About the Author

CAROLINE FLYNN is a Canadian writer from Northern Ontario. She doesn’t have to imagine what small town life is like – she lives it every day. Caroline loves everything book related, whether it’s reading them or writing them, and she is the dog-mom of an eccentric brindle boxer named Jazz (who makes an appearance in The Forget-Me-Not-Bakery!). Caroline uses her coffee addiction to fuel her writing passion, and she can’t imagine devoting her life to being anything other than an author.

She loves connecting with readers! You can find her at @flynnromance on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.

Also by Caroline Flynn

The Forget-Me-Not Bakery

The Winter Berry House
CAROLINE FLYNN

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2020

Copyright © Caroline Flynn

Caroline Flynn asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © October 2020 ISBN: 9780008409036

Version: 2020-09-18

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Also by Caroline Flynn

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1: Kait

Chapter 2: Branch

Chapter 3: Kait

Chapter 4: Branch

Chapter 5: Kait

Chapter 6: Branch

Chapter 7: Kait

Chapter 8: Branch

Chapter 9: Kait

Chapter 10: Branch

Chapter 11: Kait

Chapter 12: Branch

Chapter 13: Kait

Chapter 14: Branch

Chapter 15: Kait

Chapter 16: Branch

Chapter 17: Kait

Chapter 18: Branch

Chapter 19: Kait

Chapter 20: Branch

Chapter 21: Kait

Chapter 22: Branch

Chapter 23: Kait

Epilogue: Branch

Acknowledgements

Extract

Dear Reader …

Keep Reading …

About the Publisher

This one’s for you, Erica.

Chapter 1
Kait

‘Two coffees and a slice of lemon meringue pie to share, please, Kait.’

‘So, the usual,’ Kait replied with a grin. She didn’t even bother to write the order down on her notepad, leaving it tucked away in the left side-pocket of her apron. ‘Two forks?’ she asked, though she knew the answer before the question left her mouth.

‘You betcha.’ Arnold’s enthusiasm belied his advanced age. His genuine smile did, too.

‘Coming right up.’

Arnold and Jemima Jackson came into the diner – The Port, as it was officially called – every day at two o’clock on the dot without fail, and they ordered the same two coffees and one slice of pie with two forks. Not even the homemade Christmas cake with brown sugar sauce that had been added to today’s dessert menu could sway them from their usual lemon meringue slice. They always stayed until three-thirty, leaving a two-dollar tip on the table under one of the coffee mugs before they left for their daily stroll down the boardwalk to watch the boats come into the harbor, their matching walking canes tapping in perfect synchronicity the whole way.

And every day that Kait Davenport worked, she watched the elderly couple in whimsical awe as they held each other’s hands, their fingers gnarled and wrinkled with the decades gone by, lost in their own simple, soft-spoken conversation like no one else was in the room. They were both well into their eighties, and she pondered what a love like that must be like.

‘They’re at it again,’ Kait whispered to Janna as she rounded the counter and worked on getting the Jacksons’ order together. ‘Making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.’

Janna, donning an identical lavender uniform and deep purple apron, gave Kait a brief sideways glance, too caught up in her bid to arrange six cups of coffee on a tray and not spill a drop to offer up her full attention. Her mouth curved up at the corners, though, and she shook her head. ‘You’re such a sucker for that kind of thing.’

‘I can’t help it if I love the idea of love.’ Kait took the coffee pot from Janna when she offered it. ‘And you’re lucky you’re family or you wouldn’t be getting away with calling me a sucker.’

That earned her a full-blown eye roll. ‘It’s because I’m your sister that I know exactly why you shouldn’t be such a sucker for love,’ she replied. Plunking a pile of creamer pods in the middle of her well-balanced circle of coffee mugs, Janna heaved the tray up onto the palm of her outstretched hand. ‘We Davenport women will never learn.’

Kait watched her older sister head back to the table of six she was serving. There was only a three-year difference between them, but Janna may as well have been decades older the way she assumed her motherly role where Kait was concerned instead of acting like the thirty-two-year-old woman she was. Kait didn’t blame her, though. She couldn’t. Becoming a single mom of twins and raising those two babies on the meager income of a small-town diner gig was reason enough for Janna to adopt her overprotective parenting ways. Kait’s romantic track record only added fuel to the fire.

Living in Port Landon her entire life had its perks. There was always a friendly face to be found no matter where she was, she didn’t have to use her bank card to ‘check in’ at the local bank because every teller there could pull her up in their system by name alone, and she never had to explain their complicated family dynamic, as the community knew very well that she lived with her sister and neither one of them was married.

Having everyone know their business was a drawback, too, though. Kait had grown up amongst the people who surrounded her, and those same people knew all the things that twenty-nine-year-old Kait would just as soon forget. All the things that her eighteen-year-old self had done, believed, and lost were at the top of that lengthy list. As close-knit as Port Landon was, the town as a collective whole sometimes wasn’t too keen on leaving things buried in the past, intent on the constant reminiscing and recollecting that an aging population was known for. They didn’t forget.

Neither did Janna, by the sounds of it. Kait didn’t either, but she was at least hopeful, even if bleakly so, that real love did exist. If it could for Arnold and Jemima Jackson, lasting the span of some sixty odd years, then surely she had half a chance at it, too.

‘Earth to Kait.’

Hand suspended above the lemon meringue pie, Kait’s attention snapped back to the here and now. A pair of familiar hazel eyes stared at her, eyebrows arched high on his forehead. She sliced the pie and placed it onto the dessert plate beside it. ‘Creature of habit, aren’t you?’ She said it in jest, one corner of her mouth lifting, but Kait had to hold back the defeated sigh she felt pleading to be released from her throat.

Zach Canton stared at her from over the counter, leaning forward on his elbows. ‘Got to see my girl,’ he quipped. ‘Wouldn’t want you to think I forgot about you.’

It would be funny if Kait didn’t find it so sad. Or frustratingly repetitive.

‘I’m not your girl, Zach,’ she playfully admonished him, setting the knife down before she shook a finger at him. ‘I’m your friend. Just friends, remember?’

Zach didn’t wilt at the reminder, and his smirk didn’t falter. It never did when they had this conversation, which was almost daily. ‘I know,’ he advised with a wink, holding up his hands in mock surrender. ‘I don’t mean anything by it, you know that. Old habits die hard, I guess.’

The only thing Kait did know was that it had been years since they’d tried to date. Despite their incompatibility as romantic partners – even after being friends throughout high school before they attempted to take things further – Zach had yet to fully realize that there wouldn’t be a second chance for them as lovers. Kait believed in love, but she also believed that true love couldn’t be forced. She couldn’t fake it, not even for the sake of a man she had been friends with for half her lifetime.

Besides, she had already experienced love once, the kind that came effortlessly and passionately without conscious decision, and look where that had got her. More than ten years after that fiasco, she was still here in Port Landon, still wishing for a romance that would survive the test of time, and still knowing in her gut that kind of love didn’t come along twice in one lifetime.

Maybe Janna’s pessimism was starting to rub off on her.

‘Sorry,’ she sighed, fully aware she was being a bit more standoffish about Zach’s advances than usual. It had been years since they broke up, and years since he first started visiting her at the diner during her shifts. Today was no different than any other day in their tiny town, so Kait really had no reason to be as on edge than she was. ‘I’m just tired,’ she explained. ‘Janna had the evening shift last night, so I was with the kids till she got home after ten. Who knew twin boys were so exhausting?’ She offered a grin up as she said it, and luckily her friend took the bait.

‘No need to apologize,’ he replied. ‘You never need to explain yourself to me, you know that.’

Now she felt even worse for reprimanding him about his flirting. It was harmless, he was harmless, and he’d been doing it for years. Yet, Zach was right. He never made her explain herself to him, never asked for anything other than her company. Though she knew he would jump at the chance to rekindle their bygone romance, Zach had been a good friend to her over the years. One of her only friends save for Allison, who owned the local coffeehouse, and more recently, Paige, the owner of Port Landon’s very own bakery. Zach had stuck by her since high school, despite everything he’d been through during that tumultuous time. Despite everything Kait had been through. Together, the two of them had that much in common; their senior high school years weren’t ones they liked to reminisce about.

‘Let me get this pie and coffee to the Jacksons, then I’ll be back.’ She scooped the plate, forks, and coffee tray up and carried them over to Arnold and Jemima’s booth near the window facing out onto the sidewalk.

‘That boy doesn’t miss a beat, does he?’ Arnold blurted as she set the plate down in the middle of the table. The coffee mugs swayed dangerously on the tray, but thankfully Kait managed to maneuver them onto the table before her surprise caused her to spill them. Jemima, never one to comment about other people, swatted her husband’s arm.

‘Arnie!’ she hissed over the faint melody of Christmas carols that floated through the diner.

Unfazed, Arnold nodded his gratitude for the coffee and pie, but he pinned Kait with a knowing stare. ‘Don’t be shushing me, now,’ he replied. ‘Young Kait knows exactly what I’m referring to. That Canton boy’s only got eyes for you.’

Kait might have known that, even without Arnold’s comment, but a warm blush still crept into her cheeks at having it pointed out. ‘We’re friends, Arnold,’ she choked out. It had been a long time since someone outwardly suggested something more between them. To her face, anyway. ‘Just friends.’

‘Ah.’ He nodded, a knowing glint in his eye. ‘And that’s because you still only got eyes for somebody else, huh?’

‘Arnold Frederick Jackson!’ Jemima hissed. Reaching out to pat Kait’s arm, the elderly woman gazed up at her with pleading and apologetic eyes. ‘Sorry, Kait, dear, it seems he’s forgotten his manners today.’

Kait’s throat thickened with embarrassment, but she forced a smile onto her face, placing her own hand over Jemima’s. ‘No need to worry,’ she assured her, giving them both the most nonchalant expression she could muster. Leaning in, she shook a playful finger at Arnold. ‘We’re just friends,’ she whispered with a grin. ‘Now, enjoy your pie.’

The entire way back behind the counter, one word reverberated through her mind on a constant loop. Still. He hadn’t suggested she merely had eyes for somebody else, Arnold had said she still had eyes for someone else. Still. And there was only one man she’d ever fallen head over heels in love with, and everyone knew it. Even Arnold Jackson.

Damn you, Branch, she screamed in her mind. You’re still making a fool of me after all these years. Not only a fool, but also an unwilling believer in things she didn’t want to believe in at all. There was a man sitting before her right now, ready and able to love her with every fiber of his being, yet Kait couldn’t and wouldn’t allow it. Because she didn’t love him the same way. Because she believed there were a lot of things in life that were ordinary, and love wasn’t supposed to be one of them. Love, she believed, was meant to be consuming and wild and passionate, and she believed it for one reason and one reason only.

Because she had experienced it with Branch Sterling. Even as teenagers, they had known their love was different, somehow. There wasn’t a thing mediocre about it.

And he’d still betrayed her and broken her heart.

Damn you, Branch, she thought again.

‘Something wrong?’ Zach’s voice cut through her searing thoughts. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

Interesting choice of words, considering it felt like the ghost of her first love was never far from her. Most of the time, folks around Port Landon were too polite to mention his name to her face, but Kait still heard the sporadic tidbits of information about him that drifted through the town. After his grandmother, a long-time and well-loved resident of the small town, passed away last year, there had been a landslide of mentions regarding him, speculation about the fact that he never returned for more than a few days at a time, and when he was there no one seemed to know about it until he was already gone. Branch knew how to stay under the radar, which was saying something seeing as there was no greater force to be reckoned with than the nosy neighbors and other members of a small, close-knit community.

‘I’m fine,’ was all Kait could manage. ‘You want a coffee or something? I can get you a menu.’ Coming there daily, there was no way Zach required one, and he could probably recite the list of dishes offered by heart, but Kait needed to say something to get beyond the meddling memories that were catapulting around in her brain.

Zach, however, furrowed his eyebrows. ‘Is this about Branch?’

‘Is everyone thinking of Branch freaking Sterling today?’ Kait snarled, throwing down the bar towel she had just picked up.

‘Sorry.’ Her friend’s hands shot up in surrender, fingertips pointed toward the ceiling. ‘I just thought … that haunted look on your face …’ He cleared his throat, softening the edge in his voice. ‘I figured it must be because of him.’

Immediately, Kait despised the fact that he was right, that it was that obvious, and that she was that predictable. It took a lot to get on the bad side of Kait Davenport, who was known for being a happy-go-lucky, spirited woman. But only one person had ever managed to hurt her so irrevocably that the simple mention of his name could incite feelings of turmoil and rage. And that person was the man she had loved passionately and wildly at the tender age of eighteen … Branch Sterling.

‘Arnold brought him up,’ she replied quietly, pouring Zach a coffee he hadn’t asked for, purely so her hands were busy doing something, anything. ‘Well, kind of.’

Zach simply nodded as she slid the coffee mug toward him. ‘Everyone seems to be talking about him lately.’ He reached for the sugar dispenser. ‘The guy didn’t even stick around after Addie’s funeral, yet he has the audacity to think he’ll be welcomed here now, after all these years?’

Mouth gaping, Kait struggled to take in an adequate breath of air. ‘Wait, what?’

Zach went still, hand suspended just above his mug. ‘Branch,’ he said, suddenly looking unsure of himself. ‘You said that’s who Arnold and Jemima were talking about, right?’

Kait waved a hand dismissively. This was no time to discuss the not-so-misguided conversations of a couple in their eighties. ‘Zach, forget them. What are you talking about?’

He stared at her for a beat too long, but there was no way to get out of the uncomfortable exchange without divulging what he knew. ‘Kait, Branch is back,’ he explained calmly. ‘And if the rumors are true, he might be around for a while.’

Chapter 2
Branch

Hometowns were supposed to be where it all began, where folks got their start in life, survived their adolescence and grew into the people they were meant to become.

For Branch Sterling, Port Landon was the beginning of the end. Nothing in this town had been his for his entire life, yet the memories he had of it were the ones that had shaped him into the man he was. The good and the bad.

He pulled the rented Ford Escape into the familiar paved double driveway he used to spend summers practicing his basketball skills on. Okay, more like his lack of skills, but he loved the game, nonetheless. His grandparents had even surprised him with not one, but two, portable basketball nets so he and his friends could turn that big ol’ driveway into a full-fledged court.

God, he missed them. The two people who took him in when he had no one else, and who believed in him and his abilities regardless of his aptitude or belief in himself.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Branch forced himself to kill the engine and get out. He couldn’t sit in the driveway and hide forever. Besides, this was Port Landon. The SUV had been in Grandma Addie’s driveway for only a few minutes, but the ever-watching eyes of the neighbors would have seen it by now. If people didn’t already know he was back in town, which he highly doubted, they would soon enough. Nothing and no one went unnoticed in a small town. Or unspeculated. Or un-gossiped. Those weren’t real words, but they were very real things within the town limits of this place.

Branch didn’t bother locking the Escape. He hadn’t been here since Grandma Addie’s funeral the year before, and even then he’d only stayed a handful of days, but he doubted things had changed so much that folks had to lock up their vehicles and homes in broad daylight.

One glance at the old Ford Bronco in the driveway and he was glad he had chosen to rent a car instead of taking a gamble on his grandparents’ vehicles. The Bronco was Grandpa Duke’s, and though he had passed away three years before Branch’s grandmother, the old vehicle hadn’t moved since the day he went into the hospital and didn’t come home. Grandma Addie never touched it, and she certainly wouldn’t sell it. She couldn’t. It wasn’t hers to sell, she said. And his grandfather had been adamant to anyone who’d listen about who’s Bronco it was. It was to be Branch’s should anything ever happen to him.

Along with everything else, it turned out.

His grandparents’ only child was Branch’s mother, Lucinda, and when she died alongside Branch’s father in a car accident when Branch was only eleven, they lost not only their immediate family, but the rightful heir to all the assets they’d accumulated throughout their lives. Which left Branch, the kid who inherited it after they had inherited him all those years ago.

And now, as he stared up at the looming Victorian home he had grown up in from the tender age of eleven onward, the house that had held so much warmth and comfort and unconditional love, Branch knew he would give it all up in a heartbeat if it meant he could have one more day with the man and woman who made him into the man he’d come to be.

On paper, Grandma Addie’s estate had been dealt with a year ago. Branch could have requested time away from work and taken the time to sort through their house and belongings then. There was no reason why it couldn’t have been dealt with by now.

No reason except that it wasn’t just a bunch of tangible belongings to him. Just like Port Landon wasn’t just a town. His grandparents’ home had been his home, and everything in it was a painful reminder of what, and who, he was never going to get back. He didn’t care about the monetary value of any of it. That just wasn’t who he was, or how he was raised. He’d never required a lot of money to survive, and his job in a fly-in, fly-out remote location in Northern Alberta as a mechanical engineer gave him what he needed. Besides, his grandparents made sure he wasn’t somebody who saw money as a measure of success.

Branch didn’t want money, he wanted his family. He wanted the life he’d dreamed of right here in this house when he was a teenager, back when he thought the universe cared at all about his hopes and dreams. At the time, he didn’t think he was asking for much: a good job, a family he could support and be supported by, and a love that made the movies of Hollywood pale in comparison. At eighteen years old, he thought he was on course to have exactly that.

Then, it was all ripped from his grasp.

So, when he passed the Port Landon town limit sign, he didn’t look back.

Until now.

More than ten years ago, Branch had left the only home he’d ever really known, and now he was back. He was back, and that home was his. It was the only thing he had left.

Unlocking the front door and stepping over the threshold, he didn’t know how he was going to do it. Sort through the six decades’ worth of stuff inside his grandparents’ home. Deal with the prying eyes of everyone who passed by and offered him a fleeting glance. Most of all, he had no idea how he was going to face all the emotions and memories he had tried so hard to outrun. He had run full circle, ending up exactly where it all began.

And ended.

Somehow, Branch knew the house would be the same as the Bronco in the driveway – untouched and exactly the way he remembered it save for signs of wear and elapsed time. Grandma Addie had always been an advocate for change, and welcomed it when it came, but she had never seen the need to change something unnecessarily. Therefore, though the lights all worked and the furnishings were well maintained, most things inside the sprawling Victorian home were either antique or blatantly outdated.

As soon as he kicked off his work boots and began to dawdle slowly from one room to the next, he didn’t see it so much as felt it – the familiarity, the solace … the feeling of home. The same rush of relief spread through him that he’d felt the moment he drove into town, passing the town limit sign at a crawl. Branch might not have wanted Port Landon to be his home, but he couldn’t seem to tell his heart otherwise.

What was he going to do with this place? A thick coating of dust covered everything and there were spiderwebs strung about the corners of each room. Even the spiderwebs had dust on them. Grandma Addie would have had a conniption fit.

Thinking of her, with her easy manner and constant puttering around this big old place, caused a violent clenching in Branch’s chest. It was impossible to be here and not think of her. He had made sure to call her and check on her regularly, but Branch knew his absence had been hard on his grandmother. It had been his choice, and she never once reprimanded him for it, but he knew that Grandma Addie would have done anything to have him home more permanently. He visited as much as his work schedule allowed, sporadic visits that mostly consisted of late-night arrivals, remaining hidden inside the sanctuary of 14 Crescent Street, and disappearing again like a thief in the night the day before he was due back at work. Usually, his visits were unplanned and spontaneous; anytime he thought he heard even a hint of longing in Grandma Addie’s voice – a hint of longing that matched his own. But there was one visit a year that was always guaranteed.

Christmas.

This house had held so many massive holiday dinners that Branch had lost count. His grandparents went all-out, with Grandma Addie spearheading the huge orchestrated event. It was never simply a meal around the dining room table for a few friends and family members. Oh no, that wasn’t enough for his grandmother. Instead, there had always been an open invitation on Christmas Eve, and anyone who was around, available, with their own families or without, were welcomed to fill up the home and enjoy more homemade food, fun, and togetherness than they’d witnessed in the other three-hundred and sixty-four days of the year combined. As an adult, he had missed the Christmas Eve extravaganza every year, using work as an excuse for his late arrival long after the guests had retreated home. But as a child, he had helped his grandparents with the decorating. It took weeks to transform every room into a festive backdrop, but they’d done it. Every year, without fail.

Until last year, when his grandmother was stricken with chest pain. She’d called her next-door neighbor, who then called the ambulance once he arrived and called Branch from the hospital. Eighteen hours later, Grandma Addie passed away in her hospital room, with that neighbor by her bedside.

Four hours after that, Branch made it to the hospital, but he was too late to say goodbye. He wasn’t sure he would ever forgive himself for that.

Standing here now, knowing she was gone and she wasn’t coming back, Branch didn’t know how he was going to stand being in this house, in this town, without her. Losing Grandpa Duke had been hard enough three years ago, but at least Branch and his grandmother had each other to help themselves through it. In theory, anyway. Branch had stayed as long as he could then, as well, ultimately hightailing it back to the airport in Detroit to escape his grief and occupy himself with his career. Branch realized now that he’d left Grandma Addie to pick up the pieces of her heartbreak then just as she was leaving him to do now.

It was merely another item to add to the list of reasons he felt so guilty.

He could have stayed in Port Landon, helped both of his grandparents more as they aged, been there for them as they’d been there for him for so many years. Instead, he’d thrown himself into a job that couldn’t have been further away from home. It was the easy way out, the coward’s way out. Purely because the town that had welcomed him with open arms in the wake of his parents’ tragedy had chosen to turn its back on him. Because he’d made mistakes he would never be forgiven for.

Even as Branch thought it, he knew it wasn’t the entire truth. At eighteen, he hadn’t cared at all what everyone in Port Landon thought of him. He didn’t much care now, either, honestly. Sure, his grandparents’ opinion mattered, and he strived to make them proud – God, he hoped he had – but there was only one other person in this town whose opinion of him had mattered back then.

And she had given him no room to misread what that opinion was when she told him she hated him and didn’t ever want to see him again.

Kait.

It had been more than ten years. They had just been kids back then. But they had known love. Known it, felt it, become fevered by the all-consuming nature of it. And they had lost it amongst the destruction of his mistakes and the rumors his actions had flooded the town with.

Shaking his head, Branch moved back out to the front door where he had entered. He couldn’t think about that catastrophe, especially not on the heels of the guilt he carried about his grandmother. His failure to be the man that Kait Davenport deserved on top of the disappointment he undoubtedly caused his grandparents was too much to bear separately. Rehashing both of those shortcomings together … the weight of his guilt would drown him, for sure.

He shoved his work boots back on and headed back out to the driveway to collect his luggage from the Escape. Branch just needed to make it through December. By then, he would have his grandparents’ house sorted and cleaned, and he would have made a decision as to what to do with it before he left Port Landon. For good. He would have no reason to ever set foot in the small town again after that.

Thirty-one days. Surely he could manage to get through one month without causing anyone here any more trouble.

As quickly as the thought entered his mind, it was thwarted by a simple reality. He was pretty sure his presence alone would be enough to cause a boatload of trouble in this neighborhood. Not even a decade could change that.

Chapter 3
Kait

Kait was exhausted, and it wasn’t just from the six shifts she had worked in a row – which were definitely contributing to her burning eyes that yearned to close for a solid ten hours or so and the sluggish heaviness of her limbs that she figured had to be obvious in the way she dragged herself along from table to table instead of effortlessly bouncing from one to the next the way she normally did. No, it was also because she’d had to defend herself from the constant mention of Branch’s name since yesterday. Arnold’s faux pas had only been the beginning.

To Port Landon’s credit, no one was cruel enough to talk about her ex-boyfriend’s arrival to her face. On second thoughts, maybe it had nothing to do with social graces and everything to do with the whole lot of them being plain and simple cowards.

Because everyone was talking about Branch Sterling. At least, they were until Kait showed up. Every patron of the diner seemed to get suspiciously quiet each time she approached their table or booth, staring up into her pale jade eyes with a wide, you-caught-me expression.

She heard the whispers, the incessant buzz of gossip and chatter. It was like she had screamed at Branch only yesterday while standing in that hospital hallway, the way folks were chattering on about it. You would have thought the eleven years that had passed since were a figment of her imagination, or that their small town had come to a group decision that Kait couldn’t handle what had happened all those years ago.

Well, maybe no one else had got over their scandalous breakup, but she sure had. More than a decade had passed, and it’d passed by without the likes of Branch Sterling in it. He might have shattered her heart into a million pieces, and a friend might have been badly injured in the process, but Kait wasn’t the same woman she was at eighteen. Her eyes were wide open now, and she didn’t need Branch to be happy. She didn’t need him then, despite what she’d naively thought, and she sure didn’t need him now.

Branch Sterling was her past. Just because the folks around here didn’t want to focus on the future didn’t mean she had to follow suit.

Kait was thankful Janna wasn’t working alongside her today. They rarely worked together, as their boss was good about scheduling them on opposite shifts as much as possible in order to keep childcare costs down, but sometimes it just wasn’t possible to avoid an overlap in their work schedules. Yesterday had been the first time in months she and her sister had been paired up to take on the lunch rush. After eight constant hours of Janna’s perfectionism and overbearing demeanor, Kait felt a little guilty at how relieved she was to know it would undoubtedly be a while before the schedule called for them to work together again. Lunchtime hadn’t been as busy as expected, though, and the two women had managed to get the Christmas tree and two big boxes of decorations out of the storage room. Janna, always the one to plan and organize everything to death, had sorted the decorations into countless piles, deciding in a meticulous fashion which decorations would go where. Kait knew better than to question her reasoning. That’s why she focused on getting the ratty-looking artificial pine tree up, sticking its bent wire branches into the rickety wooden base. She half expected the poor thing to collapse the moment she started stringing garland and lights on it.

It didn’t, however, and the vintage tree was still standing tall today while she carefully hung a mismatched collection of ornaments on the branches. With only a few tables to serve and the lunch crowd now come and gone, Kait welcomed the change of pace. Janna would have had a fit if she’d seen her choosing ornaments and hanging them without a concrete color scheme or well-thought-out plan, but Kait didn’t operate like her sister did. Okay, so she would have chosen a color scheme and planned her ornamental execution a little more thoroughly if there had been a choice of ornaments that allowed for such luxuries, and if she didn’t have to stop what she was doing each time the bell above the door rang out. Besides, it was Christmas decorating, not choosing a seven-course meal for the Queen.

Kait had always been the more impractical of the two. Always the one to use her heart more than her head. As she plucked a faded plastic nutcracker from the cardboard box and looped it onto one of the branches, she could barely contain an indignant snort.

Follow your heart, they said. She’d had that phrase engrained in her by every adult she knew since she was a little girl. And look where that had got her. Still working in the same diner she’d managed to get a part-time job at back in high school, still joined at the hip with her older sister, still fending off the same unwanted affections from a friend she’d never deserved, and still wishing things had been different. She liked her job, and loved her sister and Port Landon more than words could say; she would never contest that. But Kait wished she had made different choices, with her head and not her heart. Wished that she was maybe just a bit more like Janna and that she had never met—

‘Branch.’

She had been scanning the room sporadically, making sure the two tables she was still serving – a booth near the front door and a table beside the window across the room – didn’t need her assistance. As she raised her gaze, the door swung open, the bell above it ringing sharply to announce the new patron’s arrival.

Kait was convinced she knew it was him before she consciously recognized him. Like something inside her felt his presence before her mind fully registered it. But if it wasn’t her mind that recognized him first, that only left …

Damn you, heart.

If Branch had expected to see her, he was a really good actor. Kait, however, knew him well enough to know he never could master the art of a poker face. He had never been a good liar. At least, she hadn’t thought so until she discovered the massive lies he’d managed to keep from her. She didn’t know what to think anymore.

Unfortunately, the only thing she could think about clearly at the moment was that Branch Sterling looked even more handsome than she remembered. He seemed taller, somehow, although it could have just been the way the sun’s rays were bursting through the windows, highlighting his lanky outline and making the contours of his jaw more pronounced. His jacket was thick to block out the frigid winter cold, his boots bulky and tucked under a pair of faded Levi’s. Dark curls of unruly hair peeked out from under a Lakers cap, and the beak of it cast a shadow across his dark eyes, deepening the hue from a chestnut brown to an undeniable espresso.

And those eyes were trained on her, unblinking. Round and haunted, as though he was seeing a ghost.

Kait didn’t think she looked anything like her teenage self, but she also didn’t doubt it would be a shock to see her, here, in the same uniform that hadn’t changed since the beginning of time. Her straw-colored hair was longer than she had worn it back then, but not much else had changed. She still pulled it back into a tight ponytail while at work, still refrained from wearing much in the way of makeup, and still knew the value of sturdy, although bland, footwear. She might be older, but there was enough resemblance remaining that she didn’t blame Branch for staring the way he was.

She suddenly realized she was standing there, hand suspended in mid-air, about to place an ornament on a Christmas tree she had forgotten existed. It was about the same time she noticed that a few people in the diner were staring, too.

‘You going to close that door sometime soon? You’re letting the cold in.’

Branch turned at the sound of the question, from the older man seated at the booth closest to the entrance. He let the heavy door swing shut behind him. ‘Sorry about that,’ he muttered with a curt nod. It was the only moment of reprieve Kait got from the intensity of his gaze.

‘I … didn’t know you worked here still.’ There was an apology in his tone she hadn’t asked for. Approaching her slowly, as though fearful he might spook her, Branch pulled his hat from his head, letting his wild waves spring free as he raked a hand through his hair. Yeah, he was definitely wearing it longer these days. ‘If I had known …’

He wouldn’t have come there at all? He would have shown up before now, hoping to catch even a quick glimpse of her? Kait wasn’t sure she wanted him to finish that sentence.

‘I heard you were in town.’ She was proud of herself for the lack of emotion her voice conveyed. It wasn’t a greeting, but it wasn’t a blatant dismissal, either. Just a neutral comment. Which was the complete opposite of the battle going on inside her. Kait wanted to step away from him but was also yearning to throw her arms around him and hug him tight. She wanted to scream at him and call him every name she could think of, while longing to whisper her gratitude for coming back to her after all this time. For being there, in front of her, allowing her to drink him in and remember all the promises and dreams that had once been the foundation of who they were.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. ‘Want coffee?’ She didn’t wait for him to answer, suddenly desperate to do something, anything that didn’t include standing there staring at the man who, in her eyes, was the definition of conflict and heartbreak.

‘We will,’ the man sitting closest to the front door hollered, confirming what she already expected – people were hanging on every word between her and Branch, eavesdropping, and they weren’t afraid to admit it. Kait offered him a polite smile from across the room, then left Branch standing by the front counter to refill their coffee mugs and check if they needed anything more.

Branch was perched on one of the stools when she returned to her station behind it, leaning on his elbows, jacket unzipped. His hat sat on the counter beside him. ‘Coffee sounds good.’

Pouring him one, she slid it toward him, along with a sugar dispenser.

‘Milk instead of cream, right?’ The second the words left her lips, she regretted them, hating their familiarity. They had thought they were so cool back then, drinking copious amounts of coffee, pretending to be adults. Kait had loved knowing the way her boyfriend preferred his coffee, like it was one of the little things that proved how close they were, how much she adored him.

Now, the knowledge was etched into her mind. She wished she could forget his coffee preference. Wished she could forget a lot of things.

‘Right,’ Branch confirmed, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. ‘How’ve you been, Kaitie?’

It was on the tip of her tongue to lash out at him. No one’s called me Kaitie in a long time, Branch. I’m Kait now, all grown up and not nearly as naive as you remember. She couldn’t bring herself to do it, too caught up in how the sound of that nickname made her heart beat faster. All she wanted to do was forget the way he made her feel and everything that went along with those feelings. It was really hard to do when he was her past personified, traipsing into the present and carrying with him the same soft eyes and alluring manner she had fallen for so long ago.

‘I’ve been good.’ It was the most she could commit to. The full truth would open a wound she wasn’t prepared to contend with. ‘You?’ Civility. She could give him that much without breaking the pact she’d made with her teenage self to never forgive him for what he did.

Staring down at the cup in his hands, Branch shrugged. ‘I’m all right,’ he replied. ‘Sorting through Grandma Addie’s place. Or pretending to, so far.’

He might have meant it as an attempted joke, but there was no mistaking the deep grief in his eyes at the mention of his beloved grandmother. Kait’s resolve to be merely civil went out the window.

‘I’m sorry about your grandma.’ She meant it, knowing full well how much the woman had meant to him. Grandma Addie had been just as much his mother as his grandmother, and she had never shied away from loving him like her own. ‘Must be almost a year now since she passed.’

‘A year tomorrow,’ Branch corrected, raising his gaze to meet hers. ‘And more than ten years since I’ve laid eyes on you. You look good.’

There it was. The fact that a decade spanned between them had been pushed out into the open, no longer the elephant in the room. Kait’s cheeks flamed crimson, knowing she would never have mentioned it on her own. ‘Don’t,’ she whispered, her throat suddenly thick.

He held her stare, a battle of wills. ‘Don’t what?’ He lowered his voice to match hers. No one else in the diner seemed to be paying them any mind, but the question was meant for her ears only.

‘Don’t come in here and make me want to forgive you.’

‘Kaitie, if you haven’t by now, nothing I can say is going to change that.’ His jaw clenched slightly. ‘Doesn’t make it any less good to see you, though.’

Damn you, she screamed silently. For still being you. Something was breaking inside her again, caused by the same man who had broken her once before. She could feel it. The difference this time was that Kait was pretty sure it was the armor she’d constructed around herself that was being fractured by him this time, not her heart. It was such a contradiction, the way he was able to calm her down and ease her mind with his simple kindness and affection, yet be capable of shattering her heart so irrevocably.

Well, that was just fine. Let Branch Sterling walk in here and throw his polite words and kind mannerisms around. Being civil to each other might put cracks in her defensive armor, but Kait was sure he could never do more damage than that. Not now. It had been more than ten years, and there was no reason they couldn’t handle this like adults. He might still be easy on the eyes and hold the same allure, but that was just pure and simple physical attraction combined with a healthy dose of nostalgia.

He was a man, and only a man. Not the love of her life, not the man who’d broken her heart, and not the man she had truly thought she would never see again. Just Branch, nothing more.

She would believe it if she repeated it enough times.

‘It’s good to see you, too.’ See, that was a very acceptable grown-up retort.

In the midst of taking a drink from his mug, Branch’s eyes seemed to change as he stared at her over the rim of it. When he set it down, an unmistakable grin played on his lips and he let out a soft chuckle, fidgeting with the handle of the mug.

‘Something funny?’ The sight of his genuine smile was causing her stomach to flutter.

‘It pained you to admit that.’ Branch’s smile stayed put, but he downed the last mouthful of coffee and tossed a five-dollar bill on the counter.

Okay, she obviously didn’t have much of a poker face, either. ‘Maybe I didn’t actually mean it,’ Kait replied defiantly, her chin jutting out in hopes of keeping up the pretense.

Leaning in, Branch’s dark eyes were alight with amusement. ‘You did, and so did I.’

Why couldn’t she pull her gaze away from him? Why did she feel like she had just been caught red-handed stealing from the proverbial cookie jar? And why in the world were the corners of her mouth tugging upward to match his?

Because he knew her, inside and out. She knew he knew her. She could pretend all she wanted if it made her feel better, but facts were facts. Branch knew her better than anyone else.

‘Is it okay if I come here and see you again?’ Another whisper from his lips, another question meant only for her.

Transfixed, Kait couldn’t help herself. She nodded. ‘How long are you here in town, Branch?’

‘Till the end of the month,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

She watched him reach for his hat and walk out of the diner, zipping his jacket up as he went. The bell above the door rang loud and shrill as he disappeared out into the snowy streets, but Kait didn’t feel the icy chill that wafted into the room from the opened door.

Branch was back, for the entire month of December. All she had to do was survive it. Two days down, twenty-nine to go.

Chapter 4
Branch

Branch didn’t believe in fate. How could he? He was a man who lost his parents as a kid, lost the woman he loved as a teenager, and lost the grandparents who had been his only remaining family in his late twenties.

If fate was real, it was cruel. For him, it was easier to disbelieve.

But when he strolled into that diner to get a cup of coffee to go, hat pulled down low and jacket collar tugged up to conceal his identity as much as he could, he would have believed in leprechauns that rode unicorns, or that pirates buried treasure in the harbor that ran parallel to Port Landon’s downtown. He would have believed in anything, because there was no way he could come face to face with those pretty emerald eyes and not believe in something bigger than himself.

Kait Davenport was even more breathtaking than he remembered, something he didn’t think was possible. Seeing her standing there in that pale purple uniform, her hair pulled into a tight ponytail with flyaway strands at her temples, it was like he had taken a step back in time. She could have easily passed for her eighteen-year-old self, he was sure of it. The only thing different was what he saw in her eyes. A hardness mixed with weary resignation. Like she couldn’t trust anyone around her, and she was tired of having to keep her guard up. Or tired of people proving her distrust right all the time.

He had been the first one to cause that haunted expression. Now, unexpectedly, Branch felt something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Desire. Not just in the seductive sense, though there was a need pulsing inside him to be closer to Kait, as close as he could be. One glimpse was enough to make him want her in every way imaginable, to make him remind her of what they once had. Who they’d once been.

But the desire that overwhelmed him most was the need to soften that hardness in her eyes. He might have been the cause of it once, but Branch wanted to be the one to melt it away.

When he left Port Landon more than ten years ago, there had been no chance of that happening. Kait hated him, right along with a large percentage of the rest of the town. But as surprised as he was to lay eyes on her in that diner, nothing could have prepared him for what flashed in her gaze when he asked if he could see her again.

A chance.

It was only for a second, and barely visible, but Branch saw the flash of desire that broke through her hard façade. It was the desire to let go of the pain and heartache and unhappiness that had remained in Port Landon with her when Branch hadn’t. He wasn’t naive enough to believe it meant she still loved him after all the years and all the turmoil that had passed by, but it was a chance. A miniscule sliver, maybe, but a chance, nonetheless. He would take it.

Seeing Kait seemed to light a fire in him, somehow. Not just one that burned in his chest and reminded him of who she had once been to him – and who he’d been to her – but also a fire that encouraged him to do something. Make a plan. Get things sorted. Grandma Addie wouldn’t want him sitting alone in this big old house ruminating over days gone by and holding on to all the tangible things that didn’t matter in the greater scheme of things. She had been a woman who had loved love. She knew the value of loving someone and being loved, and she made no bones about telling him, even as a kid, that the stuff we accumulated over the course of our lives meant nothing in comparison to the relationships we made. That was where we truly prospered, she said, not in the collection of money and things, but in the accumulation of memories and experiences with those we loved and cherished.

It turned out he had been listening to all those late-night lectures she’d given, after all.

First things first. After his impromptu trip to the diner to seek out coffee, Branch hit up the grocery store and restocked the fridge. He was going to be around for the next month, so he needed to start acting like it. Food, cleaning products, and a copy of this week’s Port Landon Ledger. He needed some updated information on this town, even if the town wasn’t as willing to glean updated information on him. Planning to read through the paper that night, he tossed it near Grandpa Duke’s armchair. The man had been gone four years, but it would always be his chair to Branch.

His burst of renewed energy came to a crashing halt when he bravely swung the attic ladder down from the ceiling and slid the latches into place to secure it. One look at the piles of boxes and totes amongst the mysterious piles covered in dusty sheets and Branch wished he’d never popped his head into the attic in the first place. Cobwebs hung in long, thick linear patterns, and dust floated through the air in a speckled pattern where the sun’s rays struggled to shine through the grime-coated window at the other end of the room.

‘It’s just stuff, right, Grandma?’ he muttered, scanning the mess. ‘A whole lot of stuff.’ He could almost hear her throaty chuckle and see the deep crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes as they squinted, glinting with amusement at his reaction to the mountains of boxes.

Not for the first time, he wished she was there. He wished anyone was there. Knowing he had help to sort through this would certainly ease the burden a bit. And the loneliness.

Maybe it was better to start off smaller, take on the task of sorting through his grandfather’s magazine racks downstairs instead. He could tackle this hoard of antiques and mementos another day.

Then, he saw it.

‘No way.’ Being careful where he stepped in case of weakened floorboards or unseen hazards, Branch crawled up into the attic and made his way across the dimly lit room. The obstacle course of piles and sheet-covered furniture left him panting in the stale air by the time he reached it, but as he ran his palm over the metal backboard of the basketball net, a different sense of nostalgia hit him like a lethal ocean wave.

Port Landon was home, he reminded himself, his fingers tangling in the frayed net. Even if it isn’t now, it was. Once. He had a life here, then. Family. Friends. All of which he had essentially hidden from each time he swooped into town under the shadowed veil of night-time and left just as quickly as he showed up. But there had been more to his childhood and teenage years than the fateful debacle that turned his name into a curse word amongst the community.

Branch wiped a hefty coat of dust from the basketball net and awkwardly managed to get it down the attic stairs without breaking it or his neck. Suddenly, he knew exactly where to start when it came to getting things sorted.

Branch had to keep reminding himself that more than a decade had passed. Somehow, Port Landon looked exactly the same as he remembered. The postcard-like beauty surrounded him everywhere he turned. The tiny town was cloaked under a thick blanket of snow, with Christmas lights and decorations accenting every wrought iron streetlamp or porch railing. The sight was picturesque and festive, reminding him that he was just as much a part of it as the town was a part of him.

It might have felt different to him, but it looked like the same small town he grew up in and reeled him in the way only a hometown could do.

Perhaps that meant it was him who had changed instead, viewing it with warier, pessimistic eyes.

As he pulled up in front of it, Branch took in the brick bungalow with slight trepidation. He had spent many evenings and weekends in this yard. He’d probably logged just as many hours and weeks and years at the Forresters’ house as he had at his grandparents’ if he added them up. The house matched his memory of it. The Christmas lights were even strung across the eaves and down the columns on either side of the front step the same way they had been decorated when he was a kid.

It’s me that’s different, he reminded himself. And it was him that had chosen not to contact his friends after he left. He hoped Jason’s parents still owned the house, and that they would be forgiving enough to at least tell him where Jason lived now. Whether Jason was in town or not, Branch had left his grandparents’ house five minutes ago vowing to make contact with one of his old friends. If it had to be via phone, he would call, but Branch was determined to try to track him down.

The driveway was newly plowed, and a blue Dodge Ram sat in the driveway. Branch was half expecting to see Jason’s mom’s old silver Corolla sitting beside it, but, of course, that car was probably in a scrapyard somewhere by now.

Snow covered the lawn, and the windowsills had inches of ice packed into the corners. A shovel was propped up beside the front door, at the ready. Holding his breath, Branch grabbed the brass door knocker and slapped it down a few times, the sound loud and obnoxious in the chilly silence of the residential street.

The door opened quickly enough that Branch wondered if the man who opened it had been standing on the other side, waiting for him.

The wide eyes that greeted him confirmed that wasn’t the case.

‘Sterling, is that you?’

Jason Forrester was no longer the lanky teenager waiting to grow into his gangly limbs and deep voice. The man could have been a linebacker with those broad shoulders and his thick, muscular build. His close-cropped black hair and dark eyes revealed his identity, though. From the nose up, Branch would have recognized his childhood friend anywhere.

‘I could ask you the same thing, Jay.’

‘Well, I’ll be.’ The hug he wrapped Branch in was strong and sincere. Whatever reservations Branch had about coming here, they were laid to rest in an instant. ‘Come on in. It’s too cold to be standing out there.’

The interior of the house came as a shock to him. As Branch shuffled out of his coat and boots at the entryway, he took in the neutral colors on the walls and the leather couch and loveseat in the living room. From his vantage point, he could see through to the kitchen, now lined with modern white cupboards and a small pub-style table and chairs. It was a stark contrast to the melamine and aluminum he remembered. So, some things did change in Port Landon, then.

‘You still living here with your mom and dad?’ The question was out of his mouth before Branch fully thought it through. If Jason was offended, he didn’t show it as he pulled two colas from the fridge and offered him one.

‘I can tell it isn’t just me you haven’t spoken to since we were teenagers,’ he laughed. ‘I bought the place from my parents when they moved into North Springs.’

‘Wow, never thought your parents would leave Port Landon.’

Jason gestured toward the leather couch. ‘Mom has glaucoma and can’t drive anymore, so they bought an apartment there. Closer to more amenities.’ He lowered himself onto the loveseat. ‘I never thought you’d show back up here. Especially on my doorstep.’

‘I should’ve paid you a visit long before now,’ Branch admitted, sheepish. ‘I’m sorry, Jay.’

Jason regarded his soda can absently. ‘Word got around you were in town a few times over the years,’ he explained. ‘And I knew you were here for Grandma Addie’s funeral, but by then I didn’t know if you wanted to see any of us or not.’

She was Grandma Addie to everyone, and Branch’s grandmother would have gladly taken in every one of his friends as honorary grandchildren if she had the chance. Which only made Branch’s chest tighten more. ‘That’s why you weren’t at the funeral. Because you didn’t think I would want you there?’ His friend didn’t have to answer. The truth shadowed his gaze.

‘We didn’t want to make it harder for you.’

He’d spent those few days in a grief-stricken haze, but Branch remembered vividly wishing he had friends left to stand beside him as he said his final goodbyes to the woman who’d raised him like a son. It made so much sense now that he was sitting here, face to face with the man who had been his friend for more years than he realized. A man who’d been his friend even when Branch thought he didn’t have any friends left.

‘I’m sorry I made you think you shouldn’t come to the funeral,’ Branch choked out. Clearing his voice, he set the soda down, fearful he would drop it. ‘She would’ve wanted you there,’ he added. ‘I wanted you there. I’m sorry, Jay.’

Jason nodded. He knew that. He had always been the level-headed and forgiving one in their group. ‘I got to see her over the years. She was aware that she was family in my eyes, too. I’ve got no regrets, man.’

Of course he didn’t. Jason Forrester had lived by the motto that life was too short to regret the past and dwell on what couldn’t be changed. Branch had always wished he was a little more like his friend. Probably now more than ever.

‘You can’t say the same.’ It wasn’t a question, but Jason wasn’t reprimanding him or judging him, either.

‘Nah, I suppose I can’t,’ Branch replied. ‘Looking back on it all now, I know I could have handled it all differently. But when everyone started to turn against me—’

‘No one turned against you,’ Jason cut in. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. ‘At least, not everyone. I’ll bet that’s how it felt, but everyone didn’t turn against you after the accident. Kait did. But to you, Kait was everyone back then.’

‘Things were never going to be the same for me here after that,’ Branch explained. ‘It didn’t matter what was true and what wasn’t. I was always going to be the kid that hit one of Port Landon’s own with my truck.’

Jason sighed, letting his head sag slightly. ‘Man, you were eighteen and you weren’t paying attention. And frankly, the guy’s still walking around town acting like he’s king of the world, so I really think you need to give yourself a break. It was what, ten years ago?’

‘Eleven.’ It had been an accident, pure and simple. A fleeting moment of preoccupation, too concerned about getting an intoxicated schoolmate home, too caught up in his own thoughts to fully take in his surroundings. Nothing would have ever led Branch to purposely use his vehicle as a weapon, though. Nothing. ‘I was stone cold sober, man. I have no idea what he was doing behind my pickup, but I did not hit him on purpose, and I was not drunk.’

‘I believed you then, and I believe you now.’ Jason took a long drink from his soda and set it down on the coffee table. ‘If it’s forgiveness you’re looking for from me, there’s nothing for me to forgive you for. Maybe you should try forgiving yourself for a change.’

Branch didn’t know if that was possible, but knowing he had a friend now, after all these years, went a long way in helping him feel better about being back in town. ‘So, we’re good, you and I?’

A slow grin spread across his friend’s face. ‘We’ve been good all this time. All you had to do was show up so I could tell you.’ Jason picked his soda can up and held it out toward Branch, humor alight in his eyes. ‘Next time things go south around here, do me a favor and don’t run north. Deal?’

Branch couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips. ‘Deal. So, you know I work up north, then. In Canada.’

‘Grandma Addie went on and on about it. She didn’t like that you were gone for such long periods of time or that the area was remote as all get out, but she was sure to let everybody know that you were some hotshot engineer in northern Canada.’

That sounded about right. Leave it to his grandmother to make a remote area in the most northern part of Alberta sound glamorous. It was anything but, and far enough north that the best way to access it was by airplane, but he was paid well for his time. The two-weeks-on, two-weeks-off schedule wasn’t for the faint of heart, but the seclusion had been exactly what he’d been looking for when he left.

‘It’s a good gig,’ he replied, nodding. ‘And they’ve been good about giving me some time off to deal with Grandma Addie’s place.’

‘So, you’re here for a while?’

‘Until the end of the month.’

‘You’ll be around for Christmas. It’ll almost be like old times,’ Jason laughed.

Almost. Branch caught that part. Because this time there was no Grandma Addie to pull off the festivities and be the glue that held them together. This time, it was just Branch, with a ticking time clock that reminded him he would be leaving again in a matter of weeks. This time, he didn’t know if he would be coming back to Port Landon.

He sunk back into the couch cushions, getting comfortable. ‘Never took you for a holiday kind of guy.’

His friend shrugged. ‘I’m more of a Halloween kind of man, myself, but there isn’t a person in their right mind who’s going to turn down the homemade food that comes once folks start getting that Christmas spirit.’

A laugh erupted from Branch, and he shook his head. He missed this. Having someone to talk to. About nothing. About everything. In a way, it was as though no time had passed at all since they had last seen each other. An easy silence ensued, and he could feel the tension subsiding in his shoulders.

‘I saw her, you know.’ Branch didn’t realize he was smiling until Jason’s eyebrows arched. ‘At the diner.’

‘I don’t see a black eye, so neither of the Davenport women punched you first and asked questions later.’ Jason pressed his lips together.

‘Janna works there, too, now?’ Kait’s older sister hadn’t liked him before the accident. Afterward, her dislike turned into full-fledged disgust. ‘I didn’t see her, just Kait.’

‘Imagine that, you only seeing Kait in a room full of people,’ Jason joked. ‘Some things never change.’

‘It wasn’t like that,’ he argued, leaning forward to match his friend’s stance. ‘Things were different, obviously. But they were the same between us, too, if that makes sense.’ He raised his head and met Jason’s eyes squarely. ‘I don’t think it’s over, Jay.’

Jason’s eyes bulged and he let out a long breath. ‘Eleven years, Branch. Remember that. What in the world makes you think it’s not over?’

He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was something in the way Kait had tried so hard – too hard – to be defiant and distant. She was trying and failing, just like he was trying and failing to keep from loving her all over again. ‘Call it a gut feeling.’

Jason was obviously attempting to make him see how outlandish his train of thought was. ‘You haven’t seen her since you were a teenager, and you’re telling me, after one glimpse, you think she’ll take you back?’

‘I think there’s too much between us not to at least try.’

‘You always were a hard-headed one,’ Jason snickered. ‘Especially when it came to her.’

‘Like you said, she didn’t punch me or send her older sister after me, so I’ve got a thread of hope to hold on to.’ Branch downed the last of his soda, unable to hide his smirk.

‘That isn’t a thread of hope, man, that’s just proof of what I said earlier.’

Branch’s eyebrows furrowed. ‘What do you mean?’

Jason stood, taking the empty can from him. ‘Even Kait’s forgiven you for hitting Zach with your truck. It’s time for you to forgive yourself and move forward.’

Chapter 5
Kait

‘I don’t believe a thing that comes out of his mouth, Kait.’

‘I know.’ She huffed out a sigh. ‘You’ve said so five times since you sat down.’

Kait finished adding up the bill in front of her and pushed the calculator back under the counter. Using it as an excuse for a moment’s reprieve, she placed it into a vinyl check holder along with a couple of after-dinner mints and headed to the table by the window to drop it off, leaving Zach sitting at the counter to cool down.

She knew he wasn’t thrilled to know Branch was back in town. She couldn’t blame him considering their sordid past. She wasn’t even sure why she had mentioned speaking with him yesterday. Branch Sterling had never been Zach’s favorite topic of conversation, unless he was belittling him or reminding Kait of what he’d done to her. And what he’d done to him.

Like she could ever forget. Vivid recollections of the months that followed the accident were never far from her mind. She might not have been the one behind the steering wheel, but Kait harbored acidic guilt just the same. She hadn’t even been at the party that night, and she certainly hadn’t witnessed the event that left Zach with a fractured leg and countless bruises. It didn’t matter. She would never forget Zach’s emotional retelling of what should have been an innocent celebration of their upcoming graduation, his words so clear that her memory played tricks on her sometimes, as though she was plagued by her own memories and not the recounting of someone else’s.

The heated exchange between Branch and Zach. The way Branch had slammed the passenger door of his truck, so frustrated and final before he climbed into the driver’s seat. Before he revved the engine and threw the truck in reverse …

She could see it all so clearly even though she had never seen it at all. Each time she thought of it, her mind struggled to pair Branch’s face with the man who got into that driver’s seat. It just wasn’t the Branch Sterling she’d known, or the Branch Sterling she’d loved.

And still, it had happened. Which was why Kait had remained by Zach’s side and helped him in every way she could, from physiotherapy to mundane errands, to the point of fatigue and burnout. She couldn’t do enough for him after seeing what her love for Branch had ultimately put him through.

Still, after vowing to be there for Zach and see him through his recovery, there was one thing she would never be able to do for him despite her best efforts. With all their time together and close proximity while he healed, Zach’s feelings for Kait only flourished. And while she wanted to feel as strongly for him as he did for her, that overpowering sense of love and companionship never bloomed. A year passed by before they attempted to formally date, and it took two more for her to admit it to herself, but Kait would never be capable of loving Zach the way he deserved to be loved.

‘I’ll bet he knew you were here at the diner all along,’ he suggested before Kait could even make it back around the counter. ‘Next, he’ll be saying the stars aligned and the heavens opened, revealing his path to you.’

She offered him a levelled stare. ‘You’re being dramatic.’

‘The guy hit me with a truck after warning me to stay away from you. Doesn’t get any more dramatic than that.’

Fighting back the urge to cringe, Kait focused on reorganizing the menus instead of having to meet his gaze. ‘I know, Zach.’ It’s the gazillionth time you’ve mentioned that to me, too. ‘I just think it’s time to stop being so angry, you know? Years have passed. He seems … different.’ She didn’t know how to explain it. There was something in Branch’s eyes that not only proved he wasn’t feigning his utter surprise at the sight of her, but also hinted of a maturity far beyond the mere decade that spanned between their teenage years and now.

Branch Sterling wasn’t even thirty yet, but he had lost everything and everyone who had meant something to him at one point in his young life or another. Some losses were the result of his teenage antics, but most were tragic, painful, crushing blows that the average person wouldn’t survive unscathed individually, let alone combined. And yet, he was here, back in town, and facing every demon he had.

She wondered if she was one of them.

Zach scoffed. ‘Come on, you know better. He isn’t different. You just want him to be.’ She turned and glared at him, causing Zach to reach out a hand and grip her fingers in his. ‘I don’t mean that as a bad thing,’ he added in a softer tone. ‘It’s your nature. You see the good in everyone. You’re a nurturer, and you always want to help. But, Kait, some people can’t be helped.’

It was a strange feeling to have someone conjure up defeat and molten determination in her at the same time. Defeat, because she would never get through to Zach and his pent-up rage where Branch was concerned, but also determination, because she wanted desperately for Branch to prove him wrong.

‘It’s been eleven years.’ She sounded wilted and weak, and the words came out on a sigh.

‘It has,’ he replied, ‘And we’ve moved on from all things revolving around Branch Sterling. By the end of the month, we can go back to our lives and pretend like he was never here at all.’

Slowly, Kait withdrew her hand from his. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at him, and she certainly didn’t agree with him.

Something strong and undeniable pulsed within her, something she had once thought dormant. And that something told her, now that Branch was back in town, things were never going to be the same again.

Kait was disappointed that Janna and their coworker, Eve, had finished decorating the Christmas tree during the morning shift. Even the sparkly red and green garlands had been meticulously strung across the front of the counter and around the trim of the main door. She didn’t dare touch the box of remaining Christmas decorations that had been shoved under the counter by her feet with a handwritten sign in Janna’s recognizable scrawl that read Don’t touch! Her sister’s need for control knew no bounds.

It left Kait with little left to occupy herself once Natasha, the other waitress who rounded out their four-person waitstaff team extraordinaire, had left for the evening. The clock hadn’t even struck seven o’clock yet. There was still more than an hour to go before she could lock the doors, finish cleaning the front of the restaurant, and head home to the three-bedroom house she rented with Janna and her twins.

Kait didn’t do idle well. Sitting down, relaxing, giving herself a moment to breathe … that only resulted in letting her thoughts take over and leaving her with more frustration than resolution. It was better that she remained occupied, doing even the most repetitive, mundane tasks in order to keep her body moving and her mind busy. At the diner, that meant unnecessary cleaning and reorganizing. At home, well, there was never any chance of quiet time with a pair of two-year-old twin boys around.

On second thought, maybe she should take the opportunity of a five-minute break for what it was. A gift.

Her one and only table, a couple with a young boy, gave her a thumbs-up from across the room after she held up the coffee pot in askance, so Kait went ahead and poured herself a full cup. Coffee in the evening – a recipe for a poor night’s sleep if she ever heard one.

Sliding into the booth closest to the counter, she had a clear view of the door and a cozy spot near the heat register beside her feet. Her comfortable moment to herself was thwarted a few seconds later when the front door swung open and her clear view suddenly became less than ideal.

There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide while she made a futile attempt at composing herself. Her wide gaze landed on Branch at the same moment his locked on her.

‘Back again,’ she teased, holding out a sliver of hope that she sounded more nonchalant than she suddenly felt. She moved her foot beneath the table to see if the heat had kicked on in order to explain the immediate uptick in warmth around her. It hadn’t. ‘Don’t know if there’s an available table for you.’

Branch didn’t bother to look around at the slew of vacant tables. He stayed focused on Kait as a slow, mischievous grin spread across his face. ‘Good thing I don’t mind sharing.’

He slid in across from her, hands still shoved in his jacket pockets to stave off the icy cold that lingered on him.

She thought of telling him she wasn’t interested in sharing anything with him, not even a table in an empty diner, but Kait didn’t trust herself to sound convincing. Instead, she began to shuffle out of the booth. ‘Let me get you a coffee.’

Branch reached his hand out so fast she didn’t realize he’d moved until his fingertips were pressed gently into her wrist.

‘I’ve got it.’

He slid out of the booth instead, shuffling out of his jacket before he stretched his body across the top of the counter and dipped his hand under it to pull a white china mug from the rack. Coffee pot in one hand, mug in the other, he came back to the table with a wry smile. ‘Everything’s still in the exact same spot.’

‘Some things never change.’

‘Obviously.’

It was one word, a simple answer. But Kait didn’t know if it was meant to pack the weight it did as it hit her in the chest, or if her reaction was merely her own over-analyzing brain thinking he was referring to something he wasn’t.

Smirking, Branch stole fleeting glances at her as he poured his coffee then went about putting the pot back. Kait wondered if he could hear her racing thoughts, somehow.

She stood up again. ‘There’s only creamer on the table—’

‘Kait,’ Branch laughed, holding up a hand, ‘It’s fine. Will you please sit down and relax? I’m starting to think you’re trying to find an escape route from me.’

‘No, it’s not like that,’ she argued. Was it?

‘Then, just sit and enjoy your coffee that you obviously don’t need.’ He went about adding sugar and cream to his cup. ‘Also, I do still prefer milk, but cream isn’t that bad, either. You’d be surprised what you can get used to when you have to drink whatever swill they pass off as coffee at a mining camp for weeks at a time.’

‘That’s right, you have a fancy job title at a mine up in Canada, huh?’

‘Grandma Addie’s words, I take it?’ Branch chuckled, shrugging. ‘But, yeah, I guess I do. It’s the same place I went to work when …’ He paused and cleared his throat. ‘When I left here,’ he finished. ‘I’ve just got the education needed to work my way up since then.’

Sheepish, she wondered what he had been about to say the first time. When their lives fell apart? When she told him to leave and never come back?

‘And now you’re an engineer,’ she replied. She couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud, but she was so proud of him for succeeding.

Branch nodded. ‘It’s far from glamorous, and I’m gone a lot, but yeah, I’ve got a good job.’

‘And now you’ve got a house and vehicles, too.’ The corner of her mouth twitched, but Kait was sad for him. What it must be like to have to sift through all the things in his grandparents’ home and try to decide what to do with them, especially now that he was the only one left to do it. What it must be like to have only tangible things in place of an entire family. ‘Make any headway?’

An indignant snort was his initial response. ‘I found one of my basketball nets in the attic, does that count?’

Whatever Kait had expected, it wasn’t that. Laughter burst from her mouth. Thank goodness she hadn’t had a mouthful of coffee. ‘I shouldn’t be surprised. And is that what you did all day, then, shoot hoops?’

‘I said I found the net,’ he repeated. ‘No ball, though.’

More laughter bubbled up, and she shook her head. ‘Can’t very well use one without the other, I suppose.’

‘It’s a mess in there, Kait. I’m serious.’ Branch looked uncomfortable having to admit it, and Kait knew why. Grandma Addie had always taken great pride in keeping a tidy and organized home. The house was well lived-in, but everything had a place, and everything was put back in that place when they were done with it. ‘I don’t remember the attic being that full of stuff, but it’s full. Jam-packed. That means that the areas I do remember being full to the brim, like the linen closets and the garage and basement, are even worse than I remember, too.’

She could only imagine the mountain of memories he was going to have to contend with while trying to decide what to do with everything. Having the rest of the month to deal with it sounded feasible, but Kait knew it was going to be difficult. Especially by himself.

‘Have you decided what you’re going to do?’ She couldn’t stop the question from passing her lips. ‘With the house and whatnot?’

His answer came without hesitation. ‘No idea.’ Letting out a long breath, he leaned back. ‘Sell it, maybe? I don’t know, I can’t imagine what good it would do for me to keep it.’

And I can’t imagine what it would be like if someone other than your family owned it. She would never say it to him, but there was no way she could picture Addie’s house being someone else’s. ‘It can’t be that awful to think about actually keeping it, can it?’

Without pinpointing what changed or how, Kait saw Branch’s expression transform from a forlorn resignation into a piqued curiosity. His eyebrows didn’t raise in askance, and his gaze didn’t narrow or widen, but there was a question in his eyes, nonetheless, as he set his mug down. ‘It isn’t, no,’ he replied cautiously. ‘But I didn’t think there was anyone here who would care whether I did or didn’t.’

He didn’t think she would care, that was what he was really getting at.

‘Well, maybe you’re wrong.’ They were on dangerous ground. The stones at the edge of the cliff she was standing on were chipping away in shards and dust. Soon, she would have no choice but to admit to him – and to herself – that she was over the moon about having him back in town. A lot of people in town would be thrilled, even if Branch didn’t realize it. It had taken years for him to return, and Kait wasn’t sure she was ready to give him up again at the end of the month.

The cliff hadn’t given way yet, however. Kait swallowed hard. ‘Take it one step at a time,’ she said, hoping to get the conversation back into a safer territory. ‘Focus on sorting through things, one room at a time. Keep what you want and need to keep, and donate whatever you’re willing to part with. But don’t stress over it. Worst-case scenario, you don’t finish by the end of December and you have to come back.’

‘Yeah,’ he said slowly. ‘Worst-case scenario.’ Those dark eyes that Kait used to get lost in when she was eighteen squinted as he stared at her, like he was trying to see her more clearly, trying to understand what she wasn’t saying out loud. ‘Better be careful with your advice, Davenport, or I might be forced to recruit your help purely based on your enthusiasm.’

His taunting manner caused Kait to raise her hands. ‘Hey, sounds better than the standing plans I have with a set of toddler twins,’ she laughed.

Branch’s mouth gaped. ‘Toddler … twins?’

‘Janna’s two boys,’ Kait chuckled. ‘Not mine.’ She laughed even harder at the relief that washed over him. ‘I live with her, to help her out.’

Branch let out a heavy breath, pressing his hands against the table. ‘I really thought I was missing a vital piece of information there for a second.’

‘Oh, please,’ Kait snickered, waving a hand. ‘The only sordid history I’ve got is you.’

It was the first time she had mentioned their past and put a humorous spin on it. Ever. The joke at his expense might have caught him off guard, but as Branch took in her faint smirk, he recognized it for what it really was – the beginnings of a truce.

‘Touché.’ He leaned in closer, crossing his arms in front of him. ‘So, does that mean you’re in?’

‘In what?’

‘Help me,’ he requested softly. ‘With sorting through Grandma Addie’s house.’

Kait’s head snapped back as though she had been slapped. ‘You can’t be serious.’

‘Why not? You just said it sounds like more fun than hanging out with Janna’s kids, and you knew Grandma Addie better than almost anyone. She loved you.’

She held her breath. She wasn’t the only one who’d loved Kait back then. ‘I … don’t think that’s a good idea.’

‘Maybe not,’ Branch said, ‘but I would still love it if you’d give it a chance. Besides, if it turns out bad, I’ll be gone in a month.’

That’s what I’m afraid of.

Zach was right about her. Maybe it was her nature to want to see the good in everyone. And maybe she was a nurturer, always wanting to help. But that wasn’t what this was about. Branch Sterling had no one left in Port Landon. Was some of that his own doing? Sure. But in the wake of his grandmother’s passing, there was no one left he felt close to.

No one except her. And it was Christmas-time. No one should spend Christmas alone.

‘As friends.’ It wasn’t a question, and she thankfully was able to get it out without it sounding like one.

Branch’s hands came up in mock surrender. ‘Friends.’

In what might have been her biggest lapse of judgment since falling in love with him during their teenage years in the first place, Kait nodded. ‘I’m only agreeing to this because the idea of a break from the twins with terrible-twos sounds like a fairytale right now.’

Branch’s eyes lit up, rivalling the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree. ‘I don’t care why you’re doing it, Kaitie, just that you are.’

Something fluttered wildly in her belly seeing that kind of anticipation in his eyes. Hearing that kind of wistful reassurance in his voice as he said her name. It was a recipe for disaster, and yet Kait was looking forward to it. But her eagerness was only due to the temporary break from the mundane routine her life had become. It had nothing to do with what she felt for Branch Sterling.

Then, or now.

Chapter 6
Branch

Branch awoke the next morning with multiple folks’ voices ringing in his ears.

He heard Jason suggesting that Kait had forgiven him so perhaps it was time to forgive himself. He heard Kait’s pretty voice saying it was good to see him while nodding her agreement to seeing him again. And, amid those voices was Grandma Addie, loud and clear.

You kids are so young to be capable of lovin’ each other that deep. His grandmother had spoken those words so many times over the course of his life he had lost count, both during his and Kait’s courtship and long after its demise.

Not once had she ever said they were too young to feel that way, or too naive in their belief that it was real. Grandma Addie knew better. She had run off and married Grandpa Duke at the tender age of seventeen. She knew a thing or two about real, lifelong love.

She also never changed that statement to past tense after Kait ended things with him following the accident. Love didn’t end just because we told it to. Just because we wanted it to, or needed it to.

This morning, as Branch climbed out of the double bed in his childhood bedroom, those words were catapulting through his brain on an endless loop. That was when he knew for certain.

The love he harbored for Kait Davenport wasn’t some separate entity he had left behind when he escaped Port Landon, and it wasn’t something the last eleven years had chipped away at until only dust remained. What he felt for her was still very much real, and very much a part of him.

It was also still very much a part of Kait. The war he saw raging within that green gaze when he first walked into the diner proved she was struggling with it, too. And as much as knowing some part of her still loved him elated Branch, it also fueled sadness at knowing they had wasted so much precious time. He found solace in the realization that neither distance nor years had been strong enough to weaken their bond, however.

He had been determined to see her, then. Kait had given him permission the day before to visit the diner again, and it had taken him all day to do the laundry and cleaning needed to have a tidy bedroom to sleep in, taking care to avoid delving too deeply into the stuff still piled in his closet and dressers. He knew he would find mementos of who he and Kait had once been together in a battered shoebox in the bottom of his closet. Old pictures, folded notes, the burned CDs they used to make for each other of their favorite songs, the concert tickets from the time they snuck into Detroit to see Our Lady Peace’s live show and got grounded for weeks … it was all there, all saved so he could remember.

Like he could ever forget.

He hadn’t been prepared to face that shoebox, and he didn’t have time to give it the time and attention it deserved, anyway. He made sure all the mandatory chores of the day were accomplished before he allowed himself the break needed to make good on his promise to see her again. It took him just as long to work up the courage.

He hadn’t expected her to be on a break, by herself. Or sitting alone in that booth with worn vinyl seats and a marred melamine table, coffee cup squeezed between her hands.

And he certainly hadn’t expected her to agree to partner up with him and take on the organization of his grandparents’ Victorian home. Kait’s words were clear despite the tremor she spoke them with; she didn’t think it was a good idea. And yet, there had been no denying the glint of joy that reflected in her eyes. Whether that was from being able to spend time with him, or merely being able to have a conversation with someone who wasn’t a toddler, a family member, or a paying customer awaiting her to serve their food, he didn’t care.

Because Kait was willing to share her time with him, despite everything. And by the time he laid his head down again that night, Grandma Addie’s words whispered through his mind once more. Present tense. You kids are so young to be capable of lovin’ each other that deep.

Age had nothing to do with it. Neither did capability. Kait Davenport had been his first love. His only love. And that love remained, still deep and still real. He was smiling when sleep pulled him into slumber.

Snow drifted in softly floating flecks, somersaulting lazily in the late morning air. A gray cloak veiled the sky, but the accumulated snow that covered everything gave the illusion of a brighter day than it truly was. Or maybe the brightness was seen through Branch’s eyes only, tinting everything he saw with more vividness and sparkle.

He refused to let today go to waste, and his renewed vitality aided him in not only dusting and mopping the entire main floor of the massive house, but he also cleaned the inside of the windows by hand, wiping the dirt and dust from the panes and sills to let the natural light in, unobstructed. By the time his stomach was growling for sustenance, he was convinced there was nothing he couldn’t do within the walls of his grandparents’ home. This place would be gleaming again by the time he was done with it.

Can I really, truly be done with it? Just thinking about letting the house go hit him like a punch to the gut.

He needed food. Then, maybe he could curb the life-changing questions that threatened to diminish his new-found organizational groove. Desperate for fifteen minutes without having to witness the disarray around him, he headed for the door. Kait might have said she wasn’t scheduled at the diner today, but Port Landon’s downtown beckoned to him like an old friend. Main Street held everything a person could need in a pinch, including hot coffee and a quick bite to eat. He would take his moment of reprieve there.

Swinging the door open, work boots tied and jacket zipped up, he jumped back. ‘Son of a—’

‘Whoa!’ Jason’s hand was still outstretched, ready to knock.

‘Jay, I didn’t expect you to be standing there.’ Branch was far too used to spending his time alone.

Jason was bundled up just as warmly, a gray wool toque pulled down over his ears and a thick black coat and matching gloves covering his upper body. ‘So much for a friendly greeting,’ he breathed out, the air puffing out in a white fog in front of him. ‘Where are you headed like the place is on fire?’

‘Downtown. I need a break and something to eat. You in?’

‘My truck’s already running and warm. I’ll drive.’

The blue Dodge sat idling in the driveway, and after locking the front door behind him, Branch hopped in. The blast of warm air from the dashboard vents was welcomed despite his short trek from the house to the vehicle. ‘What brings you by?’

Jason headed toward Main Street, fiddling with the dials to make the fans blow the heat at them in more furious gusts. ‘Thought you might need some help, and I was off work today.’

‘Appreciate it. You working in town?’

Jason offered him a sideways glance. ‘I own the old Robinson’s Auto. It’s called Forrester’s Auto now, though.’

‘No way.’ First he had suggested his friend still lived with his parents, then he’d failed to ask him about his employment. Branch wasn’t doing a very good job as a friend, even an old one. ‘Wife and kids I should know about, too, or do the surprises end there?’

Jason’s mouth twitched, but his eyes stayed focused out the windshield as he pulled down the visor in front of him to reveal a wallet-sized picture of a brunette little girl with curly pigtails. ‘A daughter, Carlie. She’s four. But she lives with her mama in North Springs. I see her every second weekend, though.’

‘Wow, awesome. She’s cute, man.’ Even if he hadn’t seen Jason’s face, he heard the tinge of sadness in his tone. There was a story there, one Branch wasn’t sure his friend wanted to get into. They chatted easily on the way, and Branch managed to tell him about Kait’s agreement to help him with the house at the perfect moment, able to put off his friend’s reply by following his confession with a question of his own. ‘Why are we parking here?’ The diner was on the other side of the street, yet Jason steered the truck into a spot nowhere near the diner despite the available parking spots all around them.

Jason turned the key, killing the engine. ‘You can go to the diner to see Kait to your heart’s content, my friend, but if it’s good coffee you want, the Portside Coffeehouse is where you want to be.’

‘Is that so?’ Intrigued, Branch followed his childhood friend inside, vaguely remembering the coffeeshop from when he’d lived here. If his memory served him right, the coffeehouse had only been a new venture in town back then. Or relatively new. He couldn’t remember. Probably because his teenage brain had only ever had room for one thing and one thing only. Or, more accurately, one person.

The Portside Coffeehouse was obviously the place to be, even when it was frigid outside. Judging by the number of folks filling up the booths and bistro tables, they thought that the extra effort it took to shovel their way out of their homes to get here was worth it. As Branch took in the trendy brick walls, the smooth instrumental Christmas tunes that floated amongst the patrons’ chatter, and the easy, warm atmosphere created by the large electric fireplace with flickering flames on the far side of the room, he hoped it was worth it. The place was cool, giving off vibes of comfort and ease. He could get used to this.

‘The usual,’ Jason said, smiling at the woman behind the counter.

With long auburn hair and a simple pairing of a T-shirt with the coffeehouse’s logo on it and jeans, she was pretty in a natural kind of way. The genuine grin she responded with only enhanced her beauty.

‘You got it, Jason,’ the woman stated. ‘And your friend?’ It was like the woman never stopped moving, and never stopped smiling. There was no question about it, she loved her job.

Before he could respond, Jason beat him to it. ‘Just make it two, Allison. Better keep it simple. Branch, here, is a newbie.’

Allison’s hands never stopped moving, but something changed in her eyes as she regarded Branch with a renewed interest. ‘Branch, huh? You’re Addie’s grandson.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ Branch nodded. The woman looked to be only a few years older than he was, but he had a funny feeling she knew him better than he knew her. Polite was the way to go.

‘My condolences about your grandmother,’ she replied. ‘This town lost one of the best when we lost her. Christmas won’t be the same around here.’

‘Thank you.’ If Branch was going to start being social around town like this instead of hiding away in the house as he had originally planned, he was going to need to harden himself to the constant mentions and reminders of his grandparents. He gladly took the coffee cup when it was offered, nodding his gratitude.

‘My treat.’ Jason handed over a five-dollar bill, waving Allison away when she tried to give him change. ‘You know better than to try. Tell Chris I said hey, will you?’

‘You bet.’ She pushed the bill into the cash register. ‘Be sure to take your friend to Paige’s, too. Give him the full Port Landon culinary-and-caffeine experience.’ She tilted her head toward the wall behind her, but her gaze never seemed to stray far from Branch.

‘It’s like you’re reading my mind.’ Jason laughed, giving her a wave on his way out.

On the sidewalk, Branch turned to his friend. ‘Okay, I don’t know Allison, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say she knows me?’

Jason pressed his lips together. ‘I don’t think you guys have ever formally met, if that’s what you’re asking, but it’s safe to say she might feel like she knows you. She’s one of Kait’s good friends.’

A low groan escaped from deep in Branch’s throat. ‘So, she was looking at me like that because she thinks I’m a complete jerk.’

‘I am the last man on Earth who will ever try to figure out what a woman thinks,’ Jason chuckled, pushing Branch toward the doorway beside the coffeehouse. ‘But, heads up, we’re about to enter The Cakery, owned by Paige Henley, and she’s another one of Kait’s friends. All I can promise is that the sugar high will be worth any dirty looks you get.’

Thankfully, no dirty looks came from The Cakery, just a box of homemade sugared doughnuts and an introduction to the brunette that owned the place. Branch couldn’t believe how different the bakery looked now, remembering fondly what it was like when he was a kid, back when old Wilhelmina used to own it.

‘Paige seems nice,’ he said to Jason as he climbed back in the truck, awkwardly and dangerously balancing his paper coffee cup on the bakery box as he did so.

‘Easy, man, she’s engaged to Dr Cohen from the vet’s office.’

‘It was a simple observation, nothing more.’

Jason started the truck and got the heater blowing strong again before he pulled out of his parking spot and headed back toward Branch’s grandparents’ house. ‘Ah, right. Sorry, I just assumed you had a type when it came to women.’

Branch furrowed his brows. ‘And what type is that?’

‘The type where you only want the ones you can’t have.’

‘Let me guess,’ Branch groaned. ‘You’re not talking about Paige at all.’

Jason didn’t take his focus from the road in front of him. ‘I’m just saying, there are a lot of other women out there, Branch. Ones that don’t come with so much baggage and backstory.’

His words cut through Branch like a serrated knife. He was second-guessing his decision to confide in Jason about Kait’s agreement to help him with his grandparents’ house. ‘You think I need to stay away from Kait.’ Branch turned to glare at his friend, the paper cup in his hands burning into the pads of his fingers.

‘It’s none of my business, I know that. But are you sure it’s worth it to dredge up all this stuff from the past when you—’

‘When I’m the reason there’s stuff to dredge up in the first place?’ Branch snapped.

His outburst earned him a sidelong glance, but Jason remained calm. ‘Actually, what I was going to say was are you sure it’s worth it when you plan on leaving again at the end of the month?’ He paused, letting that train of thought sink in. ‘I’m not too keen on the idea of either of you getting hurt again. I think you two have been through more than enough.’

‘I’m not trying to hurt Kait.’ The words came out in a defensive rush before he could stop them. But was Jason right? Was that all his plans to spend time with her were going to do, hurt her all over again? Hurt himself?

‘It’s never going to be like it was back then, man.’ Jason sounded apologetic, and for that, Branch was thankful. Maybe he did understand, at least a little, how badly Branch wanted a second chance to make the past less painful and turn the future into what he and Kait had always hoped it would be.

But his friend couldn’t understand, he realized. If he did, he never would have said that, because as much as he believed things were never going to be like they were at eighteen, Jason was wrong.

Because they already were. Kait Davenport once again consumed his mind, and the events of that horrible night were once again front and center in his thoughts from the moment he woke up to the late hour he laid his head down at night. The past and the present had collided. For him, anyway.

Jason steered the truck into the driveway, parking it behind the rental Escape. The engine was still running when he turned to him. ‘Be honest,’ he said. ‘Is there any chance at all that you’d consider staying in Port Landon?’

Whatever response Branch was about to flounder through was interrupted by the crunch of hard-packed snow behind them. Both men turned to watch a BMW pull in behind the truck.

‘Who the—’

‘You don’t want to know,’ Jason interjected, staring at the sporty car with its tinted windows like it was the last thing on Earth he ever expected to see.

A second later, they watched the driver open the door and climb out slowly, and Branch’s jaw dropped slightly. It was the last thing he expected to see.

With wraparound Oakley sunglasses that matched the same glossy black as his BMW, Zach Canton looked better suited for the beach than the sub-zero temperatures of Michigan in December.

‘What’s he doing here?’ Branch’s pulse pounded furiously, his heart banging against his ribcage. He hadn’t seen the man since the night of the accident. With every thump of his heartbeat, he became more and more confident that eleven years wasn’t enough to divide the past from the present. It had taken seconds for Zach to climb out of that car, and that was all it took for then and now to crash into each other, too.

‘I don’t know,’ Jason replied, turning the key to kill the engine, ‘But there’s two things you’ve got to do right now, Sterling. The first is to get out of this truck and find out why he’s here. My windows aren’t tinted, so he can see us. The second thing is to stop your damn whispering. You sound like a moron.’

Branch hadn’t realized he’d whispered his question, but his friend’s candor snapped him back to reality and had him clearing his throat to compose himself. The truck door seemed heavier somehow as he climbed out into the cold. Then again, maybe it wasn’t the weight of the door that seemed heavier, but the weight of his guilt.

‘Branch Sterling. Well, if it isn’t the man of the hour himself,’ Zach shouted, rounding the front of his car to meet Branch at the passenger side. ‘The whole town’s buzzing about you being back in town.’

Zach’s features were harder than Branch remembered, his eyes clouded and shrewd. ‘Just got a few things to take care of, Zach, then I think I’ll be on my way.’ He gave the man a once-over. ‘You look like you’re doing all right.’ He had watched him walk toward him, waiting for an unsightly limp, or maybe an unsteadiness. But Branch saw no tell-tale signs of residual effects from the accident. None that he could see, anyway.

Zach made a show of waving a dismissive hand. ‘I’m doing just fine. It’ll take more than the backend of a truck to slow me down.’

Bile rose in Branch’s throat. Was it just him that found it tactless to mention the accident so nonchalantly, especially after everything it had cost everyone involved?

Jason cleared his throat. ‘What can we do for you, Canton?’ he asked in a clipped tone.

Nah, it definitely wasn’t just him.

Hands in the air, Zach smiled. ‘I come in peace, boys, I swear it.’ The smug tone and obnoxious chuckle that followed gave Branch the feeling that peace was the last thing on his mind, but Jason’s constant glances in Branch’s direction were getting through loud and clear. Just keep your mouth shut and hear the guy out.

‘I actually heard you were the executor of Addie and Duke’s estate,’ Zach continued, nodding his head toward the looming house that stood before him. ‘And the owner of this big, beautiful home now. Thought you might be in need of my services sometime soon, so I figured I’d drop this off.’ Zach produced a glossy business card seemingly from nowhere, holding it out between his fingers.

For a second time, Branch’s jaw went slack. Dumbfounded, he took the card, staring at it as though it was written in hieroglyphics. He knew from the Port Landon Ledger that Zach was a realtor, and a pretty successful one at that, but he never would have expected the man to seek him out about his grandparents’ house. ‘You came here to tell me you want to list my house?’ The word my tasted like acid on his tongue, but Branch refused to let Zach Canton stand here and forget that it was more than some real estate listing to him.

‘I can do you one better than that,’ Zach said proudly, obviously untouched by Branch’s indignant tone. ‘I’ll buy it from you. Top dollar, of course.’ He flashed a smile that made Branch’s insides contort. ‘That’s money in your pocket, Sterling, and then you – as you put it – can be on your way.’

He stared into the man’s sunglasses, wishing he could see his eyes. Did he really mean it as maliciously as Branch was hearing it? Was he really standing here, offering cash in exchange for the only family home he had, just to get him out of town as fast as possible?

‘Zach, I—’

‘Branch needs time to think about it,’ Jason cut in. ‘Zach, he’s only been here a few days. Give the guy some space while he sorts through his grandparents’ belongings, will you?’ He admonished the realtor with every word, while managing to ease Branch’s mind and calm him down. He was giving him an out. From the conversation, and from the ultimate decision.

Zach shifted his gaze from one man to the other, his sneer never wavering. ‘No problem at all. I just wanted to put the offer out there.’ He reached out and tapped the business card, still clutched between Branch’s icy fingers. ‘If you want to talk, you know where to find me.’

Branch and Jason watched as Zach shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and retreated to the driver’s side of his car. The door opened with a muted click, and the sounds of a classic rock radio station floated on the frigid air.

‘Oh, and Branch?’

‘Yeah,’ Branch replied absently. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t looked away.

Zach winked. ‘It’s good to see you.’ He folded himself into the little car and backed out of the driveway. Neither Branch nor Jason spoke a word until the red glow of the tail-lights disappeared around the corner.

Jason looked downright stricken on his friend’s behalf. ‘What just happened?’

Branch stared at the spot the impractical sports car had been only moments before. ‘I don’t exactly know,’ he replied absently. Then, he turned to face Jason. ‘But in response to your earlier question, I might not have a clue what the odds are of me staying in Port Landon just yet, but I think it’s safe to say there’s a certain somebody who’ll do what he can to make sure the odds are even better that I’ll leave.’

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