by Rebecca Rode
“Wow, I’m so sorry. Were the two of you close?”
“I guess so. She and my mom were best friends, and Mrs. Olson always encouraged me to pursue meteorology.” In fact, when the principal refused to allow Lauren, still only a sophomore, into the honors earth science class, Mrs. Olson had argued until Lauren was granted special permission to take it early. It was there she’d connected with Tanner over their mutual love of the subject. “I got a few emails from her after my parents’ funeral, but I never took the time to email her back.” Lauren had felt so broken. In a matter of weeks, she had lost both her parents and graduated from high school. The only thing she’d known to do was run.
“I’m so sorry.”
Lauren locked the screen and shoved her phone back in her purse. “I’m fine. I haven’t seen her in years.” She hadn’t meant to brush Mrs. Olson off, but everything had been so raw and painful. By the time Lauren resurfaced for air, three years had passed and it seemed ridiculous to get back in touch with anyone from her old life.
“Are you going to attend the funeral? Sunset Plains isn’t far from here.”
Lauren chewed on her lip, the pull toward home like a physical yank. Going back for the funeral of someone she hadn’t spoken to in almost four years was ridiculous.
“Do you think I should go?” Lauren asked.
“It makes sense you’d want to say goodbye.”
Lauren ached to see the pinks and golds of a sunset brush the tall grasses of her family home. Longed to watch the lightning bugs flicker in the trees. But shame for her abrupt departure had kept her away.
Could she face another funeral? And what if she ran into Tanner? She had no idea if he still lived in Sunset Plains, but the possibility combined with painful memories of her parents had always been enough to keep her away.
“Mrs. Olson is gone. She won’t know if I’m there or not,” Lauren said.
Shannon glanced over, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah, but that’s not really the point, is it?”
“I’m just not sure now’s a good time.”
“It sounds like you don’t want to go home.”
“Of course I want to go back.” Lauren just hadn’t been brave enough to follow through. After her parents’ deaths, every inch of that town had brimmed with raw memories. Tanner had insisted they should stick to the plan and stay there through the summer, then leave for Texas. All her pleadings had fallen on deaf ears.
“Then go. Don’t you think your mom would want you to?”
Lauren’s mind immediately filled with an image of two gleaming caskets poised on taut green belts above gaping holes. She hadn’t returned to the cemetery since the funeral. Did anyone take flowers to their graves, or did they stand empty and alone? The shame of guilt had hung heavy on her shoulders for that indiscretion.
Mrs. Olson had probably taken flowers.
“What about work?” Lauren asked.
Shannon rolled her eyes. “We work four days a week.”
“Yeah, but what if a story—”
“No one’s going to begrudge you attending a funeral. It’s one day.”
Maybe visiting Sunset Plains could be cleansing, like a summer thunderstorm. Tanner probably wasn’t even there—a town of four thousand didn’t exactly boast many jobs for meteorologists. Word would slowly get back to him that she had returned, perhaps paving the way for her to eventually apologize for the pain she’d caused them both.
Home. In four years, she hadn’t spent time anywhere that deserved that title.
Home. A chance to finally say goodbye.
Sunset Plains was calling her back.
Chapter Two
OF ALL THE PLACES TANNER had wanted to spend his first day back in Sunset Plains, a funeral home was at the absolute bottom of his list.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, running a finger over the divots of his new key as he followed his parents and sister across the gravel parking lot. He’d barely pulled into town an hour ago, and the moving truck still sat full in the driveway of his newly purchased house.
Not house, he reminded himself. Home. Four years was long enough to be away from the town he loved. He couldn’t wait for next week, when he’d start teaching meteorology at the satellite campus for OU. The campus was small, only one building with perhaps twenty classrooms. It served five or six nearby towns in addition to Sunset Plains, but it had a brand new weather center, which would be perfect for his PhD coursework.
“We won’t stay long,” Mama said. “Just enough time to pay our respects to the family.”
Cassidy caught Tanner’s eye and smirked, just like she had a thousand times when they were growing up. Despite being two years apart in age, they’d always been close. It was because of Cassidy that he’d first noticed Lauren. The two girls had been in the same grade and pretty friendly with each other.
He hoped Lauren was okay. That she’d found the peace she so desperately sought. Even after four years, he still worried about her.
“We won’t get out of here in under an hour,” Cassidy whispered so only Tanner could hear. But the words were full of a fondness for their town.
Viewings were social events in Sunset Plains. It was part of what small town living was all about, and part of what he’d missed while away. But did it have to be tonight? He’d be pushing it to get the moving truck unloaded and returned by the eight a.m. cutoff time tomorrow.
Tanner frowned, guilt making his stomach clench. Mrs. Olson was dead, and he was worried about a late fee. Why had he never sent her so much as a thank you card in all the years since he’d graduated? She’d written him recommendation letters for both scholarships and entrance applications to half a dozen universities.
But she’d also been a painful reminder of Lauren.
“We can stay as long as we need to,” Tanner told his mom. The late fee wasn’t important, when it came down to it. He knew townspeople would probably show up to help after they were done with their morning chores, anyway.
Dad held open the front door and Tanner followed Cassidy and his mom inside. He stopped just inside the foyer, memories flooding him at the sight of floral arrangements crammed into every inch of space. He could still remember the way Lauren had looked when she stepped through the doors, so stoic and grim. He’d tried to put a comforting arm around her shoulders, but she’d shrugged him off and walked away.
Something had changed in their relationship the day her parents died, and no matter how hard Tanner tried, he hadn’t been able to repair what was broken. It had taken over a year for him to realize that Lauren hadn’t wanted him to fix anything. One day they were posing together for graduation pictures, and the next Lauren’s cell phone had been disconnected. The only clue had been a note she’d left in his mailbox that said, Please don’t try to find me. I’m sorry.
For three weeks he’d heard her insist she needed a completely new plan for her life without ever listening to her at all. He’d never dreamed those plans didn’t include him.
He wrapped his hand around the keys still in his pocket. It had taken over a year for him to stop being bitter about the abrupt breakup and move on. He’d attended the satellite campus in Sunset Plains for two years so he could be near Lauren, delaying transferring to Texas A&M until they could attend together. He’d planned on proposing at Christmas, and had even taken on an extra job to save for the ring, although he’d told Lauren it was to earn money for tuition. They’d been so young, but it had felt like the right decision at the time.
Mama nudged Tanner aside and reached for the pen, then signed the remembrance book. Tanner blinked quickly, running a hand over his face. He’d accepted long ago that he would probably never see Lauren again. He’d had two serious relationships since their breakup, but the whisper of what should’ve been was always at the back of his mind.
“Sara!” a woman called from across the room—one of his parents’ neighbors.
Mama tugged on Dad’s arm, dragging him toward the woman. “You kids get in line, and we’
ll catch up to you in a bit,” she said.
“Yeah right,” Cassidy said, smoothing her long blonde braid over one shoulder as her engagement ring flashed in the light. But her tone was teasing.
They took their place at the back of the long line of mourners trailing into the foyer. Tanner craned his neck, trying to see into the room while doing quick calculations in his head. It would take them nearly an hour just to get through this line. The room was even more crowded with people and floral arrangements than the foyer. The crowd shifted, and he caught a glimpse of the shimmery plum-colored casket and Mrs. Olson lying peacefully inside.
“I can’t believe she’s gone.” Cassidy twisted the end of her braid around her finger, shifting from foot to foot.
“Me neither,” he said. Mrs. Olson had been a permanent fixture of Sunset Plains, or so he’d thought.
“She was still so young. Just last week at church, she told me she’d finally perfected her cherry pie and couldn’t wait to share it at the Fourth of July picnic.”
“It’s a crying shame we’ll never get to taste that pie,” the woman in front of them said. Tanner peered around Cassidy and instantly recognized the severe bun and wide smile of Mrs. Collins.
Great. They really would be here all night if they started a conversation with her. But he wouldn’t complain or try and rush his family out of here. Mrs. Olson didn’t deserve that.
“I know.” Cassidy let out a sigh. “She promised to show me how to make her pie crusts once school let out so I could sell them at the bakery during the holidays. I guess I’ll have to keep working on my own recipe now.”
“I’m sure it’ll be every bit as good as Dana’s was. I’ll be sure to stop by and order some pie come Thanksgiving.” Mrs. Collins turned her smile to Tanner. “It’s nice to see you back in town.”
“It’s good to be back,” Tanner said.
“And how was it, living in Texas?” Mrs. Collins asked.
“Not nearly as nice as living in Oklahoma.” Even after four years, it had never felt like home. Tanner wasn’t sure if it was the cramped housing or life as a college student, but he’d never quite fit in. Maybe it was because he’d planned on living there with Lauren. He choked back the sadness that always waited to swallow him whole. Would the ache ever completely go away?
He hoped she wasn’t still chasing storms. Surely, in four years, she’d at least moved on enough to find another outlet for her pain.
The line inched forward. Mr. Olson stood beside the casket, looking solemn in a charcoal gray suit and tie. He had the same haunted look in his eyes that Lauren had at her parents’ funeral.
“Heard you bought the Crawford’s old place,” Mrs. Collins said. “We’re all glad you’re putting down roots here. I know your mama’s missed you. It’s nice that it worked out so you’re back in time for Cassidy’s wedding. Where is Jase today, anyway?”
Cassidy blushed, her ears turning pink at the mention of her fiancé. Tanner didn’t know him well—just that he was a famous Hollywood actor head-over-heels in love with Cassidy—but what Tanner did know of Jase, he liked.
“He went to Kentucky on some ranch business,” Cassidy said. “He’ll be back this weekend.”
“I still can’t believe that man gave up acting for running a ranch,” Mrs. Collins said. “It’s almost sinful for someone as talented as him not to use the gift God gave him.”
Tanner discreetly glanced at his watch. Why had he packed his bed frame and mattress at the back of the moving truck? He’d have to unload the entire thing to get it out, and it didn’t look like that would be happening tonight. His parents had offered to let him sleep at their place, but he wanted to spend his first night back in Sunset Plains in his new home, bed or not.
The line moved forward while Mrs. Collins and Cassidy chatted about wedding plans. At the front of the line, a woman with platinum blonde curls hugged Mr. Olson. The color was lighter than Lauren’s, but the curls—all natural and falling in soft waves—reminded him of her. Tanner took a deep breath, trying to refocus. He was only thinking of her so much because the funeral home held such strong memories of their time together.
Something in the woman’s hair caught the light. Tanner blinked, then squinted. He could just make out blue gemstones clustered together in a clip. He’d given Lauren a similar one as a graduation present. The blue sapphires had formed a thunder cloud, with a diamond lightning bolt through the middle. He looked at the woman again, his heart racing. This woman was slender, like Lauren, but had more womanly curves. The gray pumps and fitted black dress looked nothing like the flowy sundresses with jean jackets she’d gravitated toward in high school.
Tanner shook his head, attempting to clear it. For a year after she’d left, he’d imagined seeing Lauren everywhere he went. It was natural that ghosts of his past would haunt him for a little while, now that he was back in town. Did Lauren ever think about him? Did she wish things had turned out differently?
“I think Jase is enjoying the break,” Cassidy was saying. “I’m not entirely convinced he won’t return to it someday, but his heart seems to be in Oklahoma.”
“Of course it is,” Mrs. Collins said. “That’s where you are, dear.”
The woman with the clip turned, her profile just visible. Pixie nose, slightly upturned at the end. Full lips. High cheekbones. Tanner’s heart clawed at his throat, and he struggled to clear his vision. The clip flashed again in the light. A lightning bolt. The blonde woman patted Mr. Olson’s hand, then moved on to the casket.
Being here was playing tricks on Tanner’s mind.
The woman stood for a moment, gazing down at Mrs. Olson, then left the line with a confident walk. She had a bounce to her step that was all too familiar.
Her eyes landed on Tanner’s, then widened as her jaw went slack. She caught her lip between her teeth and folded her arms in a gesture that seemed decidedly defensive. But she didn’t look away.
Lauren was back in Sunset Plains.
Chapter Three
LAUREN STARED ACROSS THE ROOM at Tanner, her limbs frozen stiff. So he was back in Sunset Plains. Or had he never left? A bubble of hysteria threatened to burst out of her lips, and she covered her mouth with a hand. Wouldn’t it be ironic if—after fighting so much about Texas A&M—he’d ended up not attending?
Tanner. Was. Here.
Horror coated her veins and battled with the longing welling up inside her. Back in high school, she would’ve run across the room, leapt into his arms, and wrapped her legs tightly around his waist as he buried his hands in her hair and kissed her breathless. She could almost hear the lockers slamming shut and smell the cafeteria food.
Perspiration chilled her body as her emotions, already so close to the surface, threatened to swallow her whole. She’d fought back tears all night as the memories dredged up by the funeral home overwhelmed her. And now Tanner was here.
He rubbed a hand over his slack jaw, covered in a day’s worth of dark scruff, yanking her out of the past and firmly back to the present. Lauren struggled to swallow the softball that had wedged itself in her esophagus. For three years he had been her everything. Did three unbelievably horrific weeks erase all that? Maybe if she’d stayed they would’ve worked things out. What kind of person broke up with the man she loved in a note?
He left me no choice, she reminded herself. He would’ve tried to stop me. He didn’t understand. I tried to explain a dozen times.
Last time she’d stood here, Tanner had stayed by her side the entire night, whispering reassurances in her ear while rubbing her back in small, soothing circles. The action was meant to be comforting, but had shattered her into a million pieces over and over again. Her parents were dead. There weren’t enough words in the world to fix that. Somehow, in the three weeks between their deaths and high school graduation, Tanner had transformed from an anchor in her life into a ball and chain. He’d become so overprotective. She had started chasing tornadoes, desperate to feel something other than pain—to feel clo
se to her parents—and it had created a wall of arguments between them she didn’t have the energy to climb. Tanner’s constant questions and prodding had suffocated her. She hadn’t need a surrogate parent in her life. She’d needed her boyfriend.
Lauren took a deep, shuddering breath, unable to look away from Tanner’s intense gaze. Even from across the room, his eyes accused her. You left, they seemed to say. Who does that?
But she’d wanted a fresh start, away from the pain and constant reminders, and Texas A&M hadn’t been good enough. That was a life she’d planned with her parents, one filled with season football tickets and promises to visit frequently. Tanner hadn’t wanted to hear it, though. He had stubbornly insisted she needed normalcy, had said grief wasn’t a good reason to make life-changing decisions. He had been determined to fix the unfixable.
The woman next to Tanner waved. Jealousy flared through Lauren, surprising the breath right out of her, until she recognized the trademark blonde braid slung over one shoulder. Cassidy. Of course he’d come with his family. But even if he hadn’t, Lauren had no right to be jealous. She wasn’t jealous.
This was a good thing. Now she could finally apologize and shed the weight of guilt she’d carried for so long.
Lauren returned Cassidy’s wave. Tanner continued to stare at her like he’d just seen the Rocky Mountains in Sunset Plains. His suit hung loosely on a string bean frame, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and tie slightly askew. He reached up, adjusting his thick black-framed glasses—something new since high school. It gave him a sexy professor look that had Lauren’s mouth growing dry. No doubt seeing her dredged up awful memories of their last three weeks together.
She took a deep breath, and then took a step forward. Tanner blinked, as though coming out of a daze. Cassidy sighed, grabbed his hand, and pulled him toward Lauren. What was going through his mind right now? Lauren kept her arms folded as she cautiously walked toward the pair, trying to read his expression. Would he yell? Give her a hug? Tell her to get out? How did she want to react?