I look away from her searching, sad eyes.
“Honey.” She takes my hand in hers. “I loved Cain like a son, and I miss him. You know that. Weallmiss him. He was a kind soul. Unpretentious. Selfless. God took him too quickly. But you had him enough to see what real, deep, true love is.” She waits for me to meet her eyes with mine. “There’s someone else—another kind someone—out there who will be good and fair to you. Someone you’ll be happy with and get to enjoy the rest of your life with. But you have to find yourself again.”
Tears pool in my eyes.
“All of us who love you—genuinelylove you—Cat and Louisa and I, we want you to be happy and safe. And it’s obvious that you aren’t right now.” Her eyes burn into mine. “Will you accept my help?”
I bite my lip so hard that it stings. I blink back tears, nodding even though I don’t know how it’s possible.
“You know all that money Cain sent me, year after year? I put it all towards sheltering women in need. But I never had any idea that I’d be doing this for you, my sweet wren.” She takes my hand and presses it against her cheek.
The nurse strides in, Trey close behind, chair in tow. “Vital check,” the nurse says breezily, tucking a blood pressure cuff around my arm. She meets Aunt Birdie’s eyes, and Aunt Birdie’s nod is almost imperceptible. “After this,” the nurse says, “I need to roll you down for one more scan, Honey.”
Aunt Birdie stands and tucks the book under my arm. “You can continue reading this, my dear.” She bends down, kisses me on the forehead and whispers, “You’re tougher than you think,” before the nurse transfers me to a wheelchair and whisks me away from Trey.
2
HONEY, PRESENT
While Dot bags my pastries,I sit at one of the barstools at the window facing downtown Paradise Springs. It’s barely past eight o’clock in the morning and already, Paradise Springs is busy, with tourists strolling into The Cracked Egg and the dive shop across the street. Businessmen and women in Florida business casual attire are striding with purpose across the square toward the city hall or the small, local bank on the corner.
My eye catches on a man facing away from me, walking past the town fountain. Tall, wide shoulders, well-muscled, jet black hair with silver running through it. A sliver of ice slices up my spine.Please don’t be Trey.
He halts mid-stride, still facing away from me. I tug my floppy sunhat further down onto my head, poke at the bridge of my sunglasses, and step further away from the window, watching him.
Please, please, please don’t be Trey.
Of courseit’s not him. Trey wouldn’t be strolling through the town square. People would be flocking to him for his autograph. If he was in Paradise Springs, he would only be here for one reason—to bring me back “home.” To prove to everyone that weare back together. Trey and Honey, back together, better than ever.
I just need to see his face. One tiny inch of it.
He pivots so that he’s facing the bakery window. Facingme.
A long whoosh of air escapes from my lips. It’s not Trey.
“Two creams and a shot of hazelnut.” It takes me a moment to shift gears and notice Dot standing next to me, holding out my cup of coffee and my pastry bag. “Hey, you okay?”
I take the bag and the coffee, nodding, trying to compose myself. “Low blood sugar and lack of caffeine. I’m wonderful now.” I hold up the coffee—a mistake because my hands are shaking.
“Sit down for a minute, honey.” The term of endearment startles me. Honey. My real name, even though Dot doesn’t know that. And once again, I wonder what on earth my mom was thinking when she named me. “You don’t look well. Yousureyou’re okay?”
“Yep. Fine.” My eyes unconsciously stray back to the man who’s not Trey. He’s talking to another man I’ve seen around town before today. His confident, lanky swagger and his thick, wavy, red hair, curling at the nape of his neck under his cowboy hat remind me of my first crush at a summer horse camp years ago. Just seeing him provokes a visceral reaction deep in my core. I was so sweetly innocent back then and so blissfully full of hope in the power of happily ever afters.
Dot follows my gaze. “Speaking of fine.” She chuckles. “The guy with the dark hair works at the courthouse in records. He used to date Reagan, the owner of Book Bliss, but that was more than a year ago. He’s free now. Maybe too free. The man he’s talking to is a real sweetie. He’s the foreman at May Ranch.” She smiles down at me. “So, which one do you want me to introduce you to?”
“Oh no you don’t.” I hold up the bag of goodies. “I’ll stick with my cinnamon buns and a good book.”
She laughs. “I don’t blame you. Sounds easier.” She pivots. “See you day after tomorrow? Pecan rolls. I’ll save two for you.” She returns to the counter, and I head for the door, hot coffee in hand, trying to tuck the bag of pastries in my satchel even though I might as well throw the whole bag in the next available trash can. The shot of adrenaline from seeing Trey—who wasn’t really Trey—has caused me to lose my appetite. I’ll be on edge for hours or even the next day or two, losing even more weight that I didn’t need to lose. As it is, I’m all sharp angles. If Aunt Birdie could see me, she’d set me down in front of a big plate of biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, country fried ham, and a stack of pancakes.
I ram the door open and collide with a wide, hard torso. My coffee cup jams into my chest. Burning hot coffee spills all down the front of me, the heat immediately inflaming the thin skin of my chest and making me gasp. The cup plops onto the ground, splattering over a pair of jeans and cowboy boots. I frantically pull at the front of my shirt as the boots slip past me and then return.
“Here. Are you okay?”
I blink up at the red-headed cowboy Dot said worked at May Ranch. He’s holding out a stack of napkins, so I can blot at my chest, as if that will do anything at this point.
“My skin is on fire.” I bite out the words. “And I want to rip off my T-shirt and jump in the water fountain in the middle of the town square! Does that sound okay to you?” Yes, I did just say that aloud. That’s how my mouth and brain work together—first, my mouth says something stupid and then, I think it through and immediately regret it.
“Sounds more than okay to me. But maybe we should go to the clinic instead.”
