Lightning in a Bottle: A Small Town,

Single Parent Romance (Hot Southern

Nights) Kathryn M. Hearst & Kayla
Haranda
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Lightning in a Bottle
Hot Southern Nights
Kathryn M. Hearst
Kayla M. Haranda
 LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE.
Copyright © 2024 by Kathryn M. Hearst. All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Worldwide Rights. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except
in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
First Edition published by Wyndham House, Inc. February 2024.
Cover art designed by Kathryn M. Hearst
Model Photo by Regina Wamba
Editors Holly Atkinson, Evil Eye Editing & Katherine Phelps
Proofreader Book Nook Nuts Proofreading
Created with Vellum
 Contents

Foreword

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35

Special Thanks
Also by Kathryn M. Hearst
About the Authors
 For Suzan,
I wouldn’t have finished this book without your support, encouragement, and that marathon late night phone call. Thanks
for believing in me.
 AUTHOR’S NOTE

Dear Reader,
When most people think about North Carolina, they think of the mountains, the Outer Banks, or our fabulous cities. This
book is set in the often overlooked part of the state between I-95 and the coast, known as Eastern North Carolina. While Swans
Harbor is a fictional small town, I loosely based it on Edenton, a beautiful, historic Inner Banks town located on the Albemarle
Sound.
This novel contains oodles of colorful Southern sayings. At times, the language may not be grammatically correct. Rest
assured, this was a deliberate choice. In addition, the older characters in the story may be offensive to some readers. If you are
highly sensitive, this book may not be your cup of tea.
Those of you who love movies like Fried Green Tomatoes and Steel Magnolias, you’ll enjoy the world I created. Happy
Reading!

Kathryn
Chapter One
 Truly

“Y’ ALL AREN ’ T GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT I HEARD THIS MORNING .” MRS . AGNES ABERNATHY BLEW INTO DELTA DAWN ’ S BEAUTY
Palace like an Eastern Carolina Hurricane.
There were two things you could count on in a small Southern town—God and gossip. As a preacher’s daughter who’d
gotten knocked up out of wedlock, I was no stranger to either.
To tune Agnes out, I turned my blow dryer on high. The last thing I needed was to get behind with my first client. I had a full
day of hair and nail appointments, a mountain of night school homework, and double the kindergarten registration forms to
complete before I could drag myself to bed.
Ms. Hazel patted my arm and shouted, “Turn that off for a second. This sounds like it’s gonna be good.”
“Sure thing.” I held in a sigh and hit the power button.
“What happened?” Delta, my grandma, set down her hairspray and gave Agnes her full attention. She always perked up at
the promise of snooping through someone else’s dirty laundry.
For the owner of a beauty parlor, a red-hot rumor was more than a chance to be nosey. It meant an increase in walk-in
business. The only thing folks in these parts loved more than hearing gossip was giving their opinions about it.
“Hold your horses. I’m getting ready to blow your minds.” Agnes grinned like she’d found the winning lottery ticket.
“Truly, come over here. You’re going to want to hear this.”
I cringed before I could stop myself. Gossip in Swans Harbor worked a lot like that old game, Six Degrees of Kevin
Bacon. If she wanted me to hear it, Agnes’s rumor was probably about me or someone I cared about.
Thankfully, my phone rang.
“Saved by the bell.” I grinned until I glanced at the Raleigh number. “I need to take this.”
Agnes blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine, then I’ll wait.”
Delta raised a brow and mouthed, “Lawyer?”
I nodded and hurried to the back porch. “Hello.”
“Hey, Truly. Do you have a moment? It’s about your cases.” Macy sounded far too chipper to be discussing legal matters.
My already frazzled nerves sparked like downed power lines. “Hi. Yes. Of course.”
Macy and I had been college roommates until I’d dropped out when I’d gotten pregnant. While we’d drifted apart after I
left Duke, she was the first person I thought of when I decided to explore my legal options. Macy had taken one look at both my
cases and declared she’d work for me pro bono.
“I heard back from the Las Vegas coroner’s office. Eli’s blood and tissue samples were destroyed before they received the
court order.”
She’d warned me establishing paternity this way was a long shot, but I’d insisted we try. It wasn’t the twins’ fault their
father had not only never gotten around to signing their birth certificates, but died without a will. “What about the grandparents’
DNA tests?”
Macy’s tone hardened. “Mavis and Harold Vaughn refused to submit a sample.”
“Because they stand to inherit everything.” I would never forgive Eli’s parents for robbing my girls of a share in their
father’s estate. It wasn’t like I was asking for millions, just enough to keep a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, and
maybe, some money for college.
“Has Mavis asked to see Paisley and Skylar?”
“Not since the funeral.” I understood money made people do horrible things, but I couldn’t understand how Mavis could
turn her back on her granddaughters. Whether she legally claimed them or not, they were her flesh and blood.
“That’s sad for her and the girls.” She drew a deep breath. “We still have the intellectual property case.”
“I guess.” Establishing paternity was one thing, but outright suing my daughters’ father was a different kettle of fish. Sure,
he’d never given me credit for the music I’d written, but the whole IP lawsuit thing felt gross. Especially now that Eli was
dead.
“I sent your copyright certifications, the pertinent correspondence between you and Eli, and an infringement notice to the
record company. As expected, they refuted your claim to the songs you wrote.” She sounded far more optimistic than I felt.
“What’s the next step?”
“We take them to court. I’d like you to come in and read over everything before I file the suit. You can sign the papers while
you’re here.”
Between the prospect of a two-hour drive, the lawsuit, and my life in general, I desperately needed to blow off some steam.
My body must have agreed because I laughed in Macy’s ear.
“You still cackle when you’re freaked out?” She chuckled.
My face burned. “You know me too well.”
“We’ll get through this, Tru. What can I do to make it easier on you?”
“Can you email the papers to me? I don’t have a morning off until the twins start school.” I paced the back porch to clear
my head. “Plus, I need to slow down and think this through.”
“I’ll send them now.” The sound of Macy’s typing filled the line. “I understand why you’re hesitant, but think about what
this money could mean for you and the girls.”
“Paisley and Skylar are the only reasons I’m even considering this…” I struggled to swallow back the emotion clogging my
throat. “It’d be different if Eli was still alive, but doing this now seems… I don’t want to dirty his legacy.”
“I hear what you’re saying. And yes, Eli’s accident was a tragedy, but you wouldn’t be in this situation if he was alive. You
could get this sorted out with a simple phone call.”
There was more to the situation than sullying Eli’s memory. I had the girls to think about. “I’m worried about how the
twins will feel when they find out I sued their dad. Once the press gets wind of the court case, everyone in town will be talking
about it. There’ll be no keeping it from them.”
“Technically, you can’t sue a co-copyright holder. We’re going after Shenandoah Records,” Macy said.
The distinction didn’t make me feel any better. “I know, but it feels like we’re splitting hairs here. People are going to get
hurt.”
People like Chance Alden, the other half of the Vaughn-Alden Band.
When we were kids, Eli, Chance, and I had been like the Three Musketeers. Once upon a time, I’d considered Chance my
best friend, but he was so much more. He was my first kiss, first boyfriend, first lots of things.
I owed it to him to tell him what was going on before I filed the lawsuit. By rights, the songs were half his. I’d composed
the music, and he’d written the lyrics.
“I’m going to reach out to Chance one more time,” I said.
“I’m sure he knows this is coming. The record label would have told him about the infringement notice. Besides, you’ve
been trying to contact him for months. My guess is his attorneys advised him not to speak to you.”
The truth in her words hit me like a two by four to the heart. “I didn’t think about that.”
“And I’m advising you to do the same. Anything you say, no matter how innocent, could be used against you in court.”
I wanted to argue the Chance I knew would never betray me, but that was a lie. I didn’t know him at all—not anymore.
“This is a mess.”
Macy drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know you loved them both.”
Loved, as in past tense, didn’t quite sum up my feelings for Chance Alden and Eli Vaughn. A part of me would always love
them. Eli for giving me the girls, and Chance… I’d always love him for no other reason than he’d owned a piece of my heart
since we were kids.
“Thanks.” Even though she couldn’t see me, I stopped pacing, stood straighter, and put on a brave face. “I’ll let you know if
I have any questions after I read the documents.”
“Keep your chin up. You have a rock-solid case.” Macy disconnected the call.
I glanced across the street to Delta’s rambling Victorian. The peeling paint and saggy front steps weren’t the only things that
needed fixing. The plumbing ran scalding hot to ice cold or not at all, and the electrical outlets in the girls’ room didn’t work
when it rained. The entire place was a big, beautiful fire hazard.
The money from the lawsuit would give me the means to fix it up. It was the least I could do after everything my grandma
had done for me and the twins. When I’d first found out I was expecting, my father cut me off and refused to allow me to come
home. My mom had died a few years earlier, so I was on my own. Thankfully, Delta had taken me in, given me a job, and
provided a shoulder to cry on.
At some point during those long nine months, Agnes and Hazel, my grandma’s best friends, had stepped up and nominated
themselves honorary great-aunts-to-be. They’d gotten me through the newborn phase, the terrible twos, and the dark months
after Eli’s death. I would never forget the love and support the women had shown me during the hardest years of my life—even
if their shenanigans drove me batty.
I walked back inside with my head held high. Otherwise, the ladies would have peppered me with a million questions
about my phone call.
It turned out the grown-ups weren’t the ones I had to worry about.
 Paisley glanced up from her coloring book and wrinkled her brow “You look sad, Momma.”
“She always looks sad when she talks to Aunt Macy.” Skylar ran a brush through her babydoll’s hair.
I knelt beside them, stuck my tongue out, and crossed my eyes. “Is this better?”
Sky giggled, but Paisley continued to stare with a worried expression.
“Talking to Aunt Macy doesn’t make me sad. If I was frowning, it’s because she gave me a lot of things to think about,” I
said.
Paisley nodded and pulled a pink crayon from the box.
With the girls appeased, I stood, squared my shoulders, and made my way into the main part of the salon.
“About dang time.” Hazel shook her head at me before motioning to Agnes. “Now, spill it. What has you grinning like a
donkey eatin’ briars?”
Eyes twinkling, Agnes drew a deep breath and prepared to launch into her story.
Before she could say a word, Mavis Vaughn strolled into the salon. “Did y’all hear Chance Alden canceled his tour? Word
is he’s in drug rehab. I always knew that boy was no good.”
My heart thudded to a stop. There had to be a mistake. Chance didn’t even drink alcohol. He’d never do drugs. Not after his
biological mother had overdosed when he was little.
“Mavis. That was my story to share.” Agnes stomped her foot and folded her arms like a scolded toddler. “And you got it
wrong. Chance didn’t cancel the tour, the record company did. They haven’t sold enough albums since Eli passed away.”
All eyes turned to me.
I’d never get used to the pitying looks and muttered prayers every time someone mentioned him. Before I could think of
something to say, or even react, the twins ran to my side.
Both girls stared at Mavis as if waiting for her to acknowledge them. She didn’t.
“If anyone owns the story, it’s me. It was about my boy.” Mavis glared. “Besides, it was all over the news this morning.”
Sensing a senior citizen cat fight brewing, I nodded to the back of the salon. “Girls, go play Barbies in Grandma’s office.”
The twins glanced between me and the ticked off women before hurrying away.
“Well, since you spoiled all the fun, you might as well leave.” Agnes blew a raspberry at the other woman.
“As per usual, your mood is as ugly as homemade soap.” Without sparing a glance in my direction, Mavis stormed out.
“Good riddance,” Hazel muttered under her breath.
The clacking of fake nails on a keyboard drew my attention. Delta squinted at the laptop, shook her head, and typed some
more.
I had a feeling I knew what she was doing, but that didn’t stop me from asking, “What are you looking up?”
“Turns out poor Chance is still struggling with injuries from the accident.” She turned the screen so I could see the
headline, along with a panty-melting photo of the bad boy of country music singing his heart out on stage. Behind him stood the
gorgeous redheaded bass player, Miranda Bishop—his fiancée.
It hurt me to look at him, but I couldn’t turn away.
Delta handed the laptop to Agnes and wrapped her arms around me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize seeing the photos of the
boys would upset you so.”
“It’s just…” I struggled to get my words out. “I hate that I wasn’t there for him after the accident.”
“That boy is trouble on two legs.” Agnes pursed her lips. “He might have been raised here, but living in the big city
changed him.”
“What are you talking about?” Staring at the computer, Hazel cocked her head this way and that as if trying to find the
trouble, or knowing the elderly woman, she was checking out his legs.
“With hair like that, I bet he’s one of those metrosexuals,” Agnes spoke loud enough to be heard in the next county, and
certainly loud enough to be heard in the office.
“Agony.” Hazel gasped. “Do you even know what that word means?”
“Don’t call me that. And yes, Hazel, I do.” She harrumphed and folded her arms so dramatically, she put the twins to
shame.
Delta laughed. “We’ve been calling you that since dirt was young. You old bat.”
“Hush you. What is this, pick on Agnes day?”
“What does it mean, Agnes?” Hazel stretched out the other woman’s name into five syllables.
“What does what mean?” She scoffed.
Hazel cupped her hand beside her mouth and whisper shouted, “Met-ro-sex-u-al.”
Agnes glanced around the room, huffed, and threw up her hands. “They’re like those men on that drag racing show.”
Delta pointed a boney finger at one, and then the other, of her misbehaving friends. “Play nice. There are children present,
and I’m not talking about the two of you.”
Peeking around the corner, Paisley and Skylar watched the verbal sparring match like spectators at Wimbledon. They likely
had no idea what we were talking about, but both girls wore huge grins.
 Even Dixie, my grandma’s tiny Pomeranian, got in on the action by barking and spinning in circles.
Call it a stress induced nervous breakdown, but I started laughing and couldn’t stop.
Agnes shot to her feet and planted her hands on her oversized hips. “What’s so funny?”
Delta rolled her eyes so hard they did a complete three-sixty. “You. That’s what. Not only are you inappropriate, you’re
wrong. The people on Ru Paul’s show are drag queens. Metrosexuals are those pretty men like Ryan Seacrest and that Pirates
of the Caribbean actor.”
Agnes swept her arms out wide. “Oh please, enlighten us, Delta. Since you’re so damned knowledgeable.”
“As a matter of fact, I will.” Delta wiped her hands on her smock. “Hazel, take the girls home and get them a snack.”
As soon as the twins were out of earshot, my grandma proceeded to school Agnes on every letter in the LGBTQ alphabet—
and some that weren’t.
Chapter Two
 Chance

I HADN ’ T FALLEN ASLEEP IN THE GRASS SINCE I WAS A KID .

Sun on my face, cool breeze in my beard, the earthy scent of the cotton field a few yards away, it was perfect. Not even the
fact I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten there could spoil this moment of pure, unadulterated peace.
Memories of afternoons napping in a different field filled me with nostalgia. It struck me as funny that I could miss a
hometown that’d never felt much like home and was barely a town.
A horse-shaped cloud floated across the bright blue North Carolina sky. I stretched my arms out at my sides and dug my
fingers into the crunchy, sunbaked grass. “I should write a song about that cloud.”
“That’s a great idea. I’ll get you a pen and paper.” A police officer, with a face as brown and withered as the pasture,
stared down at me. “Right after I book you for trespassing, destruction of private property, and public intoxication.”
I was pretty sure I was trespassing, and now that he’d mentioned it, I vaguely remembered crashing into a fence. But public
intoxication? Absolutely not.
“I don’t drink.” I pushed myself upright or tried to.
He pinned me in place with a boot to the abdomen. “Stay down. On your belly. Now.”
This wasn’t my first brush with the law, but it was definitely the weirdest. “Can’t roll over with your heel in my gut.”
“Don’t try anything funny.” Hand hovering over his gun, he took a step back.
I rolled onto my stomach and clasped my hands behind my back. “I’m not drunk or high, if you’ll⁠—”
“Save it.” He muttered something about drug addicts and hippies under his breath. “Is that your hotrod a mile or so back?”
“Yeah. A deer came out of⁠—”
“Add driving under the influence to your list of charges.” He snapped cuffs on my wrists, yanked me to my feet, and hauled
me toward his car.
Pain shot from my right hip to the sole of my foot, but I managed to stay upright. Barely. “Careful of my right leg, I have
twenty-three pins⁠—”
“What you have is the right to remain silent. I suggest you exercise that right.” He smirked a familiar smirk that brought
back a rush of old memories.
I glanced from his sour expression to his name tag. “You don’t remember me, Chief Hobbs?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m Officer Hobbs. Chief Hobbs is my father.”
“Holy shit, Wyatt?” Man, did he get old. I laughed before I considered the wisdom of pissing off a guy with a gun. “I didn’t
recognize you. It’s me, Chance. Chance Alden.”
Wyatt glanced from my muddy boots to my overgrown beard and long hair. “Bullshit. Let’s go.”
“It’s me. Check my ID. It’s in my back pocket.”
“Nice try, buddy. If you’re Chance Alden, I’m the new King of England.” He swung the door open, put his hand on the top
of my head, and shoved me inside.
While I wasn’t expecting a homecoming parade, I never thought I’d be rolling into town for the first time in almost six
years, in the back of a police cruiser. “Come on, Wyatt. Check my ID.”
He slammed the door in my face and marched to the driver’s side of the cruiser.
In full freak-out mode, I sang the chorus of my first number one hit song, “Taking the Backroads Home.” It’d topped the
country music charts for six months and put the Vaughn-Alden Band on the map.
Wyatt spun around and stared slack jawed. “Chance? My God. What…? How…? Wow… You look like you stapled
roadkill to your face. Kinda smell like it too.”
I knew I looked bad, but not that bad. “It’s been a rough couple of years.”
“I was sorry to hear about Eli…”
I nodded. No matter how much time passed, I doubted I’d ever be able to talk about the accident that’d killed Elijah
Vaughn, my best friend and bandmate. Hell, judging by the events of the previous few hours, talking about it was the least of my
issues.
 He nodded toward the pasture. “What the heck happened? Mrs. Connelly called the station, said some lunatic was pitchin’
a hissy fit in her cotton field.”
“I hit a deer.” I left out the part where I’d had a panic attack, lost time, and woken up in the grass.
Wyatt took off his hat and mopped the sweat from his brow. “Your car’s a good mile down the road. How’d you end up
here?”
“I walked.”
He quirked a brow, an expression that reminded me too much of his hard-assed father. “And what? You got tired and
decided to take a nap?”
“I always fall asleep when I’m meditating,” I mumbled, well-aware I sounded like a nut-job.
“Why were you meditating on the side of the road?”
I stared out the window, unsure how to respond. I’d grown up with Wyatt Hobbs, but I didn’t talk about my PTSD with
anyone except my therapist, and even that was a crapshoot.
“Come on, Chance. I’m gonna need something more than that to tell my father…and Mrs. Connelly.” He cracked a grin.
“And don’t think she’s gonna let you off the hook because you’re famous. She’s had it out for you since the cow tipping incident
freshman year.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you and Eli were the ones who decided to ride the cow.” Memories of that night were more
bitter than sweet. Whoever had come up with that old saying about time healing all wounds had never watched their best friend
die.
“Things change. I’m an officer of the law, and you’re the bad boy of country music.” Wyatt lowered his voice. “Off the
record, are you drunk or on something?”
“The only thing I’m on is gas station coffee and Little Debbie oatmeal pies.” I drew a deep breath and looked him in the
eye. “If I tell you what happened, is it going to end up all over town?”
“Only if I put it in my report.” His expression softened. “But folks are gonna talk one way or the other. It’s better if we
come up with the story we want them to spread.”
Gotta love small towns.
“You’re right.” I had no choice but to trust him, but that didn’t mean I knew where to start.
“Where were you coming from?” Wyatt asked.
“Nashville.”
He whistled. “Ten hours is a long haul.”
“Yeah.” I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat. “I was fine until I hit the deer. It was like a switch flipped in my
head, and I was back in time to the night Eli…”
“I know what you mean. It was the same for me when I came back from Afghanistan.” Wyatt glanced away. “That’s why you
were meditating?”
I nodded. “It helps, even if I do fall asleep.”
“And the hissy fit?” He chuckled.
“I don’t remember. Maybe I was pacing? Yelling at God?”
“Been there myself a few times.” He dragged his hand down his face. “Okay. So, this is what happened. You hit a deer.
When you got out to check on the damage to your vehicle, you stepped in a yellow jacket nest. Those suckers will follow you
for miles.”
I liked where this was going, but we had a problem. “I don’t have any stings.”
“So they bit you through your clothes.” He motioned to my face. “Not that anyone could tell with all that fur. Seriously, man,
you look like a skinny version of that wooly fella from Harry Potter.”
“Hagrid?” I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or defend my honor. I chose the latter. “I was People Magazine’s second sexiest
man on the planet.”
“That was three years ago, and close only counts in horseshoes. Brag about it when you win.” He shook his head. “Chance-
freaking-Alden. I never thought you’d set foot back in Swans Harbor.”
“Technically, my feet aren’t in town limits.” I twisted to the side to remind him I was still cuffed. “Can you let me out of
these things, or are you going to arrest me for needing a haircut and shave?”
“Oh shit, I forgot about those. Although, I should arrest you for canceling your tour. Me and my girl had tickets for the show
in Raleigh.” Wyatt climbed out of the car, strolled to my side, and helped me out of the backseat.
My right foot slipped on the loose gravel. A jolt of pain shot from my heel to my ass cheek. The shock of it had me gasping
for air and struggling to keep my balance—which was impossible with my hands cuffed behind my back.
He steadied me before I hit the ground. “Damn. I’m sorry. I heard you were hurt in the accident, but I didn’t realize… Is that
why you canceled the tour?”
“I hated to disappoint the fans, but I couldn’t do it.” I turned so he could remove the handcuffs, but also so he wouldn’t see
the half-lie in my eyes.
 The official statement from my publicist blamed on-going health issues for the cancellation. The tabloids said I’d gone into
rehab. Industry insiders whispered shitty album sales and half-empty stadiums marked the end of my career. They were all
right. Except I hadn’t gone to drug and alcohol rehab. I’d spent months in intensive physical therapy. As for my career, it was
hanging by a thread, but I had a plan to save it.
I rubbed my chafed wrists. “Any chance you can give me a ride?”
“Sure thing. Climb in.” Wyatt nodded to the front seat. “Did you call a tow truck before your nap?”
I’d been so busy trying to talk myself out of the back of the cop car that I’d forgotten about the mess the deer had gotten me
into. “No, but I will. I need the paperwork from the glovebox, and my guitar and suitcase from the trunk.”
I eased into the front seat and sent up a silent prayer that the Eastern Carolina heat hadn’t warped the wood on my vintage
Gibson six-string.
Wyatt pulled the car onto the road. “Where are you staying?”
“Out at the farm. My folks are in Europe for another week or so, but Sundae’s home for the summer. Plus, Graham’s staying
there while his house is being built.” It’d been a few years since I’d seen my baby sister and older brother, but we talked often.
Like all my brothers, I’d bounced from boys’ homes to foster care until the Aldens had adopted me. Maybe it was because
we’d gone through the same kind of hell, or maybe it was ending up with amazing parents, but the Alden boys were tighter than
most siblings—and don’t get me started on Sundae, the only girl, and the baby of the family.
He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “The farm’s a good fifteen miles from the station. Mind if I drop you off in town
first? I can run you out there after I file my report.”
“That works. I have some business to see to.” I didn’t elaborate on said business. The last thing I needed was to add more
grist to the rumor mill.
“I heard you were engaged to Miranda Bishop.” Wyatt wiggled his brows. “You lucky SOB. Don’t suppose she’s joining
you? Meeting the family before the big day?”
“Randi and I aren’t together,” I said, a little rougher than I’d intended. The shit show, otherwise known as my engagement,
was the last thing I wanted to discuss.
Wyatt pulled off the road and eased behind my four-wheeled baby, a silver 1971 Pontiac GTO Judge convertible. “Wooo-
wee she’s a beauty. Musta cost you a fortune.”
“Nah, believe it or not, I found her in a junkyard. Restored her myself.” I hopped out of the car to put an end to the
conversation. Growing up the way I had, I doubted I’d ever get used to talking about money. Let alone having any.
Wyatt followed me to the GTO and eyed the damage to the front end and windshield. “I bet old Silas Green can have this
fixed up in no time.”
Normally, I wouldn’t let anyone touch the car, but desperate times and all that. “Does he still have a tow truck?”
“Yep. As a matter of fact…” He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and rocked back on his heels, the redneck signal
for preparing to launch into a long-drawn-out story.
Rather than continuing to bake on the side of the road, I attempted to change the subject. “Is Delta still running the salon?”
Wyatt blinked as if having trouble shifting gears. “Uh, yeah, but Truly manages things now. She moved in with Delta before
the girls were born.”
Truly Callaway, the mother of my best friend’s twins, the love of my life, and the woman who’d either save, or destroy, my
career. If the stars aligned, she’d help me find what I needed to save my sorry ass. If not, the news media would have a lot
more to say about Chance Alden’s epic fall from country music grace.
Seeing Truly again would likely bring up old feelings, but I wasn’t about to rekindle something with my dead best friend’s
baby-momma. Nope. I had a plan—convince her to help me find the sheet music and get out of town.
I nodded, more to myself than to Wyatt. “Don’t worry about driving me to the farm later. I’ll have Graham pick me up after
I pay my respects to Miss Delta.”
“You might want to swing by the barber shop first. Things have changed since you left home, but I don’t think Swans
Harbor is ready for Sasquatch chic.”
Chapter Three
 Truly

DELTA DAWN ’ S BEAUTY P ALACE WAS A LOT OF THINGS , BUT QUIET WASN ’ T ONE OF THEM. BETWEEN THE CHATTY CUSTOMERS ,
the whirring hair dryers, and the laughter of my five-year-old twins, the noise level inside the old wood frame building made a
tornado siren seem like a whisper.
That is, until Chance Alden walked in.
Every female in the place gawked at the man in black, including me. Heck, my grandma dropped the curler she was putting
in Agnes’s hair and let out a squeal that would make a teen girl jealous.
It wasn’t every day a country music star waltzed into the salon. But I didn’t stare because he was good looking. We’d
grown up together. I was immune to his handsome smile. And I didn’t stare because he was famous. I’d been around in the
early days when he’d been scared to sing in public. Nor did I stare because I was surprised to see him. Chance had come and
gone through that door more times than I could count.
I stared because he’d never come home alone.
And my stupid heart kept looking for his partner in crime—Eli.
Chance leaned against the door frame wearing a bad boy grin. “Hey, Truly.”
I couldn’t get over how different he looked, how grown up. Gone was the string bean who’d left Swans Harbor with
nothing more than an old guitar and a big dream. In his place stood a full-grown man. From the nicks on his jaw, I guessed he’d
recently shaved, and he’d grown out his jet-black hair long enough to twist it into a man-bun.
Paisley and Skylar whispered something back and forth, but I couldn’t make out their words over my pulse roaring in my
ears.
“You two must be the Callaway twins.” He knelt to their eye level and motioned between them. “Which one of you is
Paisley, and which is Skylar?”
Paisley bit her bottom lip and darted toward a child-sized table in the back of the salon.
Her sister wasn’t nearly as shy.
“I’m Skylar, but I go by Sky.” She stared as if she too was waiting for her daddy to walk in behind him. Only that was
impossible. She had barely been three when Eli died.
“Nice to meet you, Sky.” He held out his hand, but rather than getting close enough to touch him, she ran after her twin.
“Chance…” My voice cracked like a baby rooster crowing at his first dawn. “What…what are you doing here?”
It’s been years. Why’s he here now? Is it because of the lawsuit?
“I was hoping we could talk.” His velvet-smooth tone felt like a caress, and based on the chorus of sighs behind me, every
woman in the room had the same reaction.
“Oh… I…” Too damned many memories flashed through my brain.
Days collecting mussels in the marsh. Nights curled up beside a bonfire. Wild escapes in an old red truck to anywhere
away from the watchful eyes of parents, relatives, and nosy townsfolk. Tearful goodbyes and joyful reunions…and that last
goodbye. The one that’d broken both our hearts.
“It’s good to see you again, Chance.” Delta, God bless her soul, filled the heavy silence.
“Good to see you too, Ms. Delta. You’re looking as pretty as ever.” He winked, and my grandma blushed.
“And you’re still able to flatter the fleas off a hound dog.” She made a show of fanning herself before shooting me a
worried look. She had to know seeing Chance again was hitting me like a fist to the gut. “Truly will be right with you as soon
as she finishes up with Miss Hazel’s manicure. Won’t ya, Tru?”
I loved her for buying me some time, but a few minutes wouldn’t be long enough to get my head on straight. “Yes. Of
course.”
“No rush.” Chance stepped out of the glare of the afternoon sun and perused a selection of sea glass jewelry in the display
cabinet near the register.
I tore my gaze away from him and frowned at the blob of pink lemonade colored polish that’d dripped on Miss Hazel’s
hand. Cheeks burning, I put the brush back into the bottle and fumbled for the remover. “Sorry about that.”
 “Don’t worry about it, sugar. He’s a mighty distracting man.” She gave me an understanding smile, before leaning close to
whisper, “But you need to be careful. Agnes was right—he ain’t the same boy who left town all those years ago.”
I risked another glance in his direction. I’d seen him on TV and the internet several times over the years, but that was like
looking at photos in an old scrapbook. Pleasant, but flat. In person… My goodness, in person, the man had a gravitational pull
all his own.
Hazel gave him a once over. “But he sure is pretty.”
Chance turned his head, and my breath caught. The light streaming in the plate-glass windows illuminated the spider web of
scars on the right side of his face and neck. Sexy country singer, best friend, first love, whatever I’d called him before didn’t
matter. In that moment, Chance Alden was a walking, breathing reminder of everything I’d lost.
My grandma put the last roller in Agnes’s hair. Wiping her hands on her apron, she crossed the room and drew him into a
big hug. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
He flashed her the same smile that’d graced the covers of countless magazines. “I was wondering when I’d get one of
Delta’s world-famous hugs.”
“Why, you haven’t changed at all. Not one whit. Except for this gorgeous mane of yours.” She tugged his hair loose and ran
her fingers through the silky strands. “I know plenty of women who would kill for this.”
“Forget the hussies. He should donate it to bald headed kids with cancer,” Agnes Abernathy muttered.
Chance laughed. “Good to see you too, Ms. Agnes. Still keeping us mere mortals in line, I see.”
She flubbed her lips, but her cheeks reddened.
“Don’t you listen to her. It’d be a sin to cut this off.” Delta patted his chest. “I can’t believe you’re finally home. What’s it
been now? Five, six years?”
He winced. “Something like that.”
She seemed to realize what she’d said and lowered her chin.
Delta was right. Chance hadn’t darkened our door since I’d told him I was pregnant with Eli’s daughters.
“How long are you in town?” This from Agnes, who could never resist butting into other people’s conversations.
“At least a couple weeks. Maybe longer. I’d like to spend some time with my folks when they get back from Europe.” He
glanced at me, and for the first time in my life, I couldn’t read his expression.
“Where are you staying?” Delta’s voice turned syrupy sweet, the tone she used when she was up to something, and I knew
exactly what she had in mind.
I shot to my feet. “That’s really none of our business. Is it?”
Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to me. Hazel, Agnes, and the twins stared with wide eyes, but Delta
gave me a knowing look. And Chance? He grinned the sort of grin that made me nervous. My grandma wasn’t the only one up to
no good.
“Nonsense.” Delta turned her attention back to Chance. “You can’t stay out on the farm. It’s too far away from the action,
and there’s no way I’m letting you pay for one of those swanky new bed and breakfasts.”
He furrowed his brow. “Since when does Swans Harbor have BnBs?”
“Since the new mayor decided to turn us into the next New Bern.” Agnes snorted. “The whole town is getting gentrified
with hipster hooey.”
“Next she’ll be telling him about the new statue to her namesake,” Hazel mumbled.
He flashed that devilish grin of his. “Swans Harbor gentrified? Now, that’s something I’d like to see.”
I needed to do something. Fast.
Delta’s smile widened. “Truly and I have a new side hustle. We rent rooms through AirBNB. It’s our way of sticking it to
those Yankee snobs who run the BnBs.”
“Oh yeah?” Chance shot me a quick glance.
“You can’t stay with us. The apartment over the studio is booked.” I blurted out the lie before I could stop myself. What can
I say? I was desperate. No way would my battered heart survive being that close to Chance Alden for…what had he said?
Weeks? A month? Longer?
Delta planted her hands on her hips. “We didn’t have any reservations this morning. I checked.”
“Someone must have booked the place since then.” I gave Chance an apologetic smile, but he was too busy fiddling with
his phone to notice.
Hazel lowered her glasses and looked down her nose. She frowned so deep, her chin disappeared into the wrinkles on her
neck. “Delta, think about what you’re saying.”
“AirBNB my fanny. You two are crazy for taking in strangers.” Agnes shook her head. “You’re begging for trouble.”
For once, I agreed with Agnes. Having Chance here was absolutely begging for trouble, but not the kind she suggested.
“I’ll check the website.” My traitorous grandma winked at Chance.
“No need.” He shrugged. “Your previous reservation must have canceled.”
“How do you know that?” I glanced from his stupid expression to the phone in his hand and knew the answer before he
replied.
He slid his cell into his back pocket. “I booked the apartment online.”
“You what?” I shouted over Hazel and Agnes’s grumbling. “Cancel it or I will.”
I’d gotten so caught up in the situation, that I’d forgotten the girls were in the room until Paisley tugged on my shirt. “Why
are you yelling, Momma? Are you mad?”
Damn it.
Ignoring the so-called adults in the room, I knelt beside her. “No, I’m not mad. I was surprised, is all.”
She tilted her head and pursed her lips as if she didn’t quite believe me.
Great. Just great.
Chance pulled his phone out again. “I didn’t mean to surprise you, Tru. I’ll cancel the reservation.”
That he’d used the same word I had to keep from upsetting Paisley softened me up, or maybe I realized I was being a jerk.
Either way, I had a change of heart. “No. Don’t. It’s fine. Give me a minute, and I’ll show you the apartment.”
He hitched his thumb toward the back door. “Mind if I wait for you on the porch?”
Not trusting my voice, I nodded.
Hazel and Agnes watched him go through narrowed eyes. They’d known him his entire life, but that didn’t matter anymore.
He’d committed the ultimate sin, and it had nothing to do with booking the apartment or the rumors swirling around his music
career or his long hair. He’d left Swans Harbor. And that made him an outsider. Or worse…a stranger.
Skylar, who’d been shampooing her Barbie doll’s hair, rushed over to me. “Momma, is that our daddy?”
My heart shattering to bits, I did my best to ignore the pity in everyone’s eyes. “No, Sky. That’s your Uncle Chance. He was
mine and your daddy’s very best friend.”
“Then he’s our best friend too.” She glanced at her sister. “Right, Paisley Rose?”
“Right.” She chewed her lower lip. “But are you sure you’re not mad at him?”
“No, baby. I promise I’m not upset. I was surprised to see him. It’s been a really long time since he’s been home.” My
voice cracked. My life might not have turned out the way I’d imagined, but my sweet girls made the struggles worthwhile.
Skylar glanced over her shoulders as if to make sure no one was listening—everyone was listening. She leaned close and
whispered, “Can I go outside with him?”
“Maybe later. It’s best if you let me talk to him first.” I nodded to the water dripping off the doll. “Grab a towel and clean
that up before someone slips and falls.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She darted off toward the linen closet.
I sat and turned my attention back to Miss Hazel’s manicure, but my heart wasn’t in it. “Mercy me. I can’t remember if I did
the second coat.”
Delta rested her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Truly. If you want me to tell him to leave⁠—”
“No.” I shook my head. “This will be good. It’s past time Chance and I talked about some hard things.”
As much as I’d denied it to her, and myself, I needed answers about Eli’s accident and my lawsuit and why he’d ghosted me
after I’d told him I was pregnant.
Seeming to know exactly what things I’d referred to, she nodded. “Why don’t I finish up here, so you can go see to our
guest?”
“Thanks.” I stood, smoothed my sundress over my hips, and my flyaways back into my ponytail.
“Be careful, Truly.” Hazel frowned. “As much as we’d love for you to find someone special, he’s not the stayin’ around
kind.”
Agnes pointed at me. “Remember what I said about him last week. You can’t trust a metrosexual. They’ll always think
they’re prettier than you.”
Delta threw up her hands. “Don’t start that nonsense again. What’s he going to do, steal her beauty products?”
Shaking her head, Hazel clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. “I don’t like the idea of him staying here anymore than
you do, Agnes. But he’s about as much a metrosexual as Pastor Callaway.”
I cringed at the mention of my father. Sunday sermon would undoubtedly be a thinly veiled message about the evils of sex,
booze, and country music—in other words, Chance Alden.
“All I’m saying is y’all might want to start locking your doors at night,” Agnes said.
Hazel planted her hands on her hips. “You and I have both known that boy since he was freshly weaned from the T-I-T.”
What little control I’d gotten over myself vanished at Hazel’s outburst. Always one to laugh at inappropriate moments, I
cracked up. Before long, Delta and Hazel joined in. Even the girls, who I hoped had no idea what was so funny, giggled.
“That’s it.” Agnes threw her hands up, grabbed her purse, and marched to the door. “I’m not going to stand around here and
be laughed at.”
“Oh, Agnes. You can’t leave yet. You still have curlers in your hair.” Delta motioned to the rows of bright pink rollers
covering the woman’s head.
“You be careful with that one, Truly Beth. Anyone with eyes in their head can see something ain’t right with that boy.”
Agnes blew a raspberry at Hazel and stormed out.
Wow.
“Dollars to donuts, the whole town will know poor Chance is a metrosexual before sunset.” Delta shook the bottle of pink
lemonade nail polish and turned her attention to Hazel. “Now, let’s get your nails finished.”
I had no doubt my grandma was right. Besides fishing and church, gossiping was about the only thing to do to pass the time.
“I’ll keep an eye on the girls.” Delta nodded to the back door. “I think you’ve kept him waiting long enough.”
“Yes ma’am.” I gathered my strength and my courage and walked outside to talk to Chance.
Here goes nothin’.
Chapter Four
 Chance

S TANDING ON THE BACK PORCH, I COULDN ’ T HELP BUT OVERHEAR THE CONVERSATION GOING ON INSIDE THE SALON . THAT OLD
saying, the more things change, the more they stay the same, had never been truer. As one of those troubled Alden boys, most
of the townsfolk had treated me like a stray dog. Some had given me scraps, some had kicked me, but only one had welcomed
me into her home—Delta Callaway.
Her son, on the other hand, had taken a dislike to me the first time he’d laid eyes on me. The older I’d grown, the more that
dislike had turned to hatred. When I picked Truly up for the prom, Pastor Callaway had pulled me aside and made it abundantly
clear after that night, I was to stay away from his daughter.
Not that I could blame him. I had nothing going for me other than decent looks, a secondhand guitar, and a bone deep need
to never eat beans for dinner again. But it turned out the joke was on him. I wasn’t the one who had gotten his daughter
pregnant. Unlike Eli, I’d have married her on the spot.
Truly stepped out the back door and eyed me, her expression somewhere between shock, curiosity, and fear. “Sorry, that
took me so long.”
“I’m in no rush.” I forced a smile. The pain in her pretty brown eyes broke my heart. Once upon a time, she’d looked at me
like I’d hung the moon and the stars.
“And I’m sorry about them.” She motioned back toward the salon. “The older they get, the less their brain-to-mouth filters
work.”
“Eh, my stylist, manicurist, and aesthetician will be glad to hear all their hard work is paying off. I’ve officially reached
metrosexual status.”
She laughed, and for a split second, I caught a glimpse of the girl she used to be before life had stolen her smile. “I figured
it took a team to make you look so good, but I never thought I’d hear you admit it.”
“You still think I’m good lookin’?” I shoved my hands in my pockets and gave her my best aw-shucks grin.
“It’s not news, Chance. Half the world thinks so.” Truly blushed and dipped her chin, the same way she had when I’d asked
her out on our first date.
We stared at each other for a long moment. Her likely waiting for me to say something, and me unable to form a sentence.
She seemed to catch herself smiling and glanced away. “You didn’t come all this way to flirt. What can I do for you?”
I ran my hand over the back of my neck. “I…uh…was wonderin’ if you still had the music Eli was working on before he…”
“Died?”
I nodded.
She narrowed her eyes. “And you’re looking for the music he was writing?”
I nodded again, unsure why she seemed so skeptical. “If that’s okay with you.”
“As long as it’s stuff Eli wrote, why would I care?”
Confused, I studied her. When had she become so damned jaded? “I don’t know, but I think you do.”
“You don’t know, do you?” Her words came out like an accusation.
“Know what? What are you talking about?”
The color drained from her face. “Oh…”
“Oh?” I waited for her to explain. When she didn’t, I asked, “What’s going on?”
“The court case.” She met my gaze. “You really don’t know?”
“I guess I don’t.” I wracked my brain for an explanation. “Is this about Eli’s estate? I know he didn’t have a will, but it’s
been two years. Isn’t that all settled by now?”
“Eli left everything a mess.” She wrapped her arms around her middle as if to hold herself together.
The topic had upset her, or I’d upset her. Either way, I wanted to know what was going on in that head of hers. “Talk to
me.”
She bit her lower lip, likely to stop it from trembling.
“Hey, it’s okay. I miss him too.” Out of habit, I brushed my knuckles across her cheek.
 She jerked back as if I’d scorched her, walked to the far side of the porch, and checked her phone. “We have a lot to
discuss, but I have another client coming in fifteen minutes.”
“Okay.” Besides Eli’s estate, I could think of about a million things she’d want to talk about, and none of them were good.
Truly hitched a shoulder. “You’re welcome to look for the music. Everything’s pretty much where Eli left it.”
My heart thudded to life. “You still have his studio? I thought you would have converted it to a playroom or office or
something useful.”
“I’ve thought about it.” She met my gaze. “The only thing I ask is that you not take anything out of there before we talk.”
“Sure.” The request struck me as odd, but I was too stunned by the fact she’d kept the studio intact to ask questions.
Eli, Truly, and I had spent most of our teen years in the old carriage house. At first, we’d used the dusty building as a
hangout, but when Eli and I discovered music, it had become our practice pad. It wasn’t until after we’d signed our first record
deal that we’d converted the space into a proper studio complete with a place to crash on the second floor.
As if she’d read my mind, Truly said, “The apartment looks a lot different these days.”
“Yeah?” A cold shiver ran down my spine. What had seemed like a great idea thirty seconds ago suddenly scared the shit
out of me. Being back in this God forsaken town was hard enough. Renovated or not, how could I sleep in a glorified
mausoleum?
“I’m actually surprised it wasn’t booked.” She gave me a crooked grin. “It’s become like a mini-Graceland. Morbid fans
wanting to see where the Vaughn-Alden Band got their start. I’ve even had some ghost hunters stay there. They claimed Eli
played them a song from the great beyond.”
“That’s…wrong.” I scowled. “He would hate having strangers⁠—”
“Relax. I don’t let anyone in the studio, and I was kidding about the ghost hunters.” Truly laughed. “It’s just a way to make a
little money.”
That she had to take in strangers to make ends meet confused me. Eli’s estate should have more than provided for her and
the girls. “Can I see the apartment?”
“Sure.” She headed across the lawn toward the back of Delta’s huge house.
I stared, mesmerized by her long ponytail swaying in rhythm with her hips. Truly Callaway had always been a beautiful
girl, but she’d turned into a stunning woman. Between her sun-bleached, waist-length hair, deep brown eyes, and lips that made
a man think things he shouldn’t, I was a goner.
Truly stopped halfway across the lawn and glanced over her shoulder. “You coming?”
“Yeah.” I fell in step beside her. “I saw a little of the town today. It looks different. I barely recognized it.”
“The new mayor has been working to make Swans Harbor a tourist destination instead of a pitstop on the way to the Outer
Banks.”
I winked. “I believe Agnes called it gentrified hipster hooey.”
“Whatever you call it, it’s nice to have more than one restaurant.”
“Please tell me Kiss My Grits hasn’t changed.” I loved the old diner. Besides Truly and my folks, their chicken fried steak
was the one thing I’d missed in Swans Harbor.
“It’s still open. Got a fresh coat of paint and expanded menu, but they still have that deep-fried chicken covered in gravy
you used to like so much.” Truly led me through the garden, to the carriage house.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed the old place. Everything from the tire swing hanging from the oak tree to the
fountain bubbling in the koi pond, reminded me of the good parts of my childhood. In interviews, it was so easy to talk about
the nightmare of growing up in the system. To push the image of the poor little orphan who’d made it big. Why hadn’t I
mentioned my parents or this place or the kindness Delta had shown me?
“It’s a little dusty.” Truly opened the heavy door, stepped inside, and hurried to the thermostat. “And hot. I’ll turn the AC
down to cool it off, but don’t let me forget to change it back when we leave.”
“Will do.” I stopped in my tracks. The studio was exactly how I remembered it.
On one side of the room, an old computer sat on the big black desk we’d picked up at the Goodwill in Greenville. We’d
thought we were hot shit when the cable company had run internet to our official office. An ancient drum kit, guitars, and a
piano took up the other side of the space.
Truly rested her hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”
Her soft touch brought back an entirely different set of memories. The first time I held her hand. Our first kiss. The first
time I told her I loved her. Prom, the night I broke her heart. And our last goodbye—the night she broke mine.
“Chance?”
I took a step back in hopes the distance would clear my head. “It’s like walking through a time warp. Everything looks the
same, except the Steinway. It’s quite an improvement over that old upright from your dad’s church.”
“Eli bought it so I could teach the twins to play.” She nodded to the baby grand.
“Are they musicians?”
“They’re learning.” She straightened a stack of music books. “I taught lessons out here for a while, but kids nowadays
prefer electronic keyboards to the real thing.”
“It’s the same with the pros. Everyone wants over-produced studio garbage. None of it has soul.” I ran my fingertips over
the dark gray soundproofing on the walls. Eli and I had installed it ourselves. At the time, we could barely afford the materials,
let alone the extra cost to have someone put it in. “This is… It’s exactly like I remember.”
“Not exactly.” She picked up a pile of Barbie dolls and threw them into a pink toy box near the door. “The girls and I sit
out here when we’re missing Eli.”
“They remember him?” I wished I could take back the question the second it’d left my big mouth.
Truly’s shoulders fell, and she shook her head. “Not really, but I keep a picture of him in their room, and they’ve heard all
the stories.”
I needed to do something to make her smile, so I went with humor. “Not all the stories, I hope?”
“No. There are some things about their father that I hope they never find out.” She turned and walked upstairs.
I agreed one hundred percent. There were some things about Eli I hoped Truly never found out. Ignoring the pain in my leg,
I trudged up behind her.
“Guests use the exterior staircase, but this way is more convenient if you’re in the studio.” She paused to unlock the door.
“Thanks, Tru. I really appreciate this.”
She nodded and led me into the apartment. “It’s not fancy, but it should have everything you need.”
Truly wasn’t kidding when she said she’d renovated. She’d added a kitchen, complete with a narrow refrigerator, small
stove, and enough crisp white cabinets to hold the essentials. A stainless-steel rolling island served double duty as extra prep-
space and a dining area. Off the kitchen were a loveseat and coffee table. A queen-sized bed sat in the far corner. Large
windows and crisp pastel-colored linens gave the entire space a light, bright feel.
Blown away, I said, “This is nicer than some of the places I rented in Nashville.”
“Thanks.” She pointed to the double doors on the back wall. “There’s a good-sized closet and a full bath.”
I peeked in the bathroom and smiled. She’d gone with black and white basketweave tile on the floor, white subway tiles in
the shower, and dusty rose paint on the walls. It was feminine, but cozy. “This is great, but I insist you toss me out if you get a
real booking.”
“No need. You paid for the month.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Are you planning on staying longer
than that?”
As long as it takes to either find Eli’s songs or find my muse. Preferably both.
“I don’t know, maybe?” I shrugged as if it was no big deal, but I wanted to gauge her reaction.
Her eyes widened.
“I could stay at the farm if⁠—”
“No, it’s fine.” She let out a nervous laugh. “I figured you’d high tail it out of here as soon as you found the sheet music.”
I’d planned to do just that, but now that I was here, I wanted to stick around a little while longer. “I’d like to spend some
time with you and the twins, if that’s all right?”
She crossed the room and opened a small closet. “There are extra sheets and blankets in here. There isn’t a washer, but you
can use the one in the main house any weekday or the one in the salon after hours. No pets, no overnight guests, and don’t use
the toaster and microwave at the same time. You’ll blow the fuse.”
“All of that’s fine.” I hadn’t missed the fact she’d avoided my question. Nor had I missed how she’d wrung her hands as
she went through the details of the rental.
Truly folded her arms. “I should get back to the salon.”
“What time do you take lunch? I’m meeting Graham for a quick bite. I’d love for you to join us.”
She looked everywhere except at me. “I have to cram for a final after I’m finished with my next client.”
That she hadn’t finished college surprised me. “Still studying music composition?”
Her expression sank, along with her shoulders. “Business. It’s a safer bet since I’ll be taking over the salon when Delta
retires.”
“Is that what you want?”
She’d gotten her cosmetology license right out of high school so she could work in a salon while attending college. Cutting
hair and doing nails had been a means to an end, not the goal. For as long as I could remember, she’d wanted to write music.
“Not everyone’s dreams come true, Chance.” Truly motioned to the door. “After you.”
I wanted to lock her in the apartment until she talked to me. Really talked, not the verbal tap dance we’d been doing. I
wanted us to be like before when we’d sit for hours daydreaming about the future. Hell, I would have settled for a genuine
smile, but I knew better than to push. Truly Callaway was as stubborn as a mule in a hayfield.
“I should go. Graham’s waiting, and I need to get my bags and guitar from Wyatt.” I walked downstairs. “I’ll see you in a
couple hours.”
She followed me. “I’m sorry, Chance. I don’t mean to be so standoffish.”
“Hey, it’s okay. I understand.” I took her hands in mine. “I took you by surprise today. I bet having dinner with me tonight
would help the shock wear off.”
Truly went quiet long enough to make me antsy. I knew her, or at least I used to. There were two possible reasons she
hadn’t answered me outright. One, she didn’t want to hurt my feelings, and two, she needed time to come up with a plausible
lie.
“I’m…um… I’m seeing someone.” She squared her shoulders and raised her chin.
Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I didn’t believe her. “Is that right? Anyone I know?”
“No. He’s new in town.” She fidgeted with her ponytail—a sure sign she was full of shit.
Ninety-nine-point-nine percent convinced she was making it up as she went along, I decided to push. “How long has this
been going on? Is he good to you and the girls? Because if not, I’d be happy to set him straight.”
“Not long.” She hitched her shoulder. “And if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not talk about him.”
“Suit yourself.”
Truly turned and speed-walked back to the salon. If she noticed me struggling to keep up, she didn’t let on. I caught up with
her at the back door, but for once, kept my mouth shut.
Delta’s unmistakable voice drifted out onto the porch. “Well, I think it’s about dang time she started dating again. It’s been
too long, and she’s too young to be holed up in that old house with me.”
Another of the ladies replied, “She could do worse than Chance Alden. Did you see his backside? Woo wee. That man
gave me hot flashes.”
“Best buns this side of the Mason Dixon. If she doesn’t snatch him up, someone else will.” Delta cackled. “Lord knows,
there aren’t many single men in these parts.”
I turned to Truly and arched a brow. “A boyfriend, huh?”
She glanced from me to the screen door, and finally back to the carriage house. “Oh shoot. I forgot to turn the AC back to
normal. It’ll freeze up if it’s set below seventy.”
I opened my mouth to call her out on her fib, but before I had the chance, she bolted across the lawn.
You can run, sweetheart, but you can’t hide. Not this time.
Chapter Five
 Truly

“Y’ ALL DO REALIZE YOUR VOICES CARRY ALL THE WAY TO THE STATE LINE, DON ’ T YOU?” I WALKED INTO THE SALON THROUGH
the back door only to find all three ladies, and my twin girls, staring out the front window.
All five ignored me.
Agnes had returned at some point, bright pink curlers still in her hair. “Y’all are all goin’ to H-E-double-hockey-sticks, and
you’re contributing to the delinquency of minors.”
“Hush, you. You’re ruinin’ the show.” Delta waved me over. “Come take a look.”
I moved beside her and stared as Chance spoke into his cell phone with his back to us. He chose that moment to bend over
and brush dust off his jeans.
“Lord, have mercy,” Hazel whispered.
After knowing the man my entire life, I’d thought I was immune to his charms, but I was wrong. So wrong. The alluring
curve of his backside caught me in its spell like it had the rest of the women.
That’s one seriously nice ass.
Chance glanced back at the salon and caught us staring. However, he didn’t seem to notice the others. Nope, his deep
brown eyes locked on mine. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he flashed me a cocky grin that was one-hundred percent male.
“Those dimples.” Hazel fanned herself.
“He winked.” My grandma grabbed my arm and shook it hard enough to dislocate my shoulder. “Did you see that? He
winked at you, Truly Beth.”
Cheeks blazing, I ducked behind Hazel and slunk out of sight.
“Momma?” Grinning, Skylar tilted her head. “I think your very best friend wants to kiss you.”
“Out of the mouths of babes.” Hazel laughed, and the others followed suit.
“He’s just being nice, honey,” I said to my daughter, before shooting Delta and her crew of horny old ladies, the evil eye.
“He’s nothin’ but trouble. I heard Wyatt Hobbs dragged him into the police station in handcuffs this morning.” Agnes’s
voice rose. “The police report said he was ate up with yellow jackets, but I didn’t see a bite on him.”
“That’s nonsense.” Delta huffed. “We would have heard about it if he’d been arrested.”
I made a mental note to ask Chance why Wyatt Hobbs had his luggage and guitar.
Agnes huffed. “Maybe so, but I bet there’s nothing he loves more than the sight of his own reflection.”
“Leave that boy alone, Agony.” Delta walked back to her station. “Besides, I didn’t see you covering your eyes.”
“Someone has to keep you looney tunes in line.” She smirked. “Now, are you gonna take these curlers out before the good
Lord returns, or what?”
“Yes, yes. Calm down. Before your hot head melts the plastic to your hair.” Delta blew out an exasperated breath.
“Those buns though…like two kaiser rolls tucked into the back of his jeans.” Hazel sighed like a teen girl. “My Carl never
had that kind of junk in his trunk.”
“Momma, all this talk about buns is making me want a hotdog.” Paisley rubbed her tummy.
“Me too, darlin’. Me too,” Hazel said, which sent the entire salon into a fit of giggles.
“You all are incorrigible.” Agnes shot to her feet and offered my daughter her hand. “Come on, baby girl. Let’s go see what
your great grandma has in her fridge.”
“You’re still in curlers.” Delta moved as if to follow her.
“And you’re still a P-E-R-V-E-R-T.” Agnes turned to me. “Don’t suppose you have any wieners⁠—”
The over seventy crowd cracked up again, and I had to agree with Agnes. They were incorrigible.
“Oh, for the love of Pete.” Agnes glared.
Holding her belly, Delta said, “There’s a pack of jumbo franks in the meat drawer.”
“I bet Chance has something jumbo in his drawers too.” Hazel wiggled her eyebrows.
“Come on, let’s get you two a snack.” Agnes marched out of the salon with two giggling girls on her heels.
“Oh, he’s a snack, all right,” Delta called after her.
 Agnes flipped us the bird over her shoulder.
I collapsed into the chair Agnes had vacated. “I’m not sure she’s the best influence on the twins.”
“They’ll be fine. You grew up around her and look how well you turned out.” Delta moved behind me and pulled my hair
out of the ponytail. “What do you say, we take a few inches off the bottom. Maybe put in some layers?”
“I don’t have time for a haircut. Mrs. Anderson will be here any minute.”
“She canceled her appointment. Poor thing isn’t feeling well.” Delta reached for her comb. “Which gives us enough time
for a haircut.”
“I have to study.” I knew what she was up to. A new look, to catch Chance’s eye. I started to stand, but she pushed me back
into the chair.
“Nonsense. Everyone has time for a little pampering.” Delta gave Hazel a quick nod.
“I’m gonna go check on Agony and the girls.” She hurried out, leaving me alone with my grandma.
“I don’t know what I would do without the three of you.” I met Delta’s eyes in the mirror.
“It’s been our greatest pleasure to help you with those little angels.” She ran a brush through my hair as she spoke. “As long
as I walk this earth, I’ll never understand how menfolk can turn their backs on their children.”
Having my hair brushed relaxed me better than an entire bottle of wine. “Daddy came around, with the girls anyway.”
“I wasn’t talking about him, though he is as stubborn as the day is long. Your poor momma must have been rolling in her
grave over the way he treated you.” She brushed so hard I feared she’d render me bald.
“Ouch.”
“Sorry.” Delta patted my head before grabbing a squirt bottle and a pair of scissors. “I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead,
but Eli never did right by those girls. Or you for that matter.”
There was no use in arguing with the truth. He’d visited when he could, but he’d spent most of his time in the studio. As for
how he’d treated me, I wasn’t ready to think about it.
“Gram, maybe we shouldn’t talk about this when you’re holding a sharp object.” I forced a smile.
“I can’t help it. Nothing that happened back then has ever made sense to me.” She plopped down at the next station and
spun my chair to face her. “I know you and Eli agreed to wait to get married, but Truly…is that what you really wanted? Was
he what you really wanted?”
She’d asked me the same questions more times than I could count, but I’d never been completely honest. I’d never admitted
Chance had my heart, because after being my first boyfriend, first kiss—first just about everything—he’d decided we were
better off as friends. As for my relationship with Eli, it was complicated.
When anyone had asked, I’d painted a pretty picture of two people waiting for the right time to get married. But that was
bullshit. I’d been too embarrassed to tell the truth.
I’d loved him. For a short time, I’d hoped we’d be a family. Once the pregnancy hormones had worn off, I realized that was
never going to happen. We lived in two different worlds. I focused on building a life for me and the twins. Eli didn’t want to
grow up, let alone settle down and be the man we needed him to be. He was busy with the band and fame and all that came
with it.
Delta patted my knee. “Your silence is answer enough for me.”
Gathering my thoughts, I shook my head. “I didn’t push for marriage because Eli and I were heading in different directions,
and we both knew it.”
Delta didn’t seem surprised. “And Eli had a thing for the ladies.”
My mouth fell open.
She laughed softly. “I might be old, but I’m not blind.”
“He was one of my best friends, and I’ll always love him for giving me my girls.” I wrinkled my nose. “But yeah, he was a
hound dog.”
She stood, picked up the scissors, and moved behind my chair. “Why is Chance back in town?”
Ah, now we’ve gotten to the real point of this conversation.
“He’s hoping to find some music Eli was working on before the accident.”
She arched a brow. “Your music, you mean? Doesn’t he know about the lawsuit?”
“Macy says the record company would have told him, but I don’t think they did.” Feeling defensive, I folded my arms.
“Aren’t you worried he’s going to find your songs? You never could say no to those boys. You’ll end up in the same
position as you were with Eli.”
My inability to say no to those boys had caused me more than my fair share of trouble, but I’d changed. I’d learned my
lesson, grown up, and grown a spine. That she couldn’t see that, or had doubted me, stung. “I’m through letting anyone take
what’s mine. Macy helped me file copyrights for every song I wrote, including the ones Eli stole.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She patted my shoulder.
“And I didn’t mean to snap at you.” I smiled to lighten the mood. “For the record, Eli wrote a lot of songs. Only, they
weren’t as good as mine.”
 “Of course they weren’t.” Delta grinned, but it faded as quickly as it’d come. “You have to tell Chance about the music and
the lawsuit.”
Shaking my head, I said, “Macy warned me against it. She’s worried anything I say to him might be twisted and used
against me in court.”
She pointed in the general direction of the carriage house. “That boy has loved you since before his voice changed. He’s
not about to speak against you to a judge. Talk to him.”
I dipped my chin to hide my confusion. Delta was wise, but she wasn’t an attorney. I had to trust Macy in this. If dealing
with Mavis had taught me anything, it was that blood and money made people do things they wouldn’t normally do.
“Be still.” She waited for me to sit up straight before whacking several inches off the bottom of my hair.
“Not so short.” Horrified, I stared at the blonde strands littering the floor.
“You haven’t cut it since the funeral. It’s time to let go of the past and start over with a new look, Truly Beth.” Delta lifted
the length and snipped even more off. She might have been talking about my hair, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know
she’d referred to something, or someone, else entirely.
“I can’t believe he’s going to be staying in the apartment. I can hear the rumors now.” An image of my father’s scowling
face popped into my head. “Daddy’s going to have a fit.”
“Who cares what people think?” She met my gaze in the mirror and pointed the scissors at me. “As for my son, he lost the
right to have an opinion the day he turned his back on you. Preacher or not, that man has a lot to atone for…including Flynn.”
The mention of my prodigal brother made my heart ache in a different way. I was proud of him. He’d achieved his dreams
of playing major league baseball. His fame, or more specifically, his lifestyle had caused a falling out between him and our
dad. Flynn hadn’t come home since. I understood his need to put distance between himself and our father, but he’d left me too.
“Dad and I have been working on our relationship.” I needed to walk or pace the room. I did my best thinking when I was
moving around. “I really let him down.”
She spun me to face her. “You listen to me. Parents are supposed to love their children unconditionally. Getting pregnant out
of wedlock isn’t the end of the damned world. You aren’t the problem. He is.”
We’d had this conversation a million times too. I understood what she was saying. I couldn’t imagine treating my daughters
the way my father had treated me, but I wasn’t the one who had to stand at that pulpit every Sunday.
“You’re right.” I motioned to my half-scalped head. “Now, please finish up before I have to walk around town with a
lopsided hairdo.”
Delta got back to work. “What do you think about Chance being here? I thought you were going to pass out when he walked
in.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think because he’s just passing through.” I closed my eyes.
“Look at me when you say that.” She nudged my shoulder.
“I can’t. You’re cutting my hair so short. I can’t bear to watch.”
“It’s time you stopped hiding behind all this.” She squirted the sides of my head with water and continued to snip away at
my formerly waist-length curls.
Once again, I had the distinct impression Delta wasn’t talking about my hair. “I’m not hiding.”
“You are, and don’t change the subject.” She tsked. “You always did have a thing for him.”
“Now that you mention it, I guess I do have a type.” I smirked. “Handsome and uninterested.”
“Open your eyes, girl.” She patted my shoulder.
“Grandma, I know you mean well, but trust me when I tell you, Chance has no intentions of sticking around. He’ll leave as
soon as he gets what he came for.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Delta chuckled. “But you need to open your eyes and tell me what you think of your hair.”
I glanced at my reflection and gasped. “Oh.”
The shorter length made my curls spring back to life, and the new layers framing my face made my eyes seem bigger. She’d
taken more than hair off. She’d taken years. For the first time since becoming a mother, I looked like myself. Like a woman
with hopes, and dreams, and the confidence to make them come true.
“I still need to blow it dry, but the layers make you look younger.” She scrubbed my roots to add volume.
“It’s…” Speechless, I turned my head from side to side.
“You hate it?” Her voice went up two octaves. “Oh, Truly, I’m sorry. I should have asked first. You always used to wear it
like this…I thought⁠—”
“No. I love it.” I couldn’t stop smiling.
Hazel walked in and wolf-whistled. “Woo-wee. Chance Alden isn’t gonna know what hit him when he gets a look at you.”
Agnes, who’d come in behind Hazel, groaned. “Can we please talk about anything but that George Strait wannabe?”
I didn’t know how long he would stay, or if he’d like my hair, but one thing was for certain—Swans Harbor wouldn’t be
boring as long as Chance Alden was in town.
Chapter Six
 Chance

AFTER CHECKING IN WITH THE MECHANIC— WHILE THE LADIES CHECKED ME OUT —I WALKED DOWN MAIN S TREET . I WASN ’ T
kidding when I’d told Truly I barely recognized the place. The town green had been totally redone, complete with a white
gazebo and public benches. The four-way stop had been converted to a roundabout, with some sort of statue in the middle. I
couldn’t make out the details from behind, but it looked like a woman with her foot on a rock.
I passed by several trendy businesses, including a pet salon, a tearoom, and a place that sold handmade soap. When I’d left
home, the only stores that weren’t boarded up were Macon’s Hardware and Jessie’s Little Shop of Flowers. Oddly enough,
they were both still open.
The pink tulips on the bright green florist’s sign gave me an idea. While I doubted Truly would accept anything I gave her,
she wasn’t the only woman in the house. I headed for the flower shop and peeked in the window.
It wasn’t Ms. Jessie that waved at me from inside, it was her daughter, Kelsey-Lynn Blackwelder. She’d graduated high
school a year behind me, but that hadn’t stopped her from making my life hell—and terrorizing Truly since they were little.
Damn it.
I would have rather gone ten rounds with Agnes than deal with the former cheerleader, prom queen, and all-around mean
girl.
The blonde hustled toward the door. “Chance Alden. I heard you were in town and here you are.”
“Here I am.” With Toby Keith’s “How Do You Like Me Now” playing in my head, I side-stepped her hug or tried to.
She threw her arms around me, pressed her too-firm-to-be-real breasts against my chest—and wiggled. I must have
groaned, or made some kind of sound, because she gasped and pulled back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I heard you had a
nasty run in with yellow jackets this morning. Where’d they get ya?”
The new mayor might have spruced the place up, but some things never changed. News still spread quicker than butter on
hot bread.
“Mostly on my legs.” I ran a hand over the back of my neck.
“Did you put wet tobacco paste on the stings? I have some in the back.” Kelsey-Lynn stared at my lower half for so long, I
worried she’d offer to help me out of my pants, or worse, to suck the venom out.
“I’m good. Thanks.” I nodded to two vases of fresh daisies. “Could you wrap those up for me?”
She gave me a sly grin. “Are these for anyone in particular? Is Randi in town?”
I winced before I could stop myself. Despite what the gossip rags said, Miranda Bishop was the last person I’d buy
flowers.
Kelsey-Lynn pressed her hand to her ample chest. “Oh my. Did you two break up?”
You couldn’t break up with someone you’d never dated, but I couldn’t tell her that. Not without opening a two-ton barrel of
worms. “Yeah, a while back.”
“That’s a shame. I always loved the idea of you two falling in love on the road. It seemed so romantic.” Her face fell for
half a second before her eyes widened. “Does that mean she left the band?”
It struck me as funny that she seemed more upset about Miranda leaving the band than the demise of our fictitious
relationship. “I’d be a fool to let the best bass player this side of the Mason Dixon go. We parted as friends. Now, about the
flowers. I’m thinking the pink one for Paisley and the blue for Skylar.”
“Those poor girls. I can’t imagine growin’ up without a daddy. Truly had better keep an eye on them or they’ll both end up
pregnant…” Like their mother did, hung in the air unsaid.
That old saying about people and glass houses was about to bite Little Miss Kelsey-Lynn in the ass.
“I ran into Jeremy in Nashville a couple years ago. He said you two had kids.” I smiled. “I was surprised you never got
married.”
Her mouth fell open and her cheeks pinkened beneath the thick layer of blush. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that about
the girls. Truly’s a good mother.”
I stared, waiting for the but.
 “I’ve been working on myself. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I was a bitch in high school.”
I nodded because she was right. About being a bitch anyway, but not just in high school.
Kelsey-Lynn set the small arrangements on the counter. “Anything else?”
“Might as well make all four of my new landlords happy. How about a dozen yellow roses for Ms. Delta, and those
African violets for Truly. She’s never been a fan of fresh cut flowers.” As soon as I said the words, I wanted to reel them back
in. Judging by the twinkle in Kelsey-Lynn’s eyes, the whole town would know where I was staying and that I’d remembered
Truly’s floral preferences.
“I’ll have those delivered to Delta’s this afternoon.” She leaned closer and whispered, “I was sorry to hear about Eli
Vaughn. Poor thing. He must have been in bad shape. His momma couldn’t even have an open casket service.”
My chest tightened to the point I struggled to breathe. I had no idea what the funeral was like. I had been in a medically
induced coma when they’d buried Eli.
She prattled on about all the flower orders that’d come in for the memorial, but weirdly enough, she seemed choked up.
Kelsey-Lynn was still clueless, but evidently, she’d grown a heart.
I needed to change the subject before I either passed out or yelled at a woman. “What’s the deal with the statue in front of
City Hall?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s the first Agnes Swan Abernathy, but the latest one parades around town like it was raised in her
honor.”
That made me smile. I could picture the cantankerous old woman posting guard in the roundabout to make sure no one ran
over the memorial to her namesake.
“It’s an eye sore if you ask me. Why not put up a statue of Colonel Swan instead of his widow?” Shaking her head, she ran
my card through an old-fashioned slider. “And to have her standing there with her foot on a tombstone? It’s just plain tacky.”
If memory served, the first Agnes Swan-Abernathy had lost her husband six days after he’d founded the town. She’d gone
on to marry and bury seven additional husbands before she’d died.
“That nut-ball new mayor has a petition to rename the town Widow’s Cove.” Kelsey-Lynn looked as if she’d sucked on a
lemon. “Can you imagine the town slogan? Home of wailing women and rotting husbands.”
“Can’t see that on the Chamber of Commerce website.”
“‘America’s Town’ is bad enough.” Kelsey-Lynn snorted out a laugh. “You missed Hat-Gate. The mayor had ball caps
made that said, Swans Harbor America’s Town. Problem was when you stacked up the words, it spelled SHAT.”
“I bet that went over well with the Baptists.” Chuckling, I glanced out the window at the statue.
She handed me a carbon-copy of my receipt. “Rumor has it, anyone who leaves a gift for the Widow Abernathy will have a
long, happy marriage.”
I resisted the urge to clean out my ears. Surely, I’d heard her wrong. “People leave things at the statue of a woman who
buried seven husbands? Let me guess—this is part of the new mayor’s plan to revitalize Swans Harbor.”
“Nope. My grandmother told me the legend of Widow Swan when I was a little girl. People used to leave offerings on her
grave. That ugly-ass statue saves us a trip to the cemetery.” She pulled a red rose from the cooler behind the counter. “Drop
this off on the way to the diner, and maybe you’ll find the love of your life while you’re in town…or maybe you and Randi will
make up.”
I stared at the long stem rose longer than I should have. There was only one woman for me and it’d take a lot more than
some old legend for Truly Callaway and me to make amends. “No thanks. I’m married to my music.”
With that, I winked and walked outside.
Call it morbid curiosity, or good old-fashioned stupidity, but I crossed the town green at an angle to get a better look at the
statue. Sure enough, Widow Swan was posed with her foot on a short tombstone. She had one hand in the air and the other on
her hip, like some sort of conquering hero. What was more disturbing were the various flowers and trinkets sprinkled among
the pink rose bushes at the base of the statue.
It struck me as funny that people believed in such nonsense. Still, Kelsey-Lynn said folks had been leaving gifts for Agnes
Swan-Abernathy for generations. Was it all in their minds, or was there something to it?
What could it hurt? Lord knows it’d take a miracle for Truly and me to get our happily ever after.
I pulled out the contents of my front pocket and tossed two quarters, three pennies, and a guitar pick into the roses. “Mrs.
Swan, if you’re listening. I could use your help.”
Chapter Seven
 Chance

TWO THINGS HIT ME WHEN I WALKED INTO KISS MY GRITS DINER. THE SMELL OF DEEP - FRIED FOOD AND SILENCE. EVEN THE
jukebox had gone quiet. Heads turned, eyes widened, mommas pulled their children close. As weird as their reactions were,
I’d take that over screaming fans any day, and twice on Sundays.
Graham waved from a red vinyl booth in the back.
Like a scene from an old Western, the noise returned about the time I took my second step onto the black and white tile
floor.
Thanks to investing early, and heavily, in cryptocurrency, my older brother had more money than God. He could live
anywhere and do anything for the rest of his life, but he’d chosen to quit his tech job in the Silicon Valley and move home. I’d
laughed when he’d told me his dream was always to become a firefighter, but he’d done it. At forty years old, he joined the
Swans Harbor Volunteer Fire Department—and he wore the T-shirt to prove it.
Graham puffed his chest out as if to show off the department logo. “Do they not have watches in Nashville? You’re late.”
He’d lost his sense of humor, and his Southern accent, somewhere between college and becoming a bazillionaire. I still
loved him, even if he did sound like a west coast douchebag.
I took in his new look. Since I’d seen him last, he’d gotten a buzzcut, a few more tattoos, and a few more wrinkles. “Sorry.
I must have lost it while in rehab.”
He winced. “How’s the leg?”
“On a scale of one to ten. Negative two.” I snatched a menu from the condiment holder and scanned the surprisingly hip
selection. “Since when do they serve Wagyu burgers east of I-95?”
“Don’t be a snob.” Graham sat back and gave me his serious face, which was a lot like his normal face, except his
forehead lines were deeper. “Are you going to tell me why you drove all night to a place you swore you’d never return to?”
“Is there a law against visiting my favorite brother?”
A server with bright pink hair set a glass of water in front of me, and a chocolate milkshake in front of Graham. “Sorry that
took so long. I got a call from Henry’s daycare. He’s in trouble again.”
Graham sat back, folded his arms, and pasted on his father-knows-best expression. “What’d he do this time?”
“Smuggled that dang chicken of his to class in his backpack.” Shaking her head, she bit back a smile. “It got loose and
pecked some of the kids.”
“I’ll have a talk with him.” Chuckling, my brother stared at the server like a lovesick puppy. Weird considering he’d only
ever looked at one woman that way, and that had been in high school.
I glanced between them, waiting for an introduction, or better yet, an explanation.
“Thanks, you’re the best.” She pulled her pad from her apron and finally made eye contact with me. When she did, her
mouth fell open. “You’re Chance Alden.”
I lowered my voice. “Yes, and you are?”
Her cheeks turned the same color as her wild hair. “I’m Willa…but you…you’re the Chance Alden.”
“I am, and on the off chance no one else has noticed, would you mind keeping that little fact between us?”
“Show off,” Graham muttered under his breath.
Willa nodded so fast, I worried she’d pull a neck muscle. “Sure. Yes. Definitely… Um…” She giggled. “I forgot what I
was about to say.”
Graham leaned forward to get her attention. “Don’t let my knucklehead brother make you nervous.”
“I’ll try.” She continued to gawk at me.
I arched a brow at my rude sibling. “How do you two know each other?”
“Willa is my next-door neighbor, or she will be once my house is finished.” He snapped his menu closed. “We’ll have two
burgers, all the way, fries, and he’ll have a strawberry shake.”
It’d been a long time since anyone had ordered for me. I didn’t like it. “Make that a patty-melt no onions, and I’ll stick to
water. Thank you.”
 She continued to stare without writing anything down. “You sure you don’t want to try the chicken fried steak? It’s named
after you.”
“Really?” I reached for the menu, but stopped when Graham narrowed his eyes. “Sure, why not? I can’t believe they named
a dish after me.”
“It should have been the shrimp and string beans,” he deadpanned.
Willa laughed. “I’ll put your orders in right away.”
I waited until she wandered off before I said, “You’re into her.”
“Unlike you, I’m mature enough to be friends with a woman without wanting to bone her.”
I stared, waiting for him to cut the crap.
“She’s starting over. Single mom. Abusive ex. Not interested in dating anyone.” He hitched a shoulder. “And she’s Agnes
Abernathy’s granddaughter.”
“No kidding?” I glanced at the pink haired woman and searched for any sign of a family resemblance. Finding none, I said,
“So? Be discreet and the town gossips won’t have anything to talk about.”
“She’s not my type.” His voice held a tone of finality. In other words, he’d used his my-word-is-law, big brother voice. It
hadn’t worked on me when I was a kid, it wasn’t going to work now.
“Because she’s not a certain tall, blonde actress?” I couldn’t help but tease him about his first, and from what I knew, only
love.
“Screw you.” He planted his elbows on the table. “Avaleigh isn’t the Callaway I want to discuss.”
Ava Callaway was another Swans Harbor escapee. She’d left town the day she turned eighteen, skipping her high school
graduation to do it. She was kind of a legend, the local girl who’d run away to Hollywood and become a movie star.
I’d been young at the time, but I remembered Graham had been devastated. Judging by his even sourer than normal
expression, he still hadn’t gotten over her.
He shook his head as if to clear away the memories. “Please tell me you didn’t come back for Truly.”
That he’d jumped to that conclusion didn’t surprise me. Graham, more than anyone else, knew how much I’d loved Truly
when I was a kid. Not to mention, he’d been the one who’d listened to me cry in my root beer when I’d finally come back for
her, only to find out I was too late. She was with Eli and pregnant with his kids. It’d killed me to leave her again, but had I not,
she likely would have become country music’s version of Yoko Ono.
Much like he’d done, I shook my head. Only, it’d never been that simple for me to erase Truly from my mind. “This isn’t
about me rekindling ancient feelings. I need the songs Eli was working on before the accident.”
“You sure that’s all there is to it?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Big brother or not, I didn’t appreciate the grilling. Okay, so maybe he was right. Maybe I still played the
What-If game where Truly was concerned, but that’s all it was, a stupid game. “I’m not interested in my dead best friend’s
baby-momma.”
He stared as if waiting for me to realize how stupid that’d sounded. I knew, but I’d be damned if I’d admit it.
“There’s too much history there.” I added to appease him.
“Good.” Graham nodded. “Truly’s happy. She’s finally moved on. She doesn’t need⁠—”
“She didn’t look like she’d moved on. Nor did she look happy. And how do you know what she needs?” I hadn’t meant to
snap at him, but as far as I knew, Graham and Truly weren’t close. Sure, we’d all grown up in the same Podunk town, but she
was twelve when he’d left for college.
“Cool your jets.” He barked out a humorless laugh. “I knew you still had feelings for her, but now you know it too.”
“You’re an ass.” I downed half my water.
“And you’re full of shit. I saw you making a donation to the statue out there.”
Caught red-handed, I had nothing to say to that, so I changed the subject. “You and Truly are best buds now?”
Graham sipped his shake. “She’s friends with Willa. I hear things.”
“What kinds of things?” I remembered Truly saying something about a court case and shifted gears before he could reply.
“Is she having problems with Eli’s estate?”
The lines between his brows deepened. “You could say that. They never established legal paternity of the girls. With Eli
gone now, Truly’s got her work cut out for her. Why do you ask?”
“Something she said.” It was more like something she’d done. I’d never seen her act so squirrely. However, it made sense
she’d worry about me removing Eli’s things from the studio. Truly was as sentimental as they came.
“When did you see her?” he asked.
“Before I came here.”
“Why did you see her?
“I told you. I’m in town to find the music Eli was working on.” I drew a deep breath and dropped a bomb. “I’m not going to
the farm yet. I rented the apartment over Delta’s carriage house.”
“What are you going to do if she starts asking questions about the accident?”
 Pain shot down the scar that stretched from my right hip to my foot for no freaking reason. The docs said it was part of my
PTSD, but it felt more like penance. “It’s been two years. She’s not going to bring it up.”
Graham sighed so deep it sounded like it’d come from his soul. “Maybe it’s time she knew the truth.”
I couldn’t believe he’d said that. Graham was one of the four people on the face of the Earth who knew what had really
happened that night. Not only where we were going, and what had caused the wreck, but Eli’s last wish. “No. I promised him
I’d take it to my grave.”
Like a warning from the great beyond, one of the few Vaughn-Alden Band songs Eli had sung filled the diner.
My sweet Carolina True. We were just kids when I gave you my heart. Though we’re together, we’re so far apart.
Missing my girls, Paisley Rose and Skylar Blue. Baby please, never forget I love you. Truly, madly deeply. It’s always been
you.
I don’t know what Graham saw in my expression, but his face softened. “I’ve always wondered which one of you wrote the
lyrics to that song.”
“I did, and Eli wrote the music. Same as every other song.” I’d poured my heart out into those lyrics. It’d killed me when
Eli insisted he be the one to sing it.
“I thought so.” He clamped a meaty hand on my shoulder. “You’ve always been good enough for her, Chance.”
And that, right there, was part of the reason I’d stayed away from home for so long. I couldn’t pretend to be someone, or
something, I wasn’t with the people who knew me best.
Graham shook my shoulder, the way he had when we were kids. “Being home can’t be easy. I’m here for you, bro. Anything
you need.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it…and you.”
What I needed was to save my career, my sanity, and my damned heart by getting the hell out of Swans Harbor.
Chapter Eight
 Truly

“GRAHAM DROPPED CHANCE OFF IN YOUR DRIVEWAY,” HAZEL SAID FROM THE BACK PORCH OF THE SALON . “HE’ S CARTING A
duffle bag and a guitar case into the carriage house.”
“Let me see.” Delta hurried to her side. “Why, that doesn’t look like enough clothes to last a weekend. Where are the rest of
his things?”
“Probably in his car at Silas Green’s shop.” I’d had all I could take of them gossiping about Chance. “Or maybe that’s all
he brought, because he isn’t planning on being here long.”
“What do you think he has in that guitar case?” Hazel asked.
“Oh, I don’t know…a guitar?” I slammed my textbook closed. No way could I study with them carrying on like lovesick
teenagers.
Agnes joined them by the back door. “Could be a machine gun. I saw a program once where the hitman carried his weapon
in a violin case to throw off suspicion.”
Delta chuckled. “Okay, ladies. That’s enough. Let’s simmer down so Truly Beth can study for her accounting exam.”
“Don’t bother.” I stood and marched to the porch. Not to spy on Chance. To get some air. “I’m going to see if Sundae and
the girls want to go swimming.”
When the twins’ pre-school classes ended for the summer, it hadn’t seemed right to keep them with me in the salon. Even if
she was Chance’s baby sister, hiring Sundae Alden to look after them was one of the best decisions I’d ever made.
“Have fun, and don’t forget the sunscreen,” Delta said. “It might be late afternoon, but that sun will still get ya.”
“I’d warn you to look out for snakes, but you’d probably invite them to rent a room with the other one.” Agnes huffed and
shuffled back into the salon. “Something ain’t right with that boy. I can feel it in my bones.”
“Then you need to make an appointment with your doctor.” Hazel pursed her lips. “My Beau owns a duffle bag and a guitar,
and he isn’t a hitman. He’s a⁠—”
“Neurologist.” Agnes groaned. “We know. We’ve heard all about that grandson of yours.”
Hazel’s shoulders fell. “It isn’t a sin to be proud of your grand-babies.”
Agnes, in a rare show of contrition, slung her arm around Hazel’s shoulders. “Don’t listen to me. My bunions are acting up
something fierce. Beau’s a good man, and he’s going to make a terrific daddy come September.”
Delta nodded her agreement. “Are you planning to go to Atlanta when the baby comes?”
“If I’m not in the way…”
With the ladies sufficiently distracted, I slipped out the back door and headed home. Despite the heat, summer was my
favorite time of year. Be it the beach, a creek, or a swimming pool, I loved the water. And so did my twins.
I’d almost made it to the house when Scarlett Blackwelder walked around the corner with her arms full of flowers. “My
goodness. Let me help you with those.”
“That’d be great.” The teen peeked around an enormous bouquet of yellow roses. “If you could take the daisies, I can
handle the rest.”
I lifted the two smaller arrangements from the shallow box. The names on the cards made me smile. It wasn’t every day my
girls received flowers.
“They’re all from Chance Alden.” Her eyes went a little wide as he spoke. “The Chance Alden.”
“How nice.” I tempered my reaction. The last thing I needed was a bunch of starstruck kids stalking the carriage house.
“Let’s put these inside.”
Going on and on about how much she loved the Vaughn-Alden Band, Scarlett followed me into the kitchen.
I set the vases on the counter and pulled a five-dollar bill from the coffee can in the cupboard where Delta kept her pizza
money. “Here’s a little something for you.”
“Thanks.” She glanced around as if hoping to find some sign of Chance. “I uh…should go, but if you see Chance…I mean
Mr. Alden, would you…” The tips of her ears turned red.
“I’ll get an autograph for you. If I see him.” Smiling like a lunatic, I ushered her out the front door.
 Back inside, I ran my finger over the card with my name on it. It wasn’t signed, but I had no doubt who’d sent me African
violets, my daughters daisies, and Delta an obnoxious bouquet of roses. Chance had picked out the perfect flowers for each of
us.
Out back, sounds I hadn’t heard in years drifted through the leaves, across the koi pond, and straight into my heart. The
slow strumming of an acoustic guitar and Chance Alden’s whiskey smooth voice coming out of the carriage house took me back
in time.
In that moment, I was sixteen again. Standing in the yard, both excited and afraid to go inside. Afraid to interrupt. Excited
because no matter how much time Chance and I spent together, I could never get enough of him. He was my distraction, my
drug, my life, and my future all rolled up into one amazing person. My person.
A second sound surprised me. My girls’ voices, high and offkey, joined Chance’s in the first verse of “Taking the Backroads
Home,” the band’s first number one hit.
Just an old worn-out truck, a tank full of gas, She's got that sundress on, bare feet on the dash. Looked over at her
smilin', hair blowin’ in the wind, Thought to myself, I’m not ready for tonight to end.
As sweet as it was that they were singing together, this song wasn’t appropriate for five-year-olds. I had to put a stop to it
before they reached the second verse.
So I took the backroads home, where the wildflowers grow, Underneath the starlit sky, where the cool rivers flow. Ain’t
no need to rush now, don’t need to be right, Just need this endless dirt road and her by my side.
Radio playin' softly, singin' our favorite song, I feel her hand on my thigh, and I try to be strong. Prying eyes behind us,
moon guiding the way, She looks over at me and says⁠—
I rushed into the studio in the nick of time, or so I thought. Chance stopped singing, but my sweet little girls continued to
belt out the lyrics of a song about mine and Chance’s first time.
“I wanna go all the way.”
“Okay. Who’s ready to go swimming?” My voice came out just shy of hysterical.
“Me.” The twins shouted in unison and leapt from the couch.
I shot Chance a what-the-heck look before turning back to the girls. “Where’s Sundae?”
“She went home,” Skylar said.
He cleared his throat. “She had a teleconference with human resources at her new job. I told her I’d keep an eye on these
two troublemakers until you were finished at the salon.”
“She should have brought them to me.” It wasn’t like Sundae had left the twins with a stranger. Chance was her brother, for
crying out loud. Still, I didn’t like it.
“She was planning to until the girls saw me carrying my guitar inside and asked if we could have a singalong.” Chance
studied my expression for a heartbeat and sighed. “I should have had them get your permission first.”
Shaking my head, I forced a smile. “It’s okay. Just ask in the future.”
“What happened to your hair?” Sky wrinkled her nose.
“Grandma cut it.” Self-conscious, I pulled my hair over my shoulder. It barely reached the top of my bra.
Lord in Heaven, it’s so short.
“It’s pretty, Momma.” Paisley mimicked me and pulled her long, blonde braid over her shoulder.
“She’s right.” Chance gave me a once over. “You’re stunning.”
“Thanks. Both of you.” I nodded to the door. “Girls, go get your swimsuits on, and be sure to look in the kitchen. Chance
sent you each a vase of daisies.”
“Woo-hoo. Swimming and flowers. It’s my favorite day ever.” Skylar did a little dance and darted for the door.
Looking at Chance like he’d painted the sunset, Paisley said, “Daisies are my favorite. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” He blushed almost as deeply as Scarlett had.
“Will you sing with us again?”
“I’d love to.” He glanced at me. “If your mom says it’s okay.”
“Can he, Momma?” She gave me the saddest expression, as if it’d break her little heart if I refused.
If Sky had given me that puppy-dog pout, I’d think I was being conned. But this was Paisley. She was the shy one. It wasn’t
like her to take to someone so fast. Then again, Chance was a hard man to resist.
I nodded. “Sure, but only with permission. Chance needs alone time to get his work done.”
Her expression brightened. “Can he go swimming with us?”
“If he’s not too tired. He’s had a long day.” I looked at him, really looked, for the first time since I’d interrupted their jam
session. He had dark circles under his eyes, and he sat sideways as if to keep his weight off his right leg.
“Do you want to come?” Paisley chewed her bottom lip.
My mom-radar went off like a tornado siren. She was getting too attached too fast, and Chance wasn’t here for the long
haul. Mine wasn’t the only heart he stood to break when he left.
He set the guitar aside and stood as slow as an eighty-year-old man getting up from his wheelchair. “I wish I could, but I
didn’t pack a swimsuit.”
“Buy one so you can come with us next time.” She gave him a quick hug before rushing out of the studio.
“Before you say it, they picked the song.” He winced when he put weight on his bad leg.
“Are you okay? You don’t look so good.” I pressed the back of my hand to his forehead.
Chuckling, he eased my hand from his face. “I don’t have a fever, Tru. My leg is sore from walking all over hell and half of
Georgia today.”
“I never understood that expression. What does Georgia have to do with it?” I added a little extra twang to my voice.
“Heck if I know.” Still holding my hand, he pulled me a little closer. “How was your afternoon?”
Standing a mere inch apart, I could hardly breathe, let alone think of a clever reply. “Good. Need help getting upstairs?”
A devilish grin spread across his lips. “That song always did turn you on.”
“It wasn’t a proposition.” I slapped his chest. “I’m worried about you and trying to help.”
“I’m fine as frog hair, and I’ll prove it.” Chance pulled me against him, rested his free hand on the small of my back, and
hummed the melody to the song.
I started to pull away. “The girls⁠—”
“We’ll hear them coming.” He swayed to the music as he sang, “Her dress is on the floor, we’re off the beaten path,
steaming up the windows, trying to make it last. Nothing between us but moonlight, she’s glowing so bright. Think to
myself, boy, I could do this all night.”
I’d forgotten how wonderful it felt to be in his arms. He wasn’t the same lanky boy he was the last time we’d danced, nor
was I the same skinny girl, but somehow, we still fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.
“So we took the backroads home, where the fireflies glow. Got her hand in mine, and the radio low. Ain't nothing like
her laughter echoing in the night, hair blowin’ in the wind.” Chance brushed his lips across the shell of my ear. “Thought to
myself, I’m not ready for tonight to end.”
I pulled back to meet his deep brown gaze. So close, only inches apart, it would have been so easy to kiss him. Hell, I
wanted to kiss him, but I remembered the way Paisley had looked at him when she’d asked if he’d sing with her again. I was
certain I wore the same expression.
He furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong?”
“I should go. The girls are waiting for me. Thanks for the African violets. I love them.”
“I remember.” Chance raised his hand as if to brush the hair from my face but stopped when his phone rang. He pulled the
cell from his back pocket, glanced at the screen, and frowned at Miranda Bishop’s name. “I should take this.”
According to the tabloids, Chance and Randi had been planning to elope the night of the accident. Eli was to be the best
man, but they’d never made it to Las Vegas.
“You’re still together?” The question fell from my lips before I could stop it.
“No.” He held up a finger to silence me before answering the call. “Hey, Randi. This isn’t a good time.”
Her voice came through the line. “When is a good time? You up and leave without a word. What am I supposed to tell
people when they ask where my fiancé is?”
Chance pulled the phone from his ear and fumbled with the volume, but it was too late. I’d heard every word.
“I should go.” I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm with his free hand.
Without a word to the woman on the other end of the call, he disconnected and tossed the phone aside. “Randi and I aren’t
together.”
“It sure sounded that way to me.” That I’d gotten the words out without shouting, or my voice cracking, surprised me.
He released my arm and ran his hand over the back of his neck. “It’s… It was over before it started with us.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I had the feeling he was lying, or at very least, sugarcoating the situation for my benefit.
Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I had to be strong. It would upset the twins to see me crying. “You know
what? Never mind. It’s none of my business.”
“No. I guess it isn’t, but I thought you’d want to know.” His phone rang again.
“You should get that.” I nodded to the phone before heading for the door.
Whatever that was with Chance, was a mistake. I’d let myself stumble too far down the pretty side of Memory Lane. I
needed to remember the other side, the part with crumbling hopes, lost dreams, and broken hearts.
I couldn’t handle loving and losing Chance Alden again. I wouldn’t survive it. The best thing for me, and my girls, was to
keep him firmly in the old friend zone. Better yet, I’d treat him like a business associate. After all, we’d be on opposite sides
of a courtroom soon enough.
Chapter Nine
 Chance

I DOWNED A THIRTY- SIX - OUNCE WATER BOTTLE IN ONE LONG PULL. I’ D FORGOTTEN HOW HOT EASTERN NORTH CAROLINA
summers could get. It was so muggy, condensation made the windows look like frosted glass.
I drew a breath, but even that was hard. It felt like sucking air through a mat of wet dog hair, and it smelled like it too.
Frustrated, and more than a little cranky, I held my hand up to the fancy European air-conditioner mounted on the wall of the
studio. As I’d suspected, the air coming out was as warm as one of Delta’s hair dryers.
Damn it. This is the last thing Truly needs.
I’d done a decent job avoiding her over the last few days, and she’d done the same. The girls had come for jam sessions,
but I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of their mother. To take my mind off the world’s most confusing woman, I searched through Eli’s
files. I’d yet to find any new sheet music—other than stuff Truly had written.
Eli’s songs had to be there, but it’d take another week to go through the filing cabinet, journals, and various pads of staff
paper. And that was if the AC was working.
Of course, the entire process would have gone much quicker if I could read sheet music. I’d tried to learn many times over
the years, but it’d never stuck. I could play anything after hearing it once or twice, but I had some sort of musical dyslexia when
it came to reading the notes on a staff.
Unable to stand the heat, I grabbed my notebook, a stack of sheet music, and a pencil, and sat under an old oak tree. The
breeze blowing off the sound made it cooler outside than in.
I plopped down in a lawn chair and pulled out my phone. In the five days since I’d hung up on her, Randi had called
twenty-two times and had sent twice as many texts. I unlocked the cell and scrolled through her latest messages.
RANDI:
Chance, this is ridiculous. Call me.
I’m sorry I yelled at you the other day, but I need to talk to you. It’s important.
Where the hell are you? John is climbing the walls. He keeps asking if you’re going to sign the new contract.
Are you going to sign it?
Tell me if you’re leaving the band. You owe me that much.
Grow up. This is about more than your grief, temper tantrum, or whatever this is. People are counting on you.

As much as she pissed me off, she was right. I had dozens of people on my payroll. It wasn’t fair to keep them guessing, but
until I found the damned music, I didn’t have the answers they needed. I could, however, ease some fears.
Rather than reaching out to Randi directly, I called our manager.
Preston answered on the first ring. “Chance, my God. Where are you?”
“I’d rather not say.” I cursed myself for not thinking through how much to tell him. I trusted him with my life, but he was one
of the people whose job depended on me getting my shit together. “Do me a favor and let John know I’m planning to sign the
new contract.”
Preston blew out a breath. “Good to know, but I don’t give a damn about John or the label. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine. Needed some time to myself to work on some new music.” I hated to lie to him, even half-lie.
“That’s great. What do you need from me?” He chuckled. “Besides talking the president of the label down from his ledge.”
“The usual. Manage the rumors. Get Merilee Cole and her team to spin my absence. Tell her I’m holed up in a cabin
somewhere finding my muse.”
“Meri’s already on it. I swear that woman could make Atilla the Hun look like a choir boy.” He was right. My public
relations manager was worth every penny of her exorbitant fees.
Besides Graham and Randi, she was the only other person on the planet who knew what had gone down the night Eli died.
In fact, it had been her idea to stage mine and Miranda’s engagement. While I hated pretending—and some of the repercussions
—the ends had justified the means. I’d honored Eli’s dying wish, more so, I’d kept Truly from a world of pain and guilt.
 She’ll never know he betrayed her, or that we were fighting over her when I lost control of the car.
“Chance? You still there?” Preston asked.
“Sorry. Got lost in my head for a minute.”
“Anything else I can do?”
“Yeah. Find a reputable AC repair man willing to travel to the backside of nowhere.” I realized I’d stepped in it the
moment I’d said the words.
“Care to tell me where that is exactly?”
“I’m in my hometown. I’ll email you the address, but this stays between us.”
“Of course.” His tone grew more serious. “It’s good to hear you’re working on new music. The songwriters are good, but
they can’t write a Vaughn-Alden Band song, y’know?”
Boy did I know. “I’ll check in in a few days.”
After I sent Preston Truly’s address and the info about the AC unit, I fired off an email to my parents. I’d sent them on an
all-expenses paid European vacation to celebrate their anniversary, but I knew my folks. They’d be more excited to hear I’d
finally come home than about spending two weeks abroad. To add a little icing on the cake, I promised to join them for dinner
at the farm when they returned.
I set the phone aside and picked up a piece of sheet music. I’d managed to translate four bars of notes to their
corresponding letters, when Truly walked around the side of Delta’s house.
The sight of her made me break out in a new layer of sweat. Worse, it made all my blood rush south.
She was naked. Mostly anyway. The bikini top barely contained her breasts, which had gotten considerably larger since the
last time I’d played with them. And her cut-offs? My God, they put Daisy Duke’s to shame. Those things were so short, they
had to be illegal in at least thirty states.
Get a grip.
One of the twins ran up beside her, held her arms out to the side, and scrunched up her face. “I’m ready. Hit me.”
I squinted, trying to decide which of the girls Truly sprayed with a fine mist. Bug spray? Sunscreen? Who the hell knew. I
couldn’t take my eyes off Truly’s mile-long legs to figure it out.
The second Callaway twin came around the corner in a floral sundress. Paisley. She was girlie, while Sky tended to dress
in shorts and T-shirts. The little girl spotted me and waved.
Truly glanced my way and smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Nope. She’d given me the same smile she gave her clients,
only not as warm. “How’s the search coming?”
Part of me was glad she hadn’t grabbed a shirt and covered up. I considered it a small win that she wasn’t self-conscious
of her body around me. However, another part of me wished she’d put some clothes on. It’d be mighty hard to have a
conversation with her without staring at her chest.
“No luck yet.” I debated telling her about the AC, but I didn’t want to ruin whatever fun she had planned.
“Your turn, Paisley.” She motioned the girl closer. “Take the dress off so I can get your back and belly.”
Paisley glanced between me and her mother. “I don’t want to go swimming. Can Chance watch me?”
Before Truly could answer, Sky chimed in. “Momma, if she stays home, can we go kayaking?”
“I changed my mind,” Paisley said. “I wanna go kayaking too.”
As if this was my fault, Truly shot me a dirty look before speaking to the girls. “Chance is working, which means you’re
both coming with me to the creek.”
The girls deflated like someone had let their air out.
Skylar kicked the porch post. “It’s not fair. We never get to go kayaking.”
“That’s because there are two of you, and one of me.” Shaking her head, Truly slung her beach bag over her shoulder.
“Now, are you two coming, or are we going inside to take a nap?”
Paisley flashed me a grin that told me she was about to drag me into the fray. “Chance can come. Then we have two adults
and two kids.”
“Yeah.” Sky perked up. “I call his kayak.”
“No way. It was my idea. I get first dibs,” Paisley shouted.
I had no clue how Truly did this alone day in and day out. Sure, she had Delta and her posse, but the heavy lifting with the
girls fell on Truly’s shoulders. And after seeing the kind of mother she was, I doubted she’d have it any other way.
Tru turned her face up to the sky as if praying for answers, or maybe patience. After a second or two, she looked at me and
forced a smile. “Chance, would you like to come kayaking with us?”
“That sounds like fun.” And to my amazement, it did.
I’d done my best to avoid kids. Not that I had anything against them—they were fine for other people. I’d steered clear out
of fear I’d turn out like my biological father. He’d done a number on me before he’d left me and my addict mother high and dry.
While I trusted myself not to be an abusive asshole, my career made it impossible to stay in one place for long. I never wanted
to make a kid feel abandoned or unloved.
Which is exactly what will happen to the twins when I leave town.
The thought slammed into me like a Mack truck.
Another random document with
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The Project Gutenberg eBook of Lord Lister
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Title: Lord Lister No. 0025: De bankdirecteur

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Kurt Matull

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DE BANKDIRECTEUR.
EERSTE HOOFDSTUK.
 EEN OUDE KENNIS.

Op een avond in Februari zat John Raffles met zijn vriend Charly
Brand in een der loges van het Garrick-Theater in Londen om de
voorstelling bij te wonen.

De groote onbekende was pas sinds een paar dagen weer in

Engeland terug. Hij had de maand Januari en de eerste helft van
Februari met zijn secretaris in Parijs doorgebracht en ook daar zijn
gewone sport uitgeoefend.

„Het begint vervelend te worden,” sprak hij tot zijn vriend, „de
theaterstukken worden van jaar tot jaar slechter, hoewel de acteurs
beter zijn dan vroeger en met mijn sport gaat het evenzoo.

„De menschen hebben steeds minder geld, maar niettegenstaande

dat zijn de inbrekers meer geoefend dan vroeger.

„Ik koester sinds eenigen tijd het plan om Londen vaarwel te zeggen
en naar Berlijn te verhuizen; ik heb namelijk vernomen, dat de politie
daar veel slimmer moet zijn dan de onze hier in Londen. Ik zou het
prettig vinden om mij met die lieden te meten.”

Charly Brand glimlachte en sprak:

„Je prijst een Berlijnsche instelling ten koste van je eigen vaderland
en toch geloof ik, dat zich op het gebied van strafzaken de politie
nergens ter wereld zoo belachelijk heeft gemaakt als juist die. Ik denk
hierbij aan een bijzonder geval.”

„Aan welk?” vroeg Raffles.

„Aan de geschiedenis van den hoofdman van Köpenick.”

„Je vergist je,” antwoordde John Raffles, „het verwijt, dat jij de politie
maakt, is niet op zijn plaats. Want nergens ter wereld heeft men het
nog zoover gebracht, dat men een misdaad, waarvan men niet het
flauwste vermoeden heeft, kan verhinderen. Ik geloof echter, dat in
Duitschland een sportman als ik nog groote dingen tot stand zou
kunnen brengen en heb werkelijk het plan—” hij zweeg plotseling en
fixeerde door zijn monocle een zwaargebouwd heer, die met eenige
opzichtig gekleede dames der demi-monde in een zijloge plaats nam.

Charly Brand volgde de blikken van zijn meester en fluisterde:

„Ken je dien heer?”

„Jawel,” sprak John Raffles zacht, „ik ken dien man helaas maar al te
goed. Hij is een van de menschen, dien ik een stevigen strik om zijn
hals toewensch.”

„Wie is hij?” vroeg Charly Brand. [2]

Op dit oogenblik stond Lord Lister op en verliet de loge. Juist werd

het gordijn opgehaald en het stuk nam een aanvang. Charly volgde
hem op den voet.

Zij gingen in den foyer, namen daar in gemakkelijke stoelen plaats,

bestelden whisky met soda en rookten sigaretten.

„Ik wil niet,” sprak de groote onbekende, „dat die man mij in den
schouwburg ziet, maar ik zal hem hier buiten ontmoeten.”

„Aha,” antwoordde Charly Brand, „dus je kent hem persoonlijk.”

„Ja,” knikte zijn vriend, „aan dien mensch heb ik mijn loopbaan te
danken. Eigenlijk moest ik hem hoogst dankbaar zijn. Door hem ben
ik een meesterdief geworden, waardoor ik een even amusant als
merkwaardig en winstgevend leventje leid.”
„Wat is dat dan voor een man?” vroeg Charly Brand ongeduldig.

„Wel, ik zal je de geschiedenis vertellen,” luidde het antwoord.

Lord Lister blies dikke rookwolken uit en begon:

„Het is ongeveer tien jaar geleden, toen ik, mijn vader leefde nog,
mijn moederlijk erfdeel, bij mijn meerderjarigheidsverklaring,
uitbetaald kreeg. Ik was toen lid van de Hamilton-Club; de andere
medeleden waren allen Afrikanen, d.w.z. lieden, die in Afrika in onze
koloniën geleefd en gestreden hebben.

„Er waren niet alleen oud-soldaten, maar ook kooplieden bij.

„In deze club leerde ik een zekeren Mr. Geis kennen. Hij kwam uit
Pretoria en vertelde, eigenaar te zijn van meerdere goudmijnen en
van een diamantveld.

„Na verscheiden weken raakte ik nader met hem bekend, en hij

noodigde mij uit om in zijn huis in Westend te komen dineeren.

„Het was een vorstelijk, met verfijnde weelde ingericht huis, dat ik
betrad. Toen ik in een gemakkelijken zetel had plaats genomen, wist
ik niet, dat ik als een geheel ander mensch die woning weer zou
verlaten. Ik maakte daar kennis met een jonge dame, die
buitengewoon mooi was en mijn jeugdig hart in vuur en vlam zette. Zij
kwam uit Johannesburg en beweerde, een nicht van Mr. Geis te zijn.
Ik schatte haar op ongeveer achttien jaar.

„Reeds den eersten avond bemerkte ik, dat zij mijn gevoelens
beantwoordde, die ik haar onverholen te kennen gaf. Toen ik laat in
den avond met den heer des huizes een cigarette zat te rooken,
klopte hij mij joviaal lachend op den schouder en sprak:
„„Jonge vriend, gij hebt een goeden indruk gemaakt op mijn nicht,
zooals ik heb gemerkt. Gij zijt de eerste man, die blijkbaar kans heeft,
haar hand en haar vermogen te verwerven.

„„Ik maak er u op attent, dat de jonge dame een wees is en dat ik

haar voogd ben. Ik verzoek u daarom vriendelijk, ingeval gij geen
ernstige bedoelingen hebt, het meisje niet het hoofd op hol te
brengen.”

„Jonge ezel die ik was, voelde ik, hoe ik bij die woorden bloosde. De
verklaring, dat ik indruk op het jonge meisje had gemaakt, maakte mij
verlegen. Ik stamelde een paar onbeduidende woorden, nam
afscheid en ging met een verhit hoofd naar huis. Ik trachtte mijzelf
door koude stortbaden en andere middelen te kalmeeren en besloot
het huis van Mr. Geis en diens gezelschap te mijden. Ik wilde mij op
zoo jeugdigen leeftijd nog niet binden.

„Maar reeds drie dagen later zat ik, dwaas die ik was, met een
prachtigen ruiker orchideeën in het salon van Mr. Geis en wachtte
met kloppend hart op het binnentreden van zijn nicht.

„Volgens het gewone programma verliep toen verder alles. Ik was

zoo blind, dat ik niet zag, hoe de kerel alle deuren van zijn huis voor
mij openzette en hoe hij mij met zijn vriendelijkheid overweldigde.

„Wel vier weken verkeerde ik in de familie, toen ik op zekeren dag

van Mr. Geis de uitnoodiging tot een gewichtig, vertrouwelijk
onderhoud kreeg.

„Onmiddellijk begaf ik mij tot hem, denkende, dat hij een verklaring
van mij eischte betreffende mijn verhouding tot zijn pupil, en ik was
bereid, gevolg te geven aan al zijn wenschen: de jonge dame mijn
Lordstitel, mijn hand en mijn vermogen aan te bieden.

„Maar het pakte anders uit.

„Mr. Geis verklaarde mij, dat hij op het punt was, in Londen een
nieuwe, op groote schaal werkende Bank op te richten en dat hij mij
een eervolle betrekking bij deze onderneming had toegedacht,
namelijk als voornaamsten chef te fungeeren en met mijn naam als
bankdirecteur te teekenen.

„Hij noemde mij een vorstelijk inkomen, dat ik zou krijgen, en

schilderde mij mijn werkzaamheden in zulke verleidelijke kleuren, dat
ik onmiddellijk toehapte en nog dienzelfden middag, waarop onze
conferentie plaats had, teekende bij een notaris het contract.

„En nu begon het bedrog op reusachtige manier.

„Terwijl ik met de mooie nicht in de parken reed of wandelde en

uitstapjes maakte in de omstreken van Londen, maakte Mr. Geis
misbruik van mijn naam en gelukte het hem, dozijnen groote
kapitalisten en duizenden [3]lieden te vinden, die hem vol vertrouwen
hun bezittingen in bewaring gaven.

„Ik, verliefde gek, zag of hoorde niets.

„Mr. Geis had mij meegedeeld, dat ik eerst over een jaar om de hand
van zijn pupil mocht vragen. Wij moesten elkaar eerst voldoende
leeren kennen, voordat wij ons voor het leven verbonden.

„Daar stierf op zekeren dag geheel onverwacht mijn vader. Een

hartverlamming had een einde gemaakt aan zijn leven. Ik had veel
van hem gehouden, maar gevoelde geen oprechte droefheid, omdat
mijn gedachten bij de geliefde verwijlden.

„Ik was blij, toen de noodige formaliteiten achter den rug waren. Het
vermogen, dat mijn vader mij naliet, bedroeg bijna 4,000,000 pond
sterling, dus was ik een zeer goede partij. Gelukkig behoorde ik niet
tot de verarmde Engelsche aristocraten, die, om hun wapen te laten
opfrisschen, de dochters van Amerikaansche varkensslagers of
fabrikanten van geconserveerde vleeschwaren moeten trouwen.”

Raffles zweeg eenige seconden, stak een nieuwe cigarette aan en

keek nadenkend naar de verdwijnende rookwolkjes. Ook Charly
Brand was stil geworden.

„Om kort te gaan, lieve Charly,” vervolgde Raffles, „vier maanden na

den dood van mijn vader trad op zekeren morgen een commissaris
van politie mijn woning binnen en verklaarde mij als gevangene.—Ik
dacht, niet goed verstaan te hebben en vroeg, waarvan men mij
beschuldigde.

„En nu werd mij het volgende medegedeeld door dezen bejaarden

beambte, die met mijn vader bevriend was geweest.

„„Ik geloof graag, Lord Lister, dat gij niets weet van al die knoeierijen.
En daarom laat ik u niet gevangen nemen, maar geef u toestemming,
om in uw woning te blijven, als gij mij uw eerewoord geeft, uwe
vertrekken niet te zullen verlaten. De aanklacht, tegen u ingediend,
luidt: dat gij als directeur der nieuw opgerichte Bank het vernomen
van uw crediteuren, ten bedrage van vijf millioen pond sterling, hebt
verduisterd.”

„„Ik?!” riep ik vol ontzetting uit „Ik?!” In mijn geheele leven heb ik nog
niemand een cent te kort gedaan, ik heb dat trouwens ook niet
noodig, daar ik gefortuneerd ben. Gij weet dit, mijnheer. Ik begrijp uw
aanklacht niet. Mr. Geis, de plaatsvervangende directeur, vertelde mij
nog gisteren, dat hij nog nimmer zulke uitstekende zaken had
gemaakt als met onze Bank.”

„De commissaris glimlachte.

„„Dat geloof ik graag. Deze man heeft werkelijk prachtige zaken

gemaakt. Hij heeft minstens vier millioen sterling verdiend en is
daarmede gisteravond op reis gegaan.”

„Ik had een gevoel, alsof ik door een bliksemstraal was getroffen, ik
meende te droomen, te fantaseeren. Dat kon immers onmogelijk
waar zijn.

„Maar het was bittere waarheid. Met behulp van mijn advocaat
gelukte het mij nog dienzelfden avond, mijn vermogen in handen te
krijgen en met dit kapitaal den schuldeischers hun gedeponeerde
gelden terug te betalen. Binnen een week was alles in orde. Zoodra
de laatste geldstukken uit mijn zak waren verdwenen, sloot ik de
kantoorlokalen en moest blij zijn, dat ik mij, dank zij mijn uitstekende
relaties en mijn goeden naam, zonder onteerende straf uit deze vuile
zaak had kunnen redden.

„Een proces tegen den grooten oplichter, Mr. Geis, was onmogelijk,
daar alle crediteuren het hunne hadden teruggekregen en ook ik kon
niets tegen hem doen, daar ik zijn medeplichtige was.

„Nu ben ik nieuwsgierig, hoe die kerel, dien ik in tien jaar niet heb
gezien, zich tegenover mij zal gedragen. Het zal hem verbazen, mij
hier terug te zien.”

De theaterbel kondigde de groote pauze aan. Dadelijk stroomde het

publiek de foyers binnen.

Midden in het gewoel naderde Mr. Geis met zijn beide dames de
wachtende heeren en Raffles, die met Charly Brand was opgestaan,
zorgde er voor, dat hij plotseling tegenover Mr. Geis stond.

Het dikke, opgezette gelaat van den schurk verbleekte, toen opeens
Lord Lister, bijgenaamd Raffles, voor hem stond.

Onmiddellijk herstelde hij zich echter, en, terwijl hij de twee dames liet
staan, stak hij Raffles beide handen toe en riep, schijnbaar met van
vreugde trillende stem:

„Dat is een vreugde! mijn beste Lord Lister, u eindelijk eens weer
terug te zien!”

Charly Brand was verbaasd, toen Raffles met een even beminnelijk
lachje den man tegemoet snelde, zijn handen hartelijk drukte en
antwoordde:

„Dat is een prettig toeval inderdaad! Ik ben zeer verheugd, u terug te

zien. Gij zijt weinig veranderd in al die jaren.”

„Gij ook niet, mijn lieve vriend,” antwoordde Mr. Geis met zijn vette
stem. „Ik zou u onder duizenden herkend hebben, beminnelijk,
elegant en keurig als altijd. Wat hebt gij in dien tijd gedaan?” [4]

„Daarover later”, antwoordde Raffles, „sinds wanneer zijt gij in

Londen?”

„Sinds twee dagen, beste Lord,” antwoordde Mr. Geis, „ik ben van
plan, mij blijvend hier te vestigen en wel in Brighton. Ik heb veel met u
te bespreken, Lord Lister. Ik heb voortdurend op mijn reis naar
Engeland—ik kom uit Australië—aan u gedacht, met groot verlangen
om eindelijk goed te maken, wat ik indertijd door mislukte speculaties
u heb te kort gedaan.”

Raffles maakte een lichte, afwerende handbeweging en sprak:

„Laat dat rusten, die zaak is lang vergeten. Of ik het geld aan de
speeltafel of ergens anders had verloren, het komt op hetzelfde neer.”

„Neen, neen,” sprak Mr. Geis, „dat is mij niet onverschillig en ik heb
een uitstekend idee, om alles spelenderwijs terug te krijgen. Ik was
tot heden directeur van de Lincoln-Bank, door mij opgericht in Sidney
en, zooals gij wel weet, hebben wij reeds sinds vier jaar een
bijkantoor in Londen.”

Raffles zette een ernstig gezicht. De Lincoln-Bank was in de City als

uiterst solide bekend. Hoe was het mogelijk dat deze man aan die
zaak verbonden was en zich zelfs in zijn eigen vaderland wilde
komen vestigen?

„Ik zal voortaan,” vervolgde Mr. Geis, „de zaken dier Bank in Londen
voeren. De commissie van toezicht schenkt mij, na zesjarigen arbeid,
het vertrouwen, mij tot directeur te benoemen. Bezoek mij morgen in
mijn hotel. Hier is mijn kaartje, ik wacht u tusschen 10–11 uur. Op iets
moet ik u nog opmerkzaam maken,” bij die woorden boog de
bankdirecteur zich naar Raffles toe, „ik noem mij niet meer Geis maar
Stein.”

Raffles keek hem een oogenblik strak aan en antwoordde:

„En ik heet niet meer Lord Lister, maar Raffles.”

Mr. Geis snakte naar lucht, toen hij dien naam hoorde.

Maar nog voordat hij iets kon zeggen, drukte de groote onbekende
met een vriendelijk glimlachje zijn hand en sprak:

„Tot weerziens, Mr. Stein, morgen in uw hotel.”

„Tot weerziens, Mr. Mr. — —”

„Raffles,” vulde Lord Lister aan, „maar het is beter, dat ik voor u en
ieder ander de groote onbekende blijf. Ik ben morgen stellig in uw
hotel.”

Hij nam den arm van Charly Brand en verliet den schouwburg. [5]
[Inhoud]
TWEEDE HOOFDSTUK.
 EEN SCHURKACHTIG VOORSTEL.

Zoodra Raffles afscheid had genomen, verontschuldigde Mr. Geis

zich bij de dames wegens een plotselinge ongesteldheid en, zonder
het eind der voorstelling af te wachten, begaf hij zich naar zijn hotel.

Hij woonde in het Savoye Hotel en had daar een reeks vorstelijk
ingerichte vertrekken in gebruik.

Hier wachtte zijn kamerdienaar McIntosh op hem, een Ier van

geboorte, die hem, toen hij de kamer binnentrad, zijn pels afnam.

McIntosh had een afschuwelijk uiterlijk. Hij kon ongeveer 40 jaar oud
zijn, zijn breed gelaat was ontsierd door de pokken en een groot
litteeken, waarschijnlijk afkomstig van een sabelhouw, liep dwars over
zijn voorhoofd.

Deze man was de vertrouwde van Mr. Geis. Hij had hem in Australië
leeren kennen en hij was minder zijn kamerdienaar dan wel zijn
medeplichtige.

Twintig jaar geleden wegens diefstal en moord uit Engeland naar

Australië verbannen, was hij daar uit de strafkolonie ontvlucht.

Hij zou stellig weer in handen der Engelsche politie zijn gevallen, als
hij niet zijn toevlucht had gevonden in een kleine mijnonderneming,
die beheerd werd door Mr. Geis.

Toen hij de pelsjas had aangenomen, sprak Mr. Geis tot hem:

„Kom in mijn studeerkamer, ik heb belangrijke zaken met je te

bespreken.”
Samen begaven zij zich naar het laatste der rij vertrekken, dat als
studeerkamer was ingericht.

„Ik heb,” zoo begon Mr. Geis, „hedenavond iemand weergezien, een
vroegeren Lord, van wien ik veronderstel, dat hij mij een gloeienden
haat toedraagt wegens iets, dat tien jaar geleden is gebeurd. Die
blijkbaar onbeduidende jonge man is intusschen een gevaarlijk
misdadiger geworden.”

„Dus een collega,” lachte McIntosh. „Wil de kerel jou verraden?”

„Ik ben er bang voor,” antwoordde Mr. Geis, „dat de schurk mij op de
een of andere manier zal benadeelen om zich op mij te wreken. En
dat zou, nu wij zulke groote zaken op touw willen zetten, onze
ondergang zijn.”

„De duivel hale den hond”, sprak McIntosh, zijn groote vuisten
ballende, „waar is hij? Ik zal hem opzoeken en hem zijn hersens
inslaan, opdat hem voor eeuwig de lust vergaat, om je te verraden.”

„Wij moeten zeer voorzichtig met hem zijn,” antwoordde Mr. Geis, „hij
is een der gevaarlijkste en geslepenste menschen, die er bestaan.”

„Je maakt mij nieuwsgierig,” sprak McIntosh, „hoe heet hij?”

„Het is Raffles!”

„Raffles,” herhaalde McIntosh, terwijl zijn oogen bijna uit hun kassen
traden van verbazing, „Raffles? Verduiveld! Hoe komt het, dat je dien
meesterdief kent?”

„Dat is een lange geschiedenis,” antwoordde Mr. Geis op

ontwijkenden toon, „die ik je bij een volgende gelegenheid uitvoerig
zal vertellen. Laat ons nu een plan samenstellen, hoe wij dien kerel