Chapter Three
Evan
Present Day
Firebrook Valley hadn’t changed. A huge granite sign announced that it was no ordinary mountain town.
Fresh, cool air hit my lungs like a slap and a promise at the same time.
I pulled into Mabel’s gravel lot. My thumb hovered over a notification on my phone—a confirmation from a foreman in Romania saying the foundation for the new community clinic had finally been poured.
I forwarded the message to the team that took over the project when I stepped away to handle this and returned my attention to the phone call that had already dragged on for too long.
“I should be there,” my older sister Bella said for the third time. “Dad won’t handle the news well. Do you want to practice again how you should tell him? You know how he gets. And the company—directors are already asking questions. If he starts making erratic decisions—”
“Bella,” I cut in, not loud. Just enough. “Breathe.”
“I’m breathing. I’m also thinking. Drew and I made a choice, and I stand by it, but Dad’s not going to see quiet joy. He’s going to see betrayal. And you being the one to tell him—”
Her lack of faith in me stung. “I’m not telling him anything he doesn’t already suspect.
You know he has people watching over us.
My guess is he already knows.” I watched a kid kick a soccer ball against a stone wall.
Thud. Thud. Steady. “And if he does, he’s had three days to stew.
If he hasn’t blown anything up yet, he won’t now. ”
“I was careful. It was private. I suppose he could know . . .”
“He does. And now that I do, you can go back to enjoying your honeymoon.”
“I’m trying to, but I know Dad—”
“I know him too.” Better than she did, maybe, because distance allows for clarity. Bella saw a father who needed to be redirected and contained; I saw a man who needed a mirror. “You don’t have to be here putting out fires. Not this time.”
Silence stretched. The kind that meant she was counting the reasons I was wrong. To her, I was still the brother who spent his summers “finding himself” in the Mediterranean.
“I’m not saying you can’t handle it,” she said finally. “I’m saying I should be the one—”
“You always are.” I rubbed the back of my neck. A familiar figure passed the car and waved. I waved back and motioned that I was on the phone. He nodded and ambled on by. “You’ve been running around him since we were kids. Placating. Explaining. Cleaning up. It’s not necessary.”
“I’m not placating. I’m protecting what we built.”
“You’re protecting him from consequences, which prevents him from changing. There’s a difference.”
Another beat. I could picture her tensely sitting on the edge of a chair, eyes dark with worry. She loved me, but she didn’t trust that I could handle this situation, and her lack of faith in me had been part of why leaving had been so easy.
“You’re not upset?” she asked, softer now. “About the wedding?”
I almost laughed. “No. I’m glad you got the day you wanted.
No drama. No gold coins.” Those last words tasted sour.
I thought of my sixteenth birthday—three gold coins dropped into my palm like I’d been knighted.
Keys to a kingdom I’d never asked to rule.
I’d taken them because my grandparents’ eyes were shining and my father was watching, but they’d felt like lead in my pocket.
I never used them. Never went back to The Beacon.
It was a place full of people I didn’t care to share air with.
“I’m glad you’re stepping away,” I added. “You needed this.”
“Someone had to help Dad run the company.”
That would have stung if I wasn’t so proud of her for finally allowing herself to put herself first. “You’ve done amazing. So amazing I’m sure I can smoothly step into your shoes for a bit.” I kept my voice even. “It’s all going to be okay.”
She exhaled. Not surrender, but close. “Just . . . keep Dad calm. Please.”
“I’ll keep him honest.”
A small sound—half laugh, half sigh. “You always did go straight for the throat. He respects that about you even if he doesn’t seem to in the moment.”
“If you say we fought because we’re too much alike, I’m ending this call.”
She laughed apologetically. “If anything, you’re his opposite.”
Thank God. “Look,” I said. “You and Drew wanted privacy. You took it. Good for you.” I paused, because the next part mattered more.
“I’m fine. But have you checked on Nora?
I bet she took this hard. She won’t say it—she’ll smile and make her own sunshine like always—but she was left out.
That stings. When you’re done honeymooning, figure out how to make that right. ”
Bella was quiet a long second. “I will.”
“Good.”
I ended the call before she could circle back to logistics. Phone in pocket. Keys out. Door open.
And there she was.
Nora Burke, stepping into the parking lot with a paper bag clutched to her chest like armor.
For half a second my brain did something strange—laid the woman in front of me over the memory of a six-year-old sitting on a log by the river, knees pulled up, trying very hard not to cry.
I wanted to greet her with a huge hug, reassure her I’d handle everything, and then follow through on that promise.
My heart started racing, my breathing went shallow, and damn near all of my blood left my brain. She froze mid-step when she saw me, her grip tightening on the bag until she realized she might be crushing the contents and readjusted her hold on it.
I stilled, mouth slightly open, ability to speak lost to me. I’d kept up with her via online photos, but hadn’t seen her in person in years—not since that night in Boston when she’d reached out to me, drunk and ditched by people she’d thought were her friends.
And I’d gone to her . . .
“Hey,” I choked out.
“Hey.” Her voice came out small, then steadier. She looked at my car, then at me, then back at the car. “You’re . . . here. In the parking lot. Which is where people park. Cars.”
I blinked, my brain usually capable of navigating international contracts suddenly reverting to factory settings. “Yeah. It’s a good spot for it. The parking.” I nodded at the bag. “Lemonade and cookies?”
“Always.” She shifted her weight, the box tilting. “You getting some?”
“Love them. So, yeah.”
We both nodded and looked away before looking back. “I’m here to check on my dad.” I rubbed my jaw, the prickle of my two-day beard feeling rough under my palm. “Break the news. How about you?”
“Same.” She glanced toward Mabel’s, then back.
“Have you seen your father yet?”
“No.”
“Okay with handling it alone?”
“Yeah. My dad is a marshmallow when it comes to me.”
True.
“You?” she asked.
I coughed on a laugh. “Dad’s a dick, but I can be one too, so we’re good.” When she nodded, I joked, “You weren’t supposed to agree with that last part.”
That brought a smile to her face, which had been my goal. “Sorry.” She reached into the bag and pulled out a cookie, offering it as an appeasement. “Will this make it better?”
Our fingers brushed briefly as I accepted it and an unwelcome heat spread through me. “Double chocolate chip? I’ve received worse apologies.”
“I figured I should be nice to you now that we’re practically family.”
That hit like a punch. “Because . . . your brother is now my brother-in-law.”
“Yeah.” Her smile was pained. “Holidays are sure going to be exciting.”
I didn’t respond; I was still reeling from realizing I didn’t want her to be related to me. The years had been more than kind to her. She’d rounded out in all the ways that scrambled a man’s brain. And those eyes. Those damn, soulful, sweet, trusting eyes of hers.
I didn’t want to find appeal in any part of her—especially not with Brady showing up in her social media posts over the past year.
Being the daughter of the man my father despised hadn’t been the reason I’d always considered her off-limits.
There’d been times over the years when sparks of attraction between us had been impossible to deny, but I’d always been protective of her, even when it came to keeping her away from someone like me.
When I’d come home from college and saw she’d blossomed into a woman, I knew I had no intention of staying anywhere for long, and she needed someone stable.
And me? Now and then I might wonder what if . . . but as soon as things were resolved with my father, I’d be heading out again. So, Nora had made a better choice with Brady.
She bit her lip—the same way she had at six, deciding whether to trust me. “I hope your father handles the news well.”
“Yours too.” I watched her a second longer than I meant to, noticing the stubborn lift of her chin that hadn’t been there when she was small. I almost smiled. Almost. “I’d tell you to say hi to Cody for me, but . . .”
Her laugh was short, surprised. “Same. Who knows, maybe seeing Drew and Bella together will finally convince them to put their old grudges aside.”
“We can hope.” I gave her a small, crooked smile. “Thanks for the cookie.”
Another nod. Awkward. Friendly. Strained in that way only two people who’ve known each other forever and avoided each other for years can manage.
She lifted the bag a fraction. “I should . . . go.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
She turned, then paused. “Evan?”
I looked up.
“I’m glad you’re back. Your father will be too. If anyone can help him through this, it’s you.”
Her faith in me shook me to my core. “Thanks.”
She gave a small smile—sunshine peeking through clouds—and got in her car. Engine started. Gravel crunched. Gone.
I watched the taillights until they disappeared around the bend and cursed myself for not telling her that I was also glad she was back. Instead, while still mentally kicking myself, I headed into Mabel’s Cookies and Coffee.
Inside, the smell of coffee and cinnamon hit me like a memory. And there was Mabel behind the counter, wiping her hands on her apron, eyes lighting up when she saw me.
“Evan Holliston.” She came around fast, arms open. “Get over here.”
I hugged her back. She smelled like vanilla and home. Always had.
“Been too long,” she said against my shoulder.
“Has it?”
She pulled back, studied my face with that sharp, knowing look that went right past the expensive jacket and the “party boy” rumors.
“You look good,” she said. “Tired, but good.”
“Thanks. I think.”
She laughed, then sobered a little. “I’ve been waiting for one of you to show up. But I’ll be honest—I didn’t expect it to be you.”
I raised a brow. “Who’d you bet on?”
“Brady. Or maybe Bella swooping in like always.” She squeezed my arm, her expression softening into something warmer. “But you? You’re a nice surprise and the right choice. You’re the one who’ll say what needs to be said.”
I glanced around the diner full of familiar faces, with curious glances, and no judgment. Just Firebrook Valley being Firebrook Valley.
“That’s the plan,” I said quietly. “We’ll see how it goes.”
She patted my cheek like I was still ten. “Well, first, sit. Have some lemonade and a cookie.” She looked down at my hand. “You already have one?”
“I met up with Nora in the parking lot.”
“And she shared her stash? That girl is so sweet.”
“Yeah. Sweet.” I forced a smile as I tried to forget that she was also grown up and completely off-limits.
She bustled off. I slid onto a stool. Palila and Emma joined me, flanking me. “So, you saw Nora? Did she ask about Brady? How do you feel about them dating?”
And just like that, I was back.
In hell.
Whether I wanted to be or not.