Do not think about kissing Bishop or the reversed nine of wands card you pulled this morning. Think about…

“It will never stop raining,” I said to no one, frowning out the windshield at the constant sheet of water falling from the sky. One of the only things I didn’t miss about living along the Rocky Mountain Front was the rainy season. Sure, it rained in Vegas—rained hard enough to flood the streets sometimes—but not like in Justice. In Vegas, the rain came and went faster than dollar bills in a slot machine. In Justice, the rain clouds rolled in heavy and dark, blocking the top of the mountains as they settled in for days upon days of nothing but cold, wet skies. It often felt as if you’d never see the sun again, that the rain clouds would stay up against that mountain range and the world would simply float away.

Or perhaps my mind wasn’t in the right place to be dealing with so much darkness while preparing for a funeral. I’d pulled some bad cards that morning, including my least favorite—the nine of wands reversed. It indicated hesitancy and being on edge in my life, things I definitely felt. Things I needed to confront and address if I was to move forward, but I couldn’t focus on that. Instead, my mind kept rolling through memories of the night before. Of a kiss that never should have happened and a fight afterward. Of a certain local with strong lips and even stronger hands.

Quit thinking about Bishop.

I drove through Justice, heading back from Rock Falls with a trunk full of grocery bags. I hadn’t been able to do any sort of shopping with Miss sick, the days leading up to her death too stressful to try. But life always moved on, which meant I needed supplies. And distractions.

The old house had been too quiet when I’d woken up that morning. Too dark and empty. There was a lot to do there—clean out the closets and cubbies, rearrange the furniture so I could put it up for sale, prepare to say goodbye and grieve every single aspect of my former life forever—but all that could wait for half a day. I needed a couple of hours out of the house, away from the loneliness and the sadness that had infested it. At least, that’s what I’d told myself when I’d gone running out the front door that morning as if chased by a ghost.

As I turned onto Main Street, I spotted a new sign along the strip of mostly empty buildings. The Baker’s Cottage. Catchy in a homey sort of way, and a complete surprise. A restaurant actually in town? A sign in the window said “Now Open,” and another said “Homemade Soup Daily.” A hot, hearty bowl of soup sounded like the perfect thing to combat the dreariness of the day, and I wasn’t ready to face the afternoon alone in that empty house, so I pulled into a parking spot.

A bell chimed quietly overhead when I walked into The Baker’s Cottage, adding to the quaintness of the warm, ski-lodge style interior. Soft, muted grays made the perfect backdrop for the wood trim around the walls and ceilings, and the rocks stacked to form the bar fit right into the space. Someone knew the area well. The locals should have been flocking there, but the restaurant sat empty instead. Odd, even for a late morning in Justice. And a perfect issue to focus on so I could stop thinking about…other things.

“Hi there.” A pixie-like young woman with her blond hair pulled up in a sleek ponytail appeared from the back. “Welcome to The Baker’s Cottage. Can I get you some coffee?”

I slid onto a stool at the bar and reached for a menu. “No, thanks. I’m more of a tea girl.”

“You and the owner must be kindred souls.” She pulled a wooden box from under the counter. “We’ve got options from some of the best tea blenders around the country. What’s your preference? Black, green, oolong?”

“Green. I usually drink a spearmint tea.”

“Then I know just the one.” She turned to add water to the electric kettle behind her, humming softly to herself. I’d learned early to trust my instincts about people, and that had paid off well for me in Vegas. I might not truly see someone’s future like Miss had been able to, but I could play the part of the seer. I could prod enough to get a reaction, to make the mark show a sign of positive or negative response, and build from there. My skills lay in reading tarot cards, but even that required an understanding of people to get a true and honest read on them.

This girl? Happiness practically radiated off of her, and I found myself wondering if she was newly married or pregnant. Maybe both. I reached into my bag and pulled out my tarot deck, wanting to read her cards. Wanting to know more about her. I shuffled the deck quickly, fingering the edges before flipping one, then two, then three, all while focusing on the blonde across the bar. Me pulling the cards wouldn’t give me an exact read on her, but it’d be a start. Something unobtrusive and quiet I could do to learn more. And if she saw and asked me to give her an actual read? All the better.

The first card came up as the knight of cups, indicating romance and a knight in shining armor in her life. If she didn’t have a partner, and one who protected her at all costs, I’d be surprised. The second showed me the fool—innocence and new beginnings. The third brought a frown to my face—a reversed wheel of fortune card indicating bad luck and external forces against her. That didn’t fit, but I couldn’t tell if the card was meant for her or for me, or if it was just a bad pull.

“Justice is a small town,” the waitress said, smiling politely as she grabbed a tea bag from the box before me. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around. Passing through?”

I slipped the wheel of fortune card back into the deck. She didn’t need to know about that one. Sometimes being a good performer meant hiding the bad things from those around you, especially when they hadn’t asked to know about them.

“Sort of. Lived here for a while back in high school, then headed off to Vegas. My grandmother’s from here, though. Or she was.” I had to find a better explanation when she gave me a confused look. “She just passed. Sorry—I’m not really used to thinking of her as gone yet.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” She cocked her head, looking at me in a new light then glancing down to the cards on the bar in front of me. “Are you Miss Hansen’s granddaughter? The one who tells people their futures?”

“Sure am.” I smiled and offered my hand. “I’m Anabeth Monroe. And you are?”

“No way.” A brunette practically slid through the door to the kitchen, her eyes wide and her smile wider. “Anabeth Monroe. I never thought I’d see that red hair in person again.”

It took me less than three seconds to pull up the memories of that wide smile and those pretty hazel eyes. Katie Baker—she’d been a few years behind me in school, but I remembered her. She’d spent most of her time with the youngest Kennard sibling, a girl named Lainie. Short and rail thin back in those days, Katie had grown into a curvy woman with a welcoming smile and a body that would knock a grown man on his ass. I would have bet she was super popular with the men at the mill.

“Katie.” I stood and hugged the shorter girl. “Is this your place? I didn’t even know you were still in town.”

“I wasn’t, but I am now. Just came back, actually.” She moved behind the bar, joining the blonde. “I moved to Denver for a bit to go to culinary school and try to be a chef in the city, but ended up missing home too much. So I’m here, and I’ve just opened this place. With a little help from the Kennards, of course.”

Of course. Nothing got done in this town without them. “Well, the restaurant looks amazing, and the soup choices sound delicious.”

“Thanks. I’m pretty proud of what we’ve done so far.” Her eyes went wide, her mouth falling open as she reached for me. “I’m also an asshole. Here I am talking about opening a restaurant, and you’re dealing with grief. I heard Miss passed away. I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

That was something I desperately missed about small-town life—the family vibe. The way neighbors looked out for one another. The gossip flew pretty fast, but so did the offers of help when you needed it.

Didn’t mean I could accept it, though. “Thank you, but I’m fine. Everything is handled, and now I just have to wait for the actual funeral.”

“It’s Saturday, right?”

Two days until I had to say goodbye to Miss forever. “Yeah, at Molnar’s in Rock Falls.”

“Well, you can count on me being there.” Katie gave me a supportive sort of smile and covered my hand with hers. “What else can I do? Are you hungry? Of course you are—you’re in a restaurant. What can I get you?”

“I saw your sign in the window and thought a warm bowl of soup sounded like perfection on such a dreary day. I was about to try to pick when you came in.”

Katie slid the menu back in front of me. “Soup is a good choice. Besides what’s on the menu here, I’ve got a steak stew that’s been simmering since four this morning. It’s probably the best stew I make, if you’re up for more of a hearty meal.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“I’ll get it,” the blonde said, moving toward the kitchen. Katie stopped her before she could pass, though.

“Anabeth, have you met Shye yet?”

I smiled and offered my hand again. “I was just introducing myself when you came out. Hi, I’m Anabeth Monroe.”

“Shye Anderson,” she said, shaking my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Shye’s somewhat new in town,” Katie said. “Though she’s already locked down Alder Kennard.”

Locked down…I hadn’t been wrong about her. “Alder’s married? I had no idea.”

Shye rolled her eyes. “We’re not married, though he’d drag me down to the courthouse right this second if I let him.”

She joked, but the blush on her cheeks and the light in her eyes didn’t lie—the woman was in love. In deep.

My smile got a little harder to keep up.

“Well, congratulations. The Kennards are good people, and if these cards are right—and they’re always right”—I pasted on my stage grin and winked her way—“you’ve got a happy future with hope and possibility coming your way. You should definitely let him drag you wherever he wants to take you.”

“All in good time,” Shye said, still grinning, still practically glowing with a happiness she seemed to be trying to rein in. “I’m really sorry to hear about Miss, though. She was always kind to me when I lived up on the ridge.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you got to know her before she passed.”

Katie bumped shoulders with the woman. “All right, Mrs. Kennard. How about you go grab her a bowl of stew before your bodyguard shows up?”

Shye frowned, then disappeared into the back as Katie poured my steeped tea.

“Bodyguard?”

Katie hummed. “You’ll see. So tell me—how’s Vegas?”

I shrugged, ambivalent about my adopted home, ripping the corner of my paper napkin to keep my hands busy so I didn’t reach for my cards again. “Fine. Good. My career is going well, and I’ve got a nice place far enough off the Strip to not have to deal with tourists very often. What more could I ask for?”

More kisses from Bishop.

As if reading my mind, Katie asked, “Got a man out there?”

“No. No man.” To be truthful, I hadn’t had a boyfriend since Bishop. I’d dated. I’d even tried for a commitment at one point, but no dice. Every time someone got too close, I ran. Romance didn’t seem to be in the cards for me no matter what the local gossip hounds liked to think. They stirred up trouble whenever they saw me even talking to another man, which did nothing but irritate me.

Kissing Bishop didn’t irritate you… The memory of the day before, of throwing myself at Bishop and how he’d kissed me, screamed through my mind. It had been a great kiss—intense and soul-shattering—but that was all it could be. A single kiss. I’d told him I wanted nothing from him, and if the silence of my cell phone was any indication, he was following my directive. Which was for the best. Or so I told myself.

Shye returned with the stew and a roll before disappearing into the back again, leaving Katie and me in the otherwise empty dining room. The other woman busied herself behind the bar as I brought a spoonful of stew to my mouth. An explosion of flavors erupted, the warmth pushing aside the constant chill that had settled upon me and that I’d almost gotten used to.

“Oh my god,” I said as soon as I lifted another spoonful up to blow on it. “This is amazing.”

“Thanks. It was my grandma’s recipe, but I changed a few things around. Classic with a twist, you know?” Katie’s grin dropped into a concerned frown as she looked past me. “Now if I could just get about a hundred more customers to be willing to give me a shot, everything would be just peachy.”

“I noticed you were a bit slow. I’d have figured the guys at the mill would be all over a place like this.”

“I’m sure they’ll come around once things settle back down.” She shrugged when I didn’t respond. “They’ve had some trouble with the Soul Suckers lately.”

That was something you didn’t hear every day. “Soul Suckers… The mill’s had problems with demons?”

“No, not demons. The motorcycle gang,” Shye said, appearing from the back just as the bell over the door dinged for a new customer. A man I didn’t recognize—long hair, beard, flat, dark eyes, and enough muscle to be a threat even if he smiled your way. Which he was not. Living in Vegas and doing the job I did—reading the people in a crowd and figuring how to push their buttons—I knew when bad entered a room, and that man was bad.

Tiny Shye simply huffed, looking like a kitten about to use its claws. “My chaperone is here.”

Katie shook her head, watching the bearded one with something like interest. Something she definitely seemed to be trying to hide. “Alder worries about you. We should all be so lucky as to have a man watching out for us.”

“I know. I just wish things didn’t have to be so complicated.” Shye shot me a smile tinged with frustration. “It was nice meeting you, Anabeth.”

“You as well,” I said as I watched the woman walk out with the bear of a man who…hadn’t said a single word.

“So that’s the bodyguard.”

“Yup.” Katie waited until I had a spoonful of stew in my mouth to say, “They burned her trailer.”

I choked and sputtered, grabbing my napkin to cover my mouth as I gasped, “They what?”

“The Soul Suckers Motorcycle Club. They set her trailer on fire and burned it to the ground.”

I couldn’t believe that, but Katie certainly didn’t look as if she were joking. “Really?”

Katie nodded. “You remember Camden and Leah?”

A picture formed in my mind, one of friends from school. A couple I’d spent enough time around to remember well. “Yeah. Are they still together?”

“They were. The Soul Suckers burned his house too. Leah died in the fire.”

My stomach dropped. I remembered them both from high school—they’d hung out a lot at the Kennard house because of Camden’s friendship with the twins. Leah had always been kind and polite, a little quiet but a woman with a huge smile for the people she cared about.

And they’d murdered her.

That had to be what Bishop had meant the day before when he’d said there’d been trouble. He hadn’t wanted me alone and in the woods, not because he was being an overbearing ass, but because there was real danger lurking out there.

I was an idiot. “When did all this happen?”

“Started a few weeks ago. Alder sort of went a little heavy-handed after the fires. He’s had the town on lockdown to keep everyone as safe as he can. I had to fight to stay open, though I’m not sure it’s worth the hours I put in, you know? When the mill guys come in, they come in groups. The rest of the time, nothing.”

“Oh, Katie. I’m sorry. This place is great—I know it’d do well if all this weren’t going on.”

“Me too. And it’s why I moved back—to get a chance to do something in town. I spent my teenage years running away from here every chance I could get because there was nothing, you know? And then I really did run—my mom and I moved to Denver, so I finished school there. But after she died, I wanted to set up shop and serve the community where I’d grown up, just like the Bell family does over at Bell’s Hardware. I wanted to fill an opening in town, but I might not make it if customers don’t show up.” She tossed a towel on the counter, sighing and shaking her head. “If I could maybe get everyone in town here at once—”

“You should have a grand opening party.” The words fell from my lips without thought, but they felt right. Too many years working the Strip and hoping to get my name recognized had left me with a strong intuition about what would attract a crowd. Alder Kennard wanted people in groups to keep them safe? We could give him one big group. “Something fun and super family friendly. Like when the mill used to put on the fall festival. Do they still do that?”

Katie shrugged, though I could see the excitement brimming in her eyes. “I’m not sure. I just moved back this spring, but with the Soul Suckers issue, I don’t know if they will this year.”

“You should push for that, see if the Kennards will allow a fall festival right here at The Baker’s Cottage to give your restaurant a boost. I’ll do what I can to help if I’m still in town.”

She grabbed my hand, her big brown eyes locked on mine. “Would you do a show here? Like, a walking tarot card reading or something? I’ve seen you on YouTube—you’re amazing, and I bet everyone in town would come to see you perform.”

Humility forced me to shrug as if her words didn’t bring me joy. I’d worked hard to get to where I was—had given up everything so I could focus on a career I had never even dreamed possible. I was proud of how far I’d come, even if the thrill of being in front of a crowd had faded over the years.

Even if I’d give it all up in a second to get back what I’d lost.

Which was something I wouldn’t be admitting out loud. “I’d be happy to perform here if you want me to. I only have about a week in town, though.”

“I want, I want—and I can totally work with your schedule. Oh, this will be wonderful!” Katie bounced on the balls of her feet, clapping her hands as she babbled on about themes and plans and what dishes she could make. I sat and finished my stew, basking in the joy she radiated. After so many days of dreariness and pain, it was a nice change.

One that collapsed into a cold, hard ball of regret when the bell over the door dinged again.

Finn Kennard. The man who’d made a decision as a teenager that had sent my life skittering sideways, destroying so much. Taking everything away from me, more than even he knew. My former best friend stood there, looking so much older than the last time I’d seen him. More haggard in some ways. Harder. And damn, did I want to hug him and punch him in the face at the same time.

“I heard you were in town.” He approached me warily, slowly, each step precise. I turned on my stool and did my best to smile. I hadn’t seen him since right after that last day we’d spent in the woods of the east ridge. He’d come to apologize for what had happened, but I’d slammed the door in his face. And then I’d left town.

He’d written me countless letters while he was in prison, all full of apologies and regret. All obviously him trying to work his twelve steps to recovery. I’d torn up each one and flushed the pieces down the drain. Too flooded with guilt and pain and rage to acknowledge them. Until the last one—the letter he’d written when he’d gotten out. The one that said he’d never forgive himself for what he’d done. The one that said he wished he could go back in time so he could relive that day a different way. I wished for the same thing, though for reasons he wasn’t even aware of. Things I’d hidden away after that day. But all the wishing in the world wouldn’t bring back what I’d lost. Time couldn’t be erased, and my decisions had been my own, no matter how much I still wanted to blame someone for the results of them.

I’d written back a simple, handwritten card that said, “I can forgive you for your actions, but I’ll never forgive myself.”

Since I’d promised forgiveness, I figured I’d at least have to try. Starting immediately.

“You’re looking good, young man.”

His grin exploded across his face, making him appear ten years younger. “Not as good as you, hot stuff.”

“Aw, there goes that Kennard charm, working me over again.”

His gait stuttered, and his smile dropped just a little. An icy chill spread through my chest, the pain it brought nearly stealing my breath. That Kennard charm had worked me over before, too. Bishop’s. But it wasn’t the time for thoughts like that, especially with Katie looking on.

“Seriously. How are you, Finn?” He looked clean to me; I certainly hoped he was clean.

“I’m okay,” he said, rolling his eyes when I cocked my head. “Promise. I’m doing fine. How are you handling everything? I’m so damn sorry to hear about Miss.”

Hearing her name, being reminded of my loss, was like an icicle to the heart—cold and painful. “I’m doing okay, considering.”

“Yeah, it’s not easy. The death of my dad left me pretty wrecked for almost a year, so I get it. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

I wouldn’t need anything from him, but I smiled anyway. “Of course. Thanks.”

He looked beyond me, nodding. “Hey, Katie. Can I get a quart of the cream of chicken and a piece of whatever pie you’ve got? To go.”

“Sure thing, Finn. Cream of chicken and lemon meringue, coming up.” She headed for the back, leaving us alone together for the first time in too many years to count. I couldn’t hold his gaze, couldn’t look in that face that had brought me so much happiness and pain. Couldn’t—

“You should tell him.”

The world stopped, stuttered. Came back to life again with me as a passenger, spinning too fast to get my bearings. To see straight. To do anything but whisper, “It’s too late for that.”

“He’s my brother. I know him—it’s never too late when it comes to you.”

Damn it, I wasn’t ready for that conversation. Wasn’t ready to even think of such things. Thankfully, I didn’t need to. Katie had perfect timing, walking through the door holding a brown paper bag with handles before I needed to reply.

“Here you go, Finn.”

He stepped away, reaching for the bag. “You’ve got my card on file?”

“Yeah. Though, seriously—learn to carry a wallet.”

He met my eyes again, serious. So damn haunted. “My memory’s not as good as it used to be.”

Too bad mine was, which ruined what little appetite I had.

“Katie, this was excellent.” I reached for my purse, but Finn shook his head.

“Add her lunch to mine.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s the least I can do.” He grabbed his bag from Katie and headed toward the door, giving me room. Not letting me go just yet, though. “Let me walk you to your car.”

I slid off the stool and smiled at the woman behind the bar, figuring she’d be gossiping about my interaction with the younger Kennard twin if she still had friends in town. “It was good to see you again, Katie. Let me know if there’s anything you need my help with for the grand opening party.”

“I definitely will but not until after the funeral. You take your time to grieve.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Of course. And thanks for coming in.”

Finn led me outside, holding the door like a gentleman. “I’m real sorry about Miss. Her death will leave a hole in this town for sure.”

“Thanks. It’s so different up on that ridge without her, you know? Almost…eerie.”

He pulled me to a stop, his hold gentle. Not demanding in any way. “The ridge isn’t as safe as it once was. Can I… Will you give me your number so I can reach you if anything goes down?”

Hesitancy, paranoia, being on edge and defensive… The reversed nine of wands card, making itself known. It wasn’t the time to make hasty judgments. Besides, this was Finn. Former best friend. Former confidant. And before the drugs took hold of him, one of the few people I actually trusted. We didn’t have to be friends, but having someone to reach out to other than Bishop was probably a good idea. “Sure. Of course.”

He handed me his phone, and I quickly typed in my contact information before giving it back to him. He sent me a text right away with a fish emoji as the message. Something that made me smile again.

“Smartass.”

“Always.” He opened my car door for me, hanging on to the top of it as I slid into my seat. “Call me if you need anything. Anytime—doesn’t matter. I’ll be available. And be careful up there.”

“I will.” I buckled my belt, waving one last time as he shut my door before walking toward an old, deep blue pickup truck. I could only describe seeing him as bittersweet—I was thrilled he seemed healthy, so glad he looked clean and sober. But his face still caused an ache within me, his presence making my anxiety stand up and scream. I’d lost everything because of one mistake, and Finn sat at the heart of it. I’d lost my family, my future, and my place in this town. I’d lost Bishop, too—quite likely the only man I would ever love.

And there was no way I could ever get that back.

Not after what I did.

Not after what I had destroyed with Finn’s help.