Hometown Healing. Jennifer Slattery

shield her eyes from the sun.

      “We’re partners now, Grandma and I, and we’d like to hire you on. As a writer. If you’re interested.” He told her about his renovation plans and his difficulties finding a workable script. “Can’t pay you a whole lot, unfortunately...”

      “I appreciate the offer, but...” She lifted her chin. “I’m a journalist. What makes you think I could write a mystery?”

      “You won that short-story contest in junior high.” She’d written a modern-day Peter Pan meets Cinderella love story.

      “That was a long time ago.”

      “Thought maybe you could give it a whirl. If it doesn’t work out, no harm done.” Except then they’d be out of time and without a script.

      “I don’t think—”

      He raised a hand. “You don’t have to answer now. Just chew on it.”

      She gave a slow nod.

      With his hands in his pockets, he watched her a moment longer. Long enough for three cars and a bicyclist to pass through his peripheral vision. He knew, because he counted, while trying to ignore the pull of her vanilla-cinnamon perfume and blue eyes.

      “’Spect I should let you go.” With a tip of his hat, he left, before things became any more awkward. It felt like high school all over again, only harder, because now a canyon of confusion and misunderstanding stretched between them.

      Two hours later, he arrived at the theater a few minutes before rehearsal to go over the night’s menu with the chef. They had two requests for gluten free and one for no dairy. Fresh asparagus lay on the counter, washed and ready to be cooked, and a quick glance into the walk-in verified steaks were marinating.

      “Looking good.” He smiled at his kitchen staff and shot Dillon a thumbs-up. Then he migrated to the dining area to wait on his cast, who should be arriving soon for the preshow rehearsal.

      He made a visual sweep of the theater’s interior, imagining how it would look after the renovations. Wild West Murder Mystery. The notion might seem absurd, but sometimes it took the unexpected to make things work. He smiled at Paige’s old phrase, remembering the fun, giggling girl she used to be. Before life had stolen the joy from those sweet blue eyes. From what he’d heard, that ex-husband had really hurt her something awful. Lying, manipulation... Before abandoning her and her sweet little one.

      What kind of father could just up and walk away from his baby girl?

      Then again, wasn’t that what Paige’s dad had done years ago?

      No wonder she acted so guarded around him.

      What would it take for her to learn to trust again? he wondered.

      Back in high school, when she’d first started pulling away, he’d thought she was done with him. That he’d annoyed her something fierce. He knew now she’d been hurting. And when Paige hurt, she withdrew. Pushed people away.

      Kind of like she was doing now. He didn’t know how to deal with her any more today than he had back then. But he desperately needed her help. So he better start learning. Fast.