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“You think not?”
“I know not. He and I are too far gone to go back. He’s moved on. I’ve moved on. End of story.”
Hazel raised her eyebrows. “That’s not what I saw.”
Frowning, Janie glared for a moment, then gave Hazel her back as she straightened glasses on the wall shelf. As if that tidy line of shimmering dinnerware needed it. “As much as you’ve been avoiding Hunter this summer, you haven’t seen anything.”
That was true. Hazel hadn’t observed her brother and Janie together. But she had seen the both of them on their own. She’d witnessed their separate reactions whenever the other had been mentioned. And she knew for a fact Hunter was about as close to over Janie Truitt as the earth was to the sun. By Janie’s rumpled reaction now, and in previous times concerning Hunter, Hazel would bet that Janie’s heart, though broken, still beat for Hunter.
They could go back. And Hazel was all for that. At one point in time, Hunter and Janie had been happy together. Hazel believed they could be again. If only Janie would get past the resentment.
Ironic that Hazel would think that of her friend. Wasn’t that what Bennett had been telling her since January—to get past her resentment and reconcile with her one and only living relative?
Goodness, but these hills made for some granite souls. But even granite could crack.
At that thought, the recollection of Bennett’s sort-of proposal brushed through her mind. Again. She quivered with a sensation that both thrilled and made her cower. The fact that he loved her and wanted a lifetime with her was still wonderfully unbelievable. And also disturbingly unbelievable.
Like the immovable mountain woman she was, Hazel clung to the fear. Even though she felt it tearing them apart.
Blinking against the surge of messy emotion, Hazel pushed away from the pine bar and stood. She no longer felt like teasing her friend about Hunter. Relationships were complicated, and she didn’t have any business poking her nose in Janie’s. Not when she knew it stirred havoc in her friend’s heart.
“I was going to take a trek tomorrow and see if there are still some wild raspberries. Do you want some?” It’d be unlikely, as frost had hit most of the high country. But still worth a look.
Janie turned back with a grateful smile. “You know I do.”
Hazel nodded and pivoted for the door right as the entry bell jingled. In strode a tall man, younger—in his mid to late twenties, Hazel would guess—medium build, and rusty-brown eyes shaded by a Game and Parks cap.
“Good afternoon.” The man spoke without a smile, but his expression seemed pleasant enough.
Another good-looking stranger . . .Last time Hazel had seen one of those in Janie’s Café, her world had slid sideways.
She nearly shook her head and laughed out loud. But then she glanced back at Janie.
There stood her friend, dish towel in one hand, clean glass in the other, motionless and gooey eyed.
“Hi,” Janie breathed.
No!Hazel’s heart plummeted. She looked back at the handsome guy moving deeper into the café. Toward Janie.
Ruining everything.
Janie regained her business self, though her smile was certainlynotwhat she flashed toward Jeremy Yates or old Jasper. “Hi,” she repeated. “Welcome to Luna. What can I get you?”
“I hear that you make a pie that could make a man believe he’s found heaven. Have any?”
“Sure do. Apple or pecan?”
“Apple.”
“Ice cream? It’s homemade.”
“Absolutely.”
“You got it.” Janie winked.
Hazel’s stomach knotted, and panic stamped in her veins. She headed for the exit pronto, before she had to witness any more of this . . . thisflirting.
But then the man turned and addressed her before she could escape. “Are you from around here?”
