Dyna's Diner and Delicatessen was still the social hub of Cedar Springs. The locals came and went like clockwork, and it was rare to see a new face—and that was just the way Sookie Logan preferred it. She stood in the parking lot, hands in her pockets, staring up at the candy-red exterior of the streamliner diner. Though freshly painted, it was smaller than she remembered.

Or maybe she was just bigger than she remembered.

It had been an easy decision to head to Dyna's today after completing her first successful survey. Flying made her ravenous, and confrontations with handsome, cocksure men doubly so. Try as she might, she couldn't get the firefighter with the confident, boyish grin out of her mind. When he had come loping across the landing strip to meet her, she had nearly broken one of her most important cardinal rules and actually given him the time of day.

Men. They were like stray cats. Let them paw the door open once, and suddenly you're existing side-by-side with another life you're committed to, beholden to. Funny thing, the arrangement never seemed to go both ways; in both scenarios, the tomcat came and went as he chose, lavishing affection when it suited him. Jason might have been the only exception to the rule . . . but she didn't let herself think about her ex when she could help it.

The little bell over the diner door chimed as she entered, and even that was familiar. Sookie smiled to herself before schooling her expression as she made her way over to the diner's long bar. She found her usual stool empty and smiled again despite herself. She sat down.

Dyna, the diner's proprietor and cook, walked out of the kitchen, dabbing the perspiration from her forehead with a corner of her apron. She froze when she saw Sookie. Sookie's grin broadened, and she waved. So much for trying to fool Dyna. She had half-considered pretending to be a tourist stopping off on her way to the Coast, but it was obvious from the way Dyna's jaw dropped that six years wasn't that long an absence. Sookie may have felt like a different person, but maybe she hadn't changed as much outwardly as she’d thought.

"Sookie!" Dyna exclaimed. Several local heads turned, and shuttered eyes lit up in recognition of the name. Sookie leaned back on her stool, drumming her fingers on the counter, meeting everyone's curious look but holding no one's gaze.

"Heya, Dyna."

"Don't 'heya, Dyna' me! C'mere, you!" Dyna bustled around the counter, and Sookie rose obediently to receive her hug. Dyna still gave the best hugs: long and strong and bosomy, and she smelled like the cherry pie filling she made fresh herself.

Sookie drew in a long breath, sighing it out contentedly as they broke apart.

Dyna swiped at her eyes.

"It's good to be home," Sookie said as Dyna walked back behind the counter. "How are things?"

"Oh, you know. Same old, same old." Dyna flapped a hand, but in the next moment, she was leaning eagerly forward on the counter, her other hand fisted in the crease of her substantial waist. That pose, too, Sookie remembered fondly. "But what about you? Where you been all this time, Sookie?"

"I joined the National Guard," Sookie volunteered. Dyna, appearing to remember herself, turned to pour Sookie a cup of coffee, fresh and dark from the pot, as she spoke. "Been with them two years now. I'm in town to help with the fire. I'm air support." She couldn't help the warm bubble of pride that swelled in her as her ears registered her own explanation, but she kept cool outwardly. She knew very few overeager pilots—live ones, anyway.

"Well, now ain't that something?" Dyna declared. The bubble in Sookie doubled, no, tripled, in size. Dyna slid the mug of coffee her way, and Sookie tried to come up with something properly modest to say. Dyna was already moving on. "How'd your brother take the news? Bet he's never been prouder!"

The bubble burst.

"I . . . haven't really been in touch with Hank," Sookie admitted as Dyna took her menu away. No need to waste words on ordering when she always got the same thing: strawberry pancakes with a side of homegrown honey instead of syrup.

"That's a shame." She could see Dyna’s disapproval, even if the woman didn't appear exactly surprised.

"I ran into him in Alaska a few years ago," Sookie said quickly. "We just . . . we don't talk much. After what happened."

Dyna's grimace was now sympathetic. She reached across the bar and patted Sookie on one wilted shoulder. "Why don't I get you those pancakes," she said. "Local discount." Sookie nodded gratefully as the older woman disappeared back through the swinging doors of the kitchen.

Once Dyna had gone, Sookie leaned back on her stool, both hands wrapped around her coffee mug, and breathed another contented sigh. She had known her return to town would raise questions about Hank, but knowing didn't make navigating those conversations any easier. Her brother's movements in the world were as mysterious to her as they were to anyone who asked after him, yet she was still expected to keep close tabs on him. That's what family was for, right?

Any normal, well-adjusted family, anyway.

"How's the coffee?" Dyna asked as she returned. Sookie realized she was grimacing, and quickly changed her expression to one of absolute caffeinated enchantment. It wasn't hard—she had flown all around the world and had never tasted a cup that was its equal, and she told Dyna as much now. "Oh, stop it, you!" Dyna swatted her affectionately as she placed a steaming-hot pile of pancakes in front of her. Sookie's mouth watered at the sight. "You been by to see Lana yet?"

"I was thinking about it," Sookie hedged. She picked up the honey and drizzled sweet liquid gold all over her short stack until the cakes were completely gilded. Then she dove headfirst into her breakfast.

Dyna passed her a napkin, and the disproving look was back. "You ought to go see her." It came on stronger than a suggestion. "I'm sure she'd love to hear all about how you're getting on in the world." And I'm sure she'd love to hear all about Hank was the unspoken follow-up—or at least, Sookie imagined it was.

Hank and Lana had dated seriously all through high school. Everyone in Cedar Springs had every expectation that the golden couple would get hitched right after graduation, and none had expected it more than Lana herself.

Things hadn't worked out that way, to say the least.

Sookie wondered if it could be possible that Lana still loved Hank, even after all this time. What was Lana still doing living in this damn town? Waiting for a miracle? Waiting to wake up one morning to find her brother, Michael, still alive, and Hank in the driveway with his old firebird-red Buick? If she visited Lana, what sort of woman was she likely to meet after all these years?

Sookie shook her head to clear it, but Dyna interpreted it differently. "Sookie," she said with a new weight in her voice. "You owe her a visit. If it's going to be one of you Logans, it may as well be you."

"I agree," Sookie said. She took another swig of hot coffee, relishing the fire that raced down her throat and ignited a little extra courage in her heart. "It will be good to see her."

"She's as beautiful as ever." Dyna sighed wistfully. "So are you, dear. Sakes alive, you bloomed right on up like a rare mountain flower. I swear I don't know what magic's in the water around here, but I gotta get me some."

"From where I'm sitting, it looks like you've had plenty." Sookie grinned and received another affectionate swat. "Hasn’t anyone flirted with you yet today, Dyna? I'll flirt with you."

"You Logans!" Dyna exclaimed again, this time with an appreciative laugh. "Bunch of charming rascals at heart! I never knew whether to give you an extra kiss of cocoa or a good swift kick in the ass."

No one did, Sookie reflected. "I seem to remember a lot of cocoa," she said aloud. "The diner always felt like a nice place to us." To get away from home. "We were always happy here."

"Well, the diner's happy to have you home. And I know Lana would be, as well. She always liked you, you know," Dyna confided as she started collecting dishes.

"I always liked her," Sookie muttered. It was true. Though Sookie was younger, Lana had never treated her like a pesky little sister or a thorn in her relationship with Hank that she was forced to bear. Hell, she had been one of the few constants in Sookie's life, until Hank's shitty decisions had ripped Lana away from her. "I guess I just assumed she'd rather not see me," she concluded. "Not after everything."

"Only one way to find out!" Dyna said brightly.

Sookie nodded. If she could fly a Black Hawk over a raging fire, she could drag her ass over to Lana Sweet's and try to make things right by her—even if it was her brother who owed the biggest apology of all. But if you were going to wait on Hank Logan to come back around and make reparations for all the damage he had done, then you might as well sit tight and start counting the years.

Like poor Lana.

The bell chimed, and a blast of heady mountain air came into the room. Several seconds later, a dish dropped, rattling several revolutions on the floor before stilling. The dish had fallen out of Dyna's hands.

Sookie gazed in alarm at the older woman. Was she having some sort of fit? She quickly ran through a short list of physical symptoms, but she couldn't identify anything responsible for Dyna's complete upright catatonia. Then, suddenly, the spell was broken, and Dyna gasped. "Well, if it isn't the hand of God himself, I don't know what is!"

Sookie turned slowly on her stool. Agonizingly slow. The movie-murderer-is-standing-directly-behind-you-slow. She knew by the astonished tone of Dyna's voice what she was about to see, but she still couldn't fully wrap her head around it when she finally saw it.

It was her brother, Hank, standing in the doorway to the diner, so tall she was surprised he had avoided hitting his head on the little bell.

Two other men ducked in behind Hank. She watched as the first removed his cap, then the second man. It was the last man's face that completed the one-two punch to Sookie's stomach. Standing beside her brother was the would-be Romeo from the tarmac, looking more delicious than Dyna's strawberry pancakes. She could all-too-easily imagine the abs stacked beneath his T-shirt, and what it would be like to lick her way down them . . . with a drizzle of honey, of course. She practically had to drag her eyes kicking and screaming away from looking at him, and that was with her brother still standing there, surveying Dyna's like a lord, as if it was a domain he intended to retake for some distant kingdom.

Hank's eyes locked with Sookie's.

She raised her hand in a cool wave, sparing no grease in the elbow. She let the hand drift back down to the counter as Hank crossed the short distance to her stool. The two men standing behind him exchanged a look of confusion before following; Sookie noted that Romeo's confusion seemed tinged with embarrassment, maybe even a little panic. She couldn't deny it was a cute look . . . and one she was feeling more than passingly sympathetic to at the moment.

She didn't stand to receive a hug like she had with Dyna. Hank froze a moment, hovering over her, but then relaxed his posture. His hands slipped comfortably into the front pockets of his jeans. Sookie noted mentally that she had the same habit, and she wondered if she had picked it up from him.

She would have to work at breaking it. Later.

"Hey, Sook . . ." Hank began.

The entire diner held its breath.