No one would notice her.

“Morning, Riley. Nice to see you out and about today.”

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned, her gaze following the heavyset woman with short black hair who’d just greeted her. Who the hell was that?

“Mornin’, Miss Riley. Can I direct you somewhere?”

She pivoted and faced a tall, lanky man in his forties or early fifties. He looked familiar. Who was he? She tried to place him.

He had a friendly smile. “You probably don’t remember me. I’m Trevor Troutman. My wife, Karen, and I lived next door to the Landaus, one of your sets of foster parents.”

That’s how she knew him. “Oh, right. Nice to see you again, Mr. Troutman.”

“You lookin’ for some place in particular?”

“No, sir. Just out for a walk.”

“Good for you. Maybe gonna snow today, so enjoy the nice weather while we have it.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll do that.”

“My Karen, she likes your music an awful lot. So do I, as a matter of fact. We’ll be coming to your concert this evening.” He looked up at the sky. “Weather permitting, of course.”

If she was lucky there’d be a blizzard and she could hide at the bed and breakfast tonight. “Of course. Thank you. I’ll see you tonight.”

So much for trying to hide out unnoticed. She should have known better. Trevor moved on, so Riley did, too.

Other than a new coat of paint or maybe a different awning, there hadn’t been too many changes on Central. It was exactly the same as it had been when she’d left. She browsed the store windows, checking out the fashion that had changed at the clothing stores. Thank God for that. At least they kept up with some trends. She smiled at the red and white striped awning of Clusters Candy Store.

Wow. It had been years since she’d thought about Clusters.

Unable to resist going inside, she hoped to see the smiling face of Paul Hazelton working the counter, his thick mane of white hair perfectly coiffed under the red and white hat he always wore.

Instead, a texting-on-her-phone, gum-popping teenager didn’t even notice Riley had come in, despite the bell ringing over the door.

Huh. Riley stepped up to the counter, her sweet tooth sparking to life at the colorful candies and chocolates beneath the glass counter.

Gum popping continued. Buttons were being pushed, both behind and in front of the counter. Deciding what she wanted, Riley looked up at the girl, who had a pile of strawberryish purplish hair pulled up in a twist on top of her head. No cute red and white hat.

Riley continued to wait, hoping she’d be noticed. She wasn’t.

Finally, she cleared her throat and the girl sighed as if Riley was the worst inconvenience ever. “Can I help you?”

Good God. Riley could see the color of the girl’s gum. She wanted to tell her to close her mouth.

When had Riley gotten old?

“Where’s Mr. Hazelton?”

“Who?”

“Paul Hazelton.”

“Oh. The old guy?”

Riley supposed bopping the girl in the nose would be uncalled for. “Yes. The man who owns the store.”

“He died two years ago. His wife sold the store to Ray Morrow, who happens to be my dad,” she said in a snooty, I’m-the-owner’s-daughter tone of voice.

“Paul Hazelton is dead?” Riley’s stomach pitched. “Oh, poor Pattie. What’s she doing now?”

The girl gave a shrug. “Last I heard she’s in Florida with one of her kids. So do you want some candy?”

Riley forced back tears. Mr. Hazelton had always had a smile for her when she came into the store. He told jokes. Bad, corny jokes, but he’d always made her laugh. The candy store had been one of her best memories of this town, and now this smartass teenager didn’t give a damn about whether kids were happy when they left the store or not.

“So do you want candy or not?”

She sniffled and nodded, gave the girl her order and walked out, swiping tears out of her eyes as she made an abrupt turn and smacked right into an unmoving brick wall chest, dropping her bag of candy.

Dammit.

She squatted to the ground to pick up the scattered candy.

“You always were a sucker for gum drops and licorice.”

Her gaze shot up and there was Ethan, warm eyes considering her. Wasn’t this just perfect?

She lifted her gaze to his. “Paul Hazelton died, some snotty teenager who doesn’t give a damn works in there now, and I dropped my candy.”

Tears filled her eyes. She wasn’t weak, she didn’t cry. She scrambled to pick up the pieces, both literally and figuratively.

“Let me help.”

She shooed his hands away. “I’ve got it. I’m just clumsy.”

He was smiling at her, his sexy, sensual smile that had always made her feel all gooey inside. The smile that probably made Amanda feel all gooey inside now.

If he was even still with Amanda. She had no idea who Zoey’s mother was. His little girl looked just like him. Dark hair, whiskey-colored eyes, a dimple on the left side of the cheek. She’d noticed Zoey’s dimple, too. It was so cute.

“Riley?”

“No, I’m fine. Sorry. I was distracted.”

“I’ll go inside and replace your candy.”

“Don’t. I don’t need it anyway.”

He laughed at that and was already up and in the shop before she could object. She followed him inside.

“You back for more already?” the girl asked.

“She’s a candy fiend,” Ethan said. “Always was.”

“Har har.”

“Actually, she dropped her bag outside, Tiff, so replace whatever it was she had, and add two bricks of rocky road and a quarter pound of Now and Laters for me.”

Despite not wanting to be in here—again—she couldn’t help but smile at Ethan’s selection. “I see your candy choices haven’t changed, either.”

“I need the energy for work.”

“Yeah? What work is that?”

“Wyatt, Brody and I own the construction company now that Dad is retired.”

“That must keep you busy.”

“Very.”

She took the bag from gum-chewing girl. Ethan paid. “I can pay for my own candy.”

He slanted her a look. “And I can afford a couple bucks for it.”

They walked outside. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Ethan started walking, so Riley went with him. “So…you working in town today?”

“Yeah, over there.” He pointed across town where a steel frame could be seen. “New performing arts center. Gotta have culture here. If you’d waited a year you could be putting on your concert there.”

“Oh. I guess I’ll have to suck it up at the high school gym.”

He reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of candy. “I imagine that’s one hell of a step down for you.”

No way was she taking the bait. Time to turn the tables.

“Where’s Zoey today?”

“At my parents.”

“Not home with her mother?”

“No.”

Maybe Zoey’s mother worked. And wasn’t Ethan being evasive? She’d bet she knew why. Might as well find out and get it over with. “So…did you end up marrying Amanda?”

He stilled and Riley bit her cheek, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. Why couldn’t she have talked about the weather or something?

“Yeah, about that.”

“Hey, none of my business. Sorry.”

“I did marry Amanda. In answer to your next question, yes, she’s Zoey’s mother.”

“Okay. Look, Ethan, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Amanda died four years ago.”

The sidewalk spun out from under her. She stopped, turned and stared at him. “What?”

Ethan dragged his fingers through his hair. “Shit. Not the way I wanted to tell you this. I should have told you sooner, but didn’t want to in front of Zoey. It’s not something you blurt out when you first see someone after ten years.”

She hadn’t heard anything he’d said, his earlier words still spinning around in her head. “She died?”

“Yes.”

Riley knew she was staring, but she had no idea what to say. Shock left her speechless. She’d had so many things she’d wanted to say to Ethan and Amanda, so many of them self-righteous, so many of them scathing and damning. She’d even had a speech all planned out, full of indignation and finger pointing, everything she’d wanted to say ten years ago and couldn’t because she’d run. And all her anger and hurt had just disappeared into the ether. Her chest tightened. She reached up and rubbed the aching spot on her breastbone.

Had everyone she cared about died while she was gone? It suddenly seemed that way. Tears sprang fresh again and she finally made eye contact with Ethan and saw the pain in his eyes. “Oh God. Oh, Ethan, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

There was kindness in his face, sympathy for her she knew she didn’t deserve.

“I know you didn’t.”

She had no idea what to say, could only gawk at him as she stood rooted to the spot, frozen in time as she was propelled back ten years ago, before she found Ethan in bed with her best friend. Back when Amanda and she were tight, were best buds. When they used to laugh with each other, share all their secrets. They’d been inseparable then, had vowed to never be apart.

They were supposed to be best friends forever.

And then one night had shattered all that and she’d never spoken to Amanda again.

Now she’d never be able to.

“Riley?”

Pulling herself from the past, she looked around at the crowds, at the people who slowed down to stare, and finally dragged her gaze to Ethan.

What must he think of her? He was the one who’d lost everything. He’d lost his wife, the woman he’d obviously loved. Zoey had lost her mother.

“What happened? You don’t want to talk about this, do you? It’s none of my business. I’m sorry. I should move on instead of asking questions you don’t want to answer.”

Ethan knew the time would come when he’d have to tell Riley about Amanda. He just hadn’t figured it would be right now. Then again, would there ever be a right time?

Judging from her shocked and pale face, probably not.

“Come on.” He took her arm and led her through the library and out the back door, waving at Barb, the head librarian, as they hurried past. On the other side of the street was the construction trailer. He opened the door for her and she stepped inside.

Fortunately, they were alone.

“Have a seat. Want something to drink?”

“No, thanks. Really, you don’t have to—”

“It was leukemia, and it was bad. She didn’t make it a year after the diagnosis. We tried everything. Chemo, radiation, alternative treatments, but it was aggressive. There was nothing we could do.”

Riley stared up at him. “That’s too young. She was, what? Twenty-four or so?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m…not in touch with people here. I didn’t know.”

He shrugged and leaned against the desk. “No reason for you to know.”

She inhaled and shuddered out a sigh. “So many people I knew. My whole life was here and I just walked away from it. From everyone.” She lifted her gaze to his. “It’s not like I didn’t care. I did.”

“I know.” And he did. He understood why. He was the reason. He and Amanda.

“I never hated you. I never hated her.”

He gave her a faint smile. “Yes you did.”

Her eyes filled with tears. She let them slide down her cheeks. He hated being the cause of her pain again.

“Dammit, Ethan. She’s dead. I never wanted that. I was angry and hurt, but I never wished harm to Amanda.”

He pushed off the desk and came to her, kneeled in front of her. “Don’t cry. I know you didn’t. Amanda dying isn’t on you. It was a circumstance.”

She sniffed, shoved the heel of one hand under her chin. “I’m just so sorry for you and for Zoey. It’s a horrible thing.”

“Zoey’s resilient. She misses her mom, but she has me, her uncles, and my parents.”

“What about Amanda’s parents?”

Ethan shook his head. “They took her death hard. Really hard. They withdrew and couldn’t cope, not even with Zoey.”

Her eyes widened. “Good God. How could they miss connecting with Zoey?”

Ethan stood, shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I tried to reach out to them, but they wanted no part of me or Zoey after Amanda died. They left town a year later, said they couldn’t handle the memories.”

Riley shook her head. “That makes no sense, Ethan. Zoey was their connection to her.”

“Don’t ask me to explain them. I can’t.”

“I’m sorry for them, but not surprised. They were always so wrapped up in Amanda. She was their life.”

“Losing her broke them. They were so angry, bitter, blamed me for it.”

“How could they blame you for a disease? You didn’t give her leukemia.”

“I shouldered it because they needed to blame someone for the senseless loss of their little girl. How else do you explain why a twenty-four-year-old healthy woman dies?”

Riley bent her head to her chest for a few minutes and Ethan let her grieve. When she lifted her head, she wiped her eyes and straightened her shoulders. But the pain in her eyes—that shredded him. It brought back the loss as if it had just happened yesterday.