push the painful memories aside, because he knew that there was no way to go back in time and do things differently. But sometimes, late at night and deep in dreams, he allowed himself to make a different choice. A smarter choice. And in those dreams, he woke up in the same house he’d lived in for the first twenty-one years of his life, his mother making breakfast in the kitchen while he crawled out of bed, grumbling about the early hour as he dressed in the dark and headed out to the barn to help his father and brothers with the chores.
And every time he dreamed about them, he awakened with such a huge, heavy weight on his chest, he wondered how it was possible that his broken heart was still beating. Then he’d grab a granola bar or pour himself a bowl of cereal and head out to the barn at whatever ranch he was currently working and throw himself into the physical labor, as if successfully wrestling bales of hay would somehow help him overcome the grief and guilt.
His foot eased off the accelerator as he approached the town limits, doubts again battering at him from all directions. Was he really going to do this? Was he, finally, after so many years, going to see his sisters and brothers again?
He’d programmed his GPS to take him to Just Us Kids—the day care facility owned by Hudson Jones’s family and where Bella was employed as a manager. The day care hadn’t existed twelve years ago, which made him wonder how many other businesses had come and gone in that period of time. Was Crawford’s General Store still the only place in town to buy a quart of milk? Did the Ace in the Hole still have the flickering neon sign that beckoned local cowboys with the promise of cold beer and pretty girls? Was the coffee at Daisy’s Donut Shop still always hot and fresh?
He could use some of that coffee now. Especially when he glanced at the display on his GPS and saw that his ETA was less than fifteen minutes.
Less than fifteen minutes after more than twelve years.
His fingers tightened on the steering wheel as he drove down Cedar Street, the winter finery on display reminding him that Christmas was less than three weeks away. Garlands and twinkling lights festooned all the storefronts, and a dusting of fresh snow on the sidewalks added to the holiday atmosphere.
Even in Wyoming, he’d heard about the flood that had devastated Rust Creek Falls a few years back, but the community had obviously come together to rebuild. He’d expected—maybe even hoped—that the town had changed, but everything looked very much the same.
He impulsively turned the corner toward Daisy’s Donut Shop, desperate not just for a quick cup of coffee but also a few extra minutes to regain control of his emotions before facing his sister.
He pushed the door open and joined the line at the counter. An elderly man, headed to a table with a mug of steaming coffee in his hand, nodded in his direction.
Just a friendly resident greeting a stranger in town—or so Luke believed until the man said, “Nice to see you, Luke.”
The gruff voice was as familiar as Old Gene’s face. “Good morning, Mr. Strickland.”
“You home for the holidays?” the old man asked.
Home.
The word tugged at something inside him.
Was this his home? He’d been wandering for so long, never setting down roots in any one place, that the word was almost unfamiliar to him.
Unfamiliar and yet oh-so-inviting.
“Just here to visit my sister,” he said.
Gene nodded. “She’ll be glad to see you.”
Luke hoped he was right.
The old man carried his coffee to a booth, where a group of his contemporaries was already seated and waiting for him.
A middle-aged man with graying hair and a much younger blonde woman stepped up to the counter next to place their order. Luke recognized the man as Ben Dalton—the only attorney in town. Ben spotted Luke when he turned to speak to his companion and his eyes widened in obvious surprise. After shaking Luke’s hand, Ben introduced his female companion.
“This is my law partner, Maggie Crawford.” Ben winked. “I stole her away from a big firm in Los Angeles.”
“Then you’re a long way from home,” Luke said to the woman.
She shook her head. “This is my home now.”
“Maggie’s married to Jesse Crawford,” Ben told him.
“Jesse went to school with my brother Bailey,” Luke explained the connection to Maggie. And he’d gone to school with Ben’s daughter, Paige.
“Small world,” she murmured.
“So it would seem,” Luke agreed. “Although Rust Creek Falls has grown even more than I realized if it’s able to support two lawyers now.”
“Four,” Ben corrected. “My daughter, Lindsay, has been working with us since she passed the bar last year. And Maggie’s brother, Ryan Roarke, hung up a shingle after he married Kristen Dalton.”
“Good to know there are options if I find myself in need of legal services,” Luke said.
“Speaking of legal services,” Maggie said. “We’ve got to get to Kalispell for a settlement conference.”
Ben nodded. “It was good to see you again, Luke.”
“You, too,” Luke said. “And nice to meet you, Maggie.”
As the two attorneys turned and walked away, he stepped up to the counter.
“Can I help you?”
He glanced from the tempting variety of sweets in the glass-fronted display case to the even more tempting woman behind the counter, and awareness hummed in his veins. Or maybe he’d just imagined the sensation. Maybe what he’d felt was simply relief that here, finally, was someone who didn’t know him or his history. Because the gorgeous blonde with wide blue eyes wasn’t anyone from his past. If he’d met her before, he was certain he would have remembered.
She followed up the question with a smile, drawing his gaze to the curve of her glossy pink lips. Yeah, her mouth looked a lot sweeter than the glazed doughnuts for sale, but he’d come back to Rust Creek Falls for one reason and it wasn’t to enjoy the local sights—no matter how pretty they might be.
“Coffee,” he suddenly remembered. “Large. Black.”
Those beautiful blue eyes sparkled with humor. “For here or to go?”
“To go.”
She selected a tall paper cup, filled it from the pot then snapped on a lid.
“Thanks.” He passed her his money in exchange for the beverage.
She smiled at him again. “You’re welcome.”
* * *
“Large café mocha with extra whipped cream.”
Eva Armstrong regretfully shifted her attention from the backside of the handsome cowboy making his way to the door to her next customer. Ellie Traub was a regular who always ordered an old-fashioned glazed along with her large mocha and carried both to a table where she’d sit with Mary and Rita Dalton—sisters-in-law by marriage—and chat about all the comings and goings in town.
“That Luke Stockton sure grew up to be a handsome man,” Ellie commented.
Eva mentally assigned the name to the cowboy, satisfied that it fit—even if it didn’t answer any of the questions racing through her brain.
“Of course, they were all good-looking boys,” Ellie continued.
“Who?” Eva asked.
“Luke, Bailey and Daniel. And Jamie, too, of course.”
She used the tongs to select a doughnut from the case and set it on a plate. “I didn’t remember that Jamie had so many brothers.”
The