Page 39 of Grumpy on the Mountain
I know their house. The formal living room no one used, the study with all those medals displayed.
I know things about Beau too.
Riley talked about him constantly, though rarely kindly. "The golden boy." "Dad's favorite." "The perfect soldier." Always with that edge of bitterness that should have sent alarm bells ringing, but somehow, never did.
I remember now. Beau sent his mother a hand-carved jewelry box for her birthday once. Riley mocked it, but Mrs. Callahan cried when she opened it.
I know Beau. Not just the man I'm falling for, but pieces of who he was before.
God, what a mess.
What would Riley say if he knew I kissed him? The thought should bother me more than it does, but I realize I haven't really thought about Riley in days.
He's becoming a memory, fading like an old photograph.
I glance at the clock. I've literally got the whole day before me, open and full of possibility.
I could stay here, curl up with a book. Or I could venture into town. Maybe look at job possibilities. Perhaps even find a place of my own.
Move on and start to get on with my life.Mylife.
The thought gives me a little thrill.
I realize I don't have my phone and that creates an unexpected freedom. No texts to answer. No social media to check. No Riley trying to track my location with that app he insisted he installed 'to protect me'.
Though I do wish I could take a photo of the adorable snowman someone has wrapped a scarf around in the neighbor's yard.
Either way, I grab Sienna's spare coat and head out into the bright morning.
Main Street looks magical today. Quaint storefronts with snow-dusted awnings lining both sides of the street. Wrought-iron lampposts are wrapped with evergreen garlands despite Christmas being months past.
A man in a heavy plaid coat shovels the sidewalk in front of a bookstore I will visit later, while across the street, a woman arranges a window display of colorful handmade quilts.
But as I walk, I notice something odd.
People are looking at me.
Not just casual glances like we had in the tavern last night, but the kind of interested stares that suggest I'm somehow…fascinating.
Maybe they're just friendly? Stone River Mountain seems like the kind of place where everyone knows everyone.
But when I catch a middle-aged couple whispering and smiling in my direction, I start to wonder if I have something on my face.
The Bear Paw Café beckons me quicker than I had planned, and I push open the door, grateful for the prospect of hot chocolate and a moment to collect myself.
The café is bustling with morning customers, all of whom seem to notice my entrance at once.
A momentary hush falls over the room, just like it did last night, but then it's followed immediately by an eruption of too-casual conversation.
It's the kind of silence-then-noise that happens when you walk in on people who were just talking about you.
Betty spots me from behind the counter and her face lights up like I'm her long-lost daughter.
"Well if it isn't our local heroine!" she calls, waving me over. "I hear you and Beau make quite the rescue team."
My stomach drops as I remove my coat. "News travels fast around here..."
Betty's laugh is rich. "Honey, in Stone River, news doesn't travel… it teleports. Now, what can I get you? On the house, of course."
