Chapter 2 Stranger in Town

It was almost noon by the time I made it into town, dust trailing behind my old truck like smoke from a dying fire. The transmission whined in protest every time I shifted, but I knew better than to push her too hard. Like everything else I owned, the truck was holding on with more heart than metal.

I parked in front of Marlene's Café, the only place in town where the coffee was strong, the gossip was stronger, and you could order a slice of pie before noon without getting judged.

The bell above the door jingled as I stepped inside. Familiar faces looked up, gave me polite nods, then went back to their meals. It was always the same crowd, ranch hands, retired teachers, bored wives. And today, one unfamiliar silhouette sitting at the window.

Liam Cole.

He was sipping coffee like he belonged here, one hand wrapped around the mug, the other scribbling in a small notebook. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, revealing a wristwatch that probably cost more than my truck. He looked up, met my eyes, and smiled like we were old friends.

I almost turned around.

Instead, I walked past him and found a seat at the counter.

"Amara, honey," Marlene called from behind the bar. "You look like you've been wrestlin' bulls all morning."

"Just chickens," I said with a faint smile. "They're meaner."

She laughed and poured me a fresh cup. "Your usual?"

"Please."

While she bustled off, I glanced sideways. Liam was still looking in my direction, not staring exactly, just... observing.

I hated that.

Eventually, he stood and walked over, casual as you please. "Mind if I sit?"

Yes. "Sure," I said instead.

He slid onto the stool beside me like he'd done it a thousand times. "Didn't think I'd run into you again so soon."

"Small town," I replied. "We don't exactly have a lot of hiding places."

He chuckled. "That's kind of the appeal."

I sipped my coffee, watching him out of the corner of my eye. He didn't seem nervous or out of place. If anything, he looked like he wanted to blend in. But there was something too polished about him. Too... intentional.

"Find anything worth writing about yet?" I asked, nodding toward his notebook.

"A few things," he said. "You, mostly."

I froze.

"I mean the farm," he added quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I haven't seen a place like that in years. It's beautiful."

I narrowed my eyes. "What exactly are you writing, Liam?"

"A novel," he said smoothly. "Or trying to. Inspiration's been a little hard to come by lately."

I didn't believe him. But I didn't call him out either.

Marlene came back with my sandwich and fries, giving Liam a once-over like a hawk sizing up a snake.

"You staying long?" she asked him pointedly.

"Few weeks, maybe more," he said. "I like it here."

"Hmm," was all she said before heading off to refill someone's iced tea.

I picked at my fries, thinking about the farm, the letters in Dad's drawer, the weight pressing against my ribs like I'd inhaled the wrong kind of air.

"I meant what I said earlier," Liam said after a minute. "About your farm. It really is special."

"Special doesn't pay the bills," I muttered.

"No," he said gently, "but sometimes it buys you time."

I turned to him, surprised. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Just that value isn't always about numbers. Some places carry weight, history, memory. People notice that, even if they pretend they don't."

I frowned. That was... not the answer I expected.

"Are you in real estate?" I asked.

He smiled. "No. But I've been around long enough to know how that world works."

It wasn't a yes or a no. It was a dance around the question.

"So, you write novels," I said. "But you know a lot about land and value."

"I'm a curious person," he said simply. "I've worked in different spaces. Corporate. Legal. A bit of investment. Now I'm trying something new."

"And you just happened to choose my town," I said, lifting an eyebrow.

"Fate," he said, deadpan.

I laughed, just once and surprised myself.

He leaned back, watching me like I was a riddle he was enjoying too much to solve quickly.

"I'm not used to strangers showing up with smooth lines and expensive watches," I said, more to myself than him.

"I'm not used to being met with a shovel and a death glare," he replied, grinning.

"Welcome to Oakridge," I said dryly.

He laughed again. "I like it here."

That made me pause. I looked at him, really looked this time. There was something behind the charm, a flicker of tension in his jaw, a flash of something tired in his eyes. Whatever brought him here, it wasn't just fresh air and pie.

Before I could ask more, the bell jingled again.

Gracie walked in.

She spotted me, then did a double take when she saw Liam sitting beside me. Her eyebrows shot up, and I could already hear the teasing that would come later.

I groaned inwardly.

"Hey, sis," she said, sliding onto the stool on my other side. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Liam," I said. "He's a..."

"Writer," he cut in smoothly, offering his hand. "Staying in town for a bit."

Gracie shook it, eyes narrowing. "Nice watch."

"Thanks," he said with a small smirk. "It tells time. And apparently, it tells people things about me."

Gracie laughed. "You're funny. That's dangerous around here."

I rolled my eyes. "He's harmless."

Liam didn't flinch, but something flickered in his expression. Regret, maybe. Or guilt.

I couldn't be sure.

But I felt it.

And suddenly, I wasn't sure if I believed my own words.