I DON’T KNOW why I foolishly thought that Shelby would join me for breakfast, but I woke up an hour early and spent the morning baking cinnamon rolls and a bacon quiche. I was busy pulling the cinnamon rolls from the oven when Miss Porter pulled open the back door and walked in.

“Wow,” she said as she hung her purse on the hook.

She’d once been a kindergarten teacher at Harmony Primary school, but retired a few years ago. When Charlotte passed away, she made sure to let me know that she would be more than happy to watch Belle when I needed it since she lived just down the road and to the left.

With the reading of the will this afternoon, I’d asked her over to help get Belle ready and adjusted so that when I left, Belle wouldn’t be upset.

I nodded in her direction as she wandered over to watch me drizzle icing on top of the rolls.

“Is this how you cook for your guests every morning?” she asked, swiping at a drip on the counter and slipping it into her mouth.

I wanted to say, no, this was a rarity. That I was so anxious to have Shelby sleeping next door that I’d gone and done something as stupid as baking an entire breakfast for a woman who would most likely never step foot in this place.

But I decided that was too much for a Monday morning with one of the town’s well-known gossips. “Yep,” I lied. “Every morning.”

Her eyes widened as she continued to suck at the icing on her finger. Her grey hair was pulled back into a loose bun. Wispy curls framed her tanned, wrinkled face. “I’ll have to tell my daughter she should stay here

when she comes next month.” She waved to the food. “She’s a food blogger and would probably write a good review for you.”

My stomach sank. As much as the inn could use the exposure, I wasn’t sure I was ready to run at full capacity. Plus, I had Belle. I needed my life to remain simple. Even if Shelby’s return threw a wrench in that plan.

I could only focus on so many things, and finding a firm footing was my top priority. Everything else could fall by the wayside. At least, for now.

“Thanks, but I think I’ve got enough guests for now,” I said as I took the mixing bowl and spatula to the sink to rinsed them off.

“You sure?” Miss Porter waved her hand in my direction as if batting away my comment. “I’ll still tell her.” Then her gaze got serious as she studied me. “She’s single and you’re…” Her voice trailed off, and I didn’t have to look at her to know that she had a quizzical expression.

I sighed. Apparently, a single dad trying to run the local inn in a small town was very much in need of a wife.

There was nothing I wanted less than to confuse myself with the female part of the human race. I was struggling with the woman now sleeping in the cottage next door. The last thing I needed was to add another person on top of that.

“I’m good,” I said over my shoulder as I sudsed up the bowl. “The only girl I need in my life right now is two and adorable in pigtails.” I shot Miss Porter a smile.

She clicked her tongue in protest but didn’t push it further. I thought I heard her mumble, “alone forever” and “I’m telling her anyway,” but when I grabbed a nearby dishtowel, I found her moving around the kitchen, looking at pictures.

“It’s truly a shame,” she whispered as she leaned into a photograph of Charlotte standing under the peach trees on the far end of the property. Shelby was standing next to her with peach juice dripping down her chin and a large toothless grin.

I swallowed as I turned back to the sink. That picture was taken a year before my dad married her mom. As kids, things were so much simpler. I would give anything to go back to that time. To see Shelby happy once more.

“What is?” I finally asked.

“She was such a happy woman back then. It’s a shame she was taken from us.” Mrs. Porter let out a sigh. “Or that her daughter was such a

failure.”

Anger rose up in my chest. There was so much to that story that the town didn’t know. Which was surprising. Living in a small town, everyone knew everything. But Charlotte kept things close to her heart. It took a while before she even opened up to me about Emma.

“And that granddaughter.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Miss Porter tap on the glass. “What was her name?”

I narrowed my eyes but forced my body to not turn around. I didn’t want her to talk about Shelby, but I also didn’t want to blow up at the woman either. I’d learned that in this small town it was best to let the busybodies say what they wanted to say and then move on.

But she was skating on very thin ice with steaming hot blades. If she didn’t watch what she said…

I clenched my jaw and tucked the dishrag through the handle of the oven. “I’m going to check on Belle,” I said as I passed by her. Removing myself from the situation seemed the best route.

Miss Porter parted her lips, but I didn’t wait to hear what she had to say. Instead, I just nodded and made my way through the back hallway to Belle’s room.

Thankfully, she was awake, so I turned my attention to her. After getting her a pink dress from her closet—the grandmothers of Harmony were very generous after Tamara dropped Belle off and threw me a baby shower—I walked over to her crib. She was standing along the railing, grinning up at me.

Her hair was matted and stuck up in different directions, but I couldn’t help but smile right back at her.

“Good morning, my princess,” I said as I set her dress on the changing table next to her crib and scooped her up. I helicoptered her a few times before bringing her down and smashing a kiss into her soft cheek. She giggled and pushed against my chest, so she could look me in the eyes.

“Did you have a good night sleep?”

She babbled a few things as I laid her on the changing table and unzipped her pajamas. It didn’t take long for me to change her and get her dressed. After I was done, I set her onto the ground, and she puttered around while I grabbed her brush. She only screamed a few times as I attempted to comb out the tangles and pull it all back into a ponytail.

That was as far as I went with her. It did make me sad that she didn’t have a mother to do fun things with her hair. And even though I’d never admit it to anyone, I’d started watching YouTube videos at night to learn how to braid hair. There was no way I could ask anyone in town to help me.

That was a part of my life that I didn’t want to circle around on the gossip train.

I opened Belle’s door, and she followed me out of her room. I walked into the kitchen, half expecting Miss Porter to still be standing there, muttering under her breath as she looked at the pictures, but what I saw caused me to stop entirely.

Shelby was standing next to the door in pink satin pajamas with her arms wrapped around her chest and her eyes wide. Mrs. Porter was standing a few feet off, talking, but I could tell that Shelby wasn’t listening. It was as if she were frozen to the spot.

I seemed to be the disruption she needed, because as soon as I entered the room, her gaze snapped to me. Her eyes looked desperate.

“We’ve all been wondering where you’ve been. After the funeral, you ducked out of town so fast, I swear I saw smoke coming off your feet,” Miss Porter said, followed by a loud laugh.

I cringed as Shelby seemed to retreat further into herself. Whatever Shelby had been expecting when she walked into the kitchen in her pajamas, I was fairly certain, Miss Porter was not it.

“Hey,” I said, stepping forward. I crossed the room and blocked Shelby from Miss Porter with my body. I wrapped my hands around her shoulders. Then I leaned in and whispered, “Trust me.” It was hard to ignore the way her whole body tightened from my touch, but I understood her reaction, and I was here to help her through it.

“Let me show you something,” I said as I started to guide Shelby toward the hall.

“Show her?” Miss Porter asked from behind me.

I nodded and glanced over my shoulder. “Keep an eye on Belle. I’ll be right back,” I said as I disappeared with Shelby.

She was tight as I led her down the hall and into my room. It felt strange, having her come in here, but I pushed that thought from my mind as I led her over to my bed and pressed gently down on her shoulders.

Thankfully, Shelby didn’t fight me. She dropped her hands to rest on the bed and sat hunched forward.

“I’ll get Miss Porter busy with Belle, serve breakfast, and then come check on you,” I whispered, not wanting my voice to startle her.

Shelby nodded but didn’t look up to meet my gaze.

I looked back only once as I quietly shut the door behind me. Once I was out in the hall, I clapped my hands together. The desire to get everything situated so I could get back to Shelby coursed through me.

I quickly made Belle some breakfast and then gave her a kiss on the cheek as I gathered the cinnamon rolls and pulled the quiche from the oven. I pushed through the swinging door to the dining room where one of the guests was already sitting at the table with a cup of hot coffee in front of him.

I gave him a quick nod as I set the food on the buffet. He grunted and moved over to the food. I offered him a quick, “Enjoy,” before I pushed back into the kitchen. Miss Porter was singing “The Wheels on the Bus” to Belle as she giggled, showing all the eggs she’d stuffed in her mouth.

I told Miss Porter to take Belle out to the small playground area I’d built last year when she was finished. Miss Porter nodded but didn’t stop singing. With everything situated, I stood there, feeling the draw to go back to my room. But I also wanted to make sure Shelby had enough time to calm

down. I didn’t want to push her further than she wanted to go.

I busied myself with pouring a glass of ice water and grabbing a banana. I wasn’t sure if Shelby had eaten anything, and I wanted to give her that option. Plus, it gave me an excuse to go back to my room.

I took a deep breath and headed down the hallway to stand in front of my door. I felt frozen as I stared at the handle. The truth was, I was being ridiculous, but I couldn’t help it. My relationship with Shelby was so complicated, and yet, the last thing I wanted was for her to pack up and leave.

I’d finally got her back home, and I wanted to take this time to explain what had happened so many years ago.

Feeling like an idiot, I realized that it looked very strange for me to be standing out in the hallway, crowding the door. I softly knocked a few times and waited. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do when I didn’t hear anything, so I slowly opened the door.

“Shelby?” I asked as I hovered in the doorway. If she didn’t want me to come in, I wanted to make my retreat less awkward.

“You can come in,” she said softly.

I nodded and pushed the door open all the way. Shelby had moved from my bed and was standing near the window, looking out. Her arms were crossed, and she looked so small. So broken.

I wasn’t sure what to say or where to stand, so I lingered close to the door. “I brought you some water and a banana,” I said wincing at the sound of my own idiotic words.

Shelby turned her head to me slightly and then focused back on the outside world. “Thanks.”

I nodded and then stood there. Did she want me to bring it over to her?

Did she want me to just stand here? What was I supposed to do?

We remained silent for what felt like an eternity before she sighed, turned, and walked over to me. When she was about a foot and a half away, she held out her hands. My heart pounded as she stood there with an expectant look on her face.

I quickly handed the items over, and she took a long sip of the water. Her skin was pale. I could see the soft splash of freckles across her nose that would always darken in the summertime. She was older now but still just as beautiful as she was when we were teens.

When I’d fallen in love with her.

Thankfully, she never knew how I felt—I was pretty certain she thought I hated her. Or at least, that all I wanted to do was torture her. But that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

I was always going to love Shelby, no matter how much she hated me or wanted to push me away.

“Thanks,” she whispered as she pulled the cup from her lips and held the base of the glass in her open palm. She didn’t move to open the banana, and I contemplated asking if she needed help. But then I remembered the night she left. When she was packing her bags, with tears streaming down her face.

I’d wanted to help then, too. But she’d refused to speak to me.

I’d had so many words that I wanted to say to her. Reasons for why things happened the way they did with Clint. But she hadn’t been interested. And I feared that, even after all of these years, she still wasn’t interested.

“I heard scratching at the door.”

Her words caught me off guard. I was pulled from my reverie and glanced down at her. “What?”

She took another drink of water. “At the front door of the cottage. I heard scratching.”

I glanced over my shoulder in the direction of the cottage. “Scratching?”

She nodded, her eyes never leaving my face. “Yes. Do you know what it might be?”

I ran my hand through my hair and shook my head. “No.” “Guests haven’t complained about it before?”

“No.” Charlotte never mentioned it. But I decided to keep that tidbit to myself. I was fairly certain that if I revealed Charlotte used to live there, Shelby would leave.

She furrowed her brow. “Huh.” Silence. Again.

“I can look into it,” I said as I shoved my hands into the front pockets of my jeans and shrugged.

She studied me and then nodded. “Okay.” “Okay.”

She took another drink. “I should go get showered,” she said as she gestured to her pajamas.

I tried not to let my gaze slip down to her legs, but I couldn’t help it. If I’d thought she was beautiful and sexy back when she lived here, things had only changed for the better. She was shapely and smooth. The satin material clung to all the right places.

Heat pricked at my neck, and I cleared my throat, hoping it would clear my mind of these thoughts.

“Okay,” I said as I stepped to the side, so she could walk through the door. She paused before nodding. Just as she passed me, I remembered the breakfast that I’d woken up so early to make.

“I made cinnamon rolls and a bacon quiche.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them.

After a moment, she took in a deep breath and turned to study me. “Listen, Miles. I made a mistake coming into the inn in the first place. Coming to Harmony was already hard enough, and I’m fairly certain I’ll break if I push myself anymore. I’m here for the will reading, and that’s it.” She offered me a weak smile.

I nodded—probably a bit too quick. “I get it. I just thought…” My voice trailed off as sadness peeked through the hard shell she had wrapped herself

in. “I won’t ask again,” I said, my voice dropping an octave as the desire to protect her surged in my chest.

“It was a mistake,” she whispered as she shifted the banana to the hand holding the water and pulled open the door.

I contemplated following her out but decided against it. It seemed like the thing she needed right now was freedom from me. Freedom from her past. Freedom from her memories.

No matter how much I wanted to confront her, to fix the broken things in our past, I wasn’t going to put that pressure on her. I was going to let her heal.

Even if it meant I needed to wait in the shadows.