Page 30 of Hometown Girl

But without Harold as her mouthpiece, Jess had no one. No one left to fight for her. Everyone else was gone.

Maybe it was the chill in the air or the suddenly unsettled feeling in Drew’s gut, but he knew he couldn’t leave here without at least trying to finally do the right thing.

It didn’t matter how much he hated it.

After a nearly sleepless night, Drew got up early. He was used to early mornings, but usually he had at least six hours of sleep before getting out of bed.

Not today.

He showered, dressed, grabbed a cup of coffee from the lobby of the hotel, then made his way out to Fairwind for the Community Work Day. He wasn’t part of the community, but if they were opening the doors to the place, he’d do his part—anything to get a chance to look around and get back to Colorado.

Even annoying kids were better than this torture.

He drove the country roads out to the farm, surprised to discover a line of cars waiting on the old orchard grounds. The lot was already full, and people had taken to parking on the grass.

The activity seemed concentrated right in front of the main barn. He could still remember hiding out in the kitchen, stealing pieces of broken apple-cider donuts when the workers weren’t looking. He and Jess had had their run of the place.

As he parked the truck and scanned the property, his heart kicked into high gear, pounding in his chest like the bass drum in a band.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

Why am I here? I shouldn’t be here.

Again, Jess’s laugh echoed through his mind. He had to do this—for her.

“Just look around, Drew,” Harold had said in a particularly long voice-mail message. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Drew hadn’t bothered to respond. He could’ve at least called back to decline.

Guilt nipped at him like an untrained poodle. He’d been so selfish.

Still, sitting here on the lawn of Fairwind Farm, he didn’t know how to move forward. In his head, he was willing, but the ramifications would be great. Was there a way to jog his memory without actually reliving that day? To preserve his sanity?

He knew Harold had been collecting details on the case. The old man likely had a larger file than the police did—Drew would have to find it, assuming no one else already had. What if Harold had unearthed something new? What if there was something that filled in the blanks of Drew’s nightmare?

Could he even handle such a thing?

Twenty years had passed, and Drew had never spoken a word about that day. He wasn’t even sure he’d be able to speak up if he did remember something.

He had no time for shameful thoughts today. He got out of the truck and watched for a few long moments as people flocked toward the barn. Probably many of the same people who’d been there that day—had they all forgotten the horror? Sure, most of them hadn’t been as close to the front line as he had, but they’d been there. They’d seen the heartbreak it caused. There had never been justice—why weren’t they demanding it?

Instead, they were scurrying around with their to-go cups of coffee and their lawn equipment. They moved in groups toward the main barn, which bore almost no resemblance to the image in his mind. The paint was peeling, and the weeds had nearly overtaken the place. It was almost summer—surely these sisters didn’t hope to have Fairwind up and running by early autumn, did they? They had no idea what they were up against.

Drew glanced at the clock. Almost half past seven. The flyer said to meet in the main barn for pastries and coffee, and while an urgency to explore Fairwind bubbled inside him, he’d skipped breakfast. After his sleepless night, more caffeine was in order.

Besides, he was a stranger. He couldn’t bypass the meeting and snoop around like he owned the place.

Outside, the sun shone but the air was still crisp. Pretty perfect weather for a Community Work Day. Almost like God was smiling down on Fairwind.

Why did the thought irritate him?

Wooden folding chairs, probably left over from long ago, had been set up in rows like a church in the center of the barn. Old tables had been pushed to the edges, and the brunette he’d met on the street appeared to be serving pastries and coffee off to the side. She smiled a kind smile, happy, like she had an excitement inside her she couldn’t contain.

He didn’t remember if he’d ever felt that way about anything.

People filtered to their seats, and Drew made his way over to the coffee. As he poured himself a cup, he glanced up and saw the blond sister—the uptight one—standing on the other side of the table, staring at him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

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