Chapter Three
Main Street Diner
Jill Harrington sat in the corner booth at Main Street Diner with a full mug of coffee, a half-eaten Belgian waffle next to a little puddle of grease where bacon had once been. Her laptop was open in front of her, and she was thinking about the cabin outside Marietta instead of her book.
She had been a resident of Montana for over three years now, and for the entirety of those three years she had spent nearly every waking minute within arm’s reach of her grandmother.
At first, it had been because Grandma was recovering from a stroke. Between the effects of the stroke and Grandma’s twenty-some-years long bout with a muteness that had been psychological, not physical, Jill had determined to stay and take care of her grandmother instead of returning to Boston.
Now Grandma was physically completely recovered from her stroke, and she’d had a breakthrough when it came to her muteness. These days, Grandma spoke more than she ever had since Jill could remember. She was more settled, more herself than she’d been in some time.
Which meant Grandma had started to make noise about Jill having a life. Insisting she could handle being alone up at the cabin outside of town. Insisting Jill not spend another year hiding away in a tiny mountain cabin with her grandmother.
Jill wouldn’t call it hiding, but she’d had to admit she was eager to feel more like … a member of society instead of some kind of shut-in. She didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to move away from the cabin. She loved their tiny home.
But being able to head into town without making arrangements for Grandma, being able to stay away for a few hours without worrying? It held some appeal.
Or Jill thought it would. Today was the first real test of their mutual independence. She had determined she was going to write at the diner for a couple hours in the morning.
So far, she’d spent more time considering worst-case scenarios than doing any writing. Jill wondered if this was what mothers felt like when they went back to work after having a baby.
Luckily, she had predicted her concentration might be a little fractured. Like a muscle, it would need to be rebuilt. Trusting her grandmother was okay by herself. Being on her own schedule without having to worry about Grandma’s.
She’d never been much of a writing-around-other-people person anyway. She tended to get distracted by conversations, who was coming and going. So, she’d planned to focus on research this morning.
The bell on the door tinkled and Jill looked across the diner. Lucky her, her research subject had just walked in.
Cal Bennet was a fascinating man for a wide variety of reasons.
She’d only just gotten to know him in the last year, since he’d been an infrequent visitor to Marietta before that.
Then she’d been tangentially involved when he’d worked through some of his traumatic amnesia and remembered that as a young man, he’d witnessed his father kill his mother.
It still gave Jill a shudder to think about. And amazed her that he could be so … resilient. Because even as secret after secret had landed blows on him and his family over the past year, he looked…
Good. Not just because he was handsome, which he was. The Bennet brothers all were. A kind of tall, dark, and handsome that arranged itself differently on every brother, just like their personalities all seemed to be polar opposites, but the visual result had the same overall effect.
Even when he’d been so lost. Losing weight, dealing with the psychological impact of his trauma, and then the physical effects of a gunshot wound when he’d stepped in to save his brother. He was just … a good-looking guy.
Jill had mostly ignored that, but in the past few months, it was impossible to ignore that she found him fascinating.
She found him attractive. And she’d never really let her imagination get carried away in that department because she knew the complex breadth of his issues, and her connection to them was … complicated.
But when he flirted with her, which he did on occasion, she kind of forgot about that.
Then she had to remind herself that he flirted with anyone and everyone. Charm was just second nature to Cal Bennet.
Last night was definitely case in point.
“Morning, Jill,” he greeted, sliding into the seat across from her.
His smile was … not like last night. It was that kind of vague one he used as a shield, but not a weapon.
Still, she smiled back. Because this was work. “Morning, Cal. Thanks for meeting me. It’s so much easier to get a sense of things in person than over email.”
“No problem. I’m surprised you’re in town two days in a row.”
Jill smiled ruefully and explained her grandmother’s new directive while a waitress came over and filled Cal’s coffee mug. He gave her the same exact smile he gave Jill.
Which she should not be noticing.
“I keep reminding myself she is physically capable of taking care of herself, and she has access to a phone to call if she needs me to come home.”
He took a sip of his coffee, leaned back in the booth, and studied her with those intelligent brown eyes that tended to pick up on everything, if he wanted them to. “Why do I sense a but somewhere in there?”
“But I keep picturing her lying on the ground, reaching for the phone, hurt and alone and incapable of asking for help.”
His eyebrows rose a little bit. “She’s been doing great. I don’t think you need to worry about that.”
Jill tapped her temple. “Writer’s brain. Worst-case scenarios are my life.”
Something in Cal’s expression changed ever so slightly, that kind of distracted air about him she wasn’t used to.
Then he focused back on her. “Why don’t you just call and check in on her?”
Jill wrinkled her nose. “She told me I can only call once an hour, and I just did ten minutes ago.”
He chuckled. “So you know she’s fine.”
“She was fine ten minutes ago, Cal. Who knows what can change in ten minutes?”
She expected a smile or a laugh, but he kind of frowned.
She looked down at her list of questions, then at his furrowed brow. “Is everything all right?”
He looked out the window. Shook his head. “Yeah, it is, but I’m a little distracted by some news I got this morning. Sorry.” He refocused on her. “You’ve got courtroom questions, right?”
She did, but… “We can always reschedule if there’s something else you need to do. Grandma is insisting I leave her alone at least three times a week. So, until I figure out what to do besides come to the diner or the library and pretend to work, I’ll be in town a few times a week.”
“That won’t hold you up?” He gestured at her computer. “Deadline-wise.”
Jill looked down at her laptop. Her own brain was the holdup right now, but she didn’t have a precise deadline yet.
She’d had an offer on the book, but her agent was still dealing with the nitty-gritty, including delivery dates and a publishing schedule.
“No. I can write around the courtroom scene for right now. Or I can even try to write it and send it to you to go over and correct.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. Let’s do that.” He was already getting to his feet.
He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and started to put a twenty on the table.
“Cal, you didn’t even order anything except coffee.”
He waved it away like it was nothing. “Next time.” Then he strode out of the diner, all that distraction he’d come in with now focused on whatever it was that was bothering him.
She frowned after him, hoping it didn’t mean more trouble for the Bennets.