UNCLEAR OF WHAT TO do with herself now, Tara simply showed up the next morning at work. Her sigh of relief was almost exaggerated when she saw Chloe wasn’t in. She was taking time off and Petra was filling in as manager. Something that obviously pleased Petra. She wore different clothes instead of the usual uniform and attacked the job as if a corporate sponsor were watching, intending to replace Chloe with her permanently. Tara hated to inform Petra there was no such chance. There was only one manager and Chloe was it, as well as being the owner. Still, Tara was eternally grateful to be there and she got busy. Back in a routine that she cherished and with the usual customers that she counted on interacting with daily, she wondered now how she survived so long on the streets. She thrived in a community where she could interact and matter to people. She could not bear to imagine going back to a time when she did not matter to anyone. She liked belonging to something bigger than herself.

Gruesome as it was to contemplate, two years ago, if Tara were murdered and had her body dumped somewhere, no one would have ever known she was missing or even cared. She’d have been a faceless, homeless, sad runaway and some official like Ryder would shake his head over how tragic it all was. And now? All of these people would surely care. They knew her. And they would notice her absence. Of course they would comment on it and she believed they would truly care.

She was terrified she’d show up at the café and discover Chloe had fired her. But there was nothing. Not a word was said. Tiana, Petra, Chet, and Dok simply spoke in subdued, serious tones, asking, “How is Chloe doing? And, of course, Ryder?” Tara answered as if she had some authority, although she had none. Every customer, except for a trucker who was passing through town, asked her the same thing. It was the only topic of conversation. She understood why. It was sickening and shocking and had happened right there. Nothing like that had ever happened in the town before, let alone to one of their own citizens. Tara saw many tears from multiple patrons. She learned all about Ebony from them. She met Ebony’s fourth grade teacher, her Girl Scout leader, and her partner in yoga. All day long, the people connected to Ebony in some way came in as if unofficially celebrating and honoring Ebony. Tara was awed and touched by what she saw. Inside, however, sometimes it made her seethe with selfishness over what it was costing her.

Wyatt didn’t come into the café after school. Tara preferred not to ask anyone what they knew because it would suggest that she didn’t know. So she acted as if it weren’t any surprise. But her heart was heavy with grief during the next few days. Petra was the one who told her when and where the funeral was going to be held: the upcoming Saturday at two o’clock in the community church. It was a quaint building, white-washed with an old-fashioned bell tower on the roof. The river was visible off in the distance.

Tara wondered what should she do? Petra planned to close the café from one o’clock on so Tara wasn’t working. The staff would all be attending the funeral, of course, for the woman they worked for. The family that still owned the business and the people that frequented it were all going to be there.

How could Tara not go? She was supposed to be dating Ryder and worked in what was essentially his café. It was common decency that she attend. But how could she? What if Chloe and her parents saw it as a slap in the face? Would Ryder see it that way too? What if he simply asked her to leave? But then again, how could she not show up without any reason? She couldn’t. Not if she planned to stay in this town. Which she did. Even now. No matter what happened with Ryder and even with Chloe. If Chloe fired her, Tara intended to find work somewhere else. She’d gotten to know a lot of people who lived around there and had already proven herself a reliable, hardworking, obedient, and loyal employee. She’d easily find another job. Having the confidence to believe in herself and knowing she would succeed was a totally new phenomenon. But she fully intended to stay there. She wanted to be there. It was the first home she’d ever had and nothing could drive her away from it. She lifted her chest and straightened her spine. No. She wasn’t running away again. Not now. Not from here. And no one else could push her out either.

On the day of the funeral, Tara showered and slipped on a black skirt that skimmed her knees. She wore a black tank top with a black blazer over it. Spending her precious tip money on the solemn, dark outfit, she realized she had nothing for her feet besides her tennis shoes. She found a pair of black flats that were used and slightly worn at a thrift store. Slipping her hair into a tight knot at the nape of her neck, she slicked back the stray strands and prepared to leave. Her face was free of any makeup except for mascara, although she had a hard time convincing herself to go. There was nothing about her appearance that would draw attention to her. She did not want the proceedings to involve her. She looked completely appropriate, yet still, her stomach roiled in butterflies and she could not eat anything.

She rode the bus and walked a half mile to the church’s location. Carefully mapping her route the day before, as well as the time she had to leave at, Tara clutched the small, black purse that contained her bare essentials.

She waited for the service to start, planning to slip in the back door ten minutes late and slide into the furthest corner. She hoped to be as far from anyone else as she could be with everyone’s back to her. There was one man sitting in the aisle seat. He didn’t even look towards her as she sat down. Tara lifted her eyes towards the front of the church. It was more of a memorial than a formal funeral. There was no body to view, thankfully. It hadn’t been released from the medical examiner’s office yet. Although Ebony’s identity was duly confirmed, there was still an ongoing investigation.

Flowers were arranged in huge, colossal wreaths and vases that filled the altar. No expense had been spared. There was soft piano music before the pastor stood up and started to quote eloquent biblical passages while adding his own embellishment. He talked about Ebony’s life and short timeline. Songs were sung. Poems were read. A slideshow of her life was set to music, beginning when she was very young. So many shots of her were with Chloe. Two beautiful girls, who were impossible to tell apart. Sitting in the bath, all round and chubby at age two. Wearing matching dresses and pigtails on the first day of kindergarten, and smiling on their fifth grade graduation. The girls at band concerts and on camping trips, and plenty of holidays interspersed. Family pictures taken with Adaline and Kylar. When Ryder appeared, Tara sat up and looked closer. He seemed so young.

They met at college, which surprised Tara. She had never asked. She suddenly realized she never really inquired about their relationship and how they came to be. After attending community college together, Ryder stopped his education, but Ebony went on to graduate from Portland State University. There was a picture of her in her cap and gown with her family and Ryder, all smiling as they gathered around her. When the music changed to a love song, Tara didn’t doubt it must have meant something special to Ryder and Ebony. Was it a song from their first date? The first dance at their wedding? She saw some pictures of their wedding. She held her breath when she saw how handsome Ryder was. Dressed in a formal tux beside Ebony, who was a true vision. Divine. Breathtaking and gracious in her ivory gown of lace and pearls.

Then, Ebony was pregnant. Ryder was hugging her, patting her stomach, and later on, in the hospital. Ryder was holding up Baby Wyatt, and grinning as brightly as the sun’s rays after a storm. He was gazing down at Ebony and Wyatt and Tara saw so much love shining out of Ebony’s face that she squirmed, becoming almost uncomfortable by it.

Many more family photos were shown until Wyatt was eighteen months. Then… it abruptly ended. That was when she was unceremoniously dumped into a swamp.

Tears flowed all around Tara. She could only glimpse Adaline briefly through the thick crowd. Her head was bent over and her shoulders shook. Kylar’s arm was on her shoulders and he pulled her close to him. Chloe’s head was bowed. Her tears made her entire body shake.

And then she saw Ryder.

Tara’s heart thumped in her chest. Oh, God. His face was so distraught and pale. His eyes were rimmed with red and bags were outlined beneath them. His lips were pressed together in a line and he had one hand against the side of his temple. It was something he often did when he had a headache brewing. Tara covered her mouth and stifled a moan. He was so obviously in pain that it broke her heart just watching him. Her anger at his abrupt withdrawal from her simply evaporated when she witnessed his pain.

Beside him was Wyatt. Tears streamed down her face and she wiped them away. The tiny, little boy looked so frail and handsome… and confused. His gaze was fastened on his dad. His eyebrows furrowed as he snuck a glance over at his grandparents. Both sides of his family were represented. Ryder’s parents sat on the opposite side. Ryder’s mom rested her hand on Ryder’s shoulder. Tara saw love, and so much of it, surrounding them.

Other people spoke. Friends. Family. Chloe. Oh, yes, Chloe. It was impossible to keep a dry eye after listening to Chloe speak about her twin sister. Their love and friendship and irreplaceable loss.

Eventually, Ryder stood up and spoke. The entire church went silent. He took the small podium and leaned into the microphone. “My name is Ryder, and Ebony was my… wife.” His voice cracked saying the word. He had to pause momentarily and a shuddered breath emerged from him. Then he shook his head and stood up straighter before he started to speak. Tara learned more about their history. They met in their first quarter of college during history class. She was working on an associate’s degree to ultimately transfer to a university and earn a business degree. Her end goal, however, was to manage a restaurant. Chloe worked in the kitchen and Ebony took care of the business. Ryder was getting his two-year degree in criminal justice and planned to become a game warden. He moved to Portland and later to Silver Springs to live with her.

Tara’s mouth popped open. She erroneously believed Ryder had been born and raised there. The way he talked about the town, and how the town spoke about him, she was amazed to realize Ebony was the hometown girl. Ryder came there and stayed in the town for her. He told anecdotes about the café business and having Wyatt. Everyone sobbed when his voice suddenly hitched and he bent forward, pausing before discussing her absence in his life. He said how much he missed her. Tara didn’t care that he missed another woman. Ebony was his wife. His true love. Tara’s heart broke because she loved Ryder and could not bear to see his grief. It was so much more than his need to cry. She saw a visceral pain. It went much further than Tara’s hurt feelings when he didn’t want to hang out with her. He forgot her presence at times. She nearly sunk in her seat with shame, she was so mortified by her own selfishness in this. She didn’t know Ebony. And never saw Ryder with her. But she did believe their love was deep and genuine, and so was Ryder’s pain.

She just didn’t know that before.

She knew it now.

After a few more songs and prayers and plenty of tears, it finally ended. The tears were everywhere. Petra. Tiana. Dok. Chet sat beside his mother, and his face was solemn and blank. No one ever knew what Chet really thought or felt. He didn’t express himself, not in words or facial expressions. He was always poker-faced. Dozens of patrons from the café were all there to pay their respects and most were crying. Or at a minimum, tears filled their eyelids. Even Tara cried.

She remained seated, hiding all huddled in the corner. She let the rest of the people shuffle out before her. It was finally over. There was a reception planned, not there, but at Ryder’s house. She had no idea what to do next. Should she go? Hide? What?

With her face looking down, Tara stared at her feet and most of the attendees ignored her. The place soon emptied until only the family remained. She saw Ebony’s parents exit with Chloe. She turned to the side, hoping they wouldn’t notice her. She intended to leave but only after everyone else to avoid any awkwardness. She wondered still if it were appropriate for her to go there.

She glanced to the side, and shit! There was Ryder. His gaze landed on her. She nearly leapt to her feet and ran, cringing inwardly. His face remained a blank, silent mask. Holding Wyatt’s hand tightly in his, Ryder leaned down and whispered in his ear. Wyatt responded by giving his hand to his grandmother and saying something. She nodded, taking Wyatt with her before Ryder veered off and began to approach her.

A deep blush crept up Tara’s neck and chin and cheeks. She wished she could vanish from the embarrassment and regret she felt after drawing him from his son and family at the funeral. She licked her lips, preparing for the worse. Would he order her out of there? Perhaps just speak rudely to her? It was hard for her to imagine that coming from Ryder Kincaid. But under these circumstances, who knew how pressed he’d feel to get her away from there?

When she finally couldn’t take it any longer, she jumped to her feet. Her gaze clung onto his. He swooped in closer as she shook her head over and over, saying, “I’m sorry. I just…”

What? Decided to crash your wife’s funeral? Had to hear the details of how you felt about Ebony for me to realize how little you feel for me? Because I am selfish and small and insecure? What could she say?

He stopped dead in his tracks. His gaze was totally flat as it encompassed her.

He didn’t say a word but leaned forward and took her hand. Pulling it gently, he passed by her and began dragging her behind him. She stumbled and had to scramble in order to get her footing but she went right behind him as he exited through a side door. They were all alone in the side room of the church.

He turned to her and her heart hurt. He would probably yell at her now. Tell her he hated her. And break up with her.

But no… He suddenly stepped forward, right into her personal space, backing her up until she bumped into the closed door. He wrapped his arms around her. Scooping under her armpits, his thick, muscled arms crossed behind her back. He pulled her up onto her tiptoes and clung to her. She was nothing less than stunned. Her hands were still up in the air as if she were under arrest. He buried his head in her neck. She slowly lowered her hands to his shoulders, completely thrilled to find herself in his embrace. Clinging to her, he moved his head and seemed to suck in a deep breath.

She turned and pulled his head towards her, wrapping her arms around him and tucking his head against her like a young child might do with their mother. He gripped her tightly.

His hands squeezed her skin. His fingertips were hard and demanding… but mostly, he seemed needy. His breathing sounded heavy against her. She clutched him in response but found him urgently pressing her against him in a desperate manner. She had no idea what that meant or where they were headed. For some unprecedented and unforeseen reason, he needed her now. Here and now.

He lifted his face off her shoulder and gazed into her eyes. Then he stared at her forehead and scanned her face. She bit her lip, wondering what his thoughts were. His head tilted as his mouth came closer and barely grazed hers. She closed her eyes at the soft, almost whisper-like touch. Shifting forward, he took her in his arms again and embraced her before his mouth came down much harder on hers.

The kiss was insistent, demanding, and needy. It was unlike any other kiss from Ryder. There was no gentle teasing and no tenderness in his hold or his gaze. His concern was not towards her. This was all about what he wanted, what he needed from her. She opened her mouth and tried to give all of herself to him. Whatever it was, she wanted him to have it. Whether for comfort or simply distraction or more. She didn’t care. She’d give him whatever she had to help him. She loved him that much.

He hadn’t really talked to her in more than a week. Not since the discovery of Ebony. Tara couldn’t predict his thoughts or feelings about her place in all of this. She hadn’t a clue concerning his point of view in all that happened. He could simply release her and tell her to leave and never return.

But instead, his mouth was crushing hers as his tongue delved deeper. Holding her jaw with his hands, he tilted her head the way he wanted it and hovered, all hot and hard over her. She had no idea what kind of a room they were in, only that it was small and windowless and the door was locked.

His body blocked hers against the door. She felt him pressing her harder as his hands trailed down to the back of the skirt she wore. He pulled on it until it bunched up in his hand and then, he put his hand under her skirt. Startled by his boldness, she jerked her neck back, ending the kiss.

He stared at her and dropped the material in his hands. Pressing his forehead on hers, his heavy breathing nearly left him gasping for breath. He shook. She lifted her hands up to his face and she held it. “Make love to me, Ryder. Here. Now.”

His eyes widened and he jerked his head away from hers. With nostrils flaring and his eyes sparkling, he knew it was wrong. Totally wrong. But that’s what he needed from her. She was convinced of it. She could give him that. It didn’t matter. She could easily let him do that.

His hand snatched her underwear and he pulled and tugged at it. She was sure he’d have ripped them clean off, but her panties didn’t tear. He finally pushed them down her legs and waited for her to step out of them. Gripping his belt, she undid it along with the button of his dress trousers. She pushed his button-down shirt out of the way and tugged him out of his underwear.

His hands gripped her breasts through her top and pinched her nipples. She cried out and he lifted her hip with one hand and pushed her against the door. He shoved inside her hard and deep. She had to grip his shoulders for purchase. He didn’t wait for her. Over and over, he rammed and jerked and rode her. There was nothing soft or tender about it. It was fast, crazy, and incessant. His hips thrust like pistons and her body was slick and smooth for him. All of a sudden… her eyes closed and her entire body heated up, swirling with colors until nothing mattered. Everything else was lost to her. Thoughts. Feelings. Place. Reality. She suddenly began to shake, starting from her core and ending in all her nerve endings. Something hot and wonderful jolted through her, like her blood was burning on fire.

She finally had an orgasm. Holy shit. She’d had sex and reached an orgasm from it. He did too then. Hard and punishing, his body filled her up as he grasped her hips and kept her next to him. Her arms circled his back and she clung to him. Gasping as her high started to descend, his shoulders slumped and he leaned his head down on hers. She knew then, as both of their highs disappeared, he was ashamed and horrified over what they’d done and where they chose to do it.

“What? Shit. What was this?” he muttered and she sighed. No. Things were not going well with them. But this? Somehow felt right. It was exactly what he needed. Who knew?

She took in a deep breath and tilted her face back until she could stare into his eyes. She lifted a hand and pushed away his unruly hair that sprang over his forehead. It was a tender, sweet gesture, and quite the opposite of what they’d just done. “Sometimes, sex reaffirms life.”

His hands came up and gripped her wrists before he pulled her arms from around his neck. “Or reaffirms someone’s claim.”

She shut her eyes for a moment in horror. Did he believe she’d essentially pissed on him to claim him as hers? And not Ebony’s? That would be crazy… insecure… delusional…

Did she?

“Make love to me, Ryder. Here. Now.” Her eyes flashed open when he copied her. But he was much more exaggerated. “Since when do you ask for that? Since when do you talk like that?”

“Since…” She hesitated. But there they were. There was nothing more left to lose. Her pride included. “Since I wanted to make you feel better. Since I watched and listened to you describe your love for another woman. And since I had to learn, listen and most of all, understand how you still felt about her. And since I realized I love you and since it’s okay with me if you love her like that. I can love you enough for both of us. For right now. You can go through whatever you have to go through.”

He didn’t answer her and his mouth stayed closed but he was frowning. His eyeballs kept darting around. Finally, he asked, “What are you doing in here with me?”

“What are you doing? You didn’t have to come over and get me.” She sighed and his expression dimmed. “Because you needed me. You saw me and you needed me, Ryder, that’s what happened whether you choose to admit it or not. You just feel guilty about it.”

His eyes closed. Their bodies were still bare. She leaned forward and grabbed her panties, sliding them back on where they belonged. He turned and adjusted his pants, tucking his shirt back in and putting on his blazer before he reknotted his errant tie.

“I have to go now. The reception…”

“I know. It’s at your house.”

He nodded. His gaze flicked over to hers and then away. She’d never seen him acting so unsure with her. He must have been unsure about her too, she believed. It was always the other way around. He cleared his throat. “Come over. After…” His hand was on the doorknob. “Please?”

He didn’t know what to do with her now. Yet he wanted her badly. Her heart lifted and sank in the span of two seconds. His guilt made him act so oddly distant, yet their connection, and his feelings for her, kept him wanting and needing her.

She reached out and touched his hand. “Yes.”

Then he shook his head. “How? How are you going to get there? Walk?” He sighed. “Just come. Now. Come with me and Wyatt. This is so stupid. People already knew we were… together. And whatever. I don’t know the damn protocol.”

Were together? It made her entire insides clench with worry. On the other hand, was he now saying Fuck it? As in, just come with me now, and we’ll ignore everyone?

“I’ll get a ride from Petra. Okay?”

His shoulders eased just a bit and he turned and left the room. She wilted against the wall. What had she done? Why? Here at the church! Right after Ryder had just spoken so lovingly and displayed so much grief about his wife. And yet… they engaged in this? Worst of all, it didn’t feel wrong. Not to say she wouldn’t have died if anyone knew or suspected. She would have. She’d have been so far beyond ashamed and horrified if anyone knew. But he needed her. And in many ways, she responded to that. She didn’t regret for a second how she had expressed her love for him. And whatever his feelings were for her, he wasn’t over her, not yet.

She exited the room, peeking around, but not a soul was visible. She quickly entered the lobby. Most people were chatting in small groups. She spotted Petra and scooted over to her. “Could I get a ride with you? Over to the reception?”

Petra turned and embraced her with a wide, motherly hug. “Of course you can, sweetie. This must be very hard on you too,” she said gently. Tara was pleasantly surprised by the protective concern in Petra’s voice and her hug… How dear it felt to be noticed by another human. Petra knew she was upset and Tara was grateful that someone cared.

She nodded. “It is.” Her tone was quiet and subdued.

Petra patted Tara’s hand. “Give the boy some time. He’ll come around. He’s just confused. He doesn’t know what to do after this.”

She smiled and nodded. Tara let the older woman press her against her ample bosom and hug her. It was the kindest gesture directed toward Tara in a long time. Oddly enough, it helped. Especially after feeling so alone during the funeral and then so odd afterwards. Sure, she was needed by Ryder, but also resented for creating that need.

“Why didn’t you come and sit with us? I saw you slip in back there and sit down all alone.”

She shrugged, pulling away from Petra. “I don’t know. I mean…”

Tiana frowned. “You’re one of us now, Tara. You can quit keeping yourself so off and all alone. We get it. Chloe is hurting. But so are you. Don’t think we’ll let her fire you. It’s not your fault.”

Petra clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Tiana! No one said anything about anyone leaving the café.”

Dok grinned. She hugged Tara too. “It’s true. You no longer sit all alone and pathetic. You come find your friends. Us. Right?”

Tara’s eyes refilled with tears. She had friends. And she hadn’t even known it.