Chapter 1
ONE
PRESENT DAY
The first thing Jane noticed as she steered her sedan off the highway onto the winding country road leading to her hometown was the crows. A massive flock of crows flitting through the ominous gray sky like flecks of pepper spilled across the kitchen floor. A shiver slipped up her spine as that image called to mind another one—over a decade old now but still fresh—the fear in Mom’s eyes as she rushed to get the broom and hide the broken salt and pepper shakers in the garbage before Dad got home.
You never knew. Dad might have laughed affectionately and made a joke about Mom’s clumsiness. Or he might’ve?—
Jane shook her head, focusing on the double yellow line bisecting the road in front of her. The only thing predictable about men like Dad was that you could never really predict anything. There might be long stretches where everything seemed like it was going to be okay. So, you’d get comfortable, let your guard down for just a moment, and start to believe that they really intended to change.
And that’s when they would hurt you the most.
Jane peered into the growing darkness down the road ahead. Nobody would be bracing themselves for Dad’s reactions ever again. It was the only way she’d been able to come home, back to the blustery Western New York town where she’d spent her childhood. Back to these old stone farmhouses, the skeleton trees stripped bare of their leaves by the lake wind, and those crows.
If Jane were the superstitious sort, she’d think those crows were an omen, but of what she had no idea. Hannah would know. Hannah, who used to flip to the last page of the local newspaper every day at the school lunch table and read their horoscopes aloud over their trays of cafeteria pizza. Hannah would’ve spotted those crows and grabbed Jane’s arm in excitement.
Jane, do you know what this means? Crows are a symbol of good fortune. This is a very auspicious sign.
But Jane hadn’t talked to Hannah since the day she’d taken off, down this same country road over a decade ago, on her way out of town. She hadn’t talked to any of her old friends—Hannah, Ali… Nik—and the chances of that changing on this trip were non-existent. No, Jane would be here just long enough to figure out what to do next. There was nothing auspicious about it.
Jane glanced in the rearview mirror to check on her sleeping daughter in the back seat. This trip had been hard on Scarlett. In a lot of ways, Scarlett had been forced to grow up faster than other kids her age. She’d understood why they had to go. But still, she was only nine. Packing up everything that was important to her—and leaving some things behind so it wasn’t obvious they weren’t coming back—would be terrifying for any kid.
Jane had been there once.
She slowed the car as she approached the same old sign that had welcomed people to Linden Falls for her entire life. It looked a little worse for wear—the blue faded to more of a dull gray now—but then again, maybe it had always looked like that. Everything lacked a certain luster compared to the artificial gleam of Los Angeles.
Jane’s car coasted down Spring Street past the Grassroots Café, the coffee shop where she used to play her guitar and sing in the Saturday open mic nights. A sign in the window told her that Pete, the café’s owner, still hosted those music showcases, but Jane looked away before she could see the name of whichever musician would be featured. She didn’t want to know if she knew them, didn’t want to know who’d replaced her.
Next up on Spring Street was the library, where Jane had spent more hours of her life than she could count. It was the sort of place you could hide out without anyone knowing that’s what you were doing. Dad had certainly never set foot in there. He’d tossed an occasional police thriller into his bag for fishing trips, but books hadn’t really held his interest.
Jane kept driving, her gaze slowly oscillating from the store fronts on one side of the street to the other. Except for the displays in the windows and a new sign on the dry cleaners, Jane could have been looking at the town on the day she left a decade ago. Another contrast to LA, where the restaurants and shops came and went so quickly nobody ever got too attached. Nobody got attached to much of anything in LA.
When the town’s municipal building came into view, decked out with a two-story Christmas tree, twinkling lights, and a life-sized nativity scene, the realization sank like a stone in Jane’s gut.
Christmas is in a few days.
How could she have forgotten? I might be the worst mother in the entire world. Glancing into the back seat again, Jane’s gaze traced her daughter’s face, from her long eyelashes fanned out against her flushed cheeks to the well-loved stuffed elephant tucked under her chin. When Scarlett was asleep like this, she still reminded Jane of a tiny baby passed out on her chest, little mouth working on an invisible bottle in her dreams .
Jane wished she could go back to those days, when everything still felt full of possibility and hope. The days when she’d still believed Matteo would be a good partner and father. Before she knew who he really was. Or at least when she’d still been able to convince herself otherwise.
Scarlett hadn’t reminded her about the upcoming holiday. She’d never really believed in Santa—Matteo had disabused her of that notion when she was practically a toddler. And back in LA, the holidays were usually more stressful than festive. The club where he worked was busy, crowded, and Matteo had to juggle all the regular patrons plus private parties. It left him tired, cranky, and—when he got home after a long day—ready to pick a fight.
Jane eased the steering wheel to the right and pulled up next to the curb in front of Ford’s Hardware and General Store. Scarlett didn’t even stir when Jane engaged the parking brake and turned off the engine. Jane considered waking her daughter, but then she wouldn’t be able to buy her a present in secret. So instead, she climbed from the vehicle, careful to close the door gently. Then she circled the car, checking the locks. It was silly, Linden Falls was the safest place on Earth, and she’d managed to get a spot right in front. The car would be visible through the wide window the entire time.
Still, Jane hesitated on the sidewalk. She’d been hoping to avoid downtown Linden Falls entirely, to head straight for Mom’s house and hide out until she could make a more permanent plan for her and Scarlett. Past experience had taught her that it would be nearly impossible to move through this town without running into someone she knew. But her desire to give Scarlett some semblance of a normal Christmas outweighed her fear of being spotted by an old acquaintance. Besides, it had been a decade. Maybe nobody would remember her.
Jane took a deep breath before pushing the door open. She was greeted by the cheerful jingle of the bells attached to the handle and the smell of cut wood, paint, and a mix of holiday spice. A quick glance at the cash register had her shoulders relaxing. It looked like a high school kid was working today, and he wouldn’t have been more than five or six when she’d left town. Maybe she’d get out of here unnoticed after all.
Jane’s gaze skated past the pile of snow shovels, an aisle full of kitchen gadgets, and a display advertising jars of local honey. It was a mystery how this place hadn’t been run out of business by the Walmart out on Route 8.
Jane made her way down an aisle displaying holiday candles in scents like Sugar Cookie and Pine Bough , and then up another lined with an assortment of toys. Her eyes were immediately drawn to an enormous box with a blond character standing in front of a Victorian house in various shades of pink. A Lego set of the Barbie Dream House. Jane ran a hand along the edge of the box. Scarlett would love this. But then Jane looked at the price and audibly gasped. A hundred and twenty-four dollars?
She backed away slowly. A hundred and twenty-four dollars was a huge chunk of the meager savings she had in her purse. The money she’d managed to wheedle from Matteo and squirrel away for this trip. All the money I have in the world. Exhaling a shaky breath, Jane turned to the other side of the aisle. Who wanted a gaudy cotton-candy house with a skinny blond doll anyway? She grabbed a sketchpad and a pack of colorful pens. Total: $26 plus tax. Still a significant amount of money, but it was Christmas, and Scarlett deserved it.
Jane spun on her heel to find the wrapping paper aisle, and in front of her stood a sixty-something woman wearing an unironic holiday sweater and a disapproving expression on her face. Edna Swanson, the receptionist at the police station where Dad had been chief for over two decades. She’d put on a few pounds and her hair was grayer than the last time Jane had seen her, but Jane would recognize that scowl anywhere .
Mrs. Swanson looked her up and down. “Jane McCaffrey. What a surprise to see you here.”
“Oh, hi, Mrs. Swanson. It’s—uh.” Jane shifted the gifts in her arms. “It’s good to see you.” She forced a smile to cover up the lie.
“I suppose you’re here to see your mother.”
“Yeah. Just for—probably for a week or so.”
Mrs. Swanson’s lips twisted with displeasure. “We were surprised that we didn’t see you this fall for the funeral. But your mother said you were busy with work.”
She did? Jane wondered what other stories her mother had been telling about her for the past ten years. Anything so people wouldn’t learn the real reason the great Chief McCaffrey’s daughter had taken off without a word.
Mrs. Swanson shook her head. “It was very hard on your mother, you know. Such a tragedy.” She pressed a hand to her heart, face crumpling. “Your father in the prime of his life.”
Jane stood back while the older woman dabbed at her eyes, knowing that anything she said would only prolong this.
Finally, Mrs. Swanson’s face folded back into a scowl. “Your poor mother couldn’t eat or sleep for weeks. She’s lucky she had the town to rally around her since her own daughter was too busy.”
Jane’s chest began to burn. Oh, yeah? Where had the town been all those years when Mom had shown up with another cast on her arm or bandage on her hand? Were they rallying around her when their eyes darted over Mom’s shoulder to avoid looking at the bruises on her face? How many ladders did they really believe Mom had fallen from?
But before Jane could let her anger spill out, a tall, dark-haired man carrying a shopping basket turned the corner at the end of the aisle and began making his way toward them. Jane moved to the side to make room, but before he could pass, Mrs. Swanson beamed and fluttered her eyelashes. “Hello, Nikolas. It’s lovely to see you.”
Jane barely heard what the man said in return because she was busy stumbling sideways into the Barbie Dream House.
Did she say Nikolas?
Her gaze whipped in the direction of the man, and she had to tilt her head back to see his face. The last time she’d laid eyes on Nik, he’d been a skinny teenager with messy hair, glasses slightly askew, and a pair of headphones permanently stuck to his ears with the tinny sound of Radiohead playing through the speakers. He couldn’t have been more than a few inches taller than her own five-foot six frame, and he’d practically lived in a worn flannel button-up.
This Nikolas was well over six feet tall with dark hair carefully styled back off his bronze forehead and a close-cropped beard on his handsome jaw. Under his Patagonia puffer jacket, Jane could make out broad shoulders and a pair of light blue scrubs. This guy looked like he’d fit right in on the set of any network hospital drama.
This couldn’t be the same Nik, could it?
But then his dark eyes met hers and, for a moment, Jane wondered if she were back on the Southern California fault line because the earth shifted beneath her feet. There was no mistaking those eyes.
Jane knew the moment he recognized her because his head jerked back as if she’d slapped him. Keeping his eyes on her face, he slowly lowered his shopping basket to the floor. “Mrs. Swanson, can I carry your packages to the register for you?” he asked the older woman.
“Aren’t you sweet? Here you go, young man.” Mrs. Swanson handed over her wrapping paper and hand cream, shuffling down the aisle.
Nik adjusted the packages in his arms, all the while keeping his gaze glued to Jane’s. Her heart pitched and she struggled to breathe air into her lungs. Finally, he turned and followed Mrs. Swanson.
As soon as Nik rounded the corner, Jane took off in the opposite direction. Of all people, Nik was the last person she’d expected to see. She never would have stopped at this store if she’d had even an inkling that he’d be here. She never would have stopped in this town . They’d always talked about getting out of here for good, but his scrubs and local hospital ID badge implied he was on his way home from work, not just here for a weekend to visit his mom.
How did Nik end up living in Linden Falls, a good Samaritan carrying old ladies’ packages and working at the local hospital, while Jane was that selfish McCaffrey girl who’d abandoned her family and didn’t even bother to come home for her own father’s funeral?
Jane did her best to shrug off that thought. It was infinitely better if she let them all believe that. And best if she and Scarlett hid out at Mom’s for the next few days and then got the hell out of town for another decade. Or forever.
But if Nik came looking for her, it was going to be a lot harder to pull that off.
She’d have to run past the register to leave out the front door, so instead, she made her way to the far side of the store, ducking into the feminine hygiene aisle. Through a space between shelves, she spotted her car parked by the sidewalk, the top of Scarlett’s sleeping head pressed against the window. Could Jane duck out the back door and run around the building? Or was it better to wait it out here and not risk running into Nik again out on the sidewalk?
As she debated her options, a blur of dark hair and blue jacket flashed at the end of the aisle. Refusing to look up, she picked up a box of tampons and examined it closely. Maybe he’d keep walking. What man would stop to talk to a woman in the tampon aisle ?
But then: “Jane.”
She picked up another box and kept reading. Organic cotton—interesting.
“ Jane. ” Now he towered over her, less than an arm’s length away. “Can we talk for a minute?”
His voice vibrated through her, as familiar as her own. She’d been hearing that voice in her dreams for a decade.
Releasing a shaky breath, she slowly lowered the box and looked up. “Oh. Hey.” She forced a lightness into her tone, like they were nothing but two high school acquaintances home for the holidays. Like she wasn’t crumpling the box in her hands to keep them from shaking.
Nik shifted his weight. “What are you doing here?”
Jane blinked. “Uh—” She curved her mouth into a rueful smile as she waved the tampon box at him. “You know. Just some shopping.”
He didn’t even glance at the box, his dark eyes stayed laser-focused on her. “What are you doing in town ?”
“Oh. Right.” Jane tossed the tampon box back on the shelf. “I—uh.” She probably should have thought up a good story in advance in case anyone asked. But she’d been in survival mode since they’d left LA, and she hadn’t been able to think further ahead than the next truck stop. “I—just came home to help my mom with some of my dad’s stuff,” she improvised. “The will and death certificates. Sorting the mess in the basement. All that stuff.”
If Nik still lived here, he’d have heard about Dad’s passing. Chief McCaffrey’s death had made the front page of the local newspaper, and so had the funeral. Jane had googled it just to be sure he was really gone.
Nik’s brown eyes softened. “I’m sorry about your dad.”
Jane looked away. “Yeah, well, that makes one of us.”
“Jane, listen?—”
She cut him off. “It was nice seeing you.” Her attention snagged on the ID tag with his photo hanging around his neck. Linden Falls Hospital , Nikolas Andino, MD. So, he did live here in town. Jane wasn’t sure what to think about that. She’d always imagined him somewhere new. Not spending his days in all the places they used to spend their days together. “ Doctor Andino ,” she couldn’t help but add.
Nik glanced down at his ID tag, and then back to her face. His gaze roamed over her, and then he flinched. The next thing Jane knew, he was reaching out, sliding his palm under her chin, taking it in his hand. She sucked in a breath at the heat of his touch. How was it possible he left her feeling so shaken, all these years later? Why wasn’t she stepping back, away from him? Instead, she found herself leaning in. Nik angled her face so he could get a better look at her left side, and then Jane remembered.
The cut under her eye, and the purple bruise radiating from it.
“Are you okay?” Nik’s thumb stroked her cheek. “That’s a pretty nasty bruise.” His voice was so caring, his touch so gentle, and inexplicably, she was tempted to open her mouth and spill her secrets.
What is the matter with me?
She jerked away, pressing a palm to her cheek. “Oh… this is nothing,” she said, forcing her voice to sound casual. “We have this—cabinet that hangs at a weird angle and I’m always running into it.” It was the same story she gave the trucker in Kansas, and the waitress in Indianapolis.
But Nik tilted his head and stared for a beat too long. Could he see right through her? He’d always been able to before. She held her breath. Finally, he nodded slowly, face skeptical, but at least he didn’t ask any more questions.
Jane exhaled.
“I’d heard a rumor you live somewhere out in California,” Nik said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“Yeah. Um. Los Angeles.” Though Jane had cut ties with everyone in Linden Falls, she’d kept in touch with Mom. They talked a few times a year, usually when Dad was on one of his fishing trips and there was no danger of him walking in and finding Mom FaceTiming with Scarlett. But this town was full of gossips, and there had to be speculation about Chief McCaffrey’s only daughter, and why she never came home. What had Mom told them? What had Nik heard about her?
The silence stretched between them, unbearable and awkward. There was so much unsaid but, somehow, they had nothing to say. They used to talk endlessly all afternoon and then go home and text each other all evening.
“Well… I should be going.” Jane took a couple of steps backward down the aisle. “Tell your mom I said hi.”
“Sure.” Nik nodded, and if he was sorry to see her leave, he hid it well. She had no right for that to bother her. “You too.”
With that, Jane turned and fled.
She’d made it to the end of the aisle when Nik called out to her. “Jane, wait.”
Jane pretended she didn’t hear him, hurrying to the register to drop some cash on the counter for Scarlett’s gifts and run for the door. She needed to get as far away from Nik as possible.
Because she might have been away for a decade, but all it took was five minutes in his presence and a gentle hand on her cheek for him to burrow through her defenses. If she kept this up, it would only be a matter of time before he figured out why she’d really left this town.
And why she could never stop running.