Chapter Two #2
Connie smiled. “Of course he did. He’s a good man.”
“He offered to let me stay with him, but he’d already done so much.”
“Doesn’t surprise me one bit.” She paused at the door. “You can start Monday. We open at five for the breakfast crowd.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, Connie. For all of it.”
“It’ll get better, hon. It might not feel that way right now, but it will. Maybe you were meant to end up in Clifton.”
Aftyn looked around the apartment one last time. “You mentioned it’s been used before. How long has that been going on?”
“Oh, a few years now. It started with my niece Deidra when she came for Christmas to visit her youngest sister Lanie, who had moved here because of a broken heart. Then their middle sister Rissa stayed here. Then Sloane, their cousin. Kenzie lived here for a while too, and Courtney.” Connie counted on her fingers.
“Quite a few, really. Lanie’s the only one who didn’t stay up here. ”
“I’d love to have it. I promise I’ll take good care of it.”
“I know you will.” Connie nodded toward the door. “Take a look around, then we’ll head back down.”
Aftyn wandered through the rooms, already imagining herself settled in, just resting for the first time in days. When she came back Connie was waiting by the door. She pulled it shut, locked it, and handed Aftyn the key.
“You know,” Connie said as they started down the stairs, “every woman who’s lived in that apartment found love here and stayed.”
Aftyn laughed softly. “You said Lanie didn’t live up here?”
“No, she stayed in the little house Owen, and I lived in when we first opened the diner. Before we bought our place we were up there ourselves, then it just sat empty for years. I like having someone in it. Lanie found love in Clifton too, as it happens.”
Aftyn followed Connie back down the stairs. Connie knocked and they waited. A moment later Owen pulled the door open, smiling when he saw them.
“Just in time. Your burger’s up, Aftyn.”
“Thank you, Owen. I’m starving.”
“So, are you taking the apartment?”
“I am.” She shook her head. “I can’t thank you both enough.”
“No need for that.” He let the door close behind them. “We like having someone up there.”
Aftyn settled back onto her stool. Connie set the plate in front of her, and she groaned at the smell.
“If it tastes half as good as it smells, I’m in trouble.”
“You can’t go wrong with a burger from this diner.”
The voice came from her left. She turned to find a man settling onto the next stool, cowboy hat shadowing a strong jaw dusted with stubble. His broad shoulders filled out a pressed khaki shirt, and a gold badge above his left pocket caught the light. Sheriff.
“It sure smells like it.” She took a bite and groaned. “It is.”
He smiled and extended his hand. “Sheriff Sam Garrett.”
“Aftyn Hutchins. Nice to meet you, Sheriff.”
“Call me Sam. We’re not formal around here.”
“Your usual?” Connie asked him, already reaching for the coffee pot.
“Please. Tessa’s on her way and she’ll want hers too.”
“I’ll get Owen started.” Connie filled his cup and disappeared into the kitchen.
Sam looked at Aftyn. “Passing through or visiting?”
“Neither, as it turns out.” She gave him the short version, the car, the field, Cole, Chuck.
He nodded slowly. “Cole’s a good man. You were lucky he was close by.” He glanced around the diner. “And you won’t find better people than Connie and Owen.”
“I’m starting to see that. I can’t believe she’s letting me stay upstairs.”
Sam smiled. “I can.”
Aftyn hesitated, then set down her coffee. “Is there a police department here? I have a situation I’d like to talk to someone about.”
“My department can help you with that. Courthouse across the street, first floor. I’m there Monday through Friday until three-thirty.”
“I’ll come by soon. Thank you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The bell above the door jingled. Sam was on his feet before it finished, crossing the diner to meet the woman who walked in. He kissed her and the other patrons erupted, making Aftyn laugh.
He guided her toward Aftyn. “Aftyn, this is my wife, Dr. Tessa Garrett. Tessa, Aftyn Hutchins.”
Tessa shook her hand warmly. “Please, call me Tess. It’s lovely to meet you.”
“You too. What kind of medicine do you practice?”
“Veterinary.”
Aftyn smiled. “I wanted to be a vet when I was little. I think every girl does at some point.”
“I think you’re right. I know I did.” Tess laughed and took the stool beside her husband.
She turned to Aftyn with easy curiosity. “Are you visiting?”
“No, just stuck here until I can get my car fixed.” She gave Tess the short version, leaving her sister out of it.
Tess shook her head. “That’s so like Cole. He’s a good man.”
“He really is. Connie offered me the apartment upstairs and a job while I’m here.” Aftyn glanced down the counter. “I’ve never met anyone so kind to a complete stranger.”
“That’s just it,” Tess said. “No one is a stranger to Connie.”
“I’m starting to understand that.” Aftyn took another bite of her burger and moaned. “This might be the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
Sam and Tess both laughed.
After lunch Sam stood, settled the bill, kissed his wife, and headed out. Aftyn watched Tess sigh after him.
“Your husband is very handsome,” Aftyn said.
“Yes. Yes, he is.” Tess smiled into her coffee.
“They don’t call him the sexy sheriff for nothing,” Connie called from down the counter.
Aftyn laughed. “I hope that’s not offensive, Tess. I’m sure you hear it constantly.”
“I do. But I know he loves me.”
“No question about that,” Connie said.
Aftyn finished the last bite and looked at Connie.
“I’ll see you Monday morning.”
“You still need to get your things, hon.”
“Oh, shoot. You’re right. I’ll head over there now.”
“In this heat? Let me drive you. Lunch crowd’s gone, it’ll be fine. Just let me tell Owen.”
“Connie, I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask. I volunteered.”
“Give up, Aftyn,” Tess said from beside her. “The woman doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.”
“I can see that.” Aftyn laughed. “Alright. Thank you, Connie.”
“Be right back.”
A few minutes later they were driving through town, and Aftyn turned to look at the small shops lining the street.
“I’d love to browse through all of these once I have some money.”
“It’s known as one of the friendliest towns in the west.” Connie glanced over at her. “So, what do you think of Montana so far?”
“I love it. And I have to say, the men aren’t hard to look at either.” Aftyn smiled. “I’ve always had a soft spot for cowboys. Growing up in Colorado you see plenty of them, but when I saw Cole today...” She shook her head.
Connie smiled. “Well, if you stick around you might find yourself one. Cole, though, I wouldn’t get your hopes up there, hon.”
“Why not?”
“About a year ago a woman broke his heart. They were very much in love, or at least Cole was. They were talking about getting married when she was offered a position at a big hospital in New York. She wanted him to go with her, but Cole made a promise to his father to keep the farm going. He wouldn’t leave.
So, she went without him.” Connie shook her head.
“It tore him apart. And it wasn’t even the first time she’d done it.
She’d walked away before and he always took her back. ”
“What does she do?”
“Pediatrician. Talented one from what I understand, but talent doesn’t excuse what she did to that man.” Connie’s jaw tightened slightly. “Cole Harrison is one of the finest men I know. I just hope if she ever comes back, he has the sense to keep that door closed.”
“He seemed like a good man to me. He mentioned he grows livestock feed?”
“For Beckett Feed, out of Hartland. His father used to grow barley until a drought wiped him out. When Ash Beckett approached him about leasing some of the land, he agreed. Now that his parents are retired, Cole runs all of it.” Connie glanced over.
“That farm has been in the Harrison family over a hundred and fifty years. Cole made a promise to his father, and he intends to keep it.”
“I can respect that.”
“As for Callie, in my opinion she was selfish. She did just fine at Clifton Memorial. She wanted the bright lights, plain and simple. And she gave up a good man to get them.”
Aftyn didn’t have a response to that. She’d never been in that position, but she found herself wondering if she could walk away from a man like Cole for the sake of a career. Some people put ambition above everything else. She supposed she understood it, even if she didn’t admire it.
“He mentioned two younger brothers.”
“Seth and Ethan. Both fine young men. They each have their own places. Cole being the oldest, the farm went to him.” Connie smiled. “Seth just got engaged, actually.”
Connie pulled into the garage lot. Aftyn retrieved her suitcases and loaded them into the back seat, then they headed back to the diner. Connie parked behind the building and turned to her.
“Do you need help getting those up?”
“No, I’ve got it. Thank you for this, Connie. For all of it.”
“You might not be thanking me Monday morning when you see the breakfast crowd. Mostly cowboys fueling up before their day starts.” She smiled. “Be here at five. Come to the front door. We won’t hear the back entrance.”
“I’ll be there.”
At five Monday morning, Aftyn questioned the decision she’d made.
She had never seen a place so packed at this hour.
The counter was lined with cowboys, hats and all, and the noise was something else entirely.
Laughter, conversation, utensils on plates, the clatter of mugs being set down and picked back up.
How anyone could be this alive before sunrise was beyond her.
“Not a morning person, I take it,” said a man sitting at the counter.
Aftyn laughed despite herself. “Is it that obvious?”
“Afraid so, sweetie. Jim Barton.” He extended a weathered hand.
“Aftyn Hutchins. Nice to meet you, Mr. Barton.”
“You too, honey. Retired now, sold my pig farm, but I still come in every morning for the breakfast and the company.”
“And I’m sure you find both.”
“Every single day.” He looked her over. “You’re not from around here.”
“Colorado. My car broke down, so I’m stuck until Chuck can fix it.”
“Well, if anyone can fix it, Chuck can. He’ll treat you right.”
The bell above the door jingled and Aftyn glanced up out of habit. Her heart dropped straight to her stomach. Cole stepped inside, eyes scanning the counter until they landed on her. He looked genuinely surprised. He took the empty stool beside Mr. Barton.
“Cole, how are you, son?”
“Fine, Mr. Barton. You?”
“Just great. You know Miss Aftyn?”
“I do.” Cole looked at her. “How are you settling in?”
“Better than expected. Connie gave me a job and the apartment upstairs.” She smiled.
Cole grinned. “That sounds like Connie. Could you tell Owen I’ll take my usual?”
“You got it.”
She was learning fast that nearly everyone who came through the door ordered their usual, and Owen and Connie knew every single one by heart.
All Aftyn had to do was write the customer’s name on the ticket with ‘usual’ beneath it.
She had to ask for names since she didn’t know anyone yet, but she rarely had to write down an actual order.
****
Cole couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Aftyn moved through the diner like she’d been doing it for years, ponytail swinging with each turn, laughing at someone’s joke, touching a regular’s arm, somehow keeping every coffee order straight without writing a thing down.
That was Clifton. A place where the vinyl booths had absorbed decades of conversation, where the bell above the door jingled so often the locals had stopped hearing it, where a dusty stranger passing through could find themselves showing family photos before their food arrived.
He’d lived here his whole life, watched Main Street shift from green to orange to white and back again with every season.
Things had changed when Becca Stone converted her grandmother’s old colonial on the edge of town into the Clifton Bed and Breakfast. Between that and the Bur Oak Guest Ranch over in Spring City, the three towns of Clifton, Hartland, and Spring City had found a rhythm together.
The B&B ran from May through October, the guest ranch March through August, and during those months the sidewalks filled with sunburned tourists and cash registers rang from morning to close.
Bakeries, antique shops, boutiques selling local crafts. The town had bloomed, and nobody was complaining.
Aftyn set a mug in front of him and poured without being asked, the smell of fresh coffee rising between them. He wrapped his fingers around the handle.
“Thank you.”
“Breakfast will be up in a few minutes.”
“No hurry,” he said, and meant it.
Their eyes met, hers the color of a clear sky, until a gruff voice from across the diner broke it. She carried the carafe to a weather-beaten farmer in overalls and topped off his coffee, laughing at something he said. Cole watched her and couldn’t help smiling.
She came back with his plate, a western omelet flecked with red and green peppers, along with hashbrown potatoes. His stomach growled before she even set it down. She raised an eyebrow.
“Sounds like I’m right on time.”
“To say I’m hungry would be an understatement.”
“Enjoy. Let me know if you need anything.” A strand of hair slipped loose from her ponytail as she tucked the order pad into her apron and moved on.
Cole picked up his fork and cut into the omelet. Cheese pulled between the pieces. He took a bite and the groan came out before he could stop it, which made Mr. Barton chuckle beside him.
****
Aftyn turned to the coffee machines and measured out fresh grounds, her mind drifting back to Cole.
Those eyes, deep green, the kind of green you’d find in a shaded forest. And that smile.
It didn’t just touch his mouth, it took over his whole face, dimples and all.
She’d noticed his lashes too, thick and naturally curled, the kind she’d spend good money on mascara trying to fake.
She pushed the thought aside. Even if she weren’t just passing through, she had bigger things to deal with. Finding Avery was the priority. And men in general were not something she was in the market for. Judd had seen to that.
The bell jingled and three more cowboys came through the door.
She slipped into the kitchen during a lull and dropped onto the stool by the prep counter, letting out a long breath that ruffled her bangs. Owen glanced over from the griddle, spatula in hand.
“Harder than you remember?”
“I waited tables from eighteen to twenty to pay for school and I thought I remembered what it was like.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I was wrong. I’ll head back out in a second. I don’t want Connie thinking I’ve disappeared.”
Owen chuckled. “She won’t think that. The morning rush hits hard. Those folks out there have been coming in for years. They know how it goes.”
Connie pushed through the kitchen doors, cheeks flushed, cherry apron slightly askew. “That they do.”
“I’ll get back to it.” Aftyn slid off the stool, wincing as her calves protested.
“No, hon. Take a breath. You’ve been running since dawn.” Connie’s eyes crinkled at the corners.
“Is every morning like this?”
Connie and Owen exchanged a look, then both laughed.
“Every single one,” Connie said. “Lunch is busy too, but nothing like this. The ranchers are out working by then. Dinner slows way down.” She nodded toward the door. “That clawfoot tub will help. Trust me.”
“I discovered that last night. I nearly fell asleep in it.”
“Best investment I ever insisted on when we built our house. Owen thought I was crazy.”
“I didn’t say crazy,” Owen called from the griddle. “I said expensive.”
Aftyn laughed. “I understand it completely now. I’d fight for one too.”
“Stop by Randi’s Scented Haven across the street when you get a chance. She makes bath salts, soaps, and candles. That tub becomes a whole different experience.”
“Once my wallet has something in it, that’s my first stop.”
“Every shop in this town is locally owned.” Connie glanced out toward the dining room. “We became a tourist town almost by accident. Some people come to visit and never leave.”
“I’m starting to see why.”
Connie smiled. “I’d better get those plates out.”
“Right behind you.”
The rest of the shift passed in a blur of coffee refills and clinking plates. By the time it was over, Aftyn could barely lift her feet on the stairs up to the apartment. She smiled thinking about the advance Connie had given her. Tomorrow she’d finally be able to pick up a few things she needed.
Later, as twilight turned the windows purple, Aftyn sat on the burgundy sofa and worked at the knots in her calves.
The cushions were soft and forgiving. Seventeen years since she’d waited tables, but the muscle memory was coming back.
So was the satisfaction of it, the clinking silverware, the snatches of strangers’ conversations, the particular rhythm of a busy room.
She’d forgotten how much she liked people, really liked them, not as patients to be monitored and charted but as human beings with opinions about the weather and strong feelings about their coffee.
She groaned her way to her feet and shuffled to the door, checking all three locks plus the knob. A lot of hardware for such a friendly town, but not her mystery to solve. She made a mental note to ask Connie about it when the moment was right.
The tub was waiting.
She ran it hot, sank in slowly, and let the ache seep out of her. The bathroom was small, but the ceiling was high, and someone years ago had painted it the palest shade of blue, like the inside of a cloud. She stared up at it until her eyes closed.
Connie had set her up with the five to one shift, weekdays only, the weekend girls having that covered.
It was perfect. Long afternoons free to explore the town once she had something to spend.
For now, it was window shopping, her nose pressed to glass, mentally furnishing a life she wasn’t staying long enough to live.
Her bank account was almost as empty as the refrigerator, but for the first time in weeks she didn’t feel like she was drowning.
She felt, oddly, like she might be exactly where she was supposed to be.
For now, anyway.