Page 15

“Well, sit and get busy eating this muffin. Still warm.” She tempted me, placing the basket on the table. As I sat, she shoved a napkin before me and produced the most plump blueberry muffin I ever saw. My mouth salivated. Never in my years of New York had anyplace produced a muffin of this monumental size, or as tasty.

I swallowed the first bite along with a lump in my throat. “Thank you. Really.”

She settled into one of the kitchen chairs like she’d always do when visiting Mom. She looked around the place, and poked a finger at the suitcases nearby.

“You still haven’t unpacked yet? My word, your clothes will be all wrinkled. Need my help? I think I recall where your mama kept the iron?—”

I caught her hand with mine. “No, please. I was just about to do that when you knocked. Just sit and visit. It’s so good to see you.” Giving her plump hand one more pat I let it go.

“You holding up okay?” She asked, paired with bright blue eyes that could probably see right through me.

“I’m trying.” I sank more into the seat. “It’s been a lot.”

She nodded knowingly. “Coming home often is. Especially when folks are too small-minded to welcome someone back with grace.”

I froze. “So you’ve heard all the rumors,” I whispered, keeping an eye on the muffin as I picked at the edges with my nails.

“Honey, this town’s had a gossip problem since before I was born. It’s not you—it’s them. Always something. Last month, they were busy ripping up poor Jasmine over her salacious divorce from the mayor. Now they’ve moved on to you. Next week will be somebody new.”

My chest clenched. “Please believe me. I didn’t come here to mess with Carson or Emme. I would never do that.”

She waved it away. “I know that. So does Carson, I’m sure. That boy has a good head on his shoulders, and Emme’s there for him. Even if right now she’s a little high-strung, bless her heart. It’s her wedding nerves talkin’, and helping Carson keep that business running ain’t no easy task.”

“I just hate feeling like I’m the town villain.”

“You’re not. Far from it. People just love to chit chat over drama, blowing things way outta proportion.” She pushed the muffin on the napkin closer to me. “You’re just a girl who lost her mama. You came home to figure some things out, which was a good idea, by the way. Let me get some butter for that muffin.”

She rose and didn’t let the suitcases stand in her path. With her strong arms she plucked them up and carried them to my room.

“Guess I’m staying,” I muttered under my breath, with a twitch of my lips. Mama knew exactly what she was doing. A few minutes later, after rifling through my grocery bags and putting most of the items away, she returned with fresh butter and a knife. She proceeded to cut the muffin into four bits and slathered them.

“Mom always said everything was better with butter.”

“And she was right.

My eyes stung again, but I managed not to cry.

“Now. Hudson tells me he’s coming by in the morning to help you fix the place up?” Again, she pushed the napkin closer to me. For her sake, I took a big bite, and offered a well-deserved moan at the goodness of it.

When I could speak again, my brows lifted. “He told you that?”

“He tells me plenty,” she said, with a knowing twinkle in her eye. I literally just left him a couple of hours ago, and he already told his mother? “That boy’s been carrying this family on his back since his daddy died. Hudson took over as the head of our house. Don’t know what I would have done without him.”

Her smile turned misty. “You know he worked a second job just to send Anderson money when he was struggling through med school? Paid Branson’s Police Academy application fee without ever saying a word. Fixed up every one of their old beat-up trucks, even taught Dawson and Lawson how to weld.”

I blinked. “I had no idea.” I never thought about everything he must have been going through after his dad died when we were younger, considering anytime he was stuck having to watch Carson and I he did it with a scowling face.

“Hudson never wants credit. Refuses the spotlight. You’ll never know a more steady man. The kind who puts family first. He’d make someone a damn fine husband and father someday. But he’s not getting any younger.”

Suddenly, my stomach twisted. I knew her game. I couldn’t have Carson, so she was throwing me the next best thing.

She reached across the table and patted my hand. “You’ve been through a lot, Lacey. And I don’t pretend to know what your future looks like. But keep your eyes open, sweetheart. The right man might not be the one you thought you’d end up with.”

I got up from the table, holding my sides. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at this point. I stopped at the first photo in the hallway.

“The last few months of her life, your mama insisted on changing out those photographs. Poured through her albums, searching for the right ones.”

“Hm. Yes, so many of Carson and I through the years.”