Just Friends?

Leandra would go to Evan’s later and retrieve the phone.

She pressed her lips together, trying to stop the tingling.

Maybe she’d have developed some self-control over her wayward notions by them.

She turned on her side, propping her head on her hand. “Sounds like we’ll have quite the crew around next month for Squire’s birthday party.” Before the ill-fated pool table episode, the family had gone over the developing plans while crowded around several pushed-together tables in the restaurant portion of Colbys.

“We still don’t know if J.D. and Angeline will make it back from Atlanta. J.D.’s schedule is probably easier than Angel’s, though, given the way she’s on call so much.”

Angel was an emergency medical technician in Atlanta. J.D. lived in that vicinity, too, working at some blue-blooded horse farm. “And nobody’s been able to get hold of Ryan?” Ryan was the oldest of the cousins, serving in the Navy, like his father, Sawyer, had once done.

Sarah continued flipping through a project idea book. “Between you and Ryan, it’s a toss-up who has been home to Weaver less.”

“Well, I’d guess he’d win, since I’m here now.”

“You’re here because of the show. But we’ll take what we can get. And it’s ideal that Squire’s birthday falls during your visit.” Sarah set aside her book and propped her elbows on the coffee table in front of her. “So…you really like working in show business?”

“Documentary filmmaking. And, yes, I do.”

Sarah watched her for a moment, as if she wanted to say something. But she just lowered her arms again and picked up her oversized book once more.

“What?”

Sarah shook her head. “Nothing.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Really. I was just going to say that it is amazing the places that life takes us.”

Leandra really didn’t want to get into that particular discussion. Only pain colored that philosophy.

“Do you think if you hadn’t gone to France you and Jake might have gotten back together?”

It wasn’t quite the comment she was expecting, but it was easier than discussing Emi. “No.”

“You two were crazy about each other.”

“Yeah, but we never really managed to know each other very well before we got married. And when…when…things got bad, instead of helping each other through it, we blamed each other.”

“I’m sure Jake didn’t blame you.”

Arguing the point now served no purpose. “I did.” I still do. Leandra swung her legs down from the couch and pushed to her feet. “So is there anything I can help with around here?” The house was as tidy as a pin. The yard outside was even more so, seeming to lay in wait with its lingering summer colors before autumn truly hit with all of its glory.

“Not unless you want to come up with arts and crafts ideas for two elementary school classes.”

Even that humorously meant offer made her hurt inside. “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.” She brushed her hands down the front of her jeans. “I’m going to head over to Ruby’s Café for something to eat. Do you want to go with me?”

“Not this time. I need to get this done. There’s a meeting with the parent association this afternoon.”

“They meet on Saturdays?”

“They do when half of them have to drive over from Braden.”

Even though Weaver had grown considerably since she was a little girl—mostly because of the computer gaming business her uncle Tristan had started here—it was still at heart a ranching community. “Some things never change.”

“If Justine has any cinnamon rolls, bring a few home, okay?”

“Will do.” Justine Leoni was the granddaughter of Ruby Leoni, the café’s founder. She was also the mother of Tristan’s wife, Hope. And fortunately for the town, Justine had inherited not only the café after Ruby died, but she’d inherited her grandmother’s ability to make the most delicious cinnamon rolls.

Leandra didn’t bother with her purse. She merely tucked some cash into her front pocket—which unfortunately reminded her again of the previous evening—pushed her feet into tennis shoes and headed down the road.

There was no need to drive.

Ruby’s was located barely two miles away and the weather was pleasant. Bright blue skies. Morning briskness giving way to the sun’s warmth, hanging strong despite the steady breeze in the air. Leandra knew it wouldn’t be long before that warmth was only a memory for the residents of Weaver. With the lengthening year would come shorter days, cooling temperatures, and in another month or so, there could easily be snow on the ground.

She looked across at the park as she walked along the street. Homes on one side, green grass on the other. During the wintertime, there would be an ice-skating rink covering part of what was now the baseball diamond, where a handful of kids were even now tossing around a ball.

A young man was mowing the lawn in front of one of the houses she passed. She didn’t recognize him.

Not surprising. There were a lot of people she didn’t recognize anymore in Weaver. That’s what happened when someone moved away and stayed away for years at a time.

The logic was sound. The feeling in the pit of her stomach didn’t seem to care.

Sighing, she quickened her step, rounding the corner onto Main Street. She could see Ruby’s from here. The door stood open to the fresh air, and when she angled across the road, waiting for a slowly passing car first, and walked into the café, she couldn’t help but smile.

Here, everything was familiar. The only missing element was Ruby herself. But she’d died when Leandra was away at college.

The entire town had attended the diminutive woman’s funeral. But Leandra hadn’t returned for it, even though Ruby had been part of her extended family—great-grandmother to Leandra’s aunt, Hope. No, Leandra had been too busy to come home for that event. Too involved in her studies, too involved in her own life.

She stepped through the doorway.

The first thing she smelled were the famous cinnamon rolls.

The first person she noticed was Evan Taggart.

He sat at a booth, facing the doorway, and, as if he’d been waiting for her arrival, he was watching her with not one wisp of surprise in his expression. She gave him a brief nod as she moved through the somewhat-crowded café toward the counter, but the casualness of the motion was belied by the butterflies that were suddenly batting around inside her stomach.

“Hey there, Leandra.” The girl behind the counter smiled widely as she poured coffee for the patrons sitting at the counter in front of her. “You need to tell my brother that I should have some face time on your show.”

“Tabby, if we put your pretty face on WITS, nobody is going to be interested in watching your brother,” Leandra teased as she slipped onto the only vacant red stool at the counter.

Tabby dimpled. She really was as striking as her brother. “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of.” She sighed dramatically, managing to deliver a plate of corned beef hash and eggs without spilling a drop of coffee as she continued topping off coffee cups. “You here for breakfast? Daily specials are up on the board.”

Leandra glanced at the chalkboard that was propped on a shelf. It, too, was a familiar sight. The looping handwriting, though, was undoubtedly Tabby’s. “Just give me the special,” she said. “And a half-dozen cinnamon rolls to go for Sarah, if there are any left.”

Tabby nodded. “I’d already saved in back a dozen for my brother. But you can have half. He won’t mind.”

Leandra wasn’t so sure. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder back at the booth where he’d been sitting.

“You want to join him, I’ll bring your food on out in a sec.”

No, Leandra didn’t want to join Evan. But even as she told herself she wasn’t going to, she was aware of more people entering the café. She was taking up a seat at the counter out of cowardly orneriness.

She took her coffee cup—flipped over and filled up by Tabby without a word—and headed over to Evan’s booth. She was halfway there, and everyone in the café knew it, when Leandra’s feet dragged to an abrupt stop.

The coffee sloshed over the cup’s rim, stinging hot on Leandra’s hand.

Evan wasn’t alone.

A pint-size little girl sat opposite him in the booth.

She had striking blue eyes, creamy white skin and shining black hair that was as dark as midnight.

She looked like a miniature, female version of Evan, and the sight of her was a blow to her midsection.

She’d heard of Evan’s niece, of course, but she hadn’t expected to come face-to-face with her.

And she’d never known that she was so like her uncle she could have been his daughter.

Evan breathed a soft curse as he saw the color drain from Leandra’s face. He was already moving out of the booth and heading for her when she seemed to sway a little, spilling coffee over her hand.

She looked up at him as he took the coffee cup from her. Her eyes seemed to dwarf the rest of her small face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect—”

“I watch Hannah for Katy sometimes.” Katy was his half-sister by blood and his cousin by marriage. Mostly, though, she was Hannah’s mom.

She blinked once. Twice. “Right. Of course.”

He could see the reluctance in Leandra’s expression as it began edging out the shock that had encompassed her. He could also see that she looked decidedly shaky.

Jake had warned him that Leandra still found it difficult being around small children. But seeing it with his own eyes twisted something painful inside him. She looked like a wounded, trapped animal.

He didn’t even think about it. He just slid his arm around her and nudged her down onto the bench, across from where Hannah sat, watching them both with her evasive way of viewing the world around her. “Hannah,” he said calmly as he sat down beside the little girl, “this is my friend, Leandra. Can you say hello?”

She kept her gaze half-averted from them. “Say hello,” she repeated obediently. Her thumb steadily stroked the wheel of the matchbox car she was holding, turning it again and again.

“Tabby.” He caught his little sister’s attention as she was bustling around behind the counter. “Can we have some more coffee over here?”

“Coffee here,” Hannah repeated softly. She shifted, pressing her shoulder against Evan’s side. He smoothed his hand through her shoulder-length hair. Despite the convoluted history entwining their families, she was a light in his life.

“I should be going,” Leandra said.

“Wait until Tabby has a chance to top off your coffee. And when’s the last time you ate? I heard you order the special. So unless you plan on walking out on the order, you might as well relax.”

Her lashes shielded those dark, dark brown eyes. Bambi eyes, he used to think. Round, velvety soft and surrounded by lashes that were long and delicate, all at the same time.

Tabby arrived with the coffee carafe, saving him from his teenage, angst-ridden memories. “Your food will be up next, Leandra. Ev, you or Hannah want anything else?”

Hannah had made a typical mess of her toast and scrambled eggs, eating half of each and decorating the table with the other half. “We’re good, Tabby. Thanks.”

“No prob.” She was moving off in a flash.

“For some reason, I’m always surprised at how good she is at this. Tabby’s worked here for more than a year now, but it is still a surprise.”

“Your thoughts have her perpetually stuck in pigtails, playing with dolls?”

“Playing Little League baseball, more like. But, yeah.”

Leandra’s lips curved ever so faintly. The tiny smile was heartbreakingly sad, though. “I know the feeling.”

He hadn’t gone to California for Emi’s funeral.

He should have.

He was Jake’s best friend, wasn’t he?

Something, though, had kept him away. And he’d never forgiven himself for that particular display of cowardice. But before he could form any words, Leandra was looking—somewhat stalwartly, he thought—at Hannah.

“How old are you, Hannah?”

She didn’t look up from spinning the wheels on her little car. “Leandra is talking to you, Hannah,” he prompted calmly.

“Talking to you,” she repeated.

“It takes her a while to warm up to new people,” he excused.

“I understand.”

Did she? He wasn’t all that certain. Leandra Clay may have grown up in Weaver, but he knew her life had been fairly charmed—at least until the devastating loss of her daughter. And now she worked on a show that followed veterinarians around, for God’s sake. She observed life now, instead of living it.

“Four,” Hannah suddenly said.

If Leandra was surprised by the belated response, she didn’t show it. “Four is a fun age to be. I like your car, there. Is it your favorite one?”

“Yes. It’s red.” Hannah didn’t look up as she replied.

“I like red, too.”

Hannah’s thumb spun the wheels. She didn’t reply.

Tabby delivered Leandra’s meal, as well as two neatly wrapped packages of cinnamon rolls, and disappeared just as quickly. Leandra picked up her fork, but didn’t move it near enough her food to suit him. “How is Katy doing these days? Is she still in the service?”

“She’s in Afghanistan.”

Her eyebrows drew together, and he caught her sliding a glance at Hannah. “Scary,” she murmured.

“Yeah. But she’s supposed to be home soon.”

“You all must be relieved.”

He nodded. “Hannah’s been staying with her grandparents in Braden while Katy’s been serving overseas. She had been living in North Carolina near her base, but when she got sent to Afghanistan about a year ago, she brought Hannah here to Wyoming.”

“What about—” she hesitated for a moment “—Keith?”

He was surprised she remembered the name, since he was pretty sure Leandra had never even met his half-sister’s husband. “Yeah. Keith. He split a few years ago. Permanently.”

“Will Katy stay in Wyoming when she gets back?”

He shook his head. “She plans to go back to North Carolina.”

She slipped a glance at Hannah. “Does she visit you often?”

Not as often as he would like. “She spends a day with me now and then. Gives Sharon a break.”

She was silent for a moment, studying him, as if she were trying to put together a puzzle she’d never before noticed. “You’ll miss Hannah when she goes,” she finally observed.

He didn’t bother denying it. Just nodded and wondered darkly why the hell Leandra would sound so surprised by the realization.

“And your…Katy’s parents. How are they?”

His lips twisted. “You mean Darian, I suppose.”

“I mean both of them,” she said.

Given the way her brown eyes had flickered, he doubted it. “Sharon is fine.” If you didn’t count her increasing propensity for pretending Hannah was just like any other kid around Braden and Weaver.

“And Darian?” Her chin had come up again in that way he remembered from days of old.

“My old man is the same as ever,” he drawled.

Her lips tightened. “Drew is your dad.”

Thank the good Lord. And he felt his usual tangle of guilt for feeling the way he did when Drew was his dad in every way that ought to matter. “Yeah, and we all know why that came about.” Drew had married his mom after his half brother Darian had gotten her pregnant and left her flat.

Her eyebrows pulled together, making a crease in her pretty face. “Nobody in this town has ever thought that way.”

He let that slide, since she was probably right.

His feelings about Darian were his own.

Didn’t make it any easier to get rid of them, though.

“Is your grandmother well?”

“Other than that she still hates my mom, dotes on Darian, pretty much ignores Hannah and sort of tolerates the rest of us, she’s fine.”

“She never was the brightest of women,” Leandra muttered. Her cheeks turned pink. “Sorry.”

He shrugged. “Not everyone has grandparents like yours.”

“Well, Squire is a one-of-a-kind man.” Her lips curved faintly. “And Gloria’s pretty much a saint.”

“How’re the plans for the party shaping up?”

“Good.” She seemed almost as relieved as him at the change of subject. “The trick of course, is to keep Squire from finding out. Not an easy task when practically the entire town will be turning out for the fete.”

“He and Gloria are still out of town?”

She nodded. “I can’t believe he’s turning eighty-five.” She didn’t seem to realize that she’d forked up some scrambled eggs, and looked at the results with some surprise.

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