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library?”

“Quiet,” I deadpan and then start heartily laughing at my own joke. I’ve learned to hide my quirky sense of humor from a lot of people, but Violet never judges me, and she’s the one person I can truly be myself around.

“Hey, Violet.” A man interrupts us, and I sober up quickly.

I turn my head so fast, I almost get dizzy. But there’s no doubt in my mind who that voice belongs to. “Evan McCarthy,” I breathe out low.

When he turns to look at me, I suck in a breath because it’s then I realize that I said that out loud.

He stops next to me, shaking his head with his eyes scrunched up. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?” he asks.

My heart plummets in my chest. The man I’ve been pretty much been in love with almost half my life doesn’t even have a clue who I am. If that’s not a reality check, I don’t know what is. “No.” I shake my head, avoiding looking into his eyes. I could stand here all day looking at him. He hasn’t changed a lot in the four years since I’d seen him. He’s bigger. His shoulders are broader, his face more chiseled. But before I make an even bigger fool of myself, I look over at Violet, who’s staring at me with sympathy. “Look, I have to get back to work, Violet. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

I don’t wait for her to respond. I grab my now empty bag and rush from the diner, not daring to look back.

2

Evan

The woman couldn’t get out of here fast enough. I watch her all the way to the door before I turn to Violet. “What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything,” Violet says, but I don’t believe her. “I’m glad you’re home, Evan.”

I nod. “Yeah, me too. I’m sorry...” I start to apologize for just now coming to see her, but she waves me off.

“So a new security system. Can you help me out?”

I hold my hands up. I should just let it go, but the image of the stranger’s retreating form is still in my head. “Wait. Who was that? She looks familiar, but I swear I can’t place her.”

Violet takes a deep breath. “That’s Sierra Jensen. She went to...”

I interrupt her. “High school with me. That’s Sierra? The skinny girl with glasses and braces and her face always in a book?”

Violet winces at my description. “Yeah, that’s the one. My friend that’s smart and beautiful. The youngest librarian ever hired in Whiskey Run,” she adds.

As if just realizing what I said and how it sounded, I start to backtrack. “I didn’t mean...”

But Violet waves me off. “I know you didn’t. It was a long time ago.”

“She was always nice to me. Helped me in English. I wouldn’t have passed Mrs. Rigsby’s class without her.”

“That’s Sierra for you. She’ll help anyone.” She shakes her head with her forehead creased. “So can you look around and give me a quote on what I need?”

I keep looking toward the door, thinking that Sierra might come back. It looks like she left her cake and her coffee, but I nod at Violet. “Yeah, give me a few minutes. I’ll take a look around and get out of your hair.”

“No rush. It’s a while before we get busy.”

I walk away. Doing the quote is going to be easy, but I still want to see how dated her current equipment is. I do my job, but the whole time I’m thinking about Sierra and her reaction to me. The soft almost breathless way she said my name is still replaying in my head. Did she leave the way she did because I didn’t recognize her? Was I mean to her in high school and not remember it? Why did she just leave like that? If I’d given it more time before opening my mouth I would have made the connection to who she is. The truth is, she has changed a lot since high school. She was pretty then, in a plain way. She always had a quiet way she carried herself, and I noticed her more than once. But back then, I knew someone as smart as her wouldn’t have anything to do with a jock like me.

Once I’m finished taking notes, I go back to the counter where Violet is boxing up the cake and pouring fresh coffee into a to go cup. “I’ll put together a quote later today and drop it off to you.”

“Sounds good.” She smiles at me, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

I’m about to turn and go but stop, remembering one of the things I need to talk to Violet about. “Hey, I never did thank you. While I was in the service, I received all the food and treats from the Whiskey Run Homecoming Committee. I know you had something to do with that, and I just want you to know I really appreciate it. It meant a lot to have a taste of home while I was gone.”

But she shakes her head with a smirk on her face. “That wasn’t me.”

I stutter, embarrassed. “Oh, I just thought....”

“No, that was Sierra that did that. She sent the care packages out to you every week.”

“Sierra.” I say her name real slow. Sierra, the woman I was just rude to. She’s the one that sent me a package every week. The one thing I looked forward to each week. Not only did she put in cookies and treats, she put in writing paper and pens, but she also always wrote a very sweet note thanking me for my service and that she hoped I was doing okay. But instead of signing it with her name, she always signed it Whiskey Run Homecoming Committee.

Violet is nodding her head

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