Page 128 of Pumpkin Spice Promises

He moved through the crowded bakery without hesitation. Some people glanced. Most didn’t. Clover came around the counter. Hunter bent slightly when she reached him, and she kissed his cheek. It was something so painfully normal that my throat burned with emotion.

He said something too low for me to hear. Clover pointed toward the back. Hunter sighed. Then started removing his prosthetic arm like it was completely normal, and for him, us, it was.

My attention caught before I could stop it. He did it casually, a practiced movement I knew too well, except with him there was no embarrassment or any attempt to hide from the room. He detached the prosthesis, handed it to Clover, and rubbed the end of his residual limb through the thin liner beneath his shirt sleeve. Clover accepted the arm with the same expression she might have worn if he handed her a jacket, then set it carefully beneath the counter and continued talking to him about her day like this was all completely and utterly normal.

Hunter flexed his left hand, then reached for a bottle of water from the cooler.

My lungs forgot how to work for half a second. I knew that expression, the relief of taking the prosthetic off. The moment after removing something that had become uncomfortable enough that keeping it on no longer outweighed the inconvenience of taking it off.

My right hand tightened around the strap of my purse in surprise, because how had I missed this.

Clover looked at me, and I immediately looked toward the cookie display, giving them privacy. I felt like an absolute coward, and I hated myself for it.

Nothing drastic or dramatic had happened in the last couple minutes, nobody had gasped or commented about Hunter’s arm. It was like he hadn’t just walked in here missing a limb, it was like he was normal.

And that was exactly why it affected me.

Nothing happened.

Nobody became uncomfortable. Nobody praised Hunter for existing in public. Nobody asked Clover whether caring for him was difficult. He had taken off his arm because it was uncomfortable. His wife had helped him where she could, and then life continued.

The mother near the cookie case ordered two pumpkin muffins. June burned something in the kitchen, and swore loudly enough for everyone to hear. The old women at the front table kept discussing somebody’s divorce. Willow Creek did not stop turning because Hunter had a prosthetic arm, and Clover didn’t love him any less because of it.

I had spent five years behaving as though mine might.

“Carson?” Clover stood beside me again. I hadn’t heard her approach.

“Sorry.”

“Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I nodded, wanting to just get out of her before I got too comfortable. “I should get back.”

Her gaze moved briefly toward Hunter. Then returned to me as though she was worried about me. “Why don’t you stay for lunch?”

“I really have to get back to work.” I started to stand, holding the table as I got my balance right.

“June made tomato soup.” She wiggled her brows because everyone in town loved June’s tomato soup.

“I’m okay really⁠—”

“And grilled cheese.”

I hesitated. That was my favorite lunch combo… she was going to win the argument.

I sighed. “Fine you win, I’ll stay.”

Clover smiled gleefully and turned over her shoulder to go get us some food. My phone buzzed as I sat back down at the table. I pulled it from my purse.

BEAU

My stomach rolled in excitement before I even opened the message.

Beau

I see you got a new fence guy. He’s kinda handsome.

A picture loaded beneath it.