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But was it time for Tilly to hear why Jack had died?
Egan ran through what he could say, how he could tell her. Again, she’d be crushed, but she should know the truth. Maybe he could sit her down after the life celebration and spill all. Afterward, she’d hate him, but it had to be done. He didn’t want Tilly to keep thinking of him as a blasted hero.
“I can’t stay long,” Egan explained. “I’m heading to the base for a while.” Of course, there was no scheduled appointment for that. His admin officer had said there were training forms that Egan needed to sign and that they would be on his desk.
Tilly nodded and looked up at him. “What’s going on with Alana?”
The question threw him, and Egan was thankful he hadn’t sputtered out a cough or some other guilty telltale sign. “What do you mean?” he asked, hoping like the devil that Tilly didn’t want to know—
“I mean, there’s talk about you and her,” Tilly provided.
Clearly, hoping like the devil hadn’t worked, but there was no way he was going to spill anything about that kiss. It was possible, of course, that someone had witnessed it if they’d been anywhere in the vicinity of that part of the creek, but Egan hadn’t seen anyone. Still, anyone around Alana and him for more than a second or two could probably pick up on the heat between them. He wasn’t going to mention that to Tilly, either.
“Alana’s been coming to the ranch every day to check on my dad and make sure he’s sticking to the diet changes,” Egan said. Definitely not a lie.
Tilly didn’t respond, and it seemed to Egan that she was waiting for him to add more. She finally muttered, “Of course,” but she didn’t seem to be feeling much relief that checking on his dad was all there was to the rumors.
“I think the third-year anniversary is weighing on Alana,” Tilly went on a moment later. “I suspected it would. Anniversaries tend to do that, they bring it all back to the surface. It was one of the reasons I wanted to go ahead and do a life celebration. I thought the day would be easier, what with so many people around to talk about Jack’s finer moments.”
He nearly asked if that’s why she invited Colleen, but there was no way he could pull off the question and not sound annoyed. Which he was. However, Egan had decided not to dwell on it. Yeah, he’d likely have to face Colleen on the day of the event, but there was no need to give her any mental space before then.
“Take care, Tilly,” Egan said, and he started to walk away.
“My friends are all early risers like me,” the woman volunteered. “So, I’ve already got a whole bunch of likes, comments and shares on the photo I posted of you.”
Great. Since Tilly’s friends were likely the same circle as his dad’s, Egan only hoped this blip of attention didn’t continue. As far as he was concerned, every day was an anniversary to remember the nightmare of not saving Jack.
He went back to his truck and took the road that would lead him to the interstate and then the base. It also took him straight down Main Street, which thankfully never had much traffic. Including this morning. The only thing to slow a driver down was the posted thirty miles an hour speed limit.
Egan didn’t mind the pokey speed, though, because Main Street was lined with interesting, and unusual, mom-and-pop businesses that fed a small town’s unique personality. The Sweet Tooth ice-cream and candy shop. Collier’s Grocery with its white stucco exterior crammed with vintage and antique signs of foods and drinks. On the other side of it, was the bookstore, One for the Books.
Since this was ranching country, there was a shop where Bobby Medina and his wife, Esther, made custom boots, belts and hats. They hadn’t gone with anything catchy back in the ’70s when they’d opened their doors. It was just called Boots, Belts and Hats.
Egan stopped at the lone traffic light that was positioned next to Desi’s Diner, the town’s hot spot for breakfast, and he spotted a familiar vehicle in the parking lot. Grammy Effie’s old VW van that she’d refused to part with even though she no longer drove. Egan quickly saw the riddle of how it’d gotten there when he noticed Effie and Maybell at one of the tables that was directly in front of the window.
He might have kept going after the light turned green, but his grandmother waved at him and then motioned for him to come inside. And he got a jolt of worry. Remi had left two days ago to go back to work, and both Maybell and Effie had been at the ranch when he’d left. Since they were here, it meant his dad was maybe in the house alone. Fifteen days ago, before the heart attack, that wouldn’t have been any big deal, but it felt like one now.
Egan parked and tried not to do a flat-out run to get inside the diner and find out what was going on. But he didn’t manage to get out any questions because the moment he was inside, he saw his dad seated in one of the booths.
With Alana across from him.
“Alana walked up from her office to meet us here,” Maybell immediately provided, no doubt because she’d seen the alarm on Egan’s face. “She wanted to point out the healthier things on the menu for Derek to order.”
Some of that alarm had to still be there in his expression. “Did the doctors give Dad permission to be out and about?”
“They did,” his grandmother assured him. “Dr. Abrams gave specific instructions for us to bring him when it wasn’t too crowded so Derek wouldn’t get overwhelmed with the well-wishers.”
Maybell checked the time. “We’re also not supposed to stay longer than a half hour, and there’s only five minutes left so we’ll be heading out soon.”
Effie and Maybell clearly hadn’t gone with healthier options. They were both eating plate-sized cinnamon rolls that were drowned in icing. His dad, however, was eating what appeared to be a fruit plate with a side of wheat toast. Like him, Alana had coffee, and she met his gaze over the top of her gigantic mug.
Met his gaze and then quickly looked away.
Egan knew why she’d done that. Because they totally sucked at hiding the aftereffects of that kiss, and she hadn’t wanted his dad or anyone else to see the heat in her eyes.
Thankfully, though, there weren’t many customers to see. Only four others, retired men Egan recognized and knew to be regulars. A waitress was behind the counter, and Egan spotted the cook, Teddy Merkins, behind a cloud of smoke just on the other side of the half wall pass-through to the kitchen. Judging from the smell, he was cooking both sausage and bacon.
The owner, Desi Lovejoy, had obviously embraced his famous namesake, Desi Arnaz, because there were framed pictures of the actor all over the walls. Even the tops of the tables themselves were covered with Desi photos, coated with a clear protective shield. Egan had always thought it was a little disrespectful to plop down overloaded plates of food and drinks onto Desi’s grinning face, but since the particular face took up the entire table, there wasn’t much of a choice.
