Page 29 of Finding Home

“Does it concern you that whoever’s responsible for the fire and vandalism at Finley Point knows your movements? That they might be deliberately timing what they’re doing.”

“I’d be foolish to pretend otherwise,” Cole said. “Noah’s increased the overnight security, and I’ve changed my daily schedule so it’s less predictable.” He glanced across at her. “But I’m not going to let it push me out of this project. If that’s what they’re hoping for, they’ve misjudged me.”

“I just wondered,” she said carefully, “whether you’d noticed anyone paying attention to your comings and goings.”

“No one specific.” He looked at her. “Have you seen anyone watching you?”

Julie shook her head. “No, but you should be careful.”

He didn’t respond immediately. They’d reached his truck, and he unlocked the passenger door and held it open for her. “If it makes you less worried, I’m being more careful than I was.”

Cole drove the short distance to her cottage without needing directions. When he pulled up at the gate, he left the engine running and stepped out of the cab. She smiled as he opened the door for her.

“Thank you for tonight. I enjoyed myself.”

“So did I.”

Cole was close enough that Julie could see the fine lines at the corners of his eyes, and the way the lamplight caught the silver at his temples.

He lifted one hand and lightly touched the side of her face. It was the barest contact, but her breath caught.

Then Cole’s hand dropped back to his side. “Goodnight, Julie.” His voice was steady, but something in it had shifted.

“Goodnight,” she managed.

She went inside and latched the door behind her. Through the narrow window beside the frame, she watched him pull away from the curb.

Julie stood in the hallway for a long moment.

She’d wanted Cole to kiss her. The thought made her frown, even as her fingers pressed against the cheek he’d touched.

The sensible thing was to recognize that some boundaries existed for good reasons. Cole was her friend but also her boss. He was paying her to find who was responsible for sabotaging his resort. That made any romantic thoughts she might have about him irrelevant.

Besides, she’d spent twenty-two years living in a marriage that hadn’t made anyone happy. Knowing that should be enough to make Cole run for the hills.

Julie moved through to the kitchen, filled a glass with water, and stood at the window. The stars twinkled overhead, sending light that was hundreds of years old careening to earth.

The phone number her friend had given her sat on the kitchen table. Her younger self would have called Griffin by now and asked about the job. She might even have kissed Cole on the street and sorted out the consequences in the morning.

But Julie wasn’t that person anymore. And standing alone in her kitchen at ten o’clock at night, she couldn’t decide if that made her wiser or just lonelier.

Chapter 19

The smell of cinnamon and browned butter greeted Julie long before she walked through the doors of the Welcome Center.

She stood just inside the entrance and took it in. Long folding tables ran the length of the main hall in a loose horseshoe, draped in mismatched tablecloths. Some were checked, some plain, and one had a pattern of small cartoon dogs that could only have come from Mabel’s general store. Every table held something different: stacked cakes under glass domes, paper bags twisted at the top, pyramids of cookies dusted in powdered sugar, and loaves of bread arranged across parchment-lined trays.

Across the room, the animal shelter had claimed its table. Three dogs on leads were stationed beside it, doing a great deal of the fundraising work without seeming to know it.

Julie shifted her tray and moved toward the table she was sharing with her friends.

Beth and Laurel were already there, unpacking the food they’d brought with them.

“There you are,” Beth said. She was wearing the apron Susan had ordered for the occasion. “We moved the table to beside the entryway for extra exposure. Rachel thought it might inspire people to join our class.”

The table between them held tiered shortbread, a chocolate layer cake with a paper flag on the top, and a handwritten note on a chalkboard that read: Welcome Center Baking Class: Mix it, Bake it, Love it!

“That was Maria’s idea,” Laurel said, noticing as Julie read the board. “Someone has already suggested we create a website and add our recipes to it.”