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want to get into that particular discussion. Only pain colored that philosophy.

      “Do you think if you hadn’t gone to France you and Jake might have gotten back together?”

      It wasn’t quite the comment she was expecting, but it was easier than discussing Emi. “No.”

      “You two were crazy about each other.”

      “Yeah, but we never really managed to know each other very well before we got married. And when…when…things got bad, instead of helping each other through it, we blamed each other.”

      “I’m sure Jake didn’t blame you.”

      Arguing the point now served no purpose. “I did.” I still do. Leandra swung her legs down from the couch and pushed to her feet. “So is there anything I can help with around here?” The house was as tidy as a pin. The yard outside was even more so, seeming to lay in wait with its lingering summer colors before autumn truly hit with all of its glory.

      “Not unless you want to come up with arts and crafts ideas for two elementary school classes.”

      Even that humorously meant offer made her hurt inside. “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.” She brushed her hands down the front of her jeans. “I’m going to head over to Ruby’s Café for something to eat. Do you want to go with me?”

      “Not this time. I need to get this done. There’s a meeting with the parent association this afternoon.”

      “They meet on Saturdays?”

      “They do when half of them have to drive over from Braden.”

      Even though Weaver had grown considerably since she was a little girl—mostly because of the computer gaming business her uncle Tristan had started here—it was still at heart a ranching community. “Some things never change.”

      “If Justine has any cinnamon rolls, bring a few home, okay?”

      “Will do.” Justine Leoni was the granddaughter of Ruby Leoni, the café’s founder. She was also the mother of Tristan’s wife, Hope. And fortunately for the town, Justine had inherited not only the café after Ruby died, but she’d inherited her grandmother’s ability to make the most delicious cinnamon rolls.

      Leandra didn’t bother with her purse. She merely tucked some cash into her front pocket—which unfortunately reminded her again of the previous evening—pushed her feet into tennis shoes and headed down the road.

      There was no need to drive.

      Ruby’s was located barely two miles away and the weather was pleasant. Bright blue skies. Morning briskness giving way to the sun’s warmth, hanging strong despite the steady breeze in the air. Leandra knew it wouldn’t be long before that warmth was only a memory for the residents of Weaver. With the lengthening year would come shorter days, cooling temperatures, and in another month or so, there could easily be snow on the ground.

      She looked across at the park as she walked along the street. Homes on one side, green grass on the other. During the wintertime, there would be an ice-skating rink covering part of what was now the baseball diamond, where a handful of kids were even now tossing around a ball.

      A young man was mowing the lawn in front of one of the houses she passed. She didn’t recognize him.

      Not surprising. There were a lot of people she didn’t recognize anymore in Weaver. That’s what happened when someone moved away and stayed away for years at a time.

      The logic was sound. The feeling in the pit of her stomach didn’t seem to care.

      Sighing, she quickened her step, rounding the corner onto Main Street. She could see Ruby’s from here. The door stood open to the fresh air, and when she angled across the road, waiting for a slowly passing car first, and walked into the café, she couldn’t help but smile.

      Here, everything was familiar. The only missing element was Ruby herself. But she’d died when Leandra was away at college.

      The entire town had attended the diminutive woman’s funeral. But Leandra hadn’t returned for it, even though Ruby had been part of her extended family—great-grandmother to Leandra’s aunt, Hope. No, Leandra had been too busy to come home for that event. Too involved in her studies, too involved in her own life.

      She stepped through the doorway.

      The first thing she smelled were the famous cinnamon rolls.

      The first person she noticed was Evan Taggart.

      He sat at a booth, facing the doorway, and, as if he’d been waiting for her arrival, he was watching her with not one wisp of surprise in his expression. She gave him a brief nod as she moved through the somewhat-crowded café toward the counter, but the casualness of the motion was belied by the butterflies that were suddenly batting around inside her stomach.

      “Hey there, Leandra.” The girl behind the counter smiled widely as she poured coffee for the patrons sitting at the counter in front of her. “You need to tell my brother that I should have some face time on your show.”

      “Tabby, if we put your pretty face on WITS, nobody is going to be interested in watching your brother,” Leandra teased as she slipped onto the only vacant red stool at the counter.

      Tabby dimpled. She really was as striking as her brother. “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of.” She sighed dramatically, managing to deliver a plate of corned beef hash and eggs without spilling a drop of coffee as she continued topping off coffee cups. “You here for breakfast? Daily specials are up on the board.”

      Leandra glanced at the chalkboard that was propped on a shelf. It, too, was a familiar sight. The looping handwriting, though, was undoubtedly Tabby’s. “Just give me the special,” she said. “And a half-dozen cinnamon rolls to go for Sarah, if there are any left.”

      Tabby nodded. “I’d already saved in back a dozen for my brother. But you can have half. He won’t mind.”

      Leandra wasn’t so sure. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder back at the booth where he’d been sitting.

      “You want to join him, I’ll bring your food on out in a sec.”

      No, Leandra didn’t want to join Evan. But even as she told herself she wasn’t going to, she was aware of more people entering the café. She was taking up a seat at the counter out of cowardly orneriness.

      She took her coffee cup—flipped over and filled up by Tabby without a word—and headed over to Evan’s booth. She was halfway there, and everyone in the café knew it, when Leandra’s feet dragged to an abrupt stop.

      The coffee sloshed over the cup’s rim, stinging hot on Leandra’s hand.

      Evan wasn’t alone.

      A pint-size little girl sat opposite him in the booth.

      She had striking blue eyes, creamy white skin and shining black hair that was as dark as midnight.

      She looked like a miniature, female version of Evan, and the sight of her was a blow to her midsection.

      She’d heard of Evan’s niece, of course, but she hadn’t expected to come face-to-face with her.

      And she’d never known that she was so like her uncle she could have been his daughter.

      Evan breathed a soft curse as he saw the color drain from Leandra’s face. He was already moving out of the booth and heading for her when she seemed to sway a little, spilling coffee over her hand.

      She looked up at him as he took the coffee cup from her. Her eyes seemed to dwarf the rest of her small face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect—”

      “I watch Hannah for Katy sometimes.” Katy was his half-sister by blood and his cousin by marriage. Mostly, though, she was Hannah’s mom.

      She blinked once. Twice. “Right. Of course.”

      He

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