by Diana Gardin
Duck Creek was a small town, but she must have been working extra hard to avoid him, because he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Ever Allen in three months.
He ran into Cross, who was leaning against the glass front of the flower shop while he waited.
“Stalking the local florist again?” he asked with an innocent smile.
Cross shot him a smirk. “How else would I find out all that info for you on how Ever’s doing?”
Hunter’s smile faded. “She okay today?”
“Rilla says she’s doing fine; she’s just not the same Ever she met months ago,” said Cross with a shrug. “But then, we all know why.”
His throat clogged with Cross’s words. “I can’t fix it for her, Cross. She won’t let me.”
He turned and began walking toward Jimmy’s. They were quiet as they moved, and Hunter didn’t spare a glance around as they entered the bar.
When they sat down at a table, Hunter raised a hand to the bartender to indicate that he wanted a beer, and the bartender nodded briskly.
“What the hell are you doing here?” asked Cross seriously.
“Having a beer?”
“I don’t mean literally here, smart-ass,” said Cross. He ran a hand through his wild, dark hair. “I mean here in your life without Ev? She’s it for you, man. Stop wasting time. Go get her.”
“Shut the fuck up, Cross. This shit is hard enough without you telling me stuff like that. I can’t go get her; she’s her own person. She doesn’t want me.”
The pain expanded until it was spreading into his limbs with a burn that only affected him when he thought about her. He received an update each day from Cross, who managed to get a report from Rilla, but it still hurt like there was poison spreading through his veins—the slowest-working poison in the universe—killing him slowly.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he growled.
“You haven’t even told her that Sam is texting you again,” said Cross quickly before dropping his eyes to his beer. “That’s all I’m saying.”
He hadn’t told Ever about Sam. That was true. Would it make a difference? He knew she was drowning in the guilt of what they’d done and how it had hurt Sam. But now that she knew Sam was moving on with his life and that he’d forgiven them, would it matter to Ever? Would it give him a chance at getting her back?
God, he wanted her back more than anything he could possibly imagine. He wanted it so much he woke up at night imagining she was there in his arms like the single night in his life he’d gotten to spend with her. That night was imprinted in his memory forever, and it haunted him.
He stood up so abruptly his beer knocked over and spilled into Cross’s lap. Cross jumped up, cursing loudly.
“Sorry,” said Hunter quickly, throwing a bill onto the table. “I gotta go.”
“I have cancer,” announced Lacey one evening as they were closing up the bakery.
Announced it, like she was announcing that there was a storm headed their way, or that the Hokies had just won the national title.
“What?” asked Ever, certain she’d heard the older woman incorrectly. She thought Lacey had just informed her that she had a deadly disease.
“You heard me, girl,” said Lacey, wiping out the big oven. “I have cancer.”
Ever’s hands stilled over the countertop she was wiping, and her eyes instantly filled with moisture as she stared at Lacey’s back. Her breath hitched and she raised a shaky hand to her face to brush away a pesky strand of hair.
Lacey stood up, turned around, and saw that Ever’s face had turned pale and that her limbs were trembling.
“Oh, now don’t start thinkin’ I’m dying on you, cuz I ain’t,” said Lacey soothingly as she rushed to Ever’s side.
Lacey’s hand rubbed a slow circle over Ever’s back, and all Ever could think was that the crazy cake lady was comforting her.
“Lacey, when did you find out?” she said weakly.
“Two weeks ago. It’s stage-two lymphoma, so we can fight it. But I need to start aggressive treatment right away, and that means I have to let go of all of this.” She gestured grandly around the bakery.
“You’re selling the bakery?” asked Ever in horror. “No, Lacey—you can’t do that! I can just work it for you until you’re better. This place is your baby. You can’t sell it.”
A stubborn determination settled over Ever as she stared at Lacey. There was no way she was letting her give up the thing she loved most. No way in hell.
“I’m not selling it. I’m giving it to the only person in my life I know could do it justice. I’m giving it to the person who has always felt like a daughter to me. I’m giving it to you.”
Now Ever’s legs did give out, and she sat down hard on the tiled floor. She closed her eyes and stuck her head between her legs. When she finally looked up again, Lacey was grinning at her.
“I can’t let you do that,” she said quietly. “No, Lacey.”
“It’s already done,” said Lacey with a wave of her hand. “Had the paperwork filed last week. It’s done, and you own the place, and you better not get rid of those coconut clusters everyone loves so much just because your boyfriend hates them.”
She reached out and squeezed Lacey to her. “I’m going to be there for every step of your treatment, Lacey. I promise. Whatever you need. And this place? I’d be honored to own it. Holy crap—I can’t believe I own a bakery!”
Then it dawned on her, what Lacey had said. “What boyfriend?”
“Hunter Waters,” said Lacey carefully.
“Lacey…what? I haven’t spoken to Hunter in months. That ship has sailed. After what went down with Sam…I just…”
She’d given Hunter up, for his own good. It was the right thing to do. She’d come between the brothers, and she had to step away so that one day they could repair their relationship. As much as it hurt—and her chest was ripping open a little more every day—it was what was right.
Ever was well aware that she had some healing of her own to do. After she left Nelson Island, she’d recalled that for her entire life, one or both of the Waters brothers was standing right beside her, holding her hand. It had been time for her to stand on her own for a while.
Lacey shook her head vigorously. “You’ll learn, little girl. Life is too short for that nonsense. Didn’t you just have a nice long conversation with Sam this week about forgiveness? He’s happy down there in South Carolina. Deliriously happy. He found his nirvana. It’s time for you to go get yours.”
Ever shook her head slowly, staring at Lacey. “You don’t think it would be wrong? Me and Hunter, I mean?”
“Enough time has passed, Ever,” said Lacey gently. “Hearts have healed. All the hearts except yours and Hunter’s. Because you both need each other.”
She was right, of course. More right than Ever had allowed herself to admit.
A series of images began flitting through Ever’s head, like the last six months of her life reeling through her consciousness in pictures.
Hunter, standing next to her in the woods after Sam left. The first staring contest they had. Hunter, the way he looked as he hovered above her.
“Thanks, Lacey,” she said, squeezing the woman to her side again and standing up.
Lacey patted her shoulder. “I need you to close up tonight. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment to get to. I meant it when I said I’m getting ahead of this thing. You gonna be okay?”
Ever nodded, worrying her lip while she studied Lacey. “Anything you need, Lacey. I’m here for you.”
Lacey gathered up her things and sent Ever a beaming smile before leaving the bakery. Ever leaned against the counter, thinking about all the revelations the day had brought her. She hadn’t been expecting any of it. Not Lacey’s shocking news, not her epiphany about Hunter.
Hunter.
What if it was too late? What if he’d moved on while she was getting herself together? What if…
Rilla walked in the door, snapping her out of her
reverie. “Came to get a cupcake. I swear I’ve gained ten pounds since I moved here. You and your damn cupcakes.”
Ever smiled at the girl who’d quickly become her best friend. “At least your ass is happy.”
Rilla’s mouth dropped open and Ever laughed. It faded away as her thoughts turned to a place they hadn’t been for a long, long time.
“Hey,” said Rilla with a concerned frown. “You okay? Where’d you go?”
“Hey, Rilla,” said Ever suddenly. “Will you come somewhere with me tomorrow morning?”
Tomorrow morning was one of the days the bakery was closed. She could do what she needed to do without having to worry about getting to work. And after what she needed to do, she’d never make it through a day of baking.
“Sure.” Rilla nodded her head slowly, staring thoughtfully at Ever. “I can close the shop for a few hours. What are we doing?”
“I’ll pick you up. Breakfast will be on me.”
Sixteen
Ever pulled up in front of Rilla’s florist shop bright and early the next morning in a pair of black jeans and a plain purple T-shirt. Instead of waiting out front, she walked inside with a white sack full of sugary baked goodies.
“Good morning!” Rilla’s bright greeting was the norm, and Ever grinned in return.
“I come bearing scrumptious scones and Danishes.” She thrust the bag at Rilla, who licked her lips in anticipation.
Ever watched Rilla closely as they sat at one of Rilla’s worktables. Rilla prepared to dig into Ever’s homemade goodness. “You know I think you only like me for my baked goods, right?”
Rilla eyed her, her big blue eyes the picture of innocence. “What are we doing today?”
“We’re visiting someone I’ve been missing for a long time. Can I look through some of your arrangements? I want to bring her some flowers.”
Rilla nodded, her mouth too full of cream cheese and pastry to speak. She gestured toward one of her shelves and then moaned in ecstasy. “So good.”
Ever wandered along the wall of colorful flower bouquets, her eyes seeking, until she found the one she thought would be exactly right to lay on her mother’s grave. The beautiful array of pink posies sent her mind soaring, thinking of warmth and light. Everything her mother was to her once.
She hadn’t visited the gravesite since the funeral, when she was just a tiny little girl. Her father had never taken her back there, and she knew now it was because losing her mother had completely shredded him. He’d taken it out on her, which she may never forgive him for. But now that he was gone, she had a desperate need to see the place where her mother rested—to visit the place she was buried, talk to her about the things she’d been through in her life. Something told her that wherever her mother was, she hadn’t missed a moment of her daughter’s pain.
Somehow, she knew that this act would be like a salve for her damaged heart.
Ever and Rilla finished their breakfast and climbed into Ever’s clunky truck. Rilla complained every single time she rode in the thing, and it only made Ever appreciate the big old beast more. She patted the dashboard lovingly as Rilla suggested for the umpteenth time that Ever get a car that was more environmentally friendly.
“One day,” promised Ever.
They were quiet on the drive to the cemetery, each girl lost in her own thoughts.
Finally, as the truck pulled through the tall, iron gates, Rilla looked over at Ever. “I’ve never…”
Ever’s eyebrows rose as she glanced at her friend. “You’ve never visited a grave before?”
Rilla shook her head, the corners of her dainty mouth turning down in a frown.
Ever, taking comfort in her friend’s apprehension, grasped her hand over the console. “It’s been a while for me. I can do this myself. Are you going to be okay, or do you want to stay here?”
Rilla took a deep breath. “I’m here for you, Ever. Whatever you need. I’m coming with you.”
Ever nodded, squeezing Rilla’s hand in hers, and they exited the car. The September sunshine shone a burnished gold against the just-changing colors of the old dogwood leaves shading the rows of graves. In the distance, gray clouds loomed, forecasting a rainy afternoon to come. They walked silently, reverently, until Ever reached her destination.
Her mother lay beneath the shade of one of the largest trees in the cemetery, her gravestone standing stark and alone in the air ripe with the coming fall. Ever stuttered to a stop when she saw it and then fell to her knees on the soft grass beside the gray stone. Rilla hung back a bit, watching.
“Hey, Momma,” breathed Ever. She took a deep breath and reached out a trembling hand to stroke the letters gracing the headstone. The other hand clung tightly to the bunch of posies she’d brought.
Elizabeth Steele Allen
1970–1997
Wife, mother, and friend
An angel on Earth, called home.
Her fingers stroked the words lovingly. A breeze lifted the auburn strands of her loose hair, and she realized as it struck her face that her cheeks were wet with tears.
She looked back at Rilla, a sad smile pulling at her lips. “Rilla, meet my mother.”
Rilla brushed at her own cheeks as she knelt down next to her friend. She wrapped both arms around her shoulders and squeezed. As she leaned her head down on Ever’s shoulder, she stared at the beautiful words written on the stone. “You created a beautiful person,” she whispered. Then, to Ever, “And now I’m going to give you a few minutes, okay? I won’t go far. There’s a bench over there.”
She planted a kiss on Ever’s cheek and then stood and trudged about a hundred feet away to the bench, pulling out her phone.
Ever turned her attention back to Elizabeth Allen’s grave. “I miss you, Momma. I always have. But now I think I’m going to come visit you a lot more often. I’m healing now, and I want you to be a part of that.”
And then she did something she hadn’t done in a long time, too long to remember. Maybe she’d never done it, or she’d stopped after she figured out that no one was listening.
She bowed her head and prayed.
Rilla waited on the bench, eying Ever as she approached her friend’s sitting spot.
“All finished?” she asked gently.
Ever nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”
“What do you want to do now?”
Ever stopped in front of the bench and raised her eyes to the sky. Bright patches of blue shone through the now all-encompassing cloud cover. The breeze chilled her bare arms a little more than it had an hour ago, and she hugged herself.
“Let’s go get some coffee?” she suggested with a smile.
Rilla perked up even more at the suggestion of caffeine, and pulled out her phone as they began the short walk back to the truck.
“Who are you texting?” asked Ever with fascination. Rilla had the fastest-moving fingers she’d ever seen.
“No one.” Rilla blinked at her, brimming with innocent nonchalance, and Ever knew something was up.
Grumbling about secrets and sneaks, Ever got into the truck and drove the two of them back toward the center of town.
Duck Creek still lacked a Starbuck’s, so Ever chose the next best thing: Jivin’ Java. She pulled the truck into the parking lot beside the building and sat in the driver’s seat, keys still in the ignition.
“I have to call Hunter,” she said suddenly, glancing at Rilla.
“I know.” Rilla stared out the window, not looking over at Ever.
Outside, the clouds that had gathered overhead opened, and a light, steady rain began to fall. Ever reached over Rilla’s seat and grabbed her umbrella off the truck floor.
Ever’s brow furrowed. “Why don’t you sound more surprised?” She tried, and failed, to keep the suspicion out of her voice. Rilla liked to talk through every single decision, because she simply couldn’t help it.
“I need a shot of espresso. Ready?”
Ever watched Rilla’s curls bounce out of the truck, and the
n she followed suit, climbing down and moving slowly to stand on the sidewalk on the side of the coffee shop.
She really was ready to call him. She didn’t know what she’d say, exactly. Or if he’d even want to hear from her. But she wanted to tell him, first and foremost, what had happened at the cemetery. And how it made her feel, taking that leap.
She didn’t have to wait long. Pushing her umbrella up to cover her head and Rilla’s, she walked around the corner to the front of the building. She froze when she found Hunter leaning against the brick in front of Jivin’ Java.
Oh, holy mother. She hadn’t seen him in months, and his blond hair was a little shaggier. The fitted long-sleeved thermal he wore displayed all those hard-worked muscles he earned in his daily life, and his face was…beautiful.
Her Hunter was beautiful.
“Hey,” she said softly as she approached him.
Rilla left the shelter of the umbrella and disappeared into the coffee shop.
Raindrops were dotting his shirt, his face, his hair. She hyper-focused on a single droplet resting on his top lip. He held up both hands, cautiously standing up straighter. “I don’t want to upset you, Ev.”
She stepped closer, stopping a few paces away from him. “I was going to call you. Leave it to Rilla to beat me to it.”
“It’s just that I got a text from Sam, and I think he’s forgiven us. And I miss you so goddamn much it hurts sometimes, Ever. I’ve given you space—” She smiled, dropping her umbrella by her side, and reached out to place her hands on his damp cheeks. “Wait…what?”
“Three months without you were enough. You were there for me, Hunter, during the absolute worst time of my life, and I’ll never be able to repay you for that. It was tough having to experience the hurt that we inflicted on Sam. I wish it had never happened like that. But I’m not sad that it happened. We found our way to each other during the darkest time, and it was messy and complicated, but it was us. We needed each other. I needed you.”