“Emma, we’re leaving in ten minutes,” Claire called out from the kitchen, loud enough for her daughter, hiding in her bedroom, to hear.

Claire grimaced at the sandwich she wrapped up, aware of the irony of making her daughter a PBJ when, at the coffee shop she owned, she had healthy spinach and feta wraps, turkey and goat cheese sandwiches and yogurt cups with organic granola.

But Emma loved her PBJ. And she loved them on very unhealthy white bread and because Claire was tired of having her very healthy lunches return uneaten, she gave in. With the litany of other complaints Emma had tossed her way about school - complaints about her not having a father while all the other kids did - Claire had chosen to pick her battles.

“Emma. Are you coming?” Claire called again, snapping the lunch box shut and slipping it in her daughter’s backpack. She walked out of their tiny kitchen apartment and listened.

Nothing. No giggle from her daughter pretending she was lost. No whine from their dog, Mooch, wanting to go outside.

Panic kicked in and Claire struggled to push it down; the endless burden of being a single parent clawed at her.

She told herself to relax. That little stinker had slipped outside again.

Claire grabbed her jacket, purse and Emma’s backpack and rushed to the front door, despite her attempt at self-comfort. She locked the deadbolt of the apartment, giving the door an extra pull to make sure the wonky lock worked, making yet another mental note to talk to the landlord about it. She hurried down the stairs and shoved open the metal back door.

As soon as she stepped outside, she heard Mooch barking and Emma calling out.

But Emma and Mooch weren’t in the dirt-packed yard of the apartment building and, as Claire glanced at the opening in the fence between the apartment and the neighbor’s house, her heart sunk.

Emma and their dog were in Mrs. Blatchford’s yard. Again.

Trouble was, their dear, elderly neighbor hadn’t lived there for over half a year, choosing to rent the furnished house out.

However, the previous occupants had moved out three weeks ago, much to Emma’s dismay. The family had a little boy close to Emma’s age, and they always played together. Now that he was gone, Emma would slip into the yard and play on the swings and slide on her own, talking to herself as if she had a friend with her. Claire had caught her doing this before, and it broke her heart. Emma should have a sister, like Claire had. Someone growing up alongside her.

But that wasn’t happening soon.

Never, if Claire had her way. She had learned too well the dangers of counting on a man to make family a priority. Andy had taught her that lesson all too well.

Just as she was about to walk around the fence dividing the properties, Emma’s cry rang out. Claire’s mothering instinct kicked in. No time to go the right way. She ducked through the small gap in the decrepit wooden fence, thankful she could make it through, then her eyes skittered over the yard.

Emma stood by the swings she loved, sobbing her little heart out. Claire dropped her purse and the backpack and rushed to her daughter’s side.

And as she did, she noticed a man in the far corner of the yard, hanging on to Mooch’s collar, restraining their over-exuberant lab. The man was tall and lean with brown hair. Easy on the eyes, but his face was creased with lines of irritation. A new renter? For the past few days Claire had wondered who owned the unfamiliar truck which was parked beside the house.

“Honey, what’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself?” Claire dropped to her knees in the long, damp grass. She checked Emma’s face and her neck, looking for bruises or bumps or worse, blood. She seemed okay.

Emma’s sniffed, settling down as Claire pulled her close.

“I’m not hurt. But that man is being mean to Mooch,” she cried.

Claire glanced at “that man”, who struggled to keep his hold on their dog.

“I was inside the house and I saw your dog digging in the flower bed,” he explained, holding onto the collar, answering her unspoken question. He had a deep voice. Resonant. His t-shirt strained over broad shoulders and muscled arms. Claire fought down a flicker of appeal, forcing her mind back to the current situation. “I tried to stop him,” he continued. “That’s when I saw your little girl playing on the swing. She started crying, and the dog was barking.”

His frown deepened as the tone of his voice grew defensive. While Claire was upset her daughter was crying she knew Emma should not have trespassed.

Even though Claire would soon buy the property, if this guy was renting the place, it was technically his property; her daughter was trespassing and so was their dog. His annoyance surprised her, however. Most renters didn’t care much about the yards. Or flower beds. Especially not male renters. Especially not someone who would be moving out when Claire purchased the house.

“Mooch is so sad,” Emma wailed. “That man has to stop choking him.”

Still confused, Claire released Emma and her daughter ran over to Mooch, dropping to her knees and wrapping her arms around the dog’s neck. Mooch whined and pulled, his head bobbing as he struggled to get loose from the man’s grip.

She could see the man was about to let Mooch go.

“Wait,” she called out, running toward them. Mooch was still a pup. A large and exuberant pup who would easily drag Emma across the yard.

Claire reached Mooch and Emma just as the man released his hold on the collar. Claire grabbed for the dog but was tripped up by Emma, who struggled to hang on to Mooch. The dog spun around to lick Claire, pulling her around and sending Emma flying. Claire tried to reach her but the dog knocked her over.

And as they tumbled down in a flurry of legs and arms, Claire fell against their new neighbor.

He caught her by the shoulder, spinning so she landed on top of him. She lay there a moment, stunned. Then, realizing she was lying on top of a stranger, Claire struggled to her feet.

Mooch must have thought they were playing and jumped on top of them and Claire went down again.

Finally the guy got to his knees, taking Claire up with him as she fought to regain her balance. For a moment they kneeled, facing each other.

Up close he was even better looking. Thick lashes framed deep brown eyes shadowed by a frown, his mouth unsmiling but appealing. Stubble shaded his strong jaw and his thick hair was awry. Claire felt a wayward desire to straighten it.

She shook it off, pulled herself free and got to her feet just as he caught Mooch again. Emma stood beside them, her head tilted to one side.

“So, lady, could you please get control of this critter?” he said to Claire, the irritation in his voice justified but still a tad annoying. Technically, it wasn’t her fault.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said, breathless now as she brushed her pants, looking with dismay at the streak of dirt down the front of them and her once-white shirt. She looked back up at him, her cheeks on fire.

“Is Mooch okay?” Emma asked.

Thanks for the concern for your poor mother, Claire thought.

“Mooch is in trouble,” Claire said firmly. She turned back to their neighbor. “I’ll take him now.”

The man blew out a sigh then shoved his hand through his hair, messing it even more. “Just hang onto him. I don’t want him to get away again. He’s done enough damage.” Claire took Mooch, and as their neighbor walked over to the corner of the yard, her heart sunk.

Mrs. Blatchford’s flower bed was now a mound of dug-up dirt, some spread out over the lawn. Bricks from the edging had been torn out and the remains of hollyhocks, lilies and various other plants littered the rest of the bed. Mooch had done a real number on it.

Claire had helped Mrs. Blatchford plant many of those perennials because some day the house, the yard and this flower bed would be Claire’s. She and Mrs. Blatchford had drawn up an Agreement for Sale giving Claire first dibs at buying this house. Then Mrs. Blatchford, in her generosity, had also given Claire six months to pull a down payment together.

All summer Claire had watched from her apartment window which overlooked part of the yard, as the flowers bloomed, creating an ongoing display of color and beauty that Claire enjoyed from afar, knowing that soon she could look out of the kitchen window of the house and see it up close.

It had taken her the full six months to save most the money she needed for the down payment. The last few thousand would come when her cousin paid her for her deceased husband’s irresponsible choice of a sport’s car.

“I’m sorry about what Mooch did,” Claire said to the man who still looked annoyed.

She didn’t blame him. She was annoyed, too. One more thing for her to fix up once she bought the house.

He nodded, then frowned as he held her gaze. “You look familiar. Didn’t your parents own the hardware store in town?”

“Still do,” Claire said, puzzled as she struggled to remember him.

“Sorry. I used to live here,” he said, pointing to the house. “I’m Nik. Nik Austen.”

His name sounded familiar but as she tried to place him, something else he’d said registered.

“Used to live here? In this house?”

“For a few years.”

Claire scoured her memory and a hazy picture emerged of a tall, gangly boy with unkempt hair and a ripped shirt walking up the sidewalk of the house.

The house Claire, Tess and her parents used to live in. The house that held Claire’s fondest memories. The house she hated leaving behind when their family moved to a larger, more modern home on an acreage just out of town.

After her family moved, Claire would bike down her old street from time to time, taking the long way home from school, just to make sure the new owners were taking care of the house she so yearned to return to.

The new house was all angles and glass and metal and, even worse, often echoed with the angry voices of parents arguing over a purchase, she realized later, they couldn’t afford. This house, with its dormers and bay windows and porches front and back, had been more of a home to her than the new one.

“That’s right. But you never went to school here, did you?”

“I was home-schooled by my foster parents,” he said, his voice taking on a cold, hard tone.

His comment reminded her of the wild stories the boys at school made up about him because they seldom saw the kid living in Claire’s old house. They said he was crazy. Maybe even a murderer. That’s why he never came to school. Whenever anyone did see him, he looked untidy and angry.

Then, after a couple of years, the family sold the house to Mrs. Blatchford and moved away. Nik and his odd family faded from everyone’s memory.

“And now you’re back?” Claire asked.

“Yeah. For a while. I guess if I'll be your new neighbor I should introduce myself,” Nik said, his mouth curving into a half-grin that belied the previous tone of his voice. His smile enhanced the shape of his mouth and created an appealing fan of wrinkles around his incredible brown eyes.

Claire shook off her reaction, realizing she hadn’t returned his courtesy. So she took his hand, hers engulfed by his. “Sorry. I’m Claire. Claire Donnel — sorry — Kruger.” Though she’d been on her own for five years, her married name still slipped out at times.

“Good to meet you,” he said. “So you and your husband live next door in the apartment?”

“My daughter and I do. My husband passed away a year ago.”

“I’m so sorry,” Nik said.

“Don’t be. You didn’t know.” Claire waved off his apology, stifling a flare of shame at her evasive answers. It had been difficult returning to Sweet Creek as a single mother, abandoned by the man who felt he ‘had’ to marry her when they found out she was expecting Emma. Claire thought she was in love, so she had agreed. But as soon as Emma was born, Andy couldn’t deal with it all and left. Now that her ex-husband was dead she felt she could pass herself off as a widow.

“So you’re only here for a couple of weeks?” she asked, feeling the need to be at least a little neighborly even as Mooch tugged on his collar and Emma lingered, swinging her purse around.

In ten days, Claire would sign the final Purchase Agreement on the house and take it over. She was surprised that Devon Grey, Mrs. Blatchford’s son, agreed to such a short-term rental.

“I’m here to connect with my mother and sister. See how it goes."

Another memory solidified.

“Nik Austen. You’re Cory’s brother. Joyce’s son.” Cory, her friend and part-time helper at Coffee Creek Cafe, had been over the moon excited when her fiancé, Matthew, had found Nik. All her life Cory had lived in the hope that the brother her mother gave up for adoption would come back into her life.

And now, here he was.

“Have you seen Cory yet?” she asked. “I know she was gone for the weekend.”

“We’re meeting tonight.” He sounded evasive and Claire understood that finally seeing his biological mother would be difficult for both him and his mother.

“We should go, Mommy,” Emma said.

“Of course.” She had lingered long enough. “I hope you enjoy your stay in Sweet Creek and again, I’m sorry about what Mooch did to the flower beds.”

Nik shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ll get Devon to knock some off the selling price for the damage.”

Claire almost gave him a polite smile and turned to leave but what he’d said caught her attention.

“Knock some off the selling price? What do you mean?” Claire’s breath slipped out of her and her thoughts were a jumble of questions.

“I’m buying the place. It’s not a done deal yet, but we’re working out some kinks. Apparently there’s an Agreement for Sale in place right now but the conditions on it will run out in a week and Devon Grey doesn’t think the buyer can meet them.”

Claire’s heart thudded. Her head spun. She was the buyer Devon didn’t think could meet the conditions. She was the one who needed to meet them in a week.

“You might buy the house?” she asked, surprised at how even her tone was.

“Not buying the house. More like buying the property. It’s a great location and a huge piece of real-estate. The house is junk though. I’ll tear it down and build a fourplex if I can get the town to zone for that.”

“Tear it down?” Again, she sounded like an idiot as she processed what he said. She had to leave but she couldn’t let go of their conversation.

“Yeah. That’s what I do. Either fix up a house and flip it or do an infill. Been doing it for years.” He spoke to her like she was a rather slow child. “But this house isn’t worth fixing, so I’ll do an infill. Then I'll take the money and head out again.”

Panic clawed its way up Claire’s chest at his casual dismissal and assumption that his plans would go ahead.

She had to contact Devon Grey. Immediately.

“Mommy, I should go to school,” Emma put in, practicality taking priority over Claire’s confusion.

Claire shook off the dread clenching her stomach, pulling herself back to the task at hand. “Can you get your backpack and Mommy’s purse and bring them to the car?” she asked Emma, jerking her chin toward the bags lying on the grass by the swing set.

“I can,” Emma called out as she skipped off.

Claire turned back to Nik trying to tamp down her fear, her heart pounding. “I gotta go. See you around.” She spun around, sucking in one breath after another as she walked back to the fence.

She felt as if she had been hit in the stomach.

Devon had another buyer for the house. A buyer who wanted to tear it down. Why didn't he tell her?

Don’t panic. Don’t panic, she reminded herself as she slipped through the hole in the fence, her thoughts a painful jumble. A few phone calls would straighten this out.

“Mooch wasn’t a very good dog, was he?” Emma asked when they were on the other side of the fence. “I hope he’s good for Gramma when we bring him there.”

Claire closed her eyes a moment to center her spinning thoughts, turning to the next thing she had to deal with.

“He'll be fine.” She didn’t really care if Mooch behaved.

Her mother was the one who gave the dog to Emma for her birthday this spring against Claire’s express wishes. However, Mooch couldn’t stay in the apartment while Emma was in school and Claire was at work, so Mooch got to stay with Claire’s mother during the day.

“Are you okay, Mommy?” Emma asked as Claire took her purse from her daughter, rummaging through it for her car keys. “You look mad.”

“I’m fine,” Claire said, her tone short as she struggled with her wavering emotions.

“Am I in trouble for going on Mrs. Blatchford’s yard?” Emma's voice quavered.

Claire pushed her frustration aside and gave Emma a tight hug. “No, honey, you’re not. It was a mistake, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry Mooch made a mess of the flowers.”

“I am, too,” Claire agreed, stroking Emma’s fine hair away from her face and dropping a gentle kiss on her forehead. “But it’s done and maybe we’ll have to help Mr. Nik fix it up.”

“He probably doesn’t know about the lilies,” Emma agreed as Claire opened the door of the car. Mooch jumped in and settled on the blanket on the seat and Emma climbed into her booster seat.

“He probably doesn’t,” Claire agreed, waiting to make sure Emma was buckled in before closing the door.

Before she got into the car, she shot a quick glance back at the house. To her consternation, she saw Nik standing on the back deck of the house, watching her.

Right at that moment, the memory of lying on top of him in his yard flashed back. She shook off her humiliation and walked around the car, got in and drove away.

Thankfully Tess had offered to come in that morning and do the baking to give Claire a welcome break but she was now behind her schedule. Instead of bringing Emma to her mother’s she would have to bring her directly to school herself, then drop Mooch off.

She walked her daughter through the doors right as the bell rang for class. Claire had hoped to talk to the teacher to see how Emma was doing. Since she’d started Grade One, Emma had complained about a sore stomach and headaches. Vague symptoms even their family doctor had a tough time diagnosing.

But she had no time today.

As she hurried back to her car she dug in her purse for her cell phone to explain to her mother the change in plans.

But her phone wasn’t there.

She frowned and scrabbled in her purse more, then checked the car. She remembered putting the phone in her purse before she made Emma’s lunch.

Then she realized where it was.

Lying in the yard where she dropped her purse when she ran to help her daughter.

The yard she had hoped would be hers one day.

The yard that Nik Austen, Cory’s brother, might end up owning.

* * *

So, that wasn’t the best first impression, Nik thought as he raked up the dirt that ridiculous dog had spread all over the grass.

He could only imagine what was going through the mother’s mind. Claire’s he corrected, allowing himself a moment of appreciation for the lovely woman.

Who had landed on top of him.

She smelled like almonds and honey and her hair was silky soft.

And stop there, he told himself, dismissing his wayward thoughts, raking harder. Though his plans had changed the past month, they still didn’t include a woman. Especially not one with a child.

For now, he had to take care of this flower bed.

Normally, plants weren’t high on his radar. For the past ten years he had never lived in a house long enough to concern himself with the landscaping. That was done after he’d either done the renos on the purchase or torn it down and infilled. And then sold again.

But he’d been feeling melancholy the past couple of days. Two months ago, Rebecca Huizinga, the elderly woman whose home had been a haven to him after the dark chaos of living with the Baley foster family, had passed away.

And he missed her.

She always had such beautiful flower gardens and encouraged Nik to help her take care of them. Rebecca would have been impressed by this one. Though fall was approaching, and some of the plants were brown or dead, he recognized many of them. At least the ones that still stood — no thanks to that undisciplined dog.

Which made him think of the little girl.

When he saw her playing on the swing, his heart clenched. Emma was the same age his baby would have been.

The baby his ex-girlfriend had swept out of her womb and their life without a second thought. And without telling him.

He had never understood how Theresa didn’t think he should have any say in the matter. In fact, he had found out after the fact. He would gladly have taken care of their baby, even if Theresa didn’t want to. He knew what it was like to be abandoned.

His own mother had given him up for adoption when he was four years old.

The same mother who now lived here in Sweet Creek and who had, through a lawyer, reached out to Nik to connect with him.

Nik finished raking the dirt, glancing at his watch just as his cell phone rang.

He checked the screen. His buddy, Chance.

“So what bad news do you have for me now?” Nik asked, walking back to the porch to sit in the shade. Though fall was coming the sun still had a lot of strength.

“Hey, that’s no way to talk to your oldest friend.”

“Some friend. Ducking out a trip we’ve planned for months. We were supposed to be diving in Cozumel right now.”

“I had asked for that time off. I was told it was a done deal. Not my fault my father-in-law said he made a scheduling mistake and told me I couldn’t leave.” Chance sighed.

“You need to work somewhere else,” Nik said. “That’s not the first time he’s gouged you like that.”

“I’d work with you if you weren’t such a flake,” Chance returned. “Or if you’d be willing to stick around in one place longer than six months.”

Nik ignored the jab. While Nik had always found regular work as a carpenter/contractor every place he worked, he never found a place where he’d wanted to stay and put down roots. Nor did he have any desire to. Easier to be the one to leave than to be the one left behind.

“So, where are you now?” Chance asked.

“Sweet Creek.”

“Where is Sweet Creek?”

As Nik tried to find the best way to answer, his knee jittered. He stopped himself, angry at the nervous gesture he’d developed when he turned eight. When, for the second time in his short life, his world had fallen apart.

“Apparently, it’s where my biological mother lives.”

Nik had never any desire to look for his biological mother. He was four when she dropped him off at Social Services, gave him a hug and warned him to be a good boy. Waiting for him were Audry and Karl Jensen. A couple who hoped that adopting him would ease their unhappiness. However, taking in Nik only increased the tension between them and it burst out into the open when Nik was eight. They divorced, and Nik was tossed into the foster system.

It took three homes before, at the age of nine, he ended up at the Baleys' place. They moved to this town, Sweet Creek. Into the house behind him.

And thus began one of the darkest periods of Nik’s life. Abuse, neglect, nights spent banished to the basement, being yelled at, hit — all this became his new normal. Until he got moved at age twelve to Rebecca Huizinga’s house. He lived with her until he turned eighteen.

But he never forgot his birth mother. Never forgot that day when his life became a dark, lonely place for so long.

He never forgave her, either.

“Sweet Creek is in the Kootenay mountains.” Nik stood and walked away from the house, turning so he could see the mountains that rose above the valley where the town nestled. Mountains he used to stare at from his window when he was banished to his room. Mountains he’d dreamed of climbing up and over to get away from there.

And now he was back.

“So you found her?”

“Actually, she found me. Now, after all these years she wants to connect.”

“And she lives in Sweet Creek?”

“Her and a sister whom I never knew I had.”

Chance exhaled, his confusion easy to read even over the phone. “A sister. You have a sister.”

“Shades of Luke Skywalker, right?”

“Is the force strong with her?”

“Haven’t met her yet. Or my mother. Cory was out of town when I got here. I called my… called Joyce when I came here but she was rather flabbergasted. Told me she wasn’t feeling well, and could I come another time. That was Saturday, shortly after I got here. She gave me Cory, my sister’s number, then hung up. Cory’s next on my people-to-call list.” Her and the real estate agent who he was dealing with on this property.

“It might have been a good idea to let them know you were coming,” Chance said. “She might not have been as much with the flabbergasted.”

“I suppose. But still, Joyce was the one who reached out to me. I thought she was ready to see me.”

“Seriously, dude, you need to do better prep work. You can’t just jump into someone’s life and expect them to switch gears that fast. It’s been a lot of years, you know.”

“I know. I guess I should have called,” Nik conceded, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand, the pangs of a headache forming. “Didn’t think that would make much difference.”

“So are you sticking around there? Spending time with her?”

“Well, now that I’m not going on this long-planned trip with my best buddy, Chance, I've got all this free time—“

“Stop hassling me about that. I’ve apologized enough about it. I lost out on an amazing trip of a lifetime, too, you know.” Chance was quiet a moment. “So, what you gonna do there? In Sweet Creek?”

“I have a project.”

“Of course you do. Tell me about it.”

“I talked to a real estate agent to see if there were any short-term rentals. I chatted with this Alan Andrews guy. He told me about this place. How it’s for sale.” Nik paused, surprised at the rush of anger and fear this house could still create. At first, he didn’t want to have anything to do with it. Asked Alan to find him something else, but then he drove there and parked in front of the house, looking at — annoyed at — the hold the Baley family and that house still had on him.

When he saw the condition of the house and the size of the yard, he made potential plans.

“Don’t tell me. You bought it.”

“It was a steal. Sweet Creek is becoming a premier resort town. It’s close to an awesome ski hill and some great fishing and swimming lakes. Lots of hiking and mountain biking trails. I gave the owner a low-ball offer, and he said he would take it. It’s not a done deal, though. There’s someone else who has an Agreement for Sale but the owner doesn’t think they can meet the conditions. I’ll know on Monday. Less than a week away.”

“And there’s no way you’d fix it up? Stay there? You’ve got two good reasons to put down roots.”

“Not a hope.” His answer burst out of him, harsher than he’d meant it to be.

When Nik first entered the house, he was annoyed at how all the old fears and fury returned. The helplessness, the deep, choking anger.

Though it was furnished with leftovers from the previous owner, Nik had slept on the couch in the living room. There was no way he was going anywhere near the rooms upstairs. The room where he would spend hours locked inside after he was bad. The room where he suffered too many blows from a drunk foster father. Too many angry tirades from a foster mother who often said she regretted taking him in.

He found out later that the only reason they took him in was for the money.

Chance sighed his disappointment. “I guess I keep hoping that one of these days you’ll find-“

“My forever home?” Nik returned with a sardonic tone.

Chance had been married once and though his wife passed away he often talked about finding someone someday. He encouraged Nik to do the same. Settle down. Make a home.

Nik’s thoughts slipped to the little girl he saw a few moments ago, and he felt another unwelcome stab of sorrow. And another reminder of why it was best to stay single. Pain, loss and disappointment were part of every relationship he’d ever had.

“Anyhow, I’m here now and if everything goes through I’ve got work for the next few months. Months I was supposed to be holidaying with my friend.”

“You can still do it.”

“By myself.”

“Will you fix it and flip it?”

“Nope. I’ll do a tear down. I can put two houses on this lot or a fourplex, it’s that big.”

The thought of taking the house down gave him a peculiar satisfaction. It could be symbolic. A breaking down of the old. A way of eradicating memories that still haunted him.

He could give this property a fresh start. Better memories.

“How long will it take?”

“Nine months if I can get the sub-trades lined up.”

This way he could give his mother and his sister an opportunity to get to know each other. And he could be on his way, free from all the entanglements of his lonely, empty past.

“So what if you and your mother don’t hit it off?” Chance asked.

The same sinister thought had occurred to Nik. “If not, it will give me a good chance to get to know my sister at least.”

“Is she your full sister or half?”

“I don’t know. Other than my mother, she’s the closest thing I have to a relative. I’d like to get to know her better. And, this property was too good a chance to pass up.”

“Too bad I can’t help you out with the work.”

He and Chance had done a few house flips and renovations together in their heyday. Before Chance got married to Donna and started working at his father-in-law’s business.

“Like I said, you could quit your job.” Nik leaned back against the step, looking out over the yard and the mess in the corner, still annoyed with that silly dog.

“I could.”

“You should. Your boss was the one who ix-nayed the dive drip.”

“I know. I guess I like security.”

A gentle dig at the lack of stability in Nik’s life and future plans.

“Anyway, I’ve got enough going here to keep me busy awhile,” Nik said. “If this deal goes through.”

“So how will you manage all this? A tear down and rebuild?”

“I’ll move my trailer on the yard. You should see this place. The yard is so big I could start an RV park and still have space. Besides, if I’m on site, I can keep a better eye on the sub-trades.”

“I can’t believe you like living in that thing. Cramped and temporary—“

“And cheap.” Nik got up and walked over to the now-destroyed flower bed. It hadn’t been there when he’d lived in the house. And he wanted to make sure it stayed because it reminded him of his now-gone foster mother.

“Someday you need to settle down, mister. Find a place and make a home for yourself.”

And share it with who?

“I should go,” Nik said, his tone abrupt. “And if you need a job.”

“Only if you’re looking at settling down.”

Nik knew enough to leave that alone. “Anyway, take care.”

This was usually Chance’s moment to tell Nik he was praying for him. Something Nik’s foster mother always said, but this time around, Chance just said goodbye and ended the call.

Nik held his phone, frowning at it, wishing his friend would lay off the hints about settling down.

He dropped his phone in his pocket, grabbed the shovel and finished fixing up the dirt in the flower bed. When he was done he straightened, noticing the gap in the fence. That would be the next thing he would fix. Last thing he needed was the dog and that little girl sneaking into the yard again.

He was about to head to the house when he caught the glint of something in the grass by the play center. Curious, he walked over to check.

It was a phone. As he picked it up he saw the pictures on the case. They were of the little girl that had just been in the yard. He guessed the phone belonged to Claire. He held it a moment, wondering what to do. Then it quacked like a duck and a text message flashed on the screen.

Hey sis, are you playing hooky today or are you coming? Coffee Creek is crazy right now. Get your adorable self here quick. Cory is helping but I have to duck out.

His heart did a small jolt when he saw Cory’s name.

The same name as his sister’s. And he guessed, in a town the size of Sweet Creek, there weren’t an abundance of girls named Cory.

* * *

Nik angle-parked his truck on Main Street, taking the first empty spot. He wasn’t sure where Coffee Creek was located but it was a nice day for a walk and he didn’t think it would take long to find the cafe in the small town.

Grabbing the keys, he jumped out of the truck then paused, struggling with second thoughts. He thought of what Chance had said. He hadn't told Cory he was coming. But he pushed them aside. He had to deliver Claire’s phone anyway.

Before he could change his mind, he strode down the sidewalk, past other town residents who didn’t seem to be in any rush. Large concrete planters full of flowers that still bloomed bright pink, blue and yellow were interspersed along the street and more prominently on the corners at the intersection. The streetlights were older, Victorian style, which blended well with the inlaid, brick sidewalks and brick buildings lining the street. Multicolored flowers spilled out of large pots suspended from the streetlights.

Sweet Creek looked better than it had when he and the Baley family lived here.

Which meant he should have no trouble selling the houses he hoped to build.

He passed the hardware store, a couple of women’s clothing shops, Allen Andrew’s real estate office, a bookstore, a store that sold bikes, a bakery, a pharmacy and a variety of other stores, all busy. No boarded-up windows, and there were lots of people on the street coming in and out of the businesses. Some he recalled from his time in Sweet Creek, but other than the hardware store, the pharmacy and the Stop ’n Shop at the end of Main street, he didn’t recognize the rest.

Just ahead of him a couple of metal chairs and tables huddled under a yellow and white-striped awning and as he came nearer, Nik saw the name, Coffee Creek, etched in silver on the double doors.

His sister was inside that building.

His palms were damp and his knee jittered once again. Angry with his reaction, he stepped forward and pushed open one of the doors. A jingle of bells announced his arrival.

First, he noticed the long counter running along the far end with glass cases full of sandwiches, wraps and pastries. On the wall above the counter was a large chalkboard with the prices and offerings written out in fancy lettering. A few flourishes decorated the corners. Clearly a woman’s touch.

Wooden tables with mis-matched chairs filled the space. Other than an older couple at one table, drinking coffee, the place was cozy but empty.

However, it was the woman behind the counter who caught his full attention.

Claire handed a man a paper cup of coffee, smiling at something he said. Her brown hair was held back with a bandana which emphasized the arch of her eyebrows and the exotic tilt of her eyes.

And just as he was about to approach the counter to hand over her phone, she looked his way. As her eyes found and held his, he remembered the scent of her hair, the weight of her on him. And an unwanted jolt of attraction ran through him.

But her smile slipped and then became forced.

“So, we meet again,” she said, her voice holding a faint edge. He guessed she was still angry with him over how he’d made her daughter cry. And how he’d treated that silly dog of hers.

He got to the point and handed her the cell phone. “I found this in the yard. I figured you might want it back.”

Her mouth shifted from a smile to a frown, as she reached for it. “I’m sorry. I realized I had lost it when I got here. Thanks for returning it.”

She flashed him another tight smile, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. “Can I give you a coffee? On the house? As a way of thanking you for bringing me my phone?”

Nik glanced up at the board, scanning the offerings then gave her an apologetic look. “Sure, I’ll have a coffee, but I can pay.”

Claire shook her head. “Not a chance. You brought me my phone.”

“It wasn’t a big deal.”

“No arguments,” Claire said.

“I’d listen to her,” a voice cut in. “She’s one ornery lady.”

Nik turned to the woman who had joined them. She was tall, slim, and her wavy hair was held back in a loose ponytail.

His heart thudded as their eyes met.

The same dark eyes as his looked back at him, the same unevenly arched eyebrows. The same hint of a dimple in one cheek.

And the same stubborn cowlick on her forehead as the one he struggled with.

This had to be his sister.

She stared at him just as he must have been staring at her.

He saw her swallow, her hand coming up to her mouth.

“Hey, Cory,” Nik said, breaking the awkward silence.

“Nik,” was all she could say.

They stood there a moment, the counter a barrier between them.

“Cory, why don’t you go have coffee with your brother,” Claire said, her voice quiet. “It’s quiet here now. I can manage.”

Cory blinked, still staring at Nik. Then she broke her gaze and glanced over at Claire. “I… uh… I guess.”

Nik felt a tremor of unease. He wasn’t sure he was ready for this.

But isn’t that why you are staying here? To see your sister and mother?

Cory glanced once more at Claire who looked at her with sympathy. As if she understood how awkward the moment was. Cory turned around and walked to the back of the coffee shop, disappearing behind a door.

“She’s just going to change,” Claire offered.

Their eyes met and once again Nik felt the unwelcome attraction. Then, Claire blinked and looked past him to someone standing behind him.

“What can I get you, Mark?” she asked.

“Sheryl wants a steeped tea and I’ll have a chai latte. They’re both to go.”

Nik realized he was impeding her customers, so he stepped aside. Mark, a tall, rangy looking man wearing a plaid shirt, blue jeans and cowboy boots, gave him a cordial grin then pulled his wallet out of his faded pants. He looked like a cowboy.

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” Claire asked.

Mark shook his head as he handed Claire some cash, waving off the change she held out. “We’re on our way to the pediatric specialist.”

“I hope it goes well,” Claire said, tucking the change back in her cash register. “I’ll be praying for you and Sheryl and your baby boy.”

“That means a lot.” Mark took his drinks and as he turned, he met Nik’s eyes. Mark gave him a brief smile then hurried out.

Claire’s comment made him think of his foster mother. She was always praying, too. Always trying to get Nik to do the same. Oh, he went through the motions, but only to please her. He wasn’t big on all that faith stuff. Didn’t help him in the past. He doubted it would help him now.

Then a movement beside him caught his attention - his sister was back.

His sister. The thought still jarred.

“Do you mind if we have coffee here?” she asked, her voice soft, her eyes now averted from him.

"Not at all."

“We can sit over here,” she said, walking around a corner to a secluded table for four, hidden from the rest of the coffee shop. "Few people like this table because it’s too private. Most everyone who comes here wants to chat and be a part of the ambience. I don’t always work here but I’m helping Claire out for today. Her sister is gone. Wedding plans.” She stopped, looking apologetic. “Sorry. Babbling. I’m kind of nervous,” she said.

“I’m not going to lie, I’m feeling the same,” Nik admitted, appreciating her honesty.

He wanted to say more but Claire was beside them holding a tray. “Your usual,” she said, setting a foamy latte in front of Cory. “And coffee for you,” she said to Nik. “Unless, of course, you prefer a latte? Sorry I never asked.”

“Coffee is just fine,” he said.

She set his cup and a plate of squares and cookies on the table.

“Thanks, Claire,” Cory said, flashing a genuine smile this time.

“And it’s on the house, so you two don’t need to fight over who’s paying.”

Nik glanced up at Claire to thank her, catching her gaze. And once again, that distressing attraction returned. He blinked then looked away, dismissing the distraction. He wasn’t allowing himself to get involved with another woman.

“So. Here you are.” Cory cradled her mug with her hands, hunching her shoulders in a defensive gesture as she gave him a delicate smile. “All these years.”

Nik wasn’t sure what to say to that so he nodded, taking a sip of his coffee, his stomach tightening.

“So tell me, how did you find us?” she asked.

“Some lawyer named Matthew McKnight was calling my lawyer. Then this Mathew guy got a hold of me. That’s how I found out where you lived.”

Cory gave him an enigmatic smile. “That Matthew guy is my fiancé.”

“You’re engaged?”

“Yes.” Her smiled turned shy as she looked down at her hand. That’s when he noticed the diamond on her finger. So now he not only had a sister, he had a future brother-in-law.

If he wanted to lay claim to that.

“Well, that’s interesting,” he said, feeling as if he were losing control of the situation.

“It’s exciting.” She took a sip of her latte, looking across the table at him. “And now you’re here.”

“I called your mother for a visit when I arrived but she said she wasn’t feeling well. You were gone.”

Cory’s eyes grew wide, and she lowered her mug with a thunk on the table. “She didn’t want to see you?”

“She said she was sick and that I should come another time. My buddy told me I should have phoned ahead and looking back, I guess that would have been a better idea.”

“She said nothing to me." Cory frowned then gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I should tell you that Mom isn’t that well. She’s been struggling with fibromyalgia the past number of years, though it was getting better once we discovered that Matthew had found you.”

“So why was she avoiding me?”

Cory bit one corner of her lip as if seeking the right words. “We didn’t know you were coming. Matthew had been trying for months to connect with you. We just heard that it might be a possibility, but then, nothing more.”

“I was on a trip and out of phone contact. I had some stuff to deal with and I just needed to get away.” His beloved foster mother, Rebecca had passed away and he needed some space.

For a moment he was tempted to tell her about his life but part of him held back the information. He wasn’t ready yet. He hadn’t been there for her when it happened. She was alone in the house Nik had fixed up for her. After all, she’d done for him, she should not have died alone. He should have been there.

Rebecca was the best mother he’d had and now, all he had left was his biological mother and a sister he didn't know who lived in the same town he had.

“Have you lived long in Sweet Creek?” he continued, wondering if the Baleys knew his mother was here. Was that the reason they kept him hidden in the house? Were they afraid they might lose their meal ticket? “You been here all your life?” He couldn’t bear to think his natural mother had lived here all along and he had never known.

But Cory shook her head. “No. We moved here for the first time over a year ago. Before that we were… well… were moved all over the place.”

Nik sensed a story hung between the hesitations and the vague words, yet relief sluiced through him. It was sheer coincidence Cory and her mother ended up in Sweet Creek.

“Do you need any refills?” Claire’s voice broke into his thoughts and he jumped.

“I’m good,” he said looking up at her. But her eyes were on Cory, her expression concerned.

“Are you okay?” Claire asked, laying a gentle hand on Cory’s shoulder, then lightly rubbing her back.

“Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just… my brother is… finally here.” Cory’s voice broke and he could see the shimmer of tears. “I’ve thought about you for so many years,” she said turning to him as she swiped at her eyes.

“So you always knew about me?” Nik was surprised.

“From the beginning.” Her voice held a note of melancholy. “When things got tough, I used to dream you’d come swooping into my life to rescue me.”

Things were tough for her?

He wanted to know more, but now was not the time. He had too many things to absorb and think about it.

“Cory and her friend Kelsey had dreams of heroes,” Claire said with a chuckle. “I think, at one time, you were hers until Matthew came along.”

Matthew. Her fiancé and the lawyer who had contacted him.

“Well, I’ve never been anyone’s hero,” he said with a smile.

Claire's bemused look created an unwelcome warmth.

“So, would you be okay with meeting Mom tonight?” Cory asked.

“I guess the question is, would she be okay with meeting me?” Nik replied, dragging his attention back to his sister.

“I’m sure she would. She just needed time to prepare herself.”

“Okay. Then I’ll see you tonight,” Nik said.

Cory nodded and glanced up at Claire. “I’ll be a minute or two yet.”

“Don’t rush. I know you’ve waited for this moment with Nik for a long time.” Claire glanced over at Nik again. “I guess you’ll be around for a while now.”

The edge in her voice seemed at odds with her smile. He thought again of her reaction when he told her about his deal on the house.

She didn’t seem happy about it. At all.

Well, she only had to put up with him for a few months. Then he would be gone.