“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Crystal scowled at Alaina as they walked down the sidewalk of downtown Blueville toward Bitsy’s Café.

“Come on. You love Bitsy’s donuts. I can’t believe you don’t go in there.”

“It’s not that I don’t. I just…” She let her voice trail off before she completed the sentence. She didn’t go there before noon since it was one of that woman’s favorite places to hang out. But Alaina didn’t know that. She came back to Blueville even less than Crystal did.

Which made Alaina’s presence incredibly exciting. A woman came out of the shop in front of them and stopped short. “Oh! It’s our famous actress!” She smiled broadly. “Wait until everyone hears this at bridge later. Will you take a picture with me?”

Alaina, always kind and gracious, smiled warmly. “Of course.”

The woman handed her phone to Crystal. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

It was the tenth or so photo she’d snapped that day. After their French toast breakfast, they’d gone to Crystal’s family’s feed and hardware store where Alaina had held court with several of Blueville’s dads and granddads who saw the store as their version of a coffee shop. Crystal’s dad had coffee available, and they stopped in to shoot the bull. Today they’d been delighted to fawn all over Alaina. And Crystal, if she were being honest. They were the people of Blueville who made her visits worthwhile. Which was why she rarely ventured anywhere else in town. And certainly not to Bitsy’s Café.

Alaina put her arm around the woman who laughed up at her. “You are so tall!” the woman said. “Or maybe it’s just that I’m so short.” She turned her attention back to Crystal and smiled wide.

Crystal took several pictures before handing the phone back to the woman. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” The woman tucked her phone back into her purse. “Bye!”

“So what’s the deal with Bitsy’s and everywhere else in town?” Alaina asked, as if the entire encounter was completely unremarkable, which to her it was. Really, it was to Crystal too. She’d been around Alaina’s fame since the very beginning.

“There’s no deal,” Crystal said, though her gait started to slow as they approached the café.

“Bull,” Alaina said. “You gave me a billion excuses at the store as to why we didn’t need to go to Bitsy’s. I’m not buying it. Plus, your mom made me promise I’d take you through town today. She said it would do you good. What does that even mean?”

“Nothing.”

Alaina let out a frustrated groan. “You’re impossible.”

They got to Bitsy’s, and Crystal peered in the window, scanning the interior. It looked safe…

Alaina opened the door with a disgruntled frown. “After you.”

Crystal squared her shoulders and walked inside. She looked over the space again and froze, her eyes landing on the man bent over a crossword puzzle at a table in the corner.

She let out a little gasp and turned her head but Alaina was already walking away. The stinker. She’d lured Crystal here under false pretenses.

Did she really care?

Crystal walked over to Jamie’s table. “Do you know a five-letter word for remorse?”

He looked up, his vivid hazel eyes burning into her. She had a visceral reaction, her entire being swaying toward him. But she held herself stiff.

“I do, in fact.” He used his foot to push the chair next to his out.

She slid into it and set her purse on the floor. Words stalled on her tongue. She took off her coat and draped it over the back of the chair. At last she said, “I’m sorry. But you already figured that out, crossword genius.”

“Actually, I’m stuck on one.” He looked down at the newspaper. “‘Phoebe of Gremlins.’ I can see her, but can’t think of her name.”

“Cates. You know you can google that, right?”

He looked horrified, his eyes widening. “That’s cheating.”

She pulled back, her hands up. “My bad, sorry. If you had googled it, you’d learn she was married to Kevin Kline.”

“Seriously? I didn’t know that.” He wrote the answer on the puzzle.

“She retired from movies like twenty-some years ago, but she’s still around the business because of him. They’re really nice.”

“You’ve met them, of course.” He shook his head and twirled his pen between his fingers.

“I have. Alaina was in a movie with him several years back. He’s great.”

“Jealous. I love him. A Fish Called Wanda is one of my favorite movies.”

“I think French Kiss is my favorite of his.” This felt good. A casual, fun conversation like they’d had a hundred times. She looked at the puzzle and another question jumped out at her. “Thirty-three across is moth.”

He dropped his gaze to the paper and read, “Creature on The Silence of the Lambs poster.” He filled in the squares.

Her eye strayed to the puzzle again. “Thirty-eight down is libido, I think.”

“Topic for Dr. Ruth.” He blinked at her. “You’re pretty good at this.”

“I had a little help—two of the letters were already filled in.”

“Still, this is the Sunday New York Times Crossword Puzzle.”

She shrugged. “So I’m good at movies and sex.”

He laughed. “I’d say you’re fantastic at the latter, but I’d also argue you’re good at more than that and movies. Stop discounting yourself.” He pinned her with an intent stare. “Really. I happen to know you’re also pretty good at penning million-dollar screenplay treatments.”

She felt heat flush her cheeks and glanced away. “Yeah, well. We’ll see how that pans out.”

“Why? From what I read yesterday, sounds like this is Hollywood’s hottest project right now.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she muttered. She’d texted Kim last night and asked her to send the treatment to Alaina who’d stayed up late reading it. They’d talked about it until they hadn’t been able to keep their eyes open.

“Tell me about it. Do you have offers or is it just buzz at this point?”

“There are offers. Plus, I gave it to Alaina. She wants it too, but she’s going through proper channels—meaning my agent.”

“That’s fantastic. I’m really proud of you.”

She couldn’t help but feel happy and flattered and…proud too. “Thanks.”

“You may be wondering why I came.” He reached down to a bag on the other side of his chair and pulled out a bound booklet. He set it in front of her. “I brought you this.”

It had a blank, pale blue cover. She couldn’t imagine what it could be. She turned her head to him, feeling a tremor of disappointment. “This is the reason you came?”

“One of them.” He nodded toward it. “Open it.”

She opened the cover and her breath caught. It read, “The Diary of Rose Stowe.”

She stared at the words a moment before lifting her gaze to his. “Where did you get this?”

“I told you I had a friend from college who was looking into the Stowe branch in San Francisco. She found this and sent it to me. I got it yesterday.”

“And you brought it to me.” She was incredibly humbled. “What, did you take a red-eye?”

“Yep.”

Her insides churned with a mixture of excitement and dread. “Have you read it?”

He nodded. “I think you’ll love it—after you’re done crying.”

She lifted her hand to her mouth. “Oh. I see.” She blinked. “I take it there’s new information here.” She’d lost hope of finding anything. Her efforts to locate Dorinda’s descendants—and the letters she’d written to her family in New York—had led nowhere.

“Yes. A full telling of Dorinda’s struggles in Oregon and of her friendship with Rose.”

She wanted to read it—and she would. But right now she wanted to hear it from him. Share it with him. She closed the cover and clasped her hands over it. “Tell me.”

He dropped his pen on the puzzle and turned in the chair, facing her and kicking his legs out from beneath the table. “It’s as you expected—Dorinda converted the boardinghouse to a brothel. A woman staying with her had worked at one on the eastern side of the state. She’d saved enough money to get out of the business and strike out of that town to start over. She’d stopped in Ribbon Ridge on her way to McMinnville where her cousin had settled. Dorinda took her idea and found some women who wanted to work there.”

Crystal was afraid to ask the question that had burned in her mind. “Did Dorinda… Was she a prostitute?”

“Rose doesn’t say, actually. It seems evident that she wasn’t by the time Rose arrived, which was in 1900.”

“So Rose was a prostitute?”

“No. She’d been run out of the town she’d lived in after her father died—you can read all about that in the diary. Dorinda took her in, and she did chores at the ranch. Seems like things were just fine until Turner Stowe visited the brothel. Instead of spending the night with one of the ladies, he met Rose. They fell in love—you really have to read those entries for yourself to grasp how star-crossed they were—but when his family found out, that’s when things turned bad.”

“Because she was mulatto?”

He nodded and pulled his legs up, scooting back up closer to her. “They organized the KKK crew to torch the ranch, but Turner warned them just before the group arrived. Dorinda got everyone out into the woods and faced them down herself.”

Crystal tensed, and she gripped her hands tightly together. “What happened?”

“Hoyt demanded Dorinda turn Rose over.”

“What did they plan to do with her?” Crystal’s voice climbed.

He put his hand on hers. It was warm and comforting. “I don’t know. She doesn’t say. Maybe she didn’t know.”

“Maybe she didn’t want to know. Better that way, I think.”

“Probably. Dorinda refused to give her up, so Hoyt shot her. Then he dragged her body into the house, and they torched it.”

“Oh my God. She didn’t really die in the fire.”

He shook his head. “No, she died facing down hatred. Rose and the others watched from the woods—Turner wouldn’t let any of them help Dorinda. He told them they’d all die, and he was likely right.”

Crystal couldn’t find the words to describe her feelings of horror and sadness. “I can’t believe you found this diary.”

“I didn’t.”

She exhaled, pushing the tension from her body. “You know what I mean. It means so much to me that you’d bring it all the way here. Thank you.” A tear suddenly fell from her eye.

He reached over and wiped it away. “I told you you’d cry.”

Emotion overwhelmed her. She leaned over and kissed him, reaching up to wrap her hand around his neck.

He clasped her head and pressed his lips against hers. He felt so good, like the sun after days and days of cold rain.

“Well, if it isn’t the town slut.”

Crystal pulled back, her hand covering her mouth. She whipped her head around but already knew who’d said it.

Jamie jumped up from his chair. “Who the hell are you?”

She smirked. “Patty Barlow. She probably hasn’t told you about me. Or Tommy. No, she ditched him and this town the first chance she had. Luckier than a winning lottery ticket is Crazy Crystal.” She smiled at Crystal, but there was no warmth. Just judgmental frigidity. She looked over at Jamie. “Do you know what you’re getting with this one?”

He took a step forward and put his hand on Crystal’s shoulder. “Yep. And I’m pretty damn lucky.”

Patty scoffed. “You say that now. Just wait. She’ll lure you in and break your heart, just like she did my Tommy. Wait, I forgot the part where she messes you up with drugs.”

Having heard more than enough, Crystal grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. Then she pulled her coat from the chair and threw it on before snatching up the diary. “A pleasure as always.” She stalked from the café.

Outside, Jamie slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her to a stop in front of the shop next door. “Hey. Wait up.”

She turned into him. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t listen to her.”

“I don’t blame you.” He shrugged into his coat. “Are you going to tell me about that?”

“I sort of already did—the part about my ex and the drugs.”

“Sure. I didn’t realize it was still a thing. Wasn’t that like fifteen years ago?”

“Yes, when I was a teenager. Something Judgmental Judy in there can’t seem to remember.” She clutched his lapel and crushed it in her hand. “This is why I hate coming back here.”

“Wait, you run into her every time you visit, and this happens?”

Okay, that almost made her laugh. “No, I tend to avoid coming into town, especially into Bitsy’s because it’s one of her hangouts. But just being here reminds me of that time—and she’s not the only one that can’t seem to let the past be the past.”

“Shit, are you telling me people attack you like that all the time? Where the hell is your damn family?”

She smoothed her hand over his chest. “No, it’s not like that. Patty’s the only one who says anything to my face anymore. A few did—a long time ago when I first came back after moving to LA. Now they just look at me with disgust or whisper. Patty told them plenty of stories about me—some true, some not.”

“That’s so obnoxious. I can’t believe you put up with that.”

“I don’t. That’s why I stay away.”

“But you do—I’d put that woman in her place. In fact, I think I will.” He started to turn and she clutched his lapel again, tugging him back around to face her. His eyes were hot with anger. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that. If anyone in Ribbon Ridge pulled that kind of shit, they’d be ridiculed.”

She flinched. “I can’t imagine they think too highly of me either.”

“Not true. My mother sends her best.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. She encouraged me to come after you. Because I love you. I know it’s not convenient, and you’ll find a million reasons to tell me we can’t work, but fuck it. I’m in love with you, for better or worse, and you have to live with it.”

Happiness spread through her, lighting up inside her like Christmas. She stood on her toes and kissed him. “I’ll be right back.”

She marched back into the café. Patty had just picked up her coffee from the bar and was turning toward the door. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth quirked into a nasty smile. “Back for more?”

“No. In fact I’m done listening to your trash. Your son got me into drugs, and if it weren’t for my mother and Alaina, I’d probably have overdosed and died. Yeah, I got lucky. And don’t think for a moment that I don’t know it. But you know what? I tried to get Tommy to go clean. I called him so many times from LA, but he wasn’t having any of it. I realize you must feel pretty awful to have spawned a kid like him—isn’t he back living in your basement after, what, his second divorce?”

Every bit of natural color drained from Patty’s face, leaving nothing but bright green eye shadow, stark pink blush, and scarlet lips. Crystal felt instantly horrible. That had felt good, but it didn’t justify sinking to her level.

“I’m sorry, Patty,” she said softly. “I know how much you love Tommy. I loved him too, once. But that was fifteen years ago. I’m not the same person I was then, and I’m guessing he isn’t either. I’m not to blame for whatever you think happened to him, and I don’t deserve your rudeness.”

Patty’s mouth tightened, the flesh around it wrinkling, showing just how much time she spent with that expression on her face. “You deserve that and worse.”

Crystal suddenly realized she’d never win. And she didn’t have to. There weren’t any winners or losers here, just a sad woman clinging to something she thought would give her peace. “I’m done. I forgive you and your vitriol. I hope you’ll find it within you to just look the other way if we cross paths.”

She turned and practically ran into Jamie. “I didn’t realize you followed me.”

“I did,” he said quietly, almost reverently. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her fast. “I love you.” He raised his voice, his gaze glued to hers. “Hear that? I love this woman.”

She grinned, love filling her heart. “I love you too.”

Patty walked around them and left the café. The few patrons that dotted the interior broke into applause, and Bitsy whistled from behind the counter. “Come over here and get a donut, Crystal!”

Crystal grabbed Jamie’s hand. “Come on, you have to have one of Bitsy’s donuts.”

As they waited at the counter, Crystal turned to him. “You’re right. I have a million excuses about why we won’t work, but maybe we can figure them out. I’m willing to try.”

He stroked a strand of hair from her forehead, his gaze caressing her. “Me too.”

“I suppose we should start with you meeting my family. After donuts, we’ll do just that.”

Something dark stole into his eyes. Was it fear?

“You okay?” she asked.

“Fine.” He gave her a reassuring smile, but she wasn’t sure she entirely bought it.

They would figure it out. What could go wrong?