as her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Ryder. I mean—”
“I came to see you, too, Ali.” He leaned across the seat and kissed her cheek gently, repeating Mama Stallings’s wise words. “It’s time.”
Ali gulped and brushed away a tear as it slipped down one cheek. “I know you loved her so.”
“She was good to me when no one else cared to give me the time of day.” He brushed a thumb along her jawline, gathering another stray tear. “No one else except you.”
“Please, Ryder.” She shifted in the seat. “I can’t concentrate on the road.”
He grinned. “I still have that effect on you, don’t I?”
“It’s the glare.” She adjusted her sunglasses. “What happened to your leg?”
Ryder grimaced. She might as well have doused him in ice water. “Slight run-in with artillery.” Stiffness nipped and he massaged the muscle along his thigh, feeling the familiar ridge of scar beneath the fabric of his jeans. “It’s nothing.”
“In my meager experience, no run-in with artillery is ever slight.”
Ryder bit his tongue. No use in inciting a full-blown argument. As they neared the lake, the landscape smoothed and gentled. A hush enveloped them, back-dropped by a piano melody streaming from the radio. The air sweetened with the scent of hyacinth that bloomed along the water’s edge. Ryder knew how much Ali loved the scent; when they were kids she often cut the flowers and wove them into her hair.
“It’s still beautiful,” Ryder murmured as he lowered the passenger window. A warm spring breeze rushed through the sedan’s cab. “Just as I remember.”
“You expected different?” Ali brushed tears from her cheeks as they turned onto the long, winding drive that led to the inn.
“It’s been a while.” Ryder sucked down a breath. The road was no longer packed gravel, but had been black-topped. Bradford pears that Ali’s dad had planted years before grew tall and rounded, forming a generous canopy of white blooms along the pavement. “I wasn’t sure what to expect.”
“You may be surprised by the things that have changed around here…and those that haven’t.”
Ryder chewed on that a moment, swallowed hard as he wondered just how much she had changed.
“There’s the inn.” As Ali motioned, her lips curved into a smile. Light danced in her almond-shaped eyes. There was no denying—she loved the place.
Willow Inn rose like a sentinel nestled atop a cove along the prettiest inlet of the quiet lake, bordered by woods he and Ali had spent hours exploring as kids. Graceful willows danced along the lakeside, their wispy arms swaying in a breeze that kissed and caressed.
“What happened to all the flowers—the rock gardens and the koi pond?” Though the building itself appeared to be meticulously-maintained, the grounds, once exploding with a plethora of flower beds, were barren and lifeless.
“A vicious storm blew through last summer. It felled several trees and tore up a lot of the grounds. You know I didn’t inherit my dad’s green thumb. Let’s just say it’s been a challenge to restore the gardens. I really need to hire someone, but money’s a bit tight right now.”
“I could help with that.” Already, the cogs were turning. “I know a thing or two about landscaping.”
“There’s no need, Ryder.” Ali shook her head stiffly. “You have your own business to take care of. Mama Stallings—”
Ryder didn’t want to think about that—not yet. He didn’t want to acknowledge that he’d never see Mama again, never share her timely words of wisdom. He didn’t want to remember the way the sweet but opinionated woman had taken him in and cared for him, fed him and comforted him while his dad got lost in an endless string of benders. No, Ryder didn’t want to think about how he’d never hear her gentle, coaxing voice again when he showed up on her doorstep exhausted and scared. He’d never again devour crispy chicken she fried especially for
“I came to see you, too, Ali.” He leaned across the seat and kissed her cheek gently, repeating Mama Stallings’s wise words. “It’s time.”
Ali gulped and brushed away a tear as it slipped down one cheek. “I know you loved her so.”
“She was good to me when no one else cared to give me the time of day.” He brushed a thumb along her jawline, gathering another stray tear. “No one else except you.”
“Please, Ryder.” She shifted in the seat. “I can’t concentrate on the road.”
He grinned. “I still have that effect on you, don’t I?”
“It’s the glare.” She adjusted her sunglasses. “What happened to your leg?”
Ryder grimaced. She might as well have doused him in ice water. “Slight run-in with artillery.” Stiffness nipped and he massaged the muscle along his thigh, feeling the familiar ridge of scar beneath the fabric of his jeans. “It’s nothing.”
“In my meager experience, no run-in with artillery is ever slight.”
Ryder bit his tongue. No use in inciting a full-blown argument. As they neared the lake, the landscape smoothed and gentled. A hush enveloped them, back-dropped by a piano melody streaming from the radio. The air sweetened with the scent of hyacinth that bloomed along the water’s edge. Ryder knew how much Ali loved the scent; when they were kids she often cut the flowers and wove them into her hair.
“It’s still beautiful,” Ryder murmured as he lowered the passenger window. A warm spring breeze rushed through the sedan’s cab. “Just as I remember.”
“You expected different?” Ali brushed tears from her cheeks as they turned onto the long, winding drive that led to the inn.
“It’s been a while.” Ryder sucked down a breath. The road was no longer packed gravel, but had been black-topped. Bradford pears that Ali’s dad had planted years before grew tall and rounded, forming a generous canopy of white blooms along the pavement. “I wasn’t sure what to expect.”
“You may be surprised by the things that have changed around here…and those that haven’t.”
Ryder chewed on that a moment, swallowed hard as he wondered just how much she had changed.
“There’s the inn.” As Ali motioned, her lips curved into a smile. Light danced in her almond-shaped eyes. There was no denying—she loved the place.
Willow Inn rose like a sentinel nestled atop a cove along the prettiest inlet of the quiet lake, bordered by woods he and Ali had spent hours exploring as kids. Graceful willows danced along the lakeside, their wispy arms swaying in a breeze that kissed and caressed.
“What happened to all the flowers—the rock gardens and the koi pond?” Though the building itself appeared to be meticulously-maintained, the grounds, once exploding with a plethora of flower beds, were barren and lifeless.
“A vicious storm blew through last summer. It felled several trees and tore up a lot of the grounds. You know I didn’t inherit my dad’s green thumb. Let’s just say it’s been a challenge to restore the gardens. I really need to hire someone, but money’s a bit tight right now.”
“I could help with that.” Already, the cogs were turning. “I know a thing or two about landscaping.”
“There’s no need, Ryder.” Ali shook her head stiffly. “You have your own business to take care of. Mama Stallings—”
Ryder didn’t want to think about that—not yet. He didn’t want to acknowledge that he’d never see Mama again, never share her timely words of wisdom. He didn’t want to remember the way the sweet but opinionated woman had taken him in and cared for him, fed him and comforted him while his dad got lost in an endless string of benders. No, Ryder didn’t want to think about how he’d never hear her gentle, coaxing voice again when he showed up on her doorstep exhausted and scared. He’d never again devour crispy chicken she fried especially for
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