Chapter 4

Diana scrubbed the mascara off her face so hard she left a red patch on her cheek.

What must that Steve guy think of her? For some reason, the answer mattered more than it should.

Hopefully, she’d never have to run into him again. Facing him after literally tossing herself into his arms? Mortifying didn’t begin to cover it.

But she probably would see him again. Hadn’t he said he was friends with Laura? Even more reason to find an apartment or a rental somewhere else in town—as soon as she could.

She needed to clear her head. Going to bed before the sun had even set felt too pathetic. Without wasting another moment, she pulled her gym shoes from the closet and tugged them on. She didn’t feel like jogging, but she could at least scout out a trail for the next time she needed to escape.

Laura cleared her throat when Diana entered the kitchen.

“You okay, sweetie?” she asked, wiping her hands on her green checkered apron and giving her a small, sympathetic smile.

“I’m guessing Steve told you about my ... episode downstairs.” Diana grimaced. “Don’t worry. I’m not planning to set the inn on fire. I haven’t exactly been myself lately. Not since—” She stopped, waved it off. “Never mind. I promise I won’t act like that again.” She made a half-hearted gesture over her heart.

Laura waved her apology away. “Don’t even think about it. This is a small town. We take care of each other. You’d better get used to it.” She reached for Diana’s hand and gave it a squeeze, leaving a little dusting of flour on her fingers.

“That’s why I’m here. Principal Livingston made Middletown sound like a wonderful place to live,” Diana replied, trying to inject some life into her voice.

Laura went back to kneading a wad of dough on the counter. “I hung your dress up downstairs.”

“Thanks. Do you need help with anything? I don’t know much about cooking, but I’m willing to learn.”

“No need—I’m almost done for the night. But I appreciate the offer.” Laura wiped the back of her flour-covered hand across her forehead, smudging more white across her skin.

“Well, if you ever need me to, I do know one recipe. Scones. It’s about the only thing I can actually pull off in the kitchen.” Diana smiled as she reached for the doorknob that led to the public area of the inn.

“I’ll probably take you up on that sometime.”

“Anytime. I’m going to go for a little walk. Is it safe here?”

Laura snorted. “Safe? People around here still leave their front doors unlocked.”

Diana stepped outside and started walking. The air was incredibly fresh and clear. As she wandered the quiet streets, she admired the surrounding buildings. Even the smallest, most ordinary house had more personality than the cookie-cutter suburbs she’d grown up in. Each home looked like it had a history—stories whispered through creaky porches and peeling shutters.