Page 2

He nodded slowly. “I see that now. But they could have simply said so. There was no need to ask us to leave.”

“You told the manager he was probably wanting all the gold for himself!”

Dad considered this. “Yeah, probably not my finest moment. I’m sorry, Charlie.”

Mom sniffed. “Rupert, this is the second campground we’ve had to leave in three months. You can’t keep getting wild ideas and doing things that, if you stopped to think for a moment, you’d know were harebrained.”

“You’re right. Hanging our laundry under the canopy and then turning on the gas grill under them to help them dry faster was not only stupid but dangerous.”

“Try to remember you retired from work, not your brain from life.”

“I will,” he promised her.

I watched this exchange in disbelief, wondering if maybe Dad actually needed supervisory care.

Mom turned her attention back to me. “Oh, I’m sorry, baby. We shouldn’t have burdened you with our silly disagreement. How are things there?”

“Um, good. I was just starting my latest Willow Moon book, and the festival is due to start in two days. Me and the gang plan to go together and listen to some of the music, go on some rides, and eat ourselves silly.”

Her face softened. “That’s good, honey. Maybe you and Josiah can reconnect and enjoy some of that together too!”

And there it was, her real reason for calling.

“I seriously doubt that’s going to happen,” I replied flatly.

“Ohh, he’s touchy,” Dad whispered to her.

“I am not being touchy!”

Okay, maybe I was being a little touchy, but I had good reason to be. Josiah and I had been a couple in high school, even going to prom together. And afterward, we’d continued to date while he worked at the diner and attended community college nearby. I’d thought we had a future, but then he just up and left without saying a word. I hadn’t been worthy of his consideration at all.

I later found out he’d enlisted in the Air Force and, according to his campaign materials when he decided to run for sheriff here, served as an MP and then a policeman in Baltimore. And now he was here, having won the election. And during all that time, had he contacted me? Had he, heck no.

Not even when he decided to run after hearing somehow that our previous sheriff was retiring early due to ill health, nor during his campaign, nor after. Three days after winning, I was a mere footnote in his personal history, the boyfriend who hadn’t put out. I’d always wondered if that was why he’d left me so easily without a backward glance.

“Shh! Rupert,” Mom said reprovingly. “Baby, just maybe try to hear him out if he does have something to say. You never know.”

Riiiight.

“Sure, Mom,” I said to placate her.

“Okay, well, your dad and I need to find another park and check in before the Arizona heat gets any worse today. We’re parked right now outside of a Walmart. Love you, bye!” She disconnected the call, and I glanced at my screen.

I sighed, seeing the time. It was already nearly eleven o'clock. I realized I probably wasn’t going to get anything else written today, not after that info dump she’d handed me. Panning for gold? Two campgrounds? And she thought I should see if Josiah wanted to date again? Maybe Dad wasn’t the only one with some questionable thought processes right now.

I closed the laptop and went inside. I needed a coffee. I stared at my inherited drip coffee maker. If I was going to spend the rest of the morning and most likely a sizeable chunk of my afternoon thinking about my parents’ campground disasters and my mother’s apparently heartfelt belief that Josiah and I should give our relationship another try, I was going to need something stronger than the cup I could make at home and a friend I could vent to.

Dixie’s, it was.

CHAPTER TWO

DIXIE’S DOCKSIDE DINETTE

MAX

There were certain things people in Hartwell Cove did without really thinking about them.

You went to the Waterman’s Harbor Fest and Fair every September, even if you complained about the crowds. You waved at people you didn’t particularly like because you’d known them since kindergarten. You bought your Christmas tree from the same lot your parents had used, even if the guy running it had once sold you a tree that dropped half its needles before Christmas Eve, or if you wanted a plastic tree, it came from either Roses in Salisbury or the Dollar General here in town.