Page 94 of Return of the Bad Girl (Rock Canyon, Idaho 4)

“They were . . . I mean, are . . . I don’t know. I think I may be in over my head. He wants me to meet his sister, and I said okay, but then I just took off for this trip without saying anything to him.”

“Okay, so, you snuck out on him, after he asked you to meet his sister? Why, for God’s sake?” Val asked.

“Because . . . you don’t know Gabe, okay? Meeting his sister is a big deal, and I’m just scared that—I don’t know; maybe I’m just not ready.”

“So, what’s your plan, Caroline? To never come back, and then you won’t have to deal with your feelings?” Val laughed into the phone, the sound coarse and angry. “God, and I thought you were finally maturing. Getting shit off your chest and moving on, but I was just seeing what—and who—I wanted to see.”

“I didn’t say I was moving here! I just got offered a bar ten minutes ago, and I haven’t accepted it yet.”

“ ‘Yet’ being the operative term,” Val said. “You know what? If you want it, take it. Just go. We got along without you before, so it won’t be any different the second time around.”

“You’re acting like a brat.”

“And you’re a fucking hypocrite! All that bullshit about changing and putting old feuds to rest was a crock. You act like you’ve put in so much effort, but you were gone twelve years, Caroline. That is a lot of time to make up for in a month.”

“Who says I want to make anything up to anyone? I was happy being on my own.”

“If that’s what you call happy, then I feel sorry for you, because only a person who’s completely broken would think that’s a life.”

Val hung up before Caroline could respond, but the words rushed through her, shaking her to her core. She took several breaths, trying to calm the flood of emotions.

But isn’t that what you always thought happiness was? Freedom? That all the men, all the nights drinking away the past were just a part of life?

The cabbie pulled over, breaking through her confusion. “Central Park.”

“Keep the change,” she said, handing him the cash.

In the park, Caroline took the path along a little pond, smiling at the ducks as they cruised by.

If that was happiness, then what have the last few weeks with Gabe been? Did all the laughter and feelings of acceptance mean nothing to you?

Sitting down on a bench, she put her head between her legs. Lightheadedness and tears overwhelmed her, and she brushed at her eyes as she choked on the lump in her throat.

“Excuse me, ma’am, I don’t mean to intrude, but you look like you could use this.”

Caroline looked up at a man standing above her, holding out a worn paisley hankie in his hand, just like the kind her grandpa used to have. The man was dirty from head to toe, wearing overalls and a worn ball cap, with a scraggly beard covering his weathered face. His eyes were crinkled but besides that, they were kind.

And then she noticed his other arm was missing.

Pity overwhelmed her as she took the hankie and gave him a watery smile. “Thank you so much.”

He sat down next to her. “So is it your family or your fella?”

The question was so forthright, it caught her off guard. “Both.”

“I’ve been there, darlin’, yes I have. Had me a girl years ago, sweetest blue eyes you’d ever seen. She wanted me to stay in our little town and get married, but I wanted to make something of myself. Prove her daddy wrong about the type of man I was.” His chuckle was raspy, turning into a harsh, wracking cough. Caroline moved to pat his back, but he waved her off, taking in deep, rattled breaths. “I didn’t get to do those things, though. I went into the military and lost my arm. Came home bitter and angry, and when she said it didn’t matter, I spat on her love. My own brother stopped talking to me years ago, and though I get work from time to time, my demons seem to find me, no matter where I end up.”

Caroline smiled sadly. “Mine do the same damn thing.”

“My advice—not that you’re askin’—is to forget what you’ve done, what they’ve done to you, and face down your demons.” He patted her knee kindly. “You don’t want to end up old and alone, believe me.”

Biting her lip, Caroline thought of what her future might look like if she took over Mr. Kline’s bar. She couldn’t picture making a home here or anywhere else. When she thought of home, it was a two-bedroom apartment above a quiet little bookstore. And in that future, when she came home, she pictured a man with deep obsidian eyes and a wicked grin, greeting her with a kiss that would melt her socks off.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“You’re welcome, darlin’ ” the man said, getting up from the bench and moving along down the sidewalk.

Pulling out her phone, she went to dial Mr. Kline to refuse his offer but saw she had a new text message from the strange number that had called before.

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