Page 71 of Holding Ground

It always amazes me how resilient kids are and how quickly they let things go. We adults carry shit on our backs for years, sometimes all our lives, but kids have this innate ability to let go of things.

“All right, let’s go.”

I get back in the truck and drive us to Main Street, where I find a parking spot in front of the art store beside the Birdhouse Bakery.

When we get inside the shop, Deacon is behind the counter, adding some baked goods to the display.

Baylor runs up to the glass case. “Hi, Deacon.”

He straightens and nods. “Baylor, how are you?”

“I was sad, but my dad made me feel better.”

Deacon meets my gaze, then looks back at Baylor. “I’ll bet he’s good at that, isn’t he?”

“The best! What’s that one?” She points at the small, round pastries he just added to the display.

“That’s a new one. It’s called Emelia’s Compass.”

My stomach swoops. Deacon gave Emelia a pastry. I’m not sure how to feel about that. He’s never given one to someone who wasn’t a resident of Echo Lake.

Baylor’s mouth drops open, and she turns to face me. “Daddy, Emelia got one!”

“I see that.”

“What’s that thing on top of it?” Baylor presses both hands to the glass and practically presses her nose against it to get a better look.

I set my hand on her shoulder and draw her back. Every time we’re in here, I have to remind her not to get her fingerprints all over the glass.

“That’s candied ginger. It’s really sweet, but it can have a bit of a bite to it.” He meets my gaze, and for some reason, I feel the urge to look away.

Baylor continues to think about it, not fully deciding. “What’s a compass mean?”

“A compass is something that people use to tell what direction to go. If they’re lost, they can use it to find their way,” I say.

“Exactly. From what I can tell, Emelia’s still figuring out which way is north. Hence the name,” Deacon clarifies.

I’m not sure what to say. I think Emelia knows exactly what direction the compass would point her toward—back to Boston. So rather than respond, I prompt Baylor to decide what she wants.

She takes a beat to make her decision, then finally decides to try Emelia’s Compass.

I suppose I should’ve seen that one coming.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-EIGHT

Emelia

Ifeel better after speaking to my parents last night, but I still haven’t responded to the text message on my phone. I’ve opened it to respond several times, and by now, it’s burned into my memory.

Hey, this is Liz. I’m Tanya Eaton’s niece. Heard you were trying to track down some relatives of hers. May I ask why?

For some reason, I haven’t been able to make myself respond. Maybe because once I do, there’s no going back, and I’m not sure what I’ll find on the other end. Yesterday at this time, I thought it was my parents holding me back, but that might have only been my excuse.

I will respond to her. I just need a moment to gather my thoughts. A lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours.

I’m working on my laptop on the couch in Elliott’s family room when an email pops up from one of my coworkers. I decide not to read it at that moment, in favor of finishing up what I’m working on. Once that’s done, I go back to my email and see that the same coworker has sent a response to her original email.