Page 45 of The Art Of Starting Over

Lee chuckled. “A man of few words our sheriff is, that’s for sure. He’s happy you and Maren are back in Oyster Bay, though.”

“Really? Did he say that?” Dev asked.

“He did. He’s very proud of you.”

Devy stepped back and met Hayden’s gaze. Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, and Hayden suspected that might have been the first time Crow had ever said anything of the sort. Everyone in town knew Crow had a rocky relationship with his kids, so hearing him say this sort of thing to someone else had probably hit Devy square in the chest.

Devorah and Hayden walked side by side toward a set of bleachers. Devy chose the bottom row. Hayden sat next to her and extended his long legs out in front of him.

“Don’t want to sit higher up?”

She shook her head. “I’m less visible here.”

Hayden looked around. He smiled when smiled at and waved a couple of times. “No one will bother you. Not here at least.”

His words seemed to fall on deaf ears, and he accepted that. If someone even came up to Devorah and said something about what was going on, Hayden would have words with them. There was a time and a place, and it wasn’t Oyster Bay.

Thirteen

Devorah

The rain stopped before the kids took the field. Devy groaned when she saw Maren step in a puddle. This girl was going to be the death of her. She loved her daughter fiercely but wanted to wring her neck for getting her shoes and socks wet.

“Put newspaper in her shoes when she gets home.”

The voice behind Devy caused her to turn around. Beatrice Sherman sat behind Hayden and her, dressed from head to toe in Oyster Bay baseball gear. She pointed toward the field. “My grandson is out there,” she said.

Beatrice was part of the Crafty Cathys and one of the women who helped Crow out after Devy’s mother died. Each day, Beatrice would come over with some type of casserole or roast and make sure everything was okay. This lasted a month until Crow told her to never come back.

Beatrice looked at Devy, who hadn’t taken her eyes off the woman. “It’s good to see you again,” Bea said. “You need to stop by the office and visit Theo. He’ll help you file your divorce papers.”

“I—uh—” She planned to say she hadn’t thought about filing any papers, but the fact was, it was all she thought about at night. Devy had visions of a process server showing up at Ester’s house, with Chad answering the door buck-ass naked. In her mind, the process serverlaughed at Chad and slapped the papers against his chest. Also in her mind, Devy got everything—the house, the money, and the satisfaction of knowing she was the one who’d filed first.

“You will divorce that disgusting man, and Theo will take care of it for you. Don’t you worry about the money, sweetie. Your mom was one of us. We’ll take care of it.”

Bea left Devy speechless. She turned back around and caught Hayden looking at her. He winked. “See, not all are bad.”

“One good apple doesn’t give you a viable orchard,” she said.

“We have two apples. My mom and Bea.”

“Still not enough to make apple pie.”

Hayden scoffed lightly. “Just think, if he ever returns to town, the Crafty Cathys will filet him alive.”

“I’d like to see that.”

“Me too,” Hayden mumbled.

He leaned closer to Devy, their shoulders touching. Instead of moving over a smidge to put space between them, she stayed where she was and watched as the group of kids did as the coaches instructed.

“Who’s the coach?”

“Dalton Noble. He’s two years older than Colt and me.”

“I don’t remember him.”

“Really? He played baseball with us and definitely hung out at your house.”

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