The Hooded Man of Elm Hollow
Sloane
Dad: Sweetheart, want to grab a coffee together?
Me: Sorry, Dad… I just finished working.
Dad: You work too much! How about some tea? It’s too late for coffee.
Me: I’ll wait for you at Pumpkin Spice, Ivy’s butter cookies are perfect with tea!
It’s been half an hour since the debrief with Cohen, and my heart rate still hasn’t returned to anything resembling human.
Thankfully, the upside of today is that I get to spend some time with my dad.
So instead of torturing myself in my office, I escape to the most therapeutic place in Elm Hollow: Pumpkin Spice Café.
I push the door open and I’m immediately wrapped in the smell of coffee, vanilla, and cookies. Inside it’s all twinkle lights, smutty paperbacks, and mismatched mugs.
“Sloane Heart in the flesh!” Ivy calls from behind the counter.
She’s in an orange sweater, her red hair pulled into a messy braid, and her smile feels like coming home.
Cam, perched on a stool beside her, lifts a hand in greeting. I smile back.
I shrug off my coat and set it, along with my bag, on the small table by the window—the one with the perfect view of the pumpkin-decorated square and orange garlands.
Outside, a few leaves drift lazily down. Inside, autumn chaos hums in a cozy way.
“Dad’s on his way,” I announce, checking my phone.
Ivy looks at me with that soft, knowing smile. She knows how much I love spending time with him. “Want me to make something special for you two?”
I smile, already feeling better. “Earl Grey and your magical butter cookies.”
My mouth is already watering.
Since I’m early, I step closer to the counter to chat with Ivy and Cam.
I notice they were reading the Elm Hollow Gazette. I just hope there aren’t any new inquisitorial articles about Cam, although… judging by Ivy’s little smirk, probably not.
I arch a brow at the paper and smile, already bracing for whatever fresh nonsense this town has cooked up now.
“Okay, what happened this time? Another horse escaped from the Sunrise Ranch paddock?”
Cam, now leaning against the counter, lifts the newspaper and shows me the center spread.
A bold headline jumps out at me:
FEAR AND LOATHING IN ELM HOLLOW: HOODED MAN ROAMS THE STREETS
by Francis Grande — reporter, pie judge, and honorary president of the “ChitChat he smiles, and the dimples my mom adores appear.
“Sweetheart!”
I stand, breathe, and pull myself together.
Dad shrugs off his coat, kisses my cheek, and sits down across from me.
Ivy appears with a steaming tray: two cups of tea, a plate of butter cookies, and a conspiratorial smile that clearly says I’ll leave you to your father–daughter moment.
Dad takes a cookie right away… I had to get my sweet tooth from someone.
“Divine,” he says through a mouthful.
Ivy blushes just a little, and the smile she gives him is pure affection. Elm Hollow adores Julian Heart—and, despite everything, he adores it right back.
He’s got a heart of gold, really.
Not as a coach—that’s his grumpy side—but as a father, husband, and model citizen.
“So, how’s work?” he asks, drizzling a bit of honey into his tea.
“Intense. But good. I think.”
“Has Becker told you about the changes yet?”
I nod, wrapping my hands around the cup to warm my fingers. “Yeah. He told me this afternoon.”
Dad nods, serious but pleased. “I didn’t think he’d take this so seriously. You’re doing a good job with him.”
I try to keep my expression neutral.
I’m not sure whether to laugh or throw myself out of Pumpkin Spice and change my name.
“Yeah, he’s… cooperative.”
Cooperative like a feral cat, but sure.
Why am I covering for him with my father? I have absolutely no idea. I must be missing a few screws.
I take a sip of tea, trying not to picture Cohen Becker “cooperating.”
Time to change the subject.
“Dad… I’m sorry you have to go back to the field already,” I admit, trying not to sound like a little girl.
He sighs, and his smile softens.
“Sweetheart, I stayed longer than planned as it is. We’ve got a game in Lakewood in a couple of weeks. Your mom told me you two are coming to watch.”
My face lights up. “Really? I didn’t know that!”
“It was her idea,” he says, smiling. “You know she loves coming to see us play when we’re nearby.”
I can’t help smiling. I have so many good memories of me and Mom cheering for him in the stands. We go whenever we can, actually. I just didn’t think we’d manage it this time—this season’s been intense for both our jobs.
Dad studies me for a moment, then leans back in his chair.
His gaze turns a little more serious.
“You know, I was thinking… after this season, I might stay home for a while.”
My head snaps up. “Really?”
“Yeah. I think it’s time I take a break. Focus on family, on your mom, on you. You two have been patient long enough.”
My heart squeezes—in the good way.
“Dad, that would be amazing. Really.”
He smiles and traces the rim of his cup with a finger.
“I just need to sort out a couple of things with the team first, then we’ll see. I don’t want to promise too much, but… yes. I think it’s time.”
I press a hand to my chest, happy as a kid.
“Mom is going to be over the moon. Finally no endless trips, no more dinner over video calls…”
I trail off when a thought crosses my mind.
Is that what they were whispering about the other morning?
And why didn’t Mom come today?
I push the thought away immediately.
There can’t be anything wrong between them. My parents are the picture of steady, comforting love.
They had me when they were really young, but they never split. They never gave up. They’ve always been proud of our little family. Even though Mom got pregnant at seventeen, they never once treated it like a mistake. And Dad has always worked hard to give us every comfort.
I take another sip of tea. It tastes sweeter than usual—maybe because of the emotion swelling in my chest.
That fleeting thought tries to sneak back in—there’s no trouble between them… right?
I shove it away again. Why is my brain like this?
Impossible. My parents are the perfect couple.
He’s the charismatic coach, she’s the elegant, sunny woman.
Solid, honest love—the kind that grows with time.
“Sloane?”
“Mh?”
“You’re already overthinking, aren’t you?” Dad asks, smiling.
“Me? No, I was just… thinking that we’ll finally get more time together.”
“And I can’t wait for that, sweetheart.”
He pours a little more tea into my cup and breaks a cookie in half for me.
And in that moment, with the scent of butter and bergamot in the air, the world feels perfect again.
Dad looks at me and smiles once more.
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too, Dad.”