Ethan was still mulling over the fact that Lily and he had managed to eat an entire dinner together and keep the conversation in neutral territory as he sat in the Greendale diner the next day. He’d gotten the impression she was holding something back, like she was on the verge of opening up about something but kept deciding not to. Just as well she didn’t, that might have brought them closer and that was definitely something Ethan did not need.

Nevertheless, she’d been good company and he’d enjoyed himself. Maybe a little too much. If he were smart, he’d steer clear of his pretty neighbor for the rest of the week. He had no intention of “putting himself out there” any more than he already had. He knew all too well what happened once he got too close. Best to keep his distance.

As much as Ethan appreciated Ruby’s cookies, they couldn’t compare to a good piece of pie. Slicing off the tip with his fork, he popped the bite into his mouth and savored the tart taste of apples and spice of cinnamon. Heaven. Swallowing, he took a sip of his coffee and let his gaze meander around the Diner.

It had a ’50s vibe with the black and white checkered linoleum floor, bright red booths, and out-of-order juke box in the corner. When he’d first stepped into the diner a week ago, he wouldn’t have been surprised for a bubble-gum chewing waitress with bold makeup to come out to serve him wearing roller skates. Instead, the majority of waitresses seemed to be bored high school students or the tired, middle-aged woman who had served him today.

She’d made only a cursory effort to ask about his week, which was more than she’d made last week. It seemed that, after a week of coming here periodically for a meal or piece of pie, the locals who frequented the diner were slowly warming up to him. He’d gotten a nod from the old man on the farthest stool from the door as he’d walked in.

The bell on the door jingled. In a good mood, with a mouthful of pie when the new arrival entered, Ethan raised a hand in welcome. It was one of the few men in town he could actually put a name to.

Jake Lincoln was the town sheriff, a friendly man about Ethan’s age who always had a smile and kind word for everyone. As he’d put it to Ethan when he’d first arrived in town, it was Jake’s business to know who was in town for any length of time and who was passing through. He needed to know the troublemakers. Although young to be in the position of sheriff, Jake had devoted several years to the Rangers, as had Ethan. He could appreciate a man who served his country. Whereas Ethan had come home for good with an idea and little purpose, Jake was only one in a long line of Sheriff Lincolns over the years. It seemed to be a family tradition.

After he shook hands and had a quiet word with a few of the other diner customers, Jake made his way over to the table. The middle-aged waitress, Cathy, bustled over with a fresh cup and a pot of coffee to pour. She topped off Ethan’s cup while at the table. He nodded in thanks.

“There you are, sheriff. Can I get you anything else? A burger? Piece of pie?”

Jake nodded at the table. “I’ll have what he’s having. Ethan has good taste.”

With a smile, Ethan shoveled another bite of pie into his mouth as the waitress nodded and bustled away to the glass display containing pie pieces. After swallowing, Ethan asked, “How’s work?”

Jake shrugged. “Same as can be expected.” There was little in his dark eyes to hint at the shadows he no doubt lived with, having served in hostile places. Ethan didn’t have to wonder whether the other man woke up in a cold sweat some nights from nightmares. He knew—it was part of the job. Although he wasn’t scarred on his face, hands, or anywhere his short-cut black hair displayed, Ethan would be willing to guess that Jake had amassed more than one scar, like he had. He didn’t know the man well, but he’d also heard whispers of a tragedy regarding Jake’s wife. At least that was one heartbreak Ethan would likely never have to worry about.

Ever since he’d left the Rangers, Ethan hadn’t had much contact with his comrades in arms. Sitting here with Jake felt almost like kinship again, for while in the Rangers they learned to entrust their lives to one another. Now…

Neither of them were Rangers anymore. This wasn’t a battlefield. It was life, and Jake knew no more of the size of Ethan’s wallet than did anyone else in this town. He couldn’t trust anyone with that information.

Jake eyed the half-eaten pie with bald envy as he asked, “How are you liking Pinecrest?”

Ethan took a sip of coffee and shrugged. “New neighbor.”

“Yeah?” Jake raised his eyebrows. As Cathy returned with his pie, he shot her a smile before turning back to Ethan. “Ruby has another camper?”

Ethan nodded. “A woman named Lily. She has this little dog that’s more fur than anything else.”

“Good for her. Maybe I’d better make a trip up to the campground to welcome this new arrival.”

“I don’t think she’s staying long. A couple days, maybe a week.”

Jake shrugged. “Can’t hurt to be friendly. I’m glad to hear she has another camper.”

“She doesn’t usually get many?”

Jake hesitated. He ate a piece of pie, chewing carefully before he answered. “Peak season isn’t so bad, but she’s had to rent out a smaller number of cabins this year.”

Ethan hesitated before he mentioned, “I saw a few notices on her fridge. Violations.”

The sheriff made a face. After he checked the other patrons to make sure none were eavesdropping he leaned closer. “Officially, I can’t tell you this because I’m here to uphold the law and back the Town Council, but I wouldn’t worry about those. That’s just Pittman looking for trouble.”

Ethan frowned. “Pittman?”

“Yeah. Carter Pittman. He owns the land to the northeast of Pinecrest and he’s been trying to buy the campground from her for pennies. Ruby wouldn’t sell if you offered her millions, she’s too attached to that campground. But she’s almost eighty and can’t be climbing on top of ladders to patch up the roofs anymore. There are a dozen or more small violations that Pittman keeps bringing up with the Council. Nothing serious or that might cause harm.”

Could this Carter Pittman have escalated from tattling over minor violations to sabotaging the campground, all so he could buy it out from under Ruby? Ethan opened his mouth, about to mention the plumbing he’d found cut, but he filled his lips with pie instead.

He didn’t know for sure this Pittman had done anything. And in a town this close-knit, a guy like Jake would believe the long-term resident over the new arrival. All Ethan could do was keep his eyes peeled and stop Pittman—or whoever was enacting the sabotage—from doing any more damage.

* * *

The moment Ethan struck out for his walk that afternoon, he regretted keeping his mouth shut. There, clear as day, in the soft earth off the path, were a large pair of men’s boot prints.

Only Ethan hadn’t walked there. Someone, perhaps even Carter Pittman, had been lurking on Ruby’s land. For what reason — were they out to sabotage something else? Suspicion stinging his stomach, Ethan crouched to examine the boot prints. Were they old or new? He couldn’t properly tell, given that there hadn’t been any rain in the area for the past week, but no other tracks marred the ones on the ground. If no animal had crossed here, an unlikely scenario for a long stretch of time, then these had to have been fresh. Perhaps even today, as he had been in town for pie.

Putting the tracking skills he had learned in the Rangers to good use, Ethan followed the footprints and other signs of passage. A broken twig, the scuff of the mulch underfoot. The farther north he marched, the more certain he was that the trespasser was Ruby’s neighbor.

Less than ten minutes out, instead of stumbling across the watcher, Ethan encountered another unexpected woodland visitor. Wookie yipped and ran up to him, gleeful. Lily’s voice followed.

“Wookie, where are you? Don’t you abandon me too, we’ll never get back…”

Branches cracked as Lily stomped through the forest, not bothering to hide herself. She probably thought she was alone. She sounded on the verge of tears. Ethan gave Wookie a cursory pat and called, “We’re over here. Wookie is fine.”

“Ethan?” The crackling stopped. After a moment’s hesitation, Lily continued walking. She broke through the trees just ahead of him, her bright yellow t-shirt a beacon in the dappled shadows of the trees. When she spotted him, she stopped in her tracks.

Wookie trotted over to her, tail wagging, as if to say, look what I found!

“What are you doing here?” Lily blurted.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking as he rolled his shoulders. “I’m out for a walk, just like you.” He pointed to the light backpack hanging from his shoulders. He didn’t plan to be out in the woods for long, so he hadn’t brought the pack he’d designed, containing everything he’d need in order to sleep in the woods overnight or for multiple nights. All he needed was a few emergency supplies, a water bottle, and a couple of energy bars in case the pie didn’t hold him over.

She glanced over her shoulder, chewing on her lower lip as she stepped from foot to foot. Unlike him, she had nothing. No water, no food, no map or compass. Her bare legs were scratched, leaves in her hair. At least she had a hooded sweatshirt on this time. It came as no surprise when she hung her head and admitted, “I’m lost.”

“You should have stayed on the path.” He chided her as gently as possible.

“What path?”

He held out his hand, waiting for her to take it. When she did, her palm clammy and her skin smooth, he led her through the trees toward the path he’d passed while tracking those footprints. Once there, he was strangely reluctant to let her go. He looked into her eyes, glistening with the remnants of her distress.

“This path.” His voice was hoarse. Reluctantly, he dropped her hand and pointed to a narrow path through the trees that led south. “That’s the way back to camp.”

“How do you know?”

“The moss on the trees.”

She frowned. “What?”

He couldn’t help but smile at her confusion. “Moss grows where it’s damp. On a smooth, vertical surface, that will be on the side that isn’t exposed when the sun is at its highest point in the sky, when it is at its hottest. That’s the north side.” He pointed at a nearby white bark pine tree. “See the way the moss is facing us?”

“Yes…” she answered, dubiously.

“Walk around to the other side.”

When she shot him a wary gaze, as if she thought that he was pulling her leg, he couldn’t help but smile. He slid his hand around to the small of her back, touching her so lightly that it made his fingers tingle. She didn’t object, and that only sent a lingering warmth through him as he guided her forward, emboldened. He pointed at the south side of the tree, devoid of moss.

“See? No moss here.”

She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. “There’s moss near the ground, right there.”

“A lot of moisture rises from the ground. You can’t count on anything under two feet to guide your path. Choose a tree with moss at eye level, that’s more reliable.”

She turned toward him. She smelled like lemon again, a scent he couldn’t help but think of her whenever he smelled it. It was sunny and fresh, just like she was. “Did you learn all this stuff from walking the woods around here?” she whispered.

No. He’d learned it in the Rangers. He’d used it on hikes when he’d needed to get away from all the gold diggers in his life. Eventually, he would need to get away from her, too. Whenever someone learned he had money, they inevitably tried to take advantage of him—even his own sister. Lily might think him a handyman for now, but how long could that last?

Pulling his arm away, he murmured under his breath. “No. I learned that trick before coming here. Follow me, I’ll show you back to camp.”

And there, he would find something else to occupy him than Lily’s presence. Something like finding the person bent on sabotaging Ruby’s campground.