantly as she could.
“Oh, Addie. Thank you.” Tara stopped what she was doing and gave Addie a hug. “You’re the best.”
“Order up,” Earl, the short-order cook, called through the pass-through, pulling Tara back to work.
“I know you’re busy. We’ll talk soon. Promise.” Addie left the kitchen before she distracted her sister any more.
Customers were slowly trickling out, contented smiles on their faces, as the waitresses seated another wave. Addie knew the staff, as well as their harried expressions. Staying out of their way, she headed to her family’s table.
“Addie?” She didn’t quite recognize the woman’s voice that called out to her. Addie looked around until she found the sheriff, Dutch Ferguson, and his wife, Elizabeth, seated at a table a row away. Elizabeth waved.
Addie shivered as she looked at them. She couldn’t ignore the older couple, and to be honest, she loved them dearly. But so much came with them. Memories. Shadows. Pain.
Elizabeth had never recovered from that long-ago night. Even now, in this boisterous, laughter-filled restaurant, a sad aura surrounded her. Addie gave the woman a hug, and felt the thin bones of her shoulders. “Hello, Elizabeth. Dutch.”
Addie felt an obligation to them. They’d almost been her family, after all. Their son—Cal’s image came painfully to mind—had been their only child, and her first love. He’d been so young. So handsome. So long ago. She swallowed the pain that threatened to choke her. Almost didn’t count, except in horseshoes and hand grenades, her daddy used to say.
Addie looked at Dutch, and while his smile was broad, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Uh-oh. She made a mental note to stop by their house before she returned to Austin to make sure they didn’t need anything.
“It’s good to see you, Addie.” Dutch gave her a brief hug. “Can you join us?”
“Sure, for just a minute. How are you doing?” As she sat, she aimed the question at Dutch, knowing he’d be the one to answer. Elizabeth seldom spoke. The last couple of times Addie had visited with her, she’d noticed changes. Subtle, but probably more obvious to her since she wasn’t around Elizabeth all the time.
She recalled Dutch’s words from that day. “She’s slipping further and further away.”
“We’re doing fine,” he answered, smiling at Elizabeth. “Aren’t we, hon?”
“Yes. Yes. So nice to get out.”
“Tara’s done a fine job with this place.” Dutch smiled. A big, gruff man, he was exactly what Addie had expected of a small-town sheriff. He’d lived his entire life in Haskins Corners, and he was as much a staple here as this diner.
“Yeah, things were a little uncertain there for a while. The floodwaters were pretty wicked.”
“Water’s evil,” Elizabeth whispered, a venom in her voice that Addie understood. She looked at Dutch. He frowned, and the brief shake of his head told her not to follow that line of conversation. Addie was more than happy to leave it.
“Looks like everyone’s here.” Dutch nodded toward the big table in back. “Lots of change in the Hawkins clan.”
“Yeah.” Addie glanced over her shoulder at the overflowing table of her siblings, then laughed. “And then some. The family is growing so quickly.” She hated the wistfulness in her voice. Addie chose not to analyze that too much. “I’d better get back.”
“Come visit when you can,” he offered.
Elizabeth looked up from her meal and smiled. “Yes. Come visit.”
“I will. I promise.” She gave them each a hug, holding on to Dutch just a bit longer, as if maybe he could use a little encouragement. Being Elizabeth’s husband couldn’t always be easy. But he obviously loved her. He patted Addie’s hand that rested on his shoulder in silent thanks.
Addie glanced at Elizabeth and saw so much of Cal in her. Same color hair—except now Elizabeth’s dark hair was going gray. Same eyes. Same jawline.
Sometimes it hurt to look at Elizabeth.
Right now, Addie didn’t want to remember. Even the good times they’d shared hurt. There weren’t ever going to be any more. Thankfully, time had dulled the edge of that knife, and she could bear the hurt. Almost.
Suddenly, a strong arm slipped around her shoulders, and she yelped. Wyatt’s familiar hug surprised her. “Stop fretting, Ad,” he whispered in her ear.
“I’m not—fretting.” She frowned at him.
“Yeah, you are.” He gave her a brief kiss on top of her head. “But we love you for it.” He guided her to the table, where the waitresses had brought several plates of appetizers. Addie grabbed a potato skin that should taste amazing. It tasted like dust. She didn’t have enough energy left to enjoy the flavor.
Dutch and Elizabeth got up from their table, and Addie watched as he guided his wife to the register. While he paid the bill, Elizabeth looked around, confused, then finally took Dutch’s arm. Relief covered her face as he guided her outside.
“Addie.” Wyatt stared across the table at her. Just as he recognized her mother-hen mode, she recognized his dad mode. They’d spent way too much time taking care of their younger siblings.
She closed her eyes for an instant. “I’m fine, Wyatt,” she said, opening her eyes again and meeting his concerned gaze.
“I saw the way you were looking at the Fergusons. I know you’ve kept up with them over the years.” He paused, and she dreaded what he’d say next. “It wasn’t your fault, Ad.” The last she didn’t really hear, but rather, she saw the words form on his lips.
She shook her head. “I know.” She hadn’t even been there when...when the accident had happened. She’d tried for years to second-guess what might have happened if she had been there.
Wyatt leaned back in the wooden chair and
