Rosalie laughed as she carried on a conversation with the other woman. Bryce recalled the bright, bubbly sound of her voice. “Is her name still Campano?” he asked.

“You mean did she ever get married?”

“Yeah.”

“No. She’s single. Came close a time or two from what I understand, but it didn’t work out.”

Rosalie had never married? Bryce tried to rein in his careening thoughts. Roland took Bryce’s arm and gently tugged him toward their car parked in the opposite direction.

“Wait,” Bryce said, knowing he could be treading on emotional quicksand. “I want to say hello.”

“Maybe now’s not a good time …”

“Why not? I’m going to be seeing a lot of Rosalie. We’ll be working in the same building, maybe teaching some of the same kids.” Bryce was already several steps ahead of his dad. “Now’s the perfect time.”

It was crazy. Bryce knew that. But the closer he got to Rosalie, the more his heart pounded. For Pete’s sake. It had been almost sixteen years since Ricky had died. They’d each gone on with their lives. But heck, she was right there across the lot, where she couldn’t refuse his phone calls. Bryce always wondered if maybe he’d get the chance to tell her again how sorry he was for what happened. So he quickened his footsteps.

And then she looked up and trapped his gaze. It was only a quick glance, almost as if she hadn’t noticed him at all. But her smile faded and she turned again to her friend, said something brief and got in her car. Bryce stopped dead. Before he could have reached her, she’d backed her red compact car out of its space and was headed to the street.

And for the second time that night, Bryce felt like an idiot.

Shortly after the meeting at the high school broke up, Rosalie came in the back door of the home she still lived in with her mother. She reached down and scratched behind Dixie’s ear. The golden retriever nuzzled her soft nose against Rosalie’s jeans. The scent of fresh baked bread and pungent Italian spices filled the welcoming kitchen. A half-filled dish of lasagna sat on the table along with the remains of a salad in a seasoned wooden bowl. Rosalie called out, “Mom, you here?”

Drying her hands on a towel, Claudia came out of the pantry. “There’s plenty of lasagna left, Rosalie,” she said. “I’ll heat up a plateful if you’re hungry.”

“No, thanks. I’m going out in a little while.”

“Oh? You seeing Ted?”

Her mother was one of the few people who knew Rosalie had accepted a few dates with Whistler Creek High’s baseball coach. Rosalie tried to keep her personal life private. “No. He’s got his kids this weekend. I’m meeting Shelby downtown at the Creek Side Tavern.” She stepped to the entry to the living room and looked around. “Is Danny here?”

“No. His friends picked him up twenty minutes ago.”

Rosalie sighed with relief, pulled out a kitchen chair and slumped into it. “Good. I don’t have to pretend that everything’s okay then.”

“You certainly don’t have to pretend with me,” Claudia said. “I’ve already heard. Sharon Potter was at the meeting and she called me when she got home.”

“Then you know about our new football coach.”

“I know.” Claudia shook her head. “I always thought Bryce would come back here, especially after his divorce. And now his father had that bypass surgery …”

Rosalie blew out a long breath. “I always prayed he wouldn’t return.”

Claudia pulled out a chair and sat across the table from her daughter. “Don’t borrow trouble, Rosalie. Just because Bryce is back doesn’t mean that anything has to change.”

Rosalie sighed deeply. “I think everything will change, for me at least. I’ll have to face him at school every day this fall and I might even run into him at Benton Farms when I go there to pick up your produce orders.”

Then a startling realization occurred to her and she stared at her mother. “Like tomorrow,” she said. “I promised you I’d go to Benton’s in the morning. What if Bryce is there?”

Claudia squeezed her hand. “I don’t know where Bryce is staying, but even if he is out at his parents’ place, you can go to the market early, before most normal people are even out of bed.”

Rosalie nodded. “Yeah, I can do that. But Mom, having Bryce return to Whistler Creek feels a little like adding gasoline to a long-simmering fire.” She raised her hands. “Ka-boom.”

“You’re jumping to conclusions, Rosalie. The secret has remained buried since Danny was born. That’s a long time. Only four people are alive in this town who even know that Bryce is Danny’s father. None of us has ever broken the promise we made that night.” She frowned and looked away.

Rosalie recalled that stressful meeting at the Benton home nearly sixteen years ago. Claudia Campano had briefly argued in favor of letting Bryce know about Rosalie’s pregnancy, but she had quickly capitulated to everyone else’s desires.

Rosalie picked up a slice of bread from a basket at the center of the table and began shredding it. “I wish I were as confident as you, Mom. But in the back of my mind I picture Bryce coming face-to-face with Danny, and just, well, knowing. Like this cosmic bond will connect the two of them.”

Claudia took the mutilated bread from Rosalie’s hand. “That’s not going to happen, honey. We’ve always been careful. Growing up, Danny never questioned your story about his father.”

“That’s because Poppa was still alive and he was the only father Danny ever needed. He was better to Danny than anyone else could have been.” Rosalie clasped her hands on top of the table. “I never told you, Mom, but last year, a few months after Poppa died, Danny asked me about his real father.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“I kept up the pretense I’d established before—that his father and I only knew each other a short time.” That was a lie. She’d known Bryce all her life. “That we were only together one time.” That was the truth. “That his father was not ready to assume the responsibility of a baby.” That was the truth. “And I told Danny again that I loved him from the moment I knew he existed, and you and Poppa loved him as if he were your own, too.”

Claudia nodded. “And was Danny satisfied?”

“I guess. I appeased him by promising that later, if he wanted to try and find his father, I would help him do that. Of course, I hoped that he would never ask.”

“And he hasn’t,” Claudia said. “Just because Bryce is back in town doesn’t have to mean anything. The physical resemblance is almost nonexistent. Danny need never know.” Her eyes widened as her lips turned up in a strange sort of smile. “Unless you decide to tell him.”

“What? Mom, I can’t see that as a possibility.” Rosalie pressed her finger against the bridge of her nose where a headache was just beginning to form. “I wish I didn’t have this feeling of foreboding, like something terrible is going to happen.”

“Give this some time, Rosalie. Bryce will settle in. You’ll continue with your life—your teaching and your volunteer duties. I’ve always believed that things just work out for the best—eventually.” She touched Rosalie’s cheek. “Now, go. Get ready to meet your friends. You need to get your mind on something else.”

Rosalie stood, pushed her chair under the table. “I don’t think I’m going to be good company.” She headed toward the living room but turned around when her mother said her name. “Something else, Mom?”

“Did you talk to him, honey?”

“No. After the meeting he came toward me in the parking lot. I panicked, got in my car and drove away.” She bit her bottom lip. She’d never admit that certain instincts, long suppressed, had almost caused her to wait for him to reach her. “I wasn’t ready to face him,” she said. “I don’t think I ever will be.”

Claudia nodded. “Time will tell.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? It’s been more than fifteen years. And tonight I learned that all time has told me is that I still react to Bryce Benton.”