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Chapter 3

Hayden

My stomach sinks as I watch the taillights from his Jeep disappear into the darkness down the hill.

"Why'd you have to tell him who your dad is?" I berate myself. "You know he's got all his men scared to talk to you, much less let you take them to lunch."

Sighing, I walk around to the driver's side of my Toyota. This Camry has taken me a lot of places. From this little Tennessee town, all the way across the country to the University of Wisconsin, and now back again. She and I, we've been through a lot, and she's seen more than her fair share of my anger and tears.

The chill in the air makes my body shiver. Burrowing down, I realize I still have his jacket. The one he's not supposed to lose since it's a part of his uniform. Ramirez is embroidered into the left side as well as the back.

Racking my brain, I try to think of who this could be when it hits me. Dad's been talking about a rookie. One who has a good work ethic, but feels as if he's looked down upon because of who his family is.

This has got to be him.

My phone vibrates in my back pocket. Fishing it out, I roll my eyes when I see a text from my dad.

D: You've been gone a while, is everything okay?

H: Yeah, just lost track of time. Be home ASAP.

D: You know I worry about you.

H: I'm good. Heading out now.

Sliding into the seat, I buckle myself in before pressing the start button. Keyless start and entry are my favorite inventions ever.

Truth be told, I wanted to drive around a little longer, but dad worries more than he should. Three years ago, he and mom got divorced. Something I blame myself for. They couldn't seem to overcome what happened to me.

She started a new life, out in California, and he stayed here where everyone and everything he knew was. Which, I guess, is why I'm back. Regardless of what's happened in the past, this is home.

Turning around at the pull off, I head back the way I came, sad that I won't be able to do more exploring before I start my job tomorrow morning.

Driving back down into Bradford, I breathe a sigh of relief. Being up there by myself and not being able to change the tire was stressful. Helpless is a feeling I don't give into very often and, as I realize how close I came to not being able to change my tire, the shakes go through me.

Turning on my blinker, I hit the gas station right at the edge of town. The one I worked at as a teenager. Getting out of my car and heading inside, I'm hit with nostalgia. It still smells the same as it did when I turned in my notice.

"Hayden Hudson? Is that you?"

"In the flesh," I answer, a grin on my face. Nancy has worked here for as long as I can remember. She was the manager even before I started. Judging by the name tag, she still is. "How are you?"

"Living," she smiles back, coming around the counter, her arms open wide.

I fall into them, holding on tightly when she wraps me up in a hug. "You sure are; you look good."

"Trying." She pulls back. Without turning around she keeps talking. "Donavan, put that candy bar back."

"Damn, how did you see me?"

"Because you're messing with my profits. Put it back."

Tilting my head to the side, I purse my lips. "Your profits?"

Strong and proud, she nods. "I bought the place last year. So now I'm working for myself. It's not been easy, but at least I'm doing it for me, and not someone else."

"That's amazing! I'm so happy for you. If the job I got doesn't work out, maybe I can get this one back?"

"You don't even have to ask. You were one of the best cashiers I had. You were always on time and would stay until your stuff was done, and all the customers loved you. I heard you were coming home."

"Yeah." Blindly, my hand goes into the cold case beside the register, grabbing a water before putting it on the counter. Some things are just ingrained into your psyche. "Finished school a few months ago. Stuck around Wisconsin to see if I could find a job, but nothing ended up working out the way I wanted it to. Missed the mountains." I shrug. "Once they get in your system, it's hard to let Ôem go."

"Ain't that the truth? Where you working at? Don't think I heard." She rings up my water.

Sliding my card into the reader, I glance up, locking eyes with her. "The bank."

She laughs, as I shudder. "Remember you saying something one time that you'd never be one of those people who had a stuffy nine to five. Or maybe that was someone else."

Ruefully shaking my head, I make a noise in the back of my throat. "No, that was me. Said it so many times, I'd damn-near convinced myself. But here we are."

"Settled isn't bad girly." Her wrinkled skin deepens as she smiles sadly at me. "Just because your mama didn't love it, doesn't mean it's not a good way to live your life."

Leave it to her to get to the heart of the matter. "I know, Nancy. It's just hard to come back here and see him so lonely."

"Your daddy isn't as lonely as you think he is," she winks.

"Oh, I have no doubt he's got plenty of company, but I don't think he'll ever get married again."

"No," she shakes her head. "I don't guess he will, Ôspecially since he's not divorced from the first one yet."

Those words surprise me. My parents divorced when I was in third grade. She must be mistaken. Not wanting to argue, I smile politely. "Well, I better be getting home so I can prepare for my first day tomorrow. It was good to see you, Nancy."

"Come see me anytime; I'm almost always here." Just as I'm about to leave, she ambles around the counter with arms wide open. "Missed you girly; this place hasn't been the same since you left."

Tears sting the back of my eyes. "I don't think I've been the same since I left either."

We hug tightly before I head out, getting back into the Camry.

Glancing down at the clock, I'm surprised at how early it is. It gets darker here because of the mountains, something I'll have to get used to again the longer I stay. Seven and I'm heading home. In Wisconsin, I'd just be heading out for the night. The group of girls I lived with and I loved to shut the bars down.

There's a definite change in my life from there to here. Almost as if I knew as soon as I got into my car to travel back that I would be coming back as an adult. No longer the rebellious teenager who liked to try my dad at every turn. The young girl who felt like her older sister was everything she wasn't. Who felt like she constantly had to live up to the make up for her mom leaving because they looked so much alike and she chose to cut and run after I was born.

As I'd turned my car east and traveled back to the little town I'd left in a huff on the eve of my eighteenth birthday, it had dawned on me how much I looked forward to seeing places I'd known since childhood. How I'd see Nancy at the gas station. I'd know the people who come into the bank and they'd know me. The girl who couldn't seem to get out of her own way is returning as the woman who's looking to make decisions for her future.

Pulling into my dad's house, the fact he's left a light on for me warms a spot in my chest. Where once I'd seen this as suffocating to the girl I wanted to be, I can appreciate the anchor it's become to the woman I am now.

My brakes squeak slightly as I come to a stop right behind his truck, tucking in as close as I dare. Turning the ignition off, I allow myself to take a moment and admire how good the house looks. How much work dad's put into it, and the pride he's taken in the place we live. Cognizant of the fact I still have the jacket, I take it off, putting it on my passenger seat before I get out.

When I look up, he's on the porch, waving.

"Hey," I wave back at him. "What're you doing?"

"Making some burgers. Came out to see if you want one."

My stomach growls and I realize I haven't eaten since lunch. "I'd love one."

"Plan on eating in the next twenty," he nods before going back into the house.

Harlen Hudson is a man of few words, but when he speaks, he makes sure they count. Laughing to myself, I climb the steps and head in. I quickly stop in my bedroom, changing into a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Since dad's grilling out, he probably expects to eat on the back porch. There's still a chill in the air at night and I wanna be comfortable.

Throwing my hair up in a ponytail, I slip on a pair of house shoes and head downstairs. Peeking my head out the backdoor, I ask, "Anything I can do to help?"

"Get the fixings for the burgers? There's fries in the oven that should be done in the next," he stops to look at his watch, "two minutes or so."

"Got it."

On a tray, I assemble the things I know we both like on our burgers before taking it out. When I come through the back door, he's grinning at me. "It's good to have you home, Hayden."

I smile back at him. "It's really good to be here."

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