He held up his hand. “Let’s not go down that road again. I came by to take you to lunch if you’re so inclined. Today’s special at the Sunshine Diner is liver and onions.”
“Ugh, who likes that?”
“I do.” He looked slightly offended.
“You’re too young for old people food.” Erma tried to move toward him and knocked over a display of T-shirt yarn. “Oh, for goodness’ sake.”
“I’ll fix it.”
She watched as he made a valiant attempt to put all the skeins of yarn in the cube she’d knocked over. They had been neatly stacked—one of the few displays that was—but now they were being haphazardly squished into the space.
“There,” he said, cramming the last skein of yarn into the box. “No harm done. So, are we on for lunch? I only have forty-five minutes, and then I have to get back to the store.”
Erma was about to tell him she wasn’t hungry when an idea jumped into her mind.Erma Jean, you’re a genius.“I’m not all that hungry, but there is something you can do for me.”
“Name it.”
She wished there were a way to convince him not to feel guilty over what happened. Truth be told, she should have known better than to attempt that slide. The accident brought home the fact that she wasn’t as fit as she used to be, which was another reason she wanted Riley back. Although she’d never admit it out loud, Myrtle was right—she was taking advantage of her accident to coax Riley back to the fold. She was worried about her granddaughter. The child had always been a loner, and that tendency hadn’t changed since her big move to New York. Riley needed fresh air and companionship. And potential companionship was standing right in front of Erma, wrapped up in a charming and attractive package.
“I need you to pick up someone from the airport for me,” she told Hayden. “Either tonight or tomorrow, if you’re free.”
“Just so happens I am.” He grinned. “All you need to do is let me know when.”
“I’ll send you a text.” As the creator and coach of the newly minted church softball team, he had given all the players his cell phone number. For years Erma had been resistant to texting, preferring to pick up the phone and call whoever she wanted to talk to. But she acknowledged that sometimes it was convenient, especially if you wanted to avoid any unwelcome questions.
“That works.” He put his hands into the cargo pockets of his shorts. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat? I can bring you something if you don’t feel like going to the diner.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“All right. Rain check then.” He headed for the front of the store, then turned around and looked at her, smiling again—Hayden Price’s typical expression. Not only was he handsome but he was unfailingly optimistic and had been since he was a young kid. The perfect contrast to her serious but sweeter than peaches-and-cream granddaughter. He waved at Erma, then left for the diner.
She smiled, steepling her fingers. Erma couldn’t believe it—a broken leg might be just the thing she needed to help her granddaughter.
Chapter2
Hayden walked through the sliding doors at Clinton National Airport and then glanced at his watch: 10:30 p.m. He was a few minutes early. He walked toward a group of tables and chairs near the coffee bar and sat down facing the escalators, waiting for Erma’s mystery visitor to appear.
He stretched out his legs and thought about the text Erma sent him earlier that day with the flight details and thanking him for doing this favor for her. If she’d asked him to jump off the top of the Knots and Tangles roof, he probably would have—or at least given it serious thought. She’d told him dozens of times since she broke her leg not to blame himself, but he couldn’t help it. He knew the kind of pain an injury like that could cause, and it was probably more intense considering her age. It was his fault she had to deal with it. Why he hadn’t stopped a seventy-plus-year-old woman from rounding the bases, he didn’t know. Not at the time anyway. He realized later he’d let his competitive nature get the best of him. He needed to work on that. The days of wanting to win at all costs were over—forever.
Picking up someone from the airport hardly made up for what happened, but he was glad to do it. He just wished she hadn’t been so cagey about who he was supposed to bring back to Maple Falls. Erma hadn’t given him a name. All she said was the time the flight was supposed to arrive, along with“You’ll recognize the person when you see them.”
Despite her insistence on keeping her visitor a secret, he wondered if he was picking up her granddaughter, Riley. He’d considered asking Erma outright but decided to let the woman have her fun. There was a chance he was picking up someone other than Riley, who hadn’t returned to Maple Falls since... Actually, he had no idea when Riley had last been in her hometown.
A few minutes later, he saw several people taking the escalator from the gate section of the airport to the lobby, indicating that the plane had landed. It was the last arrival of the night. He rose from the chair and strolled toward the escalator, keeping a good distance but studying everyone who had arrived. He didn’t recognize any of the passengers as they walked to the baggage carousels behind him. Hayden moved closer to the escalator, and soon it was empty. Huh. He hoped he hadn’t missed Erma’s guest.
As soon as he started to head to the gates, he saw someone appear at the top of the escalator. When she was halfway down, he smiled. Well, well, he was right after all. Riley McAllister had returned.
She pulled a small roller suitcase behind her, and a large red duffel bag was slung over her shoulder. A small brown leather purse was strapped across her torso. She was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt that looked suspiciously like a man’s, slim faded jeans, and hippie sandals with big buckles on them. But while her outfit was casual, the tense expression on her face was not. Riley was home, but she didn’t look happy about it.
He met her at the bottom of the escalator. “Hey, Riley.”
She looked at him, her head tilting and her frown deepening, as if she didn’t know who he was. That pricked his ego a bit. Who in Maple Falls and the great central Arkansas area didn’t know Hayden Price? The small-town boy who made it big in the minor leagues, then went on to the majors only to blow out his shoulder when he threw the opening pitch of his first professional game. Then again, it had been almost a decade since he’d seen Riley. A lot had happened since then, but he didn’t think he’d changedthatmuch.
“Hayden?” she finally said.
“That’s me.”
“What are you doing here?” She dragged the strap of the duffel higher on her shoulder, sounding a little annoyed.
