Page 37 of Pumpkin Spice Promises

“She walked,” I corrected. “Her truck broke down on Highway Ninety.”

“In that storm?” Mom asked.

“Over two miles,” Jax supplied.

Mom’s expression immediately shifted into concern. “That poor girl.”

“She’s fine,” I said. “Cold and stubborn, but fine.”

“Stubborn is an understatement,” Jax muttered. “She argued with Beau about everything except the existence of gravity.”

“She had a rough morning.”

“She also called you insufferable.”

“She wasn’t wrong,” Clover said.

I looked at her. “Whose side are you on?”

“Whichever one is more entertaining.”

Hunter passed her the salt before she could ask, proving he had learned to anticipate her actions even more after marriage.

“Carson Rome,” Mom repeated thoughtfully as she began cutting her chicken into neat pieces. “Evelyn’s granddaughter?”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t seen her in town in ages…”

“She handles the milk deliveries,” Clover said. “June talks about her all the time, but Carson usually comes before the bakery opens.”

“Your dad and James were close,” Mom reminded us.

Dad had gone quiet. He stared down into his thermos for a moment before setting it beside his plate. “Best man I ever knew,” he said. “Stubborn son of a gun, but good.”

“Sounds familiar,” Mom murmured.

Dad ignored her.

“Truck still running?”

“Barely,” Jax said. “The water pump failed. Belt and tensioner are shot. There’s corrosion in places I don’t like, and the brakes need attention.”

Dad frowned. “Black square body?”

I nodded.

“That was James’s.”

“I know.”

“He bought it before Carson was born.” Dad leaned back in his chair, memory softening his expression. “Wouldn’t sell it even after I offered him more than it was worth. Said he was leaving it to the kid.”

“The kid?” Clover asked.

“Carson. She followed him everywhere when she was little.”

I remembered the photograph in the garage office. James smiling beside Dad with one hand resting on that same truck. “She still drives it because it was his,” I said.