“Can’t. Got a county to run.”
He tipped his head toward the Harpers.
“Nice meeting you both.”
Then he headed back out the door.
Liz watched him go with interest.
“You certainly keep impressive company.”
Eleanor smiled.
“It’s a small town.”
Lunch arrived in a cheerful clatter of plates.
Conversation flowed easily—Liz asking April about the courthouse, Lawrence discussing a case with Reid, Deck teasing Eleanor about small-town gossip.
After a while, Liz leaned back slightly and looked around the table. Her expression softened.
“Oh, Ellie,” she said warmly. “You’ve really created a life here.”
The table quieted.
“We miss you every day in Charleston,” Liz continued gently, “but seeing you here, with all these wonderful people…”
She gestured toward the table.
“I can feel how much they care about you. And that makes a mother very happy.”
Eleanor squeezed her hand.
“I’m happy here,” she said softly.
Reid’s knee brushed hers under the table and didn’t move away.
He glanced at her. Something warm flickered across his face.
For the first time in a long time, the word home didn’t feel like something she was borrowing.
Lawrence leaned back slightly, studying the room.
“Well,” he said calmly, “it appears our daughter has surrounded herself with good people.”
Deck lifted his glass.
“That she has.”
A moment later, Reid leaned slightly toward Eleanor and lowered his voice.
“Your Irish bloodhound of a detective looks pretty comfortable here.”
Eleanor elbowed him.
“Be nice.”
Deck’s head lifted immediately from across the table.
