Chapter 4

"I DON'T KNOW WHY we're here," Pru said. "We've still got enough casseroles to get us through the end of the month."

Kennedy grabbed a shopping cart and headed toward the produce aisle. "Because woman cannot live on casseroles alone, even in Tennessee. If I don't have some vegetables that aren't globbed in cheese or wrapped in bacon, my arteries are going to clog in a week. Plus, I need to pick up some basic toiletries and stuff since my luggage still hasn't arrived." She'd have to pick up some clothes, too, if it didn't show up soon.

"You realize you've just blasphemed, right? Bacon and cheese are their own food groups here. Or had you forgotten?"

"I hadn't forgotten. But my tolerance is down after all the time away." Plus she'd wanted an excuse to get out of the house and away from the tension.

Maggie had sequestered herself with copies of the financial records Robert sent over the day before. Whatever the news, it wasn't good. Athena was pacing the place like a caged jungle cat, itching to get back to Olympus and knowing she couldn't leave Eden's Ridge yet. And Pru was fretting over Ari, who still wasn't saying or eating much. She'd gone back to school this morning. They were all expecting a call for an early pick up. A grocery run seemed the easiest way to get a brief escape and distract Pru.

"Well, since we're here, I'm gonna go grab some ice cream." Pru made a beeline for the freezer section.

"Far be it for me to deny you the comfort of Ben and Jerry."

As her sister wandered off, Kennedy swept through the personal care aisle, picking up the necessities before heading over to produce. She browsed the fresh veggies, adding potatoes, carrots, and onions to the cart, then grabbing some apples and the fixings for spinach salads. Wondering if there was a chance in hell the butcher had any lamb in the meat department, she circled onto the canned goods aisle.

"I ran into Porter at the funeral. He said progress down in Gatlinburg is going really well, so the resort might reopen this summer."

Kennedy stopped in the middle of the aisle. She knew that voice. A part of her had been waiting to hear it from the moment she'd set foot back in the Ridge. He'd been at the funeral? She'd wondered why she hadn't seen him. Wondered if he'd made himself scarce to avoid her.

Hands gripping the cart like a lifeline, she slowly made her way down the aisle and eased around the end to peer down the next row. And there he was, big as life. She couldn't see his face, but she'd know him anywhere. Xander Kincaid. The reason she'd stayed away all these years. And why she'd always wanted to come back.

Feigning nonchalance, she reached for whatever was on the display at the end of the aisle, taking the chance to study him. His brown hair was considerably shorter now, no longer curling over his collar. His khaki shirt stretched across shoulders that were broader than they'd been at eighteen, and he still had the best backside in Stone County. A duty belt hung around his hips. So her former bad boy had become a lawman exactly like his father always wanted. Looked like Buck had been right after all. She'd been a bad influence.

How long had it taken him to fall in line after she'd left? A week? A month? Or had he made it the whole summer? Had he ever really loved her at all? Maybe she'd just been a diversion for the hometown boy who'd never really had any intention of leaving.

Feeling foolish, Kennedy tried to shrug off the disappointment. It was ancient history. She should finish grabbing supplies, round up Pru, and get out of here before he saw her. Realizing it was a box of stuffing mix she'd picked up, she reached to put it back. The zipper of her hoodie caught on the buggy, yanking it into the endcap display with a crash that echoed through the store and sent several boxes of stuffing tumbling to the floor.

Of course Xander turned around and looked right at her.

Crap.

Heart pounding, Kennedy immediately unsnagged her hoodie and crouched down to pick up the boxes. She had three in her hands when a pair of black, lace-up boots stepped into her field of view. Their owner squatted down and reached for some of the boxes.

"Why are you even looking at this stuff? You hate stuffing."

"Perhaps a better question is why they're highlighting it in March. Hello, Xander." She made herself look at him. None of the softness of youth lingered around that chiseled jaw. The rest of him had clearly transitioned from the last traces of boy into man. But his mouth. His mouth was as she'd remembered, those sculpted lips just barely curved at the edge of a ready smile.

She hadn't expected the possibility of a smile from him. Her breath quickened at his nearness and her fingers itched to trace those lips. Would he taste the same? Needing a moment to get her own reaction under control, Kennedy turned to put the boxes back on the display.

Xander did the same before rocking back on his heels, all traces of the smile gone. "I'm sorry about your mama."

"Thank you."

Cue awkward silence. What was she supposed to say to this man she'd once planned a life with?

"How's everybody holding up?" Xander asked.

"As well as can be expected, I guess. I keep walking into rooms thinking she'll be there. The house just feels wrong without her in it."

"I bet. We all felt like that when you left."

The barb struck true. Kennedy opened her mouth. Closed it again. What could she say to that?

I didn't want to leave you!

Even if she were free to admit the truth, it was too little, too late for that. She'd chosen to protect him, and that was a choice she'd have to continue to live with.

"Xander!" Pru hurried down the aisle and right on into the middle of the awkward. "I wanted to thank you again for all your help last week." She moved into him and his arms went around her in an easy, affectionate hug.

"Of course. You know I'd do anything for you."

The nip of jealousy was quick as a mosquito. Kennedy slapped it down, feeling stupid. Xander and Pru were friends. They'd been friends since they were children. And if they were more now, they had every right to be. Especially since apparently none of them thought she'd ever come back.

And you haven't until now, so they weren't wrong.

"You may regret that offer," Pru warned, stepping back. "Depending on what happens with the house."

His brows drew together in concern. "What's going on with the house?"

"Mom took out a big loan to make some major repairs."

"Yeah, about three years ago. I remember when Delbert Monroe put on that new roof. Is there a problem with it?"

"Maggie's sorting through the details, but the bottom line is we have to figure out how to pay off the loan in order to keep the property. It's the only stable home Ari's ever had other than that stint with her grandmother."

Given her background, stability was paramount to Pru. And maybe that was why, of all of them, she'd never left once she settled in Eden's Ridge. Which made her absolutely the best one of them to be in charge of Ari right now.

Kennedy wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We're going to come up with something. We all know Maggie's a genius. It will be all right."

Pru just grimaced. "That's easy for you to say. You won't have to deal with whatever it is when you go back to Ireland or wherever."

She absorbed the slap of that. This was Pru's automatic thought? And not just hers. Awareness of Xander's censorious look scraped along Kennedy's skin. He totally believed she'd bail on her family in the middle of this crapstorm. And why wouldn't he think that after what she'd done to him? Why wouldn't any of them think that?

A bitter, helpless rage rose up inside her, almost choking her in its potency. She'd forever be judged because of a mistake they didn't even know she'd made. This was the purgatory she'd been sentenced to a decade ago. She was so damned tired of having everything ruined because of that one night. She'd lost Xander, lost her family in all but the most peripheral sense. She'd thought she'd made her peace with that. But being back here, seeing exactly how bad the rift was between her and her sisters, made her want to fight as she hadn't been brave enough to do at eighteen. Maybe Flynn was right and it was time to stop running.

Taking a firm grip on her temper and ignoring the judgment coming off Xander in waves, Kennedy kept her attention on Pru. "I'm not going back."

Surprise flickered over Xander's face. Kennedy ignored that too.

"You're not?" Pru's hopeful expression sliced her through the gut.

"I called a friend this morning to pack up and ship the rest of my things home from Kerry." Which, okay, she hadn't done. Yet. But she would as soon as they got back to the house. "I'm not leaving you to deal with all this alone."

Pru's eyes watered.

"Oh God, don't cry. We've all cried oceans the past week."

Pru hugged her. "Shut up. I'm allowed to cry when my sister finally comes home."

Guilt knocked hard against Kennedy's breast bone, and she couldn't stop herself from looking at Xander over her sister's shoulder. But it wasn't condemnation she saw in his eyes. It was...curiosity.

No. Oh no. She knew him. Once he started wondering about something, he was like a dog with a bone. He'd keep worrying at it until he figured it out. She had to get out of here because it was only a matter of time before he came around demanding answers she couldn't give him.

"We should get on home," Kennedy urged. "I'd like to be there in case Ari needs a pick up."

"You're right. Xander, I'll see you later. And thank your mama again for the enchiladas."

He wrapped an arm around Pru and gave her another squeeze. "I know you've still got your hands full, so if you need anything, just ask."

She smiled. "You're the best."

He made no move to touch Kennedy. As they made their way to the checkout, she told herself that was for the best. She didn't need any reminders of what it felt like to be pressed up against him. There couldn't be anything between them now, and she had plenty of mental fodder for torture without adding that to the mix. If she was truly moving home, she had to find a way to coexist with him in some kind of platonic-acquaintance way.

Still, as they loaded bags into the back of Pru's car, Kennedy couldn't stop herself from asking, "So you and Xander, huh?"

Pru stared at her with a blank expression. "Me and Xander what?"

Oh God, was she really going to make her spell it out?

"Together?" Pru laughed. "Oh, honey no. He's like my brother." She sobered, laying a hand on Kennedy's arm. "And even if he wasn't, I wouldn't do that to you."

The relief that flooded through her was appalling. In defense, she jerked her shoulders in a shrug. "It's no big deal if you did. We were a long time ago. Just kids." Kids who'd done naked things, but kids nonetheless.

Pru grabbed on to her other arm in a half embrace. "No. Never."

Kennedy fought the urge to shrug off the touch and the expression of gentle understanding. "Just thought I should check so I didn't stick my foot in it. Let's go home."

* * *

By day's end, Xander's patience was at an all-time low. He'd have given a great deal for one of those calls about loose livestock that would've taken him to the ass end of the county for hours at a time. But no. He'd been inside the Ridge proper and one call after another - from traffic stops to vandalism to welfare checks - every-damn-body in town was asking him about Kennedy. Which meant he hadn't been able to stop thinking about her for longer than five minutes since their encounter this morning. He just wanted a beer and an uncomplicated hour watching the latest basketball game in the March Madness tournament with his best friend. Logan Maxwell was a transplant to Eden's Ridge, so he wouldn't have the million questions all the locals did. Thank God.

With that in mind, Xander tugged open the door to Elvira's Tavern and stepped inside. He scanned the space, already noting a few locals who liked to over-indulge on a regular basis and a couple on the far side he was expecting a domestic disturbance call on any day now. He nodded a greeting to the various patrons who waved. Logan had beat him here and currently occupied a stool at the bar. Across from him, her tray tucked under one arm, was Trish Morgan. She leaned conspiratorially toward Logan, her generous cleavage on display in the tight Elvira's t-shirt. Please, dear God, let him not be in the mood tonight. Xander needed some guy time, not to play wingman.

"Everybody expected him to blow up, but he was nice as could be, right there in the grocery store."

Xander stopped dead in his tracks and gave serious consideration to just turning right back around and heading home. But he was out of beer at home, and he hadn't picked any up when he'd been at Garden of Eden this morning. Setting his teeth, he stepped up to the bar.

"Do people really think I'm enough of an asshole to tell her off when her mama just died?"

Trish straightened, plunking a hand down on one hip and giving the same toss of her hair she'd been giving since she was a cheerleader back in high school. "Of course not. Your mama would've tanned your hide. But it would've been understandable if you had...all things considered."

Denver Hershal, lumbered over from the other end of the bar. "We're short-handed and you got tables." The beefy bartender crossed his tattooed arms and gave a pointed look across the restaurant.

With a sassy salute, Trish sashayed off to deal with them.

"Thanks," Xander muttered.

"No problem. Usual?"

Given the pounding behind his eyes, Xander was pretty sure a Corona wasn't going to cut it, but when you were one of only a few cops in town, you were never really off duty, so the one beer it was. He nodded and turned to Logan. "Get a table?"

"Sure. I could eat."

Xander scooped up the longneck Denver set out for him, and they made their way to a table in the corner. It was in the shadows, with a decent enough view of one of the flat-screens playing the game.

As soon as they were settled, Trish was by the table. "Y'all eatin'?"

He and Logan exchanged a glance. "Loaded fries and an onion bomb."

"Comin' right up."

She headed for the kitchen, and Xander settled back in his chair, lifting the beer to his lips and checking out the score.

"So you finally saw her."

Xander bristled. "Not you, too."

"Can't blame me for being curious, man. This whole town's talking about her being back and waiting for some kind of reaction out of you about it."

"You're not the whole town."

Logan didn't flinch at the bite in his tone. "No, but I am the guy who's watched you be a wingman for the last five years without you ever wanting the same in return."

"I went to school with nearly everyone of datable age in town."

"We don't always stay in town. That hasn't changed your MO."

"You know the kind of hours I work. I'm not in a position to start a prospective relationship with anyone who doesn't live here."

"Doesn't always have to be a relationship."

"Does for me." He'd tried meaningless sex. The physical release hadn't given him what he was looking for. Not when he knew the difference of being with someone who truly mattered.

Logan tipped back his beer, nodded. "So, she's ruined you for all women."

"Don't be ridiculous," Xander snapped.

"You haven't had a serious relationship since her. Least, not one anybody knows about - which, given the grapevine in this town, I figure is probably the absolute truth."

"There have been others since Kennedy." A couple. But no one who'd really stuck.

Trish, who'd returned with their appetizers, went brows up. "How'd I not know about that?"

"It's called discretion. Go away, Trish." There was no reason for her or anybody else to know that those others had been in college, his only stint of time away from Eden's Ridge.

Logan immediately forked up some of the fries, chewing until Trish walked away to check her other tables. "I think it's that you never got any closure."

Xander tossed down his fork. "What the hell, man? You're a farmer, not Dr. Phil."

"You can take the therapist out of the master's program..."

"Which you walked away from," Xander reminded him.

"I'm just sayin'. She walked away, leaving you with the gaping question of 'Why?' I know you. That why has been driving you batshit for years. And there's probably a part of you still wondering if it's something you did or didn't do. Something that you need to learn before you can successfully be in another relationship. That makes her a mystery, and you, my fine fellow, cannot resist a mystery."

"And you can't resist an opportunity for analysis. Even though you suck at it." Scowling, Xander stabbed at the giant fried onion. Logan wasn't wrong. But damned if he was going to admit it. "Are you done playing armchair psychologist? Because I really just want to watch the game."

"Fine, fine." Logan lifted his hands in surrender. "So Tennessee's looking good in this bracket."

They talked basketball and work. Logan bitched about the tractor he had torn apart right now and how he wasn't going to get spring planting done in time if he didn't bend the bastard to his will. They made plans for poker night with some other friends next week. Degree by degree, Xander began to relax. And as he did, the single detail he'd been trying to block out all day began to circle in his mind.

Kennedy claimed to be staying in Eden's Ridge. After ten years of globetrotting, seeing and doing God knew what, she was coming home. But how long would that last? Was this just until she and her sisters sorted things with Ari and their inheritance? Would she be gone again as soon as the family situation was stable, or was she truly back in the Ridge to stay? After a decade of broader world experiences, could she possibly be satisfied by a life here?

And why the hell was he even thinking about all this? What Kennedy Reynolds did with her life was none of his concern. The only salient point in all of this was that she'd be around long enough for him to make his apology, ask his questions, and get his answers, whatever the hell they were. He'd solve the mystery and finally, at long last, move on with his life.

So why didn't that feel like enough anymore?