I pushed through the door, the bell jingling overhead. The diner was warm and smelled like grease and coffee, comfort food for a town in crisis. Nearly every booth and table was full, locals talking animatedly over plates of food. I spotted an empty stool at the counter and made my way toward it.
“Hey there, sugar,” Dolly said, pouring me a cup of coffee before I could even sit down. “Can I get you a menu?”
“Yeah,” I grumbled, picking up the warm cup.
She handed it over, giving me a puzzled look. She’d seen me the day I came into town, before the tornado. But I wasn’t just some stranger passing through now. I thought she’d recognize me eventually, but for now, it seemed, she was content to let me be.
“I’ll let you look over it for a few minutes.”
I was halfway through looking at the menu when I felt a presence beside me. Looking up, I saw Brooks sliding onto the stool next to mine, his expression unreadable. Great. Just what I needed.
“Cash,” he nodded, signaling to Dolly for coffee.
“Brooks,” I replied flatly, returning my attention to the menu though I’d already decided on a burger.
The silence stretched between us, uncomfortable and heavy. I could feel his eyes on me, studying my face like he was trying to find something familiar there.
“Look,” he finally said, his voice low. “I wanted to apologize about the living situation. Rowan and I would’ve made room for you if we could.”
I kept my eyes on the menu. “Don’t need your apology.”
“Still,” Brooks insisted. “You’re family. I don’t want you to think you don’t matter to me.”
That word again. Family. It made my blood boil every time I heard it. And since when did Brooks give a shit about me? I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him in almost ten years. Where had he been all that time?
“Where you stayin’ now?” he asked when I didn’t respond.
“Pastor’s place,” I muttered. “He’s got a spare room.”
Brooks’s eyebrows shot up. “Pastor Mike? The new guy?”
“That’s the one,” I said, finally setting the menu down. “Young, blond, looks like he should be in a boy band instead of behind a pulpit.”
A small smile tugged at Brooks’s lips. “I’ve heard he’s a good man. Helped a lot of folks after the tornado.”
“Yeah, well, he’s letting me crash there till I can sell the ranch and get the hell out of here.”
Brooks sighed, wrapping his calloused hands around his coffee mug. “Cash, about what you said earlier... about your life after you left...”
“Don’t,” I warned, my voice dropping to a dangerous growl. “I don’t need your guilt or your concern. It’s too fuckin’ late for that.”
“I didn’t know,” he said anyway, ignoring my warning. “Your dad told everyone you went to live with your mother’s family in Oklahoma. Said it was your choice.”
I laughed bitterly. “And you believed him?”
“I had no reason not to believe him, Cash. What was I supposed to do?”
I turned to face him fully, anger bubbling up inside me. “You were supposed to fuckin’ ask questions! You were supposed to wonder why I never called, never visited! You were supposed to care!”
Several heads turned our way, conversations pausing at nearby tables. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to lower my voice.
“It doesn’t matter now,” I said, reaching for my wallet to throw some bills on the counter for the coffee. “I’m not stayin’.”
Brooks grabbed my arm, his grip firm but not painful. “Cash, please. Let me make it right.”
I yanked my arm away. “You can’t.”
“At least let me try,” he insisted. “Once the cabin is fixed, you can stay there. Rowan and I can bunk at the clinic for a while longer. The cabin’s yours as long as you need it.”
