Chapter 1
in which our heroine finds herself in the wrong diner.
He can’t find you here.
Stephanie Clark had mouthed those words so many times this week, she’d stopped counting. She paused with her hand on the door of the diner, taking a moment to draw in a slow, deep breath. She steadied her nerves.
You’re home now. It’s going to be okay.
One more breath in and she heaved open the door to the diner, tensing a little at the long, slow creak. She made her way over to her booth. That far corner was a good spot – facing one exit, close enough to the other. Away from most of the people, but close enough to hear them talking.
The chatter was grounding – familiar, casual voices talking about everyday life. How things were going at the ranch. The new calf. Weren’t the grandkids growing up fast?
It helped her remember that normal things were still going on, that life would settle down. She’d take every reassurance that she could get.
She glanced over the menu, not that she needed to. Same as usual. The book said she needed routines, a new normal, something stable and solid to depend on.
“Evenin’, honey,” the waitress called out from behind the counter. Misti? Kristi? Something with an i. “Long time, no see.”
Long time indeed. Somewhere around 23 hours and 15 minutes. But who’s counting? Stephanie forced herself to brighten, to act cheerful. She didn’t want the questions. Given the situation, small town curiosity was inevitable. But not today.
Make small talk, Steph. Be friendly.
“You’ve really got to do something about that door.”
“The door, the light,” Misti-Kristi nodded towards the flicker in the parking lot. “The menu.”
Stephanie pasted on a smile for the waitress and told herself that the banter was nice.
She felt almost safe today. The first day in… months? Years? Last night she’d only got up to check the locks twice. That was progress.
She scanned the faces of the diner patrons anyway.
Young couple with a baby, looking bored.
Four big truckers cleaning up huge plates.
Mr. Powell, who probably hadn’t moved from that spot in twenty years.
Guy in the other corner, his back to her. Didn’t know him, but he didn’t look out of place. Ball cap. Plaid shirt. A normal guy eating a normal dinner.
A little of the tension she always carried let out of her shoulders and she settled into her booth.
“Same as usual?” The waitress came closer, not bothering to take out her order pad. The nametag said Misti.
“Maybe more pickles this time.”
In a moment, she was by herself again.
She wrapped herself in the feeling of being alone at her table, savoring it while she could, and looked around at the other people in the diner. It had become a little game, something to take the edge off. She counted the number of people she recognized, the familiar faces. Three tonight.
It was nice, comforting. The flannel shirts, the baby’s bib. Ordinary, small-town life.
One more deep breath. You’re feeling better every day, Steph.
It was time to start living like a human again. Acting like a person instead of acting like prey. She’d looked around for some jobs today, and it didn’t look promising. She could always get work at the Dairy Land again, but she’d been hoping for something without quite so many old ties.
When she got a job, she could send for Jessie. Jessie could start school. Maybe home life would be a little less dramatic here.
The side door slammed shut and she jumped, her head snapping up. Just Mike, the owner. He’d been silent when she was in high school and he was mercifully silent still.
She began to give herself a small rebuke for startling and then stopped. Forgive yourself. Forgive yourself.
She’d been getting so much better since she’d been home. Her jumps were limited to her head and neck now, not those whole body freezes like back in New York. She made herself look straight ahead to the parking lot. Relax and focus, just like the CD said.
Check for tension in the jaw. Drop the shoulders. It’s just body panic.
What was she thinking about? Right. Jessie.
Maybe things would be better between them here. She’d taken the classes. She’d gone to the seminars at the library. Of course things were going to be challenging as Jessie got older. Two women in one house and all that. She just didn’t expect all the conflict to start so early.
They had been fine before the notes. Jessie had been a great kid, and Steph felt like a great mom. Well, a good one, anyway. Great moms usually gave their kids great dads, but this was the 21st century. Lots of children didn’t have both parents. It wasn’t ideal, but they’d done okay.
When the notes started coming, she’d tried to keep Jessie out of it, tried to keep things the same at home. But the more they came, the more she’d closed them both off from the world. Who could blame Jessie for acting up? She was a Brooklyn kid. She was used to a fast pace, a full life.
Jessie was just rebelling. Maybe when she got here, it would get better. Maybe if Stephanie relaxed, things could be like they used to be. Maybe. Langford was going to take some getting used to, sure. For both of them. But she prayed it would work out.
Praying hadn’t gotten her much so far, but that didn’t stop her from trying. Well, it did some days. It did for a long time. But being home now just might turn things around.
Get a job, stop putting off a few unpleasant phone calls, and they could start fresh.
Someone was approaching the door and Stephanie braced herself. She wasn’t going to jump this time. It was just a door. Just a man coming into a diner to get something to eat. That’s all it was. Nothing to be afraid of.
She was not going to scan every face forever. She was going to get a grip. What was it Jessie always said? ‘Summon the will to chill, mom.’
She kept her eyes on the parking lot, and watched the light flicker. Stay grounded in reality. Stay attuned to your senses.
She fought to tune in to the world around her. The light probably made a crackling noise as it flicked on and off. She inhaled slowly to smell the air around her. Chili. Cleaner. Maybe a storm coming.
Listen closely. Pay attention.
Silverware. Water running. A commercial on the radio for feed.
The new guy strode to the counter. His boots clunked with purpose. Tall, broad-shouldered, he walked with a mission, like someone who’d been on the road far too many miles and waiting for his next meal far too long.
He sat, shifted, got himself comfortable. He took off his wide-brimmed hat, faded and covered with dust, and placed it on the counter. She couldn’t get a good look at his face, but the tan of his skin and the shadow on his jawline gave him a sense of authority that felt… warm.
Get ahold of yourself.
She shook her head, like in a daze. You have a lot more important things to think about than handsome strangers in a hometown diner. You need to figure out what to do about –
“Adam Chase!”
Misti’s cheerful voice sliced through the air as she sashayed up to the counter, balancing Stephanie’s drink on a tray. “You’ve been gone forever. It’s been weeks!”
Adam.
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
Except it didn’t look like Adam at all, at least not the Adam she remembered. So much for nothing to be afraid of.
Misti leaned in over the counter with a conspiratorial gleam in her eye. “How’s it going? Did you get your guy?”
He smiled, big as ever. “Only a matter of time. They can run, but they can’t hide, right?”
Misti giggled. “Not from a Chase, they can’t.”
Adam laughed with her and turned his head away from the counter.
There was no time to look away, no time to hide her face. His eyes found her.
The chuckle froze on his lips and he stared.
Misti leaned in further, oblivious. “Hot out there, huh? Think a storm’s coming?”
“Oh, a storm’s coming, all right.” His eyes stayed locked on Stephanie’s as he spoke. His voice was deeper, more confident, practically a drawl now. Maybe the new voice came with the new shoulders.
“It better get here soon. Your momma’s gonna be wanting that rain.” Misti’s voice had transformed into a coo.
“Storm’s just playing with us,” he said, still not breaking eye contact. “He’ll strike when he’s good and ready and not a minute sooner.”
“Well, I’m ready for this heat to break. It’s doing crazy things to people.” This woman was one step away from batting her eyelashes.
“Crazy people are good for business.” He stood up and put his hat on his chair. “You hold my spot, will you?”
Chase turned from the counter and strolled towards her booth in the corner. Stephanie tried her best to hide her shock as she watched him approach.
He looked nothing like before. The Army must have been good to him. That must be, what, thirty pounds of muscle?
His slouch was gone. He seemed taller than she remembered. He walked with the confidence of a man who was ready for whatever life threw at him. From the look of his jacket and jeans, wherever he had just come back from, life had been throwing plenty.
“Well, would you look what the cat dragged in.” His eyes smiled but his jaw stayed still. “Howdy, stranger. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
He hadn’t shaved in a while. There was a scar on his cheek. Tiny lines at the corners of his eyes. He looked… what did he look like? He looked grown. He looked like a man.
Somehow, from somewhere, she spoke. “I could say the same to you.”
“I live here.” He gave a short laugh and she was treated to more eye crinkling. Not good.
“I thought you ran away.”
“I enlisted.”
“Same thing.”
“I did two tours. Came back when I was done.” He seemed to lean on the booth in slow motion, and she silently thanked God he didn’t sit down.
“So, to what do we owe the pleasure?”
To what did he owe the pleasure?
Well, I have a stalker. Had one, anyway. And I’ve got a daughter, too. She’s yours, actually. Thought I’d come home, maybe look you up, make some introductions.
She was not ready for this. Not yet. Not now. Not tonight. How was she going to explain?
Before she could open her mouth, Misti saved her by stepping in between them, tray in tow. She looked at Stephanie with a hint of a sparkle in her eyes.“Hey, do you two know each other?”
“You could say that.” He grinned. Sort of.
“Well, you’re a lucky girl, honey.”
“Am I?” She had to look away. She had to break eye contact.
“Well, you’re sitting right in front of Langford’s most eligible and –” she paused for effect, and put a single orange flower down onto the table with a flourish. “Someone sent this over for you. Look’s like you’ve got a secret admirer.”
Stephanie froze.
No. Not here. Not anymore.
“Who sent this?” Her words came out barely more than a whisper.
“The nice gentleman over –“ she gestured towards the other corner of the diner where the single man had been sitting. “Oh! He’s gone.”
This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening.
“He left a note, though. Maybe he wants to stay secret.” She winked at Adam.
Suddenly cold, she was motionless.
It’s not possible. It can’t be possible.
“Well, he’s got a funny taste in flowers, that’s for sure.” Adam took a step back.
“You think so?” Misti got in closer to take a look. “I think it’s exotic.”
Stephanie inched her hand towards the note. Folded once, nothing on the front, like they all were.
All the sounds were gone. The only thing she could hear was her heart crashing into her chest. She picked up the paper and opened it. In only a moment she heard it drop to the table top.
“Meet me outside in five minutes.”
The room was blurry. All that was left was the note, that fold, his sick little smiley face.
Her body went rigid. Her mouth wouldn't move. Her arms were icy but her face was burning.
Tears tried to well up in her eyes but couldn’t break through. She wanted to run somewhere, anywhere, and make it go away, but she stayed frozen in place, trying with everything she had to not hyperventilate.
Chase was saying something, repeating something, but she couldn’t focus on what it was. Finally, he slammed his hand down on the table. A knife clattered onto the floor.
“Stephanie! What’s wrong?” His voice sounded so sharp. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”
She thought she was safe. She was going to send for Jessie. They were going to get a little house. They were going to grow strawberries. They were going to make jam.
“What’s going on?” He was close again. “Talk to me.”
What could she say? Chase snatched the note, glanced at it for barely an instant. She looked up at him, barely seeing. He threw it down and spun towards the door.
“Chase, no!”
He couldn’t go out there. He didn’t know what was lurking. He didn’t know who was waiting for her.
“Stop!”
He didn’t look back, hurled the door open. She heard the noise before she looked up. Tires squealing. Rocks scattering.
Just taillights and dust.
It took a lifetime for him to come back. The sound of his boots clapped through the air. People were turning towards them, craning their necks to watch the scene.
“What’s going on, Steph?” He gripped the table, his face too close. “Stephanie?”
She opened her mouth but the words wouldn’t come.
“I want you to look at me and tell me what’s going on right now.” Quieter. Not so harsh this time.
The world was spinning. Her balance was faltering. She held on tight to the seat beneath her.
She should speak. She should say something. She should explain.
“Sweetheart,” he whispered. “You’re getting me scared here. Talk to me. Tell me. No matter what it is, you can tell me.”
She could move her eyes before she could lift her head. Moments of silence stretched longer. His expression was soft now, worried.
“He found me.”