extra mushroom,” Brendan added.
Aiden’s favorite. “Humoring the patient” it was.
“Sounds great. I’ll meet you in the family room.” At least there wasn’t a wall of glass framing the river, reminding Aiden that he could look but not touch.
Liam shook his head.
“You stay put. We’ll bring it here.”
Aiden kept the smile in place until his brothers left the room, and waited until their voices faded before he took out everything on the coffee table—including the map—with one swipe of his crutch.
Because the reminder that Liam and Anna would be exchanging their vows in a few short months reminded Aiden of a vow he’d made. He’d stood in this very room a few weeks ago and announced to his entire family that he would track down their missing sister before the wedding.
What had he been thinking?
Right now, the task seemed as impossible as sprinting through the ring of fire Aiden had designed for River Quest.
Hiring a private investigator wasn’t in the budget, and the thought of spending hours on the computer made Aiden feel twitchy all over again. He’d never understood why people would rather stare at a screen than the sky, anyway. A person should experience life, not read about it.
Aiden bent down to collect the items on the floor before his brothers returned, and he picked up the book Chloe had been reading during her “entertain Aiden” shift the day before.
A bookmark, stamped with gold and copper leaves, poked out between the pages.
Fall into a Good Book. Visit Your Local Library.
Aiden’s lips twisted in a smile.
Maybe he didn’t know where to start the search for their missing sister...but he knew someone who might.
For over an hour on Friday evening, Maddie had been pounding her head against the proverbial brick wall, trying to coax even a spark of interest from the three high school seniors who’d gathered around the table in the library’s conference room.
A feat Aiden Kane accomplished simply by walking through the door.
Tyler Olsen slipped his cell phone back into the pocket of his hoodie, and Justin Wagner, whose chin had been fused to his chest from the moment he’d sat down, pushed upright in his chair. Skye Robinson, who’d been doodling on the cover of her notebook during Maddie’s opening introduction, took one look at Aiden and her cheeks turned the same shade of bubble-gum pink as her lip gloss.
Not that Maddie could blame her.
The guy took faded denim and flannel to a whole new level.
The patch that had covered Aiden’s eye was gone, and Maddie felt the full impact of his cobalt blue gaze. Her heart began to perform a series of crazy little pirouettes inside her chest that might have, under different circumstances, warranted a call to the heart specialist Maddie saw once a year.
“The sign in the window said Closed, but the door was unlocked...” A casual shrug punctuated the statement, hinting that Aiden was the kind of man who viewed posted hours as a guideline, not a hard-and-fast rule. “Sorry for interrupting.”
Maddie hadn’t bothered to lock the front door because Castle Falls rolled up its streets after six o’clock this time of year. And the only thing Aiden had interrupted was the silence that had been hanging over the room like a blanket of fog since the teenagers had arrived.
It was the second time that week Maddie had met with the three students, but she’d never met a group so resistant to her help. Maddie had a hunch it was because these particular seniors, unlike the others she’d worked with in the past, hadn’t asked for it.
When the principal had called and given her the names of the teenagers she’d be working with, he’d asked Maddie to have them sign an attendance sheet. Maddie naively assumed it was a new policy, until they’d slinked through the door.
One look at the expressions on their faces, and Maddie knew they didn’t see the library as the starting point that would set them on an exciting course to their futures. No, in their minds it equaled two hours of detention, and Maddie was their warden.
The icebreaker she had chosen for the opening session on Monday night had been a complete failure, and they didn’t seem particularly interested in this evening’s presentation about the importance of research, either.
As a matter of fact, the three teenagers didn’t seem to be interested in anything.
Until Aiden crashed the study session.
Maddie had no idea why he was here, but she closed her laptop. “You’re not interrupting. We’re almost finished.”
A collective sigh of relief traveled around the table and Maddie tried not to take it personally.
“Great.” Aiden smiled his quicksilver smile. “Do you mind if I hang around for a few minutes?”
Fortunately, he didn’t wait for her answer.
Because the musky scent of autumn leaves and fresh balsam clinging to Aiden’s jacket as he claimed an empty chair was overriding the “walk in the woods” diffuser on the mantel—and apparently Maddie’s ability to put together a coherent sentence, as well.
Focus on your notes, Maddie.
She put a checkmark next to The Importance of Research. “On Monday, I’d like everyone to bring a list of possible topics, and we’ll try to narrow it down to your top two.”
“Why can’t you just tell us what to do?” Tyler asked.
“The faculty wants your senior presentation to be more personal than a term paper or essay,” Maddie said. “They’re not only interested in what you’ve learned over the past four years, they’re interested in you.”
“Yeah, right,” Skye muttered.
Maddie knew better than to engage in something that could potentially turn into a debate. “If you’re having trouble finding a topic, I’ve encouraged other students to look at the results of their career assessment surveys for ideas.”
Her suggestion was met with blank stares.
“You haven’t taken it yet?” Maddie asked cautiously.
“What’s a career assessment survey?” Skye wanted to know.
Well, that answered her question.
“It’s a series of questions that helps you determine what career might fit you best.”
Skye’s eyes narrowed. “Sounds like a test.”
“Actually, it can be kind of fun,” Maddie said. “The questions are designed to help you pinpoint your interests, discover your gifts and abilities. And the results can help you decide what degree you’ll pursue in college.”
“College?” Tyler scoffed. “I’m not even sure I’m going to graduate from high school.”
Maddie made a mental note to call the guidance office first thing on Monday morning and find out more about the students she’d volunteered to help.
“Okay.” She exhaled a silent prayer for wisdom. “If you can’t find time to take it at school, I’ll see if you can take the test online at the library during our next session. Trust me—it will make choosing a topic for your presentation much easier.”
The word presentation elicited another group sigh.
Maddie stifled one of her own. Unless the principal had made attendance for the study sessions mandatory, there was no guarantee she’d ever see them again.
“I think