Safely Home by Ruth Logan Herne Page B

The image fled his brain so quick, he was pretty certain it never should have been there.
    “Fool’s dreams” the old lady would say if he talked about anything he thought he remembered. “Don’t you be goin’ and fillin’ your head with fool’s dreams. It’s you and me, Charlie Backus, and that’s how it’s gonna stay.”
    He bit his lip, determined, as he sloshed water over the worn-down picnic table alongside the back porch. She’d have her way now, most likely, but someday, oh...
    Someday he’d take that walk down that drive and up that road. And he’d never, ever look back.
    *
    “What was all that thumping and bumping?” Gran demanded as Cress came downstairs later, showered and clean.
    “You look better and sound normal.” Cress flashed her a teasing grin. “Oddly, my relief counteracts the annoyance.”
    “Stupid drugs.”
    Cress nodded, set a hand on Gran’s shoulder for a brief moment, but knew not to sympathize too much. “Necessary evil.”
    “So.” Gran drew up an old stool, settled on it, and began shelling dried beans into a big, wooden bowl, just roughed up enough to make it serviceable, not decorative. “What was that racket upstairs?”
    “You mean when I fell on my butt or when I was stomping around, muttering incorrigible words of anger because physical therapy sucks?”
    That brought a smile to Gran’s face. “Sounded just like the temper tantrums you threw when you were a little girl.”
    “Wrong girl.” Cress shook her head, her chin firm. “Kiera was the temperamental one. I was the good child.”
    Gran snorted. “You were a corker then, you’re a corker now. Time don’t change some things.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe softens them a little.”
    “Not in every case, though.”
    Cress turned toward Alex’s voice, hoping the jog of anticipation that jump-started her heart didn’t show in her response. “You here for coffee, Counselor, or money? I think Gran’s tapped out at the moment.”
    He tossed her a look that said ‘stuff it’, then bent to give Gran a nice, big hug which made Cress more than a little bit envious. When he released the old gal, she leveled a stern look to Cress. “You leave Alex alone. He’s a good friend.”
    Cress put her hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, Gran. Whatever makes you happy.”
    “Hmph.”
    Alex reached out for the box he’d set inside the door before greeting Gran. “Donuts. An assortment. I wasn’t sure what kind you liked,” he jerked his head Cress’s way, eyes down, “But they had one called an ‘attitude’ donut. Figured it would be perfect for you, Crescent.” He reached into the box and pulled out a white-frosted, chocolate donut. A scowling face topped the white glaze, piped in dark chocolate frosting, ragged eyebrows and all. Alex held the donut up, facing him, his gaze shifting from Cress to the pastry as if weighing differences. “Just what I thought.” He offered a nod of approval as Cress’s frown deepened. “Spitting image.”
    “You’re not funny.”
    “No?” His gaze noted the tilt of humor she couldn’t quite hide. “I think you’re wrong, Detective. I’m quite funny. And hungry. Got coffee?”
    Gran stood, flapped her apron at him when he started to protest that he could get his own coffee, and moved to the counter. “Nice and fresh, just like you like it.”
    “You spoil him.” Deliberately ignoring the scowling donut, Cress reached into the box for a cruller. She took a bite, savoring the delicate mix of air-filled egg cake and sweet glaze. “I love these things.”
    Alex eyed the egg-puffed pastry, disbelieving. “Mostly air.”
    “Mm hmm.” She nodded around a second, more generous bite. “That way I can eat as many as I want and not feel guilty.”
    “But I only got one.” Was that remorse she sensed in his voice, or heartburn? Most likely heartburn, she decided, but then he leaned closer, hands clasped against his knees. “I’d have gotten more if I