Page 6 of The Locksmith's Promise

Besides, there was no denying Corwin those cinnamon buns.

Cream-cheese iced cinnamon buns, music, and a love for dogs that bordered on the insane, it amazed me how many little things he shared with the father he’d never met.

I often wondered if I should have tried harder to contact him, if I should have given him a few years and tried again, but I rested easy at night knowing I did the best I could at the time.

And it wasn’t like he couldn’t have tracked me down.

My number was the same, and my parents still lived in Moose Lake. It wouldn’t have been that difficult.

Was I tempting fate by coming home? Maybe.

But in the two months I’d been back, not one of Baxter’s friends had confronted me about Corwin. And there was no sign of Baxter anywhere.

I could almost believe we’d never been if I didn’t pass the bittersweet markers of our shared past every time I left the house.

And, well, there was my sweet Corwin.

In any case, the man I strove to avoid at all costs was gone for good, and Mom needed me at home. With her health deteriorating over the past year, I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Over the summer, I helped Dad find his equilibrium with their new normal and offered Mom a sounding board until she found her footing.

Finally, my sweet baby deserved to grow up surrounded by the people who loved him best.

Returning home with Corwin was the right decision.

At ten years old, it was time I told him the rest of the story about his father. I’d shared all the good things, and there was a lot of it. Over the past six months, he’d begun asking questions. Where better to answer them than here where Baxter and I grew up?

The place we became best friends and then lovers?

I rolled my lips between my teeth and bit down.

You should have tried harder.

I blew out my breath, slow and easy.

He could have found me if he wanted to.

Much like the first time I returned to Moose Lake with a teaching degree, I immediately landed a job at the local school.

Newly graduated teachers were apt to accept any posting they could get. Once they had a year or two of experience, they moved to the suburbs or the city leaving a constant revolving door of vacancies in small, northern towns.

Which was great for me since I wanted to be here.

I quickly secured a tiny apartment over a storefront less than five minutes walk to the school. Long-term, I wanted a house with a backyard for Corwin and Jeff, but our little apartment would do until I had time to look for something more permanent.

Returning to Moose Lake was a dream I never thought I’d realize. Of course, back then Baxter had figured largely in that fantasy.

I missed him, God, I missed him even after all these years. No one had ever seen me, all of me, the way he did.

He didn’t just accept the parts of me that were dark and moody and pessimistic, he wrapped himself around them.

Where everyone else looked at me and saw the good girl who toed the line, he gave me space to flex my wings.

More and more each day, I saw him in my son. After ten years without him, I had hoped my feelings might have faded.

But they hadn’t.

This train of thought was not the one to ride when I had to face Jenny Davis.

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