She glanced down at the buzzing Fitbit on her arm, relieved to have the excuse of the message scrawled across it. Time to go. “It's work. Checking in on

me, probably.” She looked up. “I'd better get back to the house and see what my

boss wants. It might be about the meeting tomorrow.”

“Sure.” He looked down at his shoes, then up. “So, will I get a chance to say

goodbye before you leave?”

She smiled weakly. “Sure. I'll be around tomorrow at least. Maybe Tuesday.

Then it's back to Chicago.”

Peter nodded. “Okay, then. So, see you later?”

“See you.” She turned without another word and walked the familiar path across the grass back to her house. Carol's house. She didn't live here anymore.

She took a breath, then scowled. What was she thinking, tooling around the

town with Peter like that? Seeing the plant was one thing, but the park, and the

old school? She should have been back here prepping for her meeting tomorrow.

There were preliminary design ideas and a lot of questions to write out if she was going to make at least a half-decent showing of herself.

She was in Golden Grove on business. Nothing more. She had work to do.

Chapter Seven

Peter lugged the air compressor back into his garage, dropping the coiled hose next to it. Kate's tire only seemed flat. He'd filled it, heard no air, couldn't see any nails. But it was dark, and he couldn't see much, anyway. If it was a slow leak, then she'd find out tomorrow when it went low again. And then maybe she'd need help again…

Okay, enough. You've got work to do at school, remember? Your job?

Grading papers?

He pulled the Mustang's keys from his pocket, zipped his leather coat,

climbed in and started it.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. What had he been thinking, taking Kate to the lake like that? He had seen how she had shivered. He figured it hadn't been a big deal, but he wasn't thinking like her.

The car almost drove itself to the school on the route he'd taken, what?

Thousands of times by now? And how many thousands more would there be?

Out of town, west. His left hand gripped the wheel as he shifted into fourth,

ignoring the speed limit. If Denny was out patrolling tonight, he might get away

with a warning and a raised eyebrow. He hoped.

He gunned the Mustang a little too fast around a curve. Loose gravel from the shoulder scrabbled under the tires as they grabbed at the road. As fun as it was to drive the car, he had forgotten how touchy rear wheel drive was. Stupid.

He slowed down.

What it must be like coming back to a town you thought you'd left behind forever.

And he was at least partly to blame…

* * *

Twelve Years Ago

Golden Grove High

Peter was hugging Katie. It was something he had wanted to do for a long time,

holding her, his hands cradling the small of her back. He'd dreamed about that,

and more, this summer while he'd watched her work on her project for the

Scholarship Fair.

He was so proud of her for winning. She'd worked hard, yes, but she'd also

persevered. He knew how much the scholarship meant to her, not only for college but for herself. For her art.

He stepped back, finally, hands still around her back. “Great job, Katie.”

Her face was shining, a bright light. “Thanks.”

He released her, reluctantly, then gestured with his head towards the gym floor. “Guess we better go start packing up.”

She nodded. “Guess so.” They began walking towards the stage stairs.

“I wouldn't be surprised if Mrs. Wells will want your piece for her personal

art gallery,” Peter said, trying to be encouraging.

Katie's eyebrows raised. “You think so?”

They'd reached their tables. Peter walked over to her mobile, still spinning slowly, delicately. He nodded. “Absolutely. Who knows? Some wealthy

industrialist might see it, offer you a thousand dollars.”

“Only a thousand?” she joked.

“Sorry, one hundred thousand. And a tour of Europe.”