By noon, I'd met half the town.
That was the thing about small-town medicine. Patients didn't come in, get treated, and leave. They came in, got treated, and stayed to chat about their grandchildren, their gardens, theiropinions on the new stoplight that had been installed last spring and was "ruining the character of Main Street."
I smiled. Nodded. Asked the right questions. Let them look at me and draw their own conclusions.
I saw the curiosity in their eyes. The unasked questions.
Why are you back? What happened? Are you staying?
I gave them nothing. Polite deflection was a skill I'd perfected over the past year, living with a man who turned every honest answer into ammunition.
After my shift, I walked to the Switchback Café.
The smell hit me before I opened the door. Cinnamon, butter, fresh coffee and something caramelizing in the back. The interior was warm and cluttered, mismatched tables and vintage photographs and a chalkboard menu covered in handwritten specials.
Mae Whitlock was behind the counter, silver-streaked braid over one shoulder, flour dusting her apron. She looked up when I walked in, and her face split into a grin.
"Daisy Taylor. Get over here."
She came around the counter and pulled me into a hug that smelled like vanilla and felt like being wrapped in a warm blanket. Mae had been a fixture of my summers in Hollow Peak, the woman who slipped me extra cookies and pretended not to notice when I snuck out to meet—
I cut that thought off before it could finish.
"Look at you," Mae said, holding me at arm's length. "All grown up and gorgeous. Cal didn't tell me you got even prettier."
"Cal doesn't notice things like that."
"Cal notices everything. He talks about nothing. That’s a cop for you." She steered me toward a stool at the counter. "Sit. Eat. You look like you haven't had a decent meal in weeks."
"I'm fine, Mae."
"You're skinny, is what you are. Skinny and tired. Don't argue with me." She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a plate piled high with a cinnamon roll the size of my head. "On the house. Consider it a welcome-back gift."
I didn't argue. The first bite was heaven. Sweet and warm and exactly what I remembered.
Mae poured herself a coffee and leaned against the counter, watching me eat with the satisfied expression of someone who knew exactly how good her baking was.
"So," she said. "How long are you staying?"
"Few months. Maybe longer. Depends on how the clinic goes."
"Lila's good people. She'll take care of you." Mae took a sip of her coffee. "And how are things at Cal's? I heard Knox has been up there a lot lately. Water heater trouble?"
My fork paused halfway to my mouth.
Mae's expression was innocent. Too innocent. This woman had been running the Hollow Peak gossip network since before I was born. She knew exactly what she was doing.
"Something like that," I said carefully.
"Hmm." Mae set down her mug. "That boy's been different since you left, you know. Quieter. More careful. Like he's waiting for something."
I didn't want to hear this. Didn't want to think about Knox Parker as anything other than the guy who'd broken my heart and never looked back.
"People change," I said.
"Maybe." Mae's eyes were seeing more than I wanted her to. "Or maybe some people were never what they seemed in the first place."
I shoved another bite of cinnamon roll in my mouth so I wouldn't have to respond.