Hank rose early the next day. He took his time sneaking out of bed, casting frequent glances back at Lana's sleeping form. It wasn’t like he could help himself—it wasn’t like he could keep from looking at her, anyway. Her gorgeous dark blonde hair streamed around her peacefully sleeping face, and her lips parted occasionally on a sigh of what he could only assume (or hope) was contentment. Even if he wasn't trying to sneak away, he would never bring himself to interrupt such a perfect vision.

Once dressed, he paused in the doorway to drink her in one last time before departing.

He went directly to Dyna's. He was on a mission that morning. He was going to wrestle up some breakfast for himself and Lana and bring it home to her, maybe even before she woke up. He entertained the idea of quickly unboxing everything upon arrival and pretending like he had made it himself, until she called him out on it, laughing. There was just no not recognizing Dyna's impeccable cooking.

Hank shouldered the door open. The familiar bell jangled above his head.

He recognized the figure standing at the register, ordering her own breakfast to go with a side of steaming black coffee.

He came up beside her. When Alex turned to notice him, he nodded his head. "Morning, Alex. Early shift today?"

The nurse smiled. "You got it. Same for you?" She seemed to catch herself, but too late.

Hank just shook his head. Landon would've already told her the news. "Not me. The Alaskan squad has been dismissed. Guess this town doesn't need us anymore."

"Oh, I don't know about that." Was it just his imagination, or was Alex suddenly averting her eyes as if she knew something he didn't?

Before he could think to dig deeper, Dyna returned to the cash register with Alex's order, boxed and bundled. She set it down on the counter and wrapped Hank in a quick hug. "Be right back with you, love! Alex, I just need your signature on the receipt."

"Of course." Alex fished a pen from the cup beside the register as Dyna bustled off toward a booth.

"Short-staffed today," Hank noted.

"If you chose to stick around town, I bet she would offer you a job," Alex said dryly.

"I bet you're right."

He thought he knew where this was going. Landon had likely told Alex of his plans to return to Alaska. Alex was a good friend of Lana's, and probably hell-bent on talking him into staying.

When she said nothing more and appeared about to leave with her breakfast, Hank caught her arm.

Now that was odd. She averted her eyes again, and now he knew he hadn't only been imagining things the first time. Alex had something to say to him, but whatever it was, she was struggling with it. It might be better to just let her go and let the conversation drop.

Hank found that he could only do one of those things. He let his hand fall from her arm. "Sorry, Alex. We don't get to talk often. I wondered if you had a minute to catch up."

"I've got to get to work. But . . ." Her eyes tracked to the clock on the wall. "I guess I do have a minute.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and firmed her jaw. “There's something I want to say to you, Hank."

Here it goes. Hank braced himself, already guessing the lecture he was about to get.

"Lana is a good friend of mine, Hank. It feels like I've known her forever. And even though I know you guys go further back than that, I . . ." Alex's eyes suddenly locked with his, her gaze penetrating. Hank had never seen the other woman so intensely focused on something that wasn't work. Or Landon, come to think of it. "I can appreciate what you mean to her. But you seem to be hesitating. It seems to me like you want all the fun and excitement of recapturing the past, but none of the responsibility."

Hank was completely taken aback. He felt like an idiot now, having anticipated that Alex would list all the reasons he should stay. He stepped away from her and dropped his eyes, briefly studying the floor. Unfortunately, no good answer to her razor-sharp accusations lay at his feet.

"I didn't realize Lana had been talking to you," was the best he could come up with on such short notice.

Alex laughed, a little cynically. "Of course she does! You must have no idea how women work, Mr. Logan." Her cynicism dissolved toward something resembling sympathy then, and Hank didn't know which was worse.

"It's not something I ever expected to deal with," he said gruffly. Again, not his most eloquent, but he had never been good at trying to hold this kind of conversation.

"So how complicated do you think this is for Lana?" Alex demanded. "Do you have any idea what she's going through right now? You have a good thing here, Hank. No one gets to go back. But . . . you need to think this whole thing through. Carefully."

Alex spoke firmly, but Hank noticed that the hands that gripped her takeout shook slightly. He knew about her past, the death of her husband. She was speaking to him from a place no one else could come from.

"Alex, Lana and I are . . ." he trailed off, wishing he had planned this sentence before commencing it. Wishing he knew what it was that he and Lana were supposed to be.

"Hank, I don't have time to stand here and listen to you try and work things out," Alex interrupted. "Anything you need to say, you need to say it to Lana."

She took her coffee and left the diner, and that was the end of the conversation.

Hank stood alone at the register. When Dyna rapped the counter with her knuckles, he finally glanced up. She had an order in hand for him, and a receipt.

"What's this?" His eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"It's what you came here for." Dyna slid the order over to him. "The same thing you always order. And the same thing Lana always orders. That will be fifteen dollars, even. So what's up?"

Dyna eyed him as he pulled out his wallet. Hank could swear there was something else she was looking for besides his money, something on his face. Was it information she sought? The encounter with Alex had already thrown him for a loop. Was everyone trying to get something out of him?

"How's Lana doing?" Dyna inquired.

"Good." Hank paid and took his grub.

"Yeah? That's good to hear." Dyna continued to size him up. He could have walked out the door with a nod and farewell, but something kept him rooted to the spot. Maybe it was just the intensity of her look. She looked like she wanted to stick a damn pin in him if it meant keeping him there. She surprised him further by saying, "Hey, I've got a question for you."

"What's that?"

"If you could do anything you wanted to do, and there were no consequences, what would that be?

"That's mighty deep of you, Dyna." Hank considered for a moment. "I don't think I really know. Go back in time and do a whole lot of things different."

"Sounds to me like you know just fine." Dana smiled, then laughed softly. "And honey, everybody would do that if they could. You need to do the next best thing, whatever that is.” Her gaze grew sharper. “Lana is a good woman."

"I know she is," he said softly.

He left after that, not even thinking to say goodbye. When he turned back around in the parking lot, he saw Dyna waving to him and knew that he was forgiven. He had too much on his mind. She had given him too much to mull over in the span of a single question, and she probably knew it, too.

What was the next best thing to doing things differently?

"To not repeat the mistakes of the past," Hank said quietly to himself. "And to not make the same mistake again."