Page 12 of Starcrossed Colorado

I turned away, fizzing with optimism.See? I thought.This is going to be great.

While I waited for my latte, I walked over to the far side of the café, where bookshelves stretched along the wall offering usedbooks for sale. I saw sections for both romance and thrillers, two of my favorite genres. At the other end of the shop, there was a fireplace and a collection of comfy, overstuffed chairs. No fire going, since it was June and sun shone through the front windows.

The most striking feature of the cafe, aside from the butcher-block coffee counter, was a huge handmade quilt with designs of mountains and trees hanging in a prominent spot.

I could already tell I would be spending a lot of time here. When I wasn’t teaching my classes and private lessons, of course.Take that, Ashford.

Piper called my name. I went up to grab my order, then sank into a chair by the fireplace. The first sip of my latte zipped through my veins. Dang, the woman had made good on her promise. I glanced over at the counter, catching Piper’s eye, and lifted my cup in thanks.

Once I’d connected to the coffee shop’s wi-fi, I checked my messages. I’d managed to text my mom, dad, and stepmom last night that I’d arrived. Cell service had been enough for that. But not much else. I sent my stepmom, Madison, a longer check-in, followed by a message to my uncle Aiden and his wife over in Hartley. I’d have to get over there to visit them one of these days. Once things had settled down for me in Silver Ridge.

Against my better judgment, I logged on to my socials. My friends from music school hadn’t written. Seemed like they wanted to pretend I didn’t exist anymore.

That hurt more than anything else. The fact that none of them had given me the benefit of the doubt in that awful scandal.

But I did have posts and messages waiting from my high school and college besties. Thankfully, none of them knew about what had happened last semester, and they never would.

I sank my teeth into the mocha donut, moaning at the perfect play of coffee, chocolate, and carbs across my tongue. Piper was officially my favorite person in Silver Ridge.

I still had a few minutes until Dixie was supposed to arrive, so I poked around online. And then, without giving myself much chance to think about it, I googledAshford O’NealandSilver Ridge, Colorado.

I took another bite of donut while my eyes scanned the results. There was a website and some social pages for O’Neal Martial Arts. Somehow, the man had managed a smile for the cover photo of his business page. It annoyed me how handsome he was. Also, the way his biceps and pecs popped beneath his tight T-shirt.

Moving on.

I perused the next few results, mostly killing time. But then my eye stopped on a news article.Highway Fatality Under Investigation.

I clicked on the article and gasped as I read it.

It was from three years ago, and recounted how a young mother named Lori O’Neal had been hit and killed by a car on the highway outside of town.

Her husband’s name? Ashford O’Neal.

I remembered that small white cross I had seen yesterday. It hadn’t looked that old. Could that have been for Lori? My heart went out to Ashford and his family. Especially to his daughter, who I assumed was the one Ashford had mentioned yesterday. That poor girl. To lose her mom like that, in such a tragic way…

In fact, the entire incident yesterday hit differently. Ashford’s reaction to seeing me out there. The way he had seemed so angry. Had he been thinking of his wife’s death?

I finished reading the article, followed by another I found from about a week afterward, which cleared the driver of the car of any wrongdoing. Lori had run out onto the highway at night.The driver of the car hadn’t been able to stop in time. They’d called the paramedics right away, but it had been too late. A tragic accident.

She’d run onto the highway. Why? What had she been running from?

“Emma? Is that you?”

I looked up and found an older woman standing beside my chair. Chin-length white hair, reading glasses on a long chain.

“Dixie?”

“Guilty as charged.”

I stood up and gave her a hug. “It’s so good to finally meet you in person.”

We’d been communicating by email so far. But I’d sent her a scan of my driver’s license for the credit and background checks, which was probably how she’d known what I looked like. Now that I was standing, it was obvious how petite she was. Way shorter than me, and I was no giant. Dixie wore a pair of shiny gold platform sneakers, which added an inch or two to her frame. Besides making a dramatic fashion statement, naturally.

“I love the shoes,” I said.

“Why, thank you.” Dixie held me by the shoulders to look me over. “Aren’t you a stunner. The young men of Silver Ridge are in for a shake-up. We’ve got plenty of eligible bachelors eager to show a girl a good time, if the walks of shame I see every morning are anything to judge by.”

I snorted a laugh, my face heating. Dixie did not have a quiet voice, and I was pretty sure half the coffee shop was listening to us.

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