This Time For Keeps. Jenna Mills

Outside. Throwing open the back door, he squinted against the sun—and saw her.

      And then everything stopped.

      She was just sitting there. Down by the creek, with her back against one of the old weeping willows. Her knees were drawn to her chest. Her arms were wrapped around them. Her gaze was trained forward, toward the slow trickle of water in the creek.

      On the breeze, he heard the choked sound of crying.

      He staggered, started to run again. He thought he called out to her, but his throat was raw and she didn’t turn. She sat there, frozen.

      And God help him, he knew.

      His steps slowed as the sprawl of green grass down to the creek stretched. Numbly, his hand, clenching the tangle of pink ribbons, went slack, and the bobbing mass of balloons lifted toward the blue of the sky.

      And floated away.

      Present Day

      THE RAW, NAKED EMOTION on Russell’s face congealed into something unreadable. “No. I—I can’t hold her…right now.” He ripped his gaze from the baby, backed away.

      From his own niece.

      “Ray’s waiting,” he said. “I—I’ll be by in the morning.”

      And with that he turned and headed back to the sporty blue rental waiting in the gravel parking lot.

      Meg wanted to be surprised. Angry. She was neither. Backing away, walking away, that’s what Russell Montgomery did.

      The hurt and disappointment were for Charlotte. She was just a baby, an innocent in all this. She deserved better. But as Meg carried her niece through a patch of poppies, toward Ray, the pressure in her chest released, and once again, she could breathe.

      Russell had talked of Ainsley’s affairs, of her house and her belongings…but not of her baby. He didn’t even want to hold her.

      And if he didn’t hold her, he couldn’t take her.

      TIME DIDN’T STAND STILL. Russell knew that. It’s just the way it was, a simple fact he’d always appreciated. In the two years since he’d last driven the shady streets of Pecan Creek, a child had been born, a bright light extinguished, a marriage ended.

      But as he steered his rental car beneath a banner advertising the annual Wildflower Festival, it was like driving straight back into a past he knew no longer existed.

      The cobblestone streets and old-time storefronts of the historic district welcomed him, just as they welcomed everybody. Park benches sat beneath awnings. Nostalgic statues stood by the street corners. Even the old gazebo still waited there in the Side Street Park, if possible a brighter white than the last time he’d seen it.

      The storefronts were the same, even if some of the names had changed. The old antiques shop was now a tearoom. The independent bookseller now boasted CDs and DVDs, as well. On the outskirts of town he’d noticed the big antebellum house turned bed-and-breakfast had a grand-reopening sign hung out front. Once, the renowned Magnolia Manor had attracted visitors from all across the country.

      Russell wondered how long it had been closed.

      Easing along the busy street that cut the town in half, he strained against the shadows of late afternoon for the familiar green awning across from the Gazette. He’d eaten at five-star restaurants in more major cities than he could count, but all it took was the thought of Uncle Ralph’s, and his mouth started to water. If the local favorite was gone—

      It wasn’t. The hole-in-the-wall sat where it always had, tucked between Ed’s Barber Shop and Dr. Harrison’s office. There was almost always a crowd milling around out front, waiting for one of the ten tables inside.

      At least, that’s how many tables had been there before.

      Russell had talked to Uncle Ralph about expanding or relocating, but the sole proprietor had always resisted, saying he couldn’t cook for more than ten tables at a time, so why seat more than ten at a time?

      Easing into a parallel spot across the street, Russell couldn’t help but smile at the memory. Once and only once, he’d suggested that Uncle Ralph hire someone to help…

      Once. Only once.

      Now he made his way across the street, glancing at his phone to check the time, when he noticed no one lingering out front. A few minutes past seven. He would have expected a crowd.

      At the door, he wasn’t sure why he hesitated. He’d eaten at the restaurant more times than he could count. He and Meg had come here frequently, sometimes several times per week. After work they’d walk over, sometimes just the two of them, often with Lori and Julia. The guys would arrive shortly thereafter. It had been their ritual.

      Stepping back inside…

      He almost turned and walked away, toward the new place down the street, Mamacitas. Instead he yanked open the door and strode into the restaurant lit by dozens of strings of festive chili pepper yard lights.

      He saw them immediately, all of them, Julia and Lance and Lori and Trey. It was hard not to. His gaze went straight to their booth, the big curved one in the back right corner where they all used to sit and see who could throw back the most tequila shots. Once Meg had—

      He turned to leave.

      The sharp intake of breath was the only warning he got. “Rusty Montgomery!” Before he could turn—or run for the door—Ralph’s wife was across the room. “As I live and breathe,” she cried as she took him by the arm and beamed up at him. “Lord o’mercy it is you!”

      And then it was all he could do not to choke on the heavy scent of gardenia—and grease. Ruby wrapped him up tight in her beefy arms, hugging him as if she’d never thought to see him again.

      “I never thought this day would come,” she said when she finally released him. “You done broke my heart when you left like that, without even coming to tell me bye.”

      By now everyone in the whole restaurant was watching—including the foursome at the back booth. Russell wanted the floor to just open up and swallow him, but since that wasn’t going to happen, he opted for Plan B.

      “Ruby Rodriguez,” he said, rolling his Rs. “Still as pretty as the day is long.”

      Her smile widened, but the glint in her eyes told him she knew what he was trying to do. “Go on with you now,” she said, gesturing toward the familiar booth. “Your friends are waiting.”

      The words were casual enough, but they hit him like a rock to the gut. A big one. The foursome didn’t move, just watched, leaving the ball square in Russell’s court.

      Until Lance stood. “Rusty,” his former poker buddy said, crossing to him with a hand outstretched. There was a quiet understanding in his voice—and a steely warning in his eyes. “Didn’t know you were back in town, man.”

      Trey was there a step later, and as Russell extended his hand, the man he’d once run with almost every morning before the sun rose wrapped him in a quick hug. The gesture caught him by surprise…but nowhere near as much as the realization that his friend had lost a lot of weight.

      Trey released him abruptly, as if just realizing what he’d done. “When did you get back?”

      “This morning,” Russell said. “Need to clean out—”

      “No, you don’t.” That was Julia. He’d wondered how long it would take the barracuda to march over. “There’s nothing you need to do here,” she said, angling her chin in that fierce way of hers.

      Her husband looked as if he, too, wanted the floor to swallow him. “Julia—”

      “No,” Meg’s cousin said before Lance could get out another word. She lifted her hand in a sharp gesture. “He doesn’t get to do this.” She kept her eyes trained on her prey, namely Russell. “You can’t just show up here like…you