Xander had written the note himself, but he’d feigned surprise and chased after Ken when he’d rushed to the bunkhouse. There they’d found his bed hadn’t been slept in and all of Tommy’s things were gone. When asked, none of the boys said they had seen Tommy leave or knew where he could’ve gone. Ken had immediately called the police and turned over the letter. From there, the professionals had tried, and failed, to determine what had become of Tommy Wilder.

It was the same story Ken had always told. The same story Molly and Xander and everyone else told. It was all they knew to tell. The press and Sheriff Duke couldn’t do much more than write down their statements and go home. There was no crime scene to study or evidence left to collect. Tommy’s letter had been misplaced when the sheriff’s department archived old case files years ago.

There was an old story and a body, and between them, a gap big enough for Tommy to disappear into it.

Heath had been worried that it wouldn’t be enough, but it seemed to hold. Xander had planted enough seeds of doubt in the sheriff’s mind that attention would eventually shift away from his family. Tommy had been a magnet for trouble, after all. That was a well-documented fact. It wasn’t a stretch to suggest that perhaps Tommy had run off to meet someone. Maybe he’d been involved in dealing drugs or something else with dangerous and untrustworthy people. Anything could’ve happened to him once he left the safety of the bunkhouse.

All Xander needed was reasonable doubt and he was satisfied that he had it. Thankfully, he’d reached that point when he had. Congress would be back in session come Monday. He couldn’t do anything more at the farm right now. The only other reason for him to stay in Cornwall was to work things out with Rose, and as much as he might want to do that, she was very firm about him staying away for a while.

So he went home. Once he was able to lose himself in his job again, maybe the sharp pain that stabbed him in the chest every time he thought of her would fade away.

Xander sipped the last of his Scotch and sighed. The liquor had done its work and numbed the darkest thoughts in his brain. Now perhaps he could get some sleep. He wasn’t going to pass out on the stool at the kitchen island, so he needed to head upstairs. He left the glass on the counter and stumbled back to grab his bags. He hauled them up into his room and set them on the foot of the bed. His bigger bag could wait for the morning to be unpacked, but he needed his toiletries and things out of the smaller duffel that he used for his sleepovers at Rose’s apartment.

Methodically, he went about unpacking it, setting aside his case of grooming items and a few other things. He was rummaging through some dirty clothes when his fingers brushed against something hard and rough in texture. He didn’t recall packing anything like that, so he felt around until he found it again and pulled the item out to examine it.

Holding it in his hand, Xander glanced down and his mouth dropped open. He stumbled back to sit on the mattress before his knees gave out.

It was a picture frame. He remembered making one just like this when he went to scout camp twenty years ago. It was a craft project made of painted Popsicle sticks and backed with felt. Hard macaroni noodles were glued to the frame and decorated with puff paint and glitter.

The picture in the frame was of him, Rose and Joey under the Camp Middleton sign. He’d forgotten they’d even taken that picture until now. They looked just like a happy family in the photo. Joey was beaming with the excitement and anticipation of going to camp. Rose seemed nervous, but she hid it well from her son. Xander smiled awkwardly, as though he felt out of place, but Rose’s grip on his arm kept him firmly in place. It was a nice picture of the three of them.

And then he looked at the words along the top. Spelled out in foam cutout letters was Dad, Mom & Me.

It was as though someone had punched him in the gut as hard as they could. Joey knew. They hadn’t told him. Hadn’t breathed a word of it, but he knew the truth. His son had made this picture frame for him at camp and slipped the gift into his bag when he wasn’t looking. Probably while Xander was in the bedroom fighting with Rose.

His son gave him this gift and minutes later Xander had walked out of his son’s life without a word of explanation. He felt sick. The Scotch that only a moment ago had soothed him was now churning in his belly and threatening to rise up into his throat.

What was he going to do? How could he convince Rose to let him back in their lives?

Xander had no intention of abandoning his son. It was bad enough that Joey had gone through the first ten years of his life without a father. But if the situation with Tommy took a turn for the worse, would it hurt his son more to have an absent father or, as Rose had pointed out, a criminal one?

He dropped his forehead into the palm of his hand and stared down at the picture. His son’s eyes were so much like his own. He reminded him so much of himself when he was that age. The same age when he had lost his father.

It would be cruel to give Joey a father at last and then rip him away in the same breath.

Rose might not like it, but he wasn’t going to stay away. He’d already kept his distance for far too long. No matter what happened on the farm this week or next week or next year, he would be a part of Joey’s life. He wasn’t going to walk away from his son.

Or the mother of his child.

* * *

Rose placed a curl of candied lemon peel as the finishing touch on her lemon chiffon cake. It was beautiful and delicious, the fifth dessert she’d made today. She slid it into the dessert display case and went back out front to check on a few of her diners at the counter.

It had been a month since the bake-off. Three weeks since she’d thrown Xander out of her apartment and tossed away their future together. In that short amount of time, things had changed very quickly for her.

First she was approached at the diner one afternoon by the man who owned three other eateries in the area. He was one of the judges of the bake-off and wanted to know if she was interested in providing all the desserts for his restaurants. One of his locations was a dinner-only establishment, so he offered her the kitchens to bake in the mornings. He even told her she could do any kind of baking she liked, even for other restaurants.

It wasn’t enough to keep her from having to wait tables, but it was a start. The major impediment to starting her own baking business was getting the licenses and permits. She needed a dedicated kitchen that was subject to health inspections. That was something she simply couldn’t afford, but using the restaurant kitchen was perfect. Making desserts for both places was a great supplement to her income and there was always the hope that it would lead to more work with other restaurants. Then maybe, one day, her own bakery.

It was the one bright thought she clung to during the darkest of days. Xander had been the one to suggest the idea of opening her own bakery and it had offered a welcome distraction. It gave her something to talk to Joey about where she didn’t get upset. She didn’t want to cry in front of her son. Then she might have to explain what was really going on and where Xander had gone.

She didn’t know if he was still in town or not, but he had done as she asked and stayed away. It was probably easy for him with everything else happening. She wasn’t entirely sure what was going on; she was avoiding the news as best she could. She already knew more about the situation than she’d ever wanted to.

Rose couldn’t get away entirely, though. As she wiped down the counter, the sound of the local newscast taunted her from the other side of the counter. There was no way she could get away from it with the television in the diner always finding its way back to the local news every time she turned around.