Rumour Has It. Maureen Child

to put on a show for the folks in Royal.

      “No thanks,” he said, pushing up from the table. He didn’t even look at the other members in the room. “I’m headed back to the office to finish up some paperwork, then I’m going home.”

      “Still in hiding?” Alex murmured.

      Nathan bristled. “Pretty hard to hide in a town the size of Royal.”

      “You should keep that in mind,” Chance told him.

      Irritated, Nathan just gritted his teeth and left. No point in arguing with a jackass, he thought.

      Amanda was so busy she almost didn’t have time to worry about Nathan.

      Almost.

      Turns out, even running the family diner, looking for a new house and arranging to have the transmission in her car replaced still left her brain enough room to plague her with thoughts of Nathan Battle.

      “Bound to happen,” she reassured herself for the fortieth time that morning. Just being in Royal had brought the memories rushing back and, there were a lot of memories.

      She’d known Nathan most of her life and had been nuts about him since she was thirteen. She could still remember the sharp, bright thrill of having Nathan, then an all-powerful senior, taking a lowly freshman to the senior prom.

      “And, if we’d just stopped it right there, it would be all sunshine and roses,” she murmured as she refilled the coffee urn with water, then measured in fresh coffee grounds.

      She pushed the button to start the brewing process, then turned to look out at the diner. Even with the changes she’d made in the last couple of weeks, being in this place was as good as being home.

      She’d grown up in her parents’ diner, working as a busgirl, and then a waitress when she was old enough. The Royal Diner was an institution in town and she was determined that it stay that way. Which was why she’d come home after her father’s death to help her older sister, Pam, run the place.

      As that reminder rolled through her mind, Amanda squared her shoulders and nodded briefly to herself. She hadn’t come home because of Nathan Battle. Even though a shiver swept through her at just the thought of his name, she discounted it as sense memory. Didn’t mean a thing. Her life was different now.

      She was different now.

      “Amanda, my love, when’re you going to marry me and run off to Jamaica?”

      Startled out of her thoughts, Amanda smiled at the familiar voice and turned to look at Hank Bristow. At eighty, Hank was tall and thin and his skin was craggy from a lifetime spent in the sun. Now that his sons ran the family ranch, Hank spent most of his time in the diner, talking with his friends. His blue eyes twinkled as he held out his cup for a refill.

      “Hank, you just love me for my coffee,” she told him, pouring a stream of the hot, fresh brew into his cup.

      “A woman who can make good coffee?” Hank shook his head and said solemnly, “Worth her weight in gold.”

      She smiled, patted his hand, then carried the carafe along the length of the counter, chatting with her customers, freshening coffee as she went. It was all so familiar. So…easy. She’d slid into life in Royal as smoothly as if she’d never left.

      “Why did you order new menus?”

      Okay, not completely smoothly. Amanda turned to face Pam. As usual, the shorter woman didn’t look happy with her. But then, the two of them had never been close. Not growing up. Not now. Even though Amanda had primarily come back to Royal because Pam had needed help running the diner. But, she supposed, needing help and wanting it were two different things.

      Amanda walked the length of the counter again, and set the coffeepot down on the warmer before she answered.

      “Because the old ones needed to be replaced,” she said. “The laminate was cracked and old and the menus themselves were outdated.” Catching the look of interest on Hank’s face, Amanda lowered her voice. “We don’t even serve half the things listed anymore, Pam.”

      Her sister’s chin-length brown hair was tucked behind her ears. She wore a red T-shirt and jeans and a pair of scarlet sandals wrapped around her feet. She was tapping the toe of one sandal against the shining linoleum floor. “But our regular customers know that. They don’t need fancy new menus, Amanda.”

      She sighed, but stood her ground. “They’re not fancy, Pam. They’re just not ratty.”

      Pam hissed in a breath.

      “Okay, sorry.” Amanda dug deep for patience and said, “We’re in this together, right? You said you needed help and I came home. The Altman sisters running the diner. Together.”

      Pam thought about that for a long second before finally shrugging. “As long as you remember I didn’t ask you to come in and take over.”

      “I’m not taking over, Pam. I’m trying to help.”

      “By changing everything?” Pam’s voice spiked, then she seemed to realize that everyone in the place was no doubt listening because she spoke more softly when she continued. “There’s such a thing as tradition around here, you know. Or did you forget, living off in Dallas for so long?”

      A small twinge of guilt nibbled at her insides. Amanda hadn’t been around much the last few years, it was true. And she should have been. She knew that, too. It had been just Amanda, Pam and their father, since her mother had died years before and the three of them had sort of drifted apart. For the rest of her life, she knew she’d regret not spending more time with her dad when she had the chance.

      But she had grown up in the diner just as Pam had. Changing things wasn’t easy for her, either. A part of her hated getting rid of things that her father had put in place. But times changed whether you wanted them to or not.

      “Dad told us himself that when he took over the diner from his father, he made lots of changes,” she argued, defending the new, still red—but unscarred red—counter and tables.

      Pam scowled at her. “That’s not the point.”

      Amanda took a deep breath and inhaled the aroma of fresh coffee, eggs and bacon. “Then what is the point, Pam? You asked me to come home and help, remember?”

      “Help, not take over.”

      Okay, maybe she had been a little quick with changes. Maybe she hadn’t taken the time to include her sister in decisions being made. That was her fault and she was willing to take the blame for it. In her defense, Pam had made herself scarce since Amanda got back to town. But, if she mentioned that, it would only start a new argument, so she let it go.

      “You’re right,” Amanda said and watched surprise flicker in her sister’s eyes. “I should have talked to you about the menus. About the countertops and tables and I didn’t. I just …” She paused to look around the diner before adding, “I guess I didn’t realize how much I’d missed this place. And when I got home, I just dove right in.”

      “I can’t believe you missed the diner,” Pam muttered.

      Amanda laughed. “I know. Me, neither. You and I spent so much time working here as kids, who knew that I’d look forward to working here again?”

      Pam sighed and leaned against the counter. She shot a frown at Hank, who was still listening in. The old man rolled his eyes and looked away.

      “It’s good you’re here,” Pam finally said. “And between the two of us, we should be able to both run the diner and have lives.”

      “We will,” Amanda said, smiling a little at the tiny bridge suddenly springing up between the sisters.

      “But it is the two of us, Amanda,” Pam told her firmly. “You don’t get to make all the decisions and then let me find out later when the new menus arrive.”

      “Absolutely,”