Chapter 65

RILEY

I stood beside Mom as Eric unlocked his truck. After two weeks of editing his manuscript, he was finally heading to New York City to meet with his agent and publishing house. For someone who'd already published two books, he seemed incredibly nervous.

Eric threw his duffel bag onto the back seat. "Remember to call me. For anything. I can't do much from Manhattan, but I know plenty of people who are closer."

"I have your cell phone number on speed dial," I joked, trying to lighten the mood. Eric's relieved smile made me sigh.

"Alex is twenty minutes away, so don't hesitate to contact him, either. There's another bag of Sherlock's kibble in my laundry and the vet's number is on the contact list I gave you."

The contact list he was talking about had at least thirty numbers. I'd lived in Sunrise Bay most of my life, and even I didn't know that many people. "We'll be okay," I assured him. "Have fun in New York City. We'll see you when you get back."

"Are you trying to get rid of me without giving me a hug?"

I laughed at the forlorn expression on his face. "We wouldn't dream of sending you into the big old world without a hug."

"Good, because you're not getting a choice." Eric gently wrapped his arms around me. "Be safe and don't eat too much candy at Jonathan's store opening."

I poked him in the ribs. "You're just jealous you won't be there."

"Maybe," he laughed.

It was good to hear him laugh, even if he was stressed. The last two weeks had been an emotional roller-coaster for both of us. Eric's PTSD had added another layer of uncertainty to his life, but with a doctor who'd helped a lot of PTSD patients, he was in good hands.

"Good luck in New York City, Eric." Mom gave him a hug. "Tell your publisher they need to pay you more money. Your book will be another bestseller."

I smiled at her. Eric had sent us electronic copies of his manuscript, and we devoured each page. Aaron Connelly fought for justice and won. My only disappointment was that Aaron didn't fall in love with the gorgeous medical examiner.

Eric knelt on the ground and hugged Sherlock. "Be a good boy for Riley and his mom. I'll be home on Friday."

As Eric climbed into his truck, Sherlock gave an excited woof before looking up at me.

"Not today. You can go in the truck another time."

Sherlock gave a half-hearted whine before sitting quietly at my feet.

Eric rolled down the passenger window. "I'll call you as soon as I land."

"Sounds good. Drive safely."

With a final wave, he drove away from the cottage.

Mom smiled. "I bet he calls before he leaves the airport in Denver."

"It wouldn't surprise me, either." I watched the truck until it disappeared from view. It sounded silly, but I missed Eric already.

"He'll be okay. His family will look after him."

"I know. It's just…" I tried to put into words how I felt. "Sometimes I wonder if this is all a dream. I never thought I'd love someone as much as I love Eric."

Mom's eyes filled with tears. "Your daddy made me feel the same way. It was a shame it didn't last."

"Do you miss him?"

"Sometimes. We were happy for so long that it came as a shock when it was over. But we've both moved on and are happy."

I patted Sherlock. "Do you ever think you'll remarry?"

"I don't know." A mischievous smile lit her face. "You don't know any sixty-year-old millionaires who like spending money on their girlfriend, do you?"

"Not at the moment." I laughed. "But if I meet anyone who looks promising, I'll let you know."

"You do that." Mom wrapped her hand around my elbow and helped me up the stairs. "Do you still want to visit the cemetery after lunch?"

I sat on the sofa. "I'd like that. I wonder what Grandma and Granddad would think of everything that's happened."

She handed me a cup of wildberry tea. "They'd say it's all part of the history of the lake. Did Granddad ever tell you the story about Mad Mitch?"

I shook my head.

"Well, have I got a story for you." Mom sat on the sofa and sipped her tea. "It all started one dark and stormy night…"

I smiled as her voice rose and fell in a theatrical whisper. There was nothing like a good ghost story to banish the real demons, especially when they kept reappearing in my dreams.