Chapter Twenty-Three

It had been a week of kisses, shared meals, and a mostly sober Ben. Sage settled into her life in Aspen Cove. She had no plan—just a goal of making it through each day and ending it with a smile and a grade-A Cannon Bishop kiss. He knew how to make her toes curl with a touch of his lips.

Sage’s sister had all but given up asking about her plans to return to Denver. The conversations were now focused on Lydia’s boyfriend, Adam, and how he spent his life at the hospital. Lydia’s twelve-hour shifts made it seem impossible for her to be lonely, but she sounded like a castaway on a deserted island.

Sage tried to support her sister and downplay the loneliness by saying, “I know he’s taking on more work, but that puts him in a good position to be influential when you’re finished with your residency and looking for a permanent job.”

Lydia groaned. “I’ll need a job. My savings are on the low end.”

Residents weren’t paid a full salary. For the last three years, Lydia had been paid the equivalent of a coffee shop manager.

As an RN, Sage made $20,000 more a year than her sister, but there was less room for pay increases and advancement as a nurse. Lydia’s salary would increase exponentially with experience.

“I’ve got money, I can help.” Sage was on her last week of paid vacation, but saving was second nature to her. There was no one more deserving to share her nest egg with than Lydia.

“Are you still working for birth control pills?”

To say it was a mistake to tell Lydia that Sage had traded shifts at the clinic for birth control was an understatement. Her sister would never let her live it down.

“It’s different here. I’m not in need of anything.”

“Liar,” she teased. “You need to get Cannon between the sheets.”

Another mistake was to talk to Lydia about her sex life—or lack thereof.

“It’s only been two weeks.”

“He’s nine days past Cosmo’s three-date requirement.”

“He’s cautious. I respect that.” Remembering back to that day at the liquor mart and that girl Mel, Sage didn’t get the impression that Cannon used caution with regularity. What made Sage different? “If I’m giving this place a try, I have to take my time. Make smart decisions. He does, too. It’s not like there’s an abundance of single men or women living here. We have to be picky and prudent.”

“I can’t imagine living there.” In the background, the hospital intercom paged someone. “I’ve got to go. I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Sage looked over the rail at Otis, who chased a bird into the water. It reminded her she needed to bring her winged creature out on the deck for its daily dose of fresh air.

When she returned from her room to the rail, she opened the box. The bandage had fallen off days ago. The bird hopped to the edge, like it did every day. It spread its wings and flapped. Each day, it grew stronger. It would exercise and then sink back into the fresh towel Sage had folded at the bottom of the box.

Today, it flapped and stopped. Flapped and stopped. Sage leaned on the handrail that held the cardboard container. The bird hopped to the edge closest to her and squawked like it was trying to get her attention. She took her eyes off Otis and focused on the demanding bird.

“What do you want, you little troublemaker?” She looked down at the critter that had bridged the gap between Cannon and her.

It squawked again. With its wings spread, it flapped with force and took flight. The journey was one of joy and sorrow for Sage. She had grown accustomed to the bird. Feeding it and caring for it had become one of her daily pleasures. She’d used the bird as an excuse to stay in town, but it was probably time to be honest with herself. She was happy in Aspen Cove. She’d overstayed her welcome in Denver, and it had been time to spread her own wings and fly. Bea made sure she landed safely in the little town.

She watched the tiny thing until it became a dot on the horizon.

Sage thought about Cannon, Katie, and Ben, her three best reasons to stay in Aspen Cove now that the bird had healed.

Cannon was at the bar doing inventory for his Friday liquor run. Katie was probably elbow-deep in muffin batter and supervising Ben, who despite having paid back his debt, showed up to help her each day. He had made progress. Down to three drinks a day, his shakes had stopped, and his skin had a healthy pink glow to it. He was still too skinny, but Ben was like Rome and couldn’t be built in a day.

“Let’s go, Otis.” The dog looked up at her like a child. “I’ve got a lunch date with Katie.”

He trotted up to the deck and shook himself off. Water flew from his fur in every direction, giving Sage an unexpected shower.

“Thanks a lot, buddy.” She pulled the towel she kept handy from the deck chair and gave him a good rubdown. “You’re staying here today.”

As long as he had a comfy chair and a bowl of kibble, Otis couldn’t care less where he stayed. She got him situated and left for Maisey’s Diner. This would be her first local dining experience.

Five minutes later, she walked into the little eatery. It wasn’t the fifties experience she expected, with records on the wall and Elvis posters everywhere. Nope, Maisey’s was a James Dean experience. Highly shined motorcycles were perched like trophies on pedestals between the booths. Hubcaps and handlebars decked the walls. On the soffit above the counter was a James Dean quote that read, “Dream as if you’ll live forever, live as if you’ll die today.”

Blonde hair drew her attention. In the center booth to the right was Katie. Her hand rose high in the air and waved. It wasn’t like Sage could miss her; she was one of two people in the place, and the other person was a frail bald man.

Sage tucked herself into the booth across from her friend. “Why haven’t I been here before?”

“Because they’re hardly ever open.” Katie glanced around. “Dalton says it’s off-season, but next week they open full-time.”

“Nights, too?” There would be another option besides her microwave.

“Nope. The nights are for pool and beer.”

That seemed to be the way of it. It was as if there was an unwritten rule. The local businesses didn’t encroach on each other. Maisey’s didn’t sell muffins or other bakery goods except for pie. B’s bakery didn’t sell pie. Bishop’s Brewhouse didn’t sell food. Maisey’s didn’t sell alcohol. The Corner Store sold food and soda, but they didn’t sell pharmacy-related items. Doc’s didn’t sell food, unless you counted candy. Everyone had their little corner of the world here. They worked in harmony, except for old man Tucker. He bootlegged, which probably ate up some of Cannon’s profits.

The bell above the door rang, and in walked the devil himself. Cannon looked absolutely delicious in his jeans and black T-shirt. All he needed to do was grease back his hair and straddle a motorcycle, and he’d fit right in. Behind him, to her surprise, walked Ben.

“Oh wow.” Katie leaned forward so she could watch them around the edge of the booth.

“Wow is right.” If Sage thought Cannon was being cautious with her, he was more so with his father. The two men hadn’t talked much. Cannon kept a safe distance. Close enough to step in if needed, but far enough away that if Ben erupted into proverbial flames, Cannon wouldn’t get burned. So the fact that they were dining together was a big deal.

The men sat across from each other. Ben stared at the menu as if it was the first time he’d seen it. Cannon looked Sage and Katie’s way and smiled. He rose from his seat and walked over to where they sat.

“Dad said you were here.” He bent over and brushed a light kiss across Sage’s lips. “I thought I’d feed him.”

Katie flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I do feed him.”

He looked at her. “I know you do. Today is more than that.”

Sage wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged. “I’m glad you’re here with him.” She wanted to tell him she was proud, but it seemed a stupid thing to say. She didn’t have the history he had with Ben, and proud wasn’t a strong enough word. It was one thing to lose a parent because they died, another to lose a parent because they walked around like they were dead. Her situation was far easier to swallow.

“Come to the bar tonight?” His eyes were soft and bluer than green today. She’d learned over the days she’d spent with him that green was the color of passion for him. Blue meant something else. Generally, his eyes took on that icy look when he pulled away.

“Sure. I’ll be there.” He gave her another peck on the lips and walked away.

Dressed in a frilly apron and a bouffant updo, Maisey approached their table. “Hello girls, what’s it going to be?”

Although Sage had never been in the diner, she knew Maisey from the funeral. She also knew from the scuttlebutt around town that the blue plate special was the best thing to order.

“Blue plate for me,” Sage said. She looked over at Ben and Cannon and wondered if they’d order the same. She would have loved to invite them to join her, but they needed this time to reconnect.

“Same for me,” Katie said. Maisey moved on to Cannon and Ben’s table.

Out of the kitchen came Dalton. He walked to Sage and Katie’s booth and nodded toward Katie.

She jumped up and gave him a friendly hug. There was nothing intimate to the gesture. It was the kind of hug a person gave a friend or relative. “I don’t think you’ve formally met Sage.”

He looked at Sage with a scowl that could slice her in half. Dalton was central casting for Sons of Anarchy, all the way from the skull-and-crossbones bandana tied around his head to his black boots. In between were ink and muscle and attitude.

“Nice to meet you, Sage.” His voice was rough and low. “You get the special?”

They both nodded, and he walked away.

“Not long on words.”

Katie laughed. “No, but don’t let him scare you. He’s a really nice guy.”

Sage glanced right to see him stop at Cannon’s booth. All three men looked her way. Sage moved into the corner of the red vinyl bench. “He looks like a murderer.”

“He is,” Katie said, as if that wasn’t an odd thing to say. She liked the bad boys, but a murderer? “He’s on parole.”

“No way.” Sage leaned forward to glance at the man who was as big as an oak tree and as mean-looking as a rabid dog.

Katie’s blonde locks floated over her shoulders with the nod of her head. “No, seriously, he’s only been out of prison for a month or so.”

Sage was speechless. She’d been living in a town with a paroled murderer for weeks. Shouldn’t there be a neighborhood watch letter that informed people of the dangers in town? She lived two doors down from the man and could easily be his next victim. “Oh my God, and I had started to like this place.”

Katie’s trophy smile turned into a thin line of disappointment. “Unless you’re beating up women, you have nothing to worry about.”

“What?” Sage’s head was still wrapped around the word murderer.

Katie rearranged her silverware and then leaned into the center of the table. “He came out of a bar one night and saw a man beating up a woman. He stepped in. The two men fought. Dalton knocked him out, and the other guy never got up.”

“Wouldn’t that be self-defense?”

“No, not in this case. Dalton was angry to see a woman abused, and he stepped into a fight that didn’t involve him. It was considered an act of passion. The guy hit the ground dead.”

“How do you know all this?”

Back was the smile. “I own a bakery where people sit, eating muffins and chatting.”

“Geez. I need to get out more. The only chatting I hear is from people complaining about skin conditions and sore throats and hemorrhoids. I don’t get the good stuff working for Doc.” Like Ben at the bakery, Sage had been showing up to clinic days to help Doc because it gave her a purpose and made her feel like a member of the community.

“You need to bring a book and sit in the corner of the bakery for a day. It’s amazing what you can learn. This town is like a soap opera.”

“I’m missing everything. If I’m going to stick around, I need more information.”

“So you’re staying?” She said it loud enough for everyone in the place to hear. Cannon turned to her and stared.

“I’m not committing to anything permanent, but I don’t have plans to leave.”

Katie squealed with delight. “I’m so happy.”

When Sage looked at Cannon, he looked happy, too.