“What’s this for?” Rose said, holding up the bill.

“It’s for working hard for far less money than you deserve. You’re entitled to some happiness. You just have to be open to the possibilities. And it’s possible that back in high school was just the beginning for you two,” she said before slipping out of the diner and out of Rose’s sight.

Thirteen

Things weren’t exactly going as Xander had planned. He’d hoped to get back to Cornwall as soon as he could, but work got in the way and he found himself wrapped up in congressional committee sessions that lasted late into the night nearly every day.

It had taken him two weeks to get things in motion and he’d had to cash in a couple favors to get away, but he was two miles outside of Cornwall and closing in fast. But now that he was here, he had to wonder where everyone else was.

The town was quieter than usual for four o’clock in the afternoon. There weren’t a lot of cars on the road. He drove out to Rose’s apartment, but her car wasn’t there. He cruised back to Daisy’s, but her Honda wasn’t there, either. No one was there, actually. He would have called Rose on her cell phone if he thought for a moment that she would answer.

Instead he headed to the town watering hole. There wasn’t a single vehicle in the lot outside the Wet Hen, either, except for the bartender’s old truck parked out back. Curious, Xander pulled in. The bartender, Skippy, would know where everyone was. He typically had the pulse of the town.

The skinny, leathery old man at the bar looked up when he came in. “Congressman Langston,” he greeted with a casual wave. “What brings you to the Hen?”

It was a good question. Xander hadn’t stepped foot in the place in years. Of course, it looked exactly the same as it had then. And the fifty years before then. And the fifty years before that. The Hen had opened in 1897 and aside from those newfangled electric lights and the cooling systems for the liquor and the patrons, not much had changed. He went to the bar and settled onto one of the worn leather stools.

“Afternoon, Skippy. I came into town for the weekend and I can’t seem to find anyone around. Any idea where they’ve all gone?”

Skippy nodded and leaned up against the bar where Xander had seated himself. “Everyone’s probably at the ball field. The local Little League team made it to the final four in the state championships. Tonight they’re playing their last game. If they win it, they’ll play the other winner for the state title. People have really gotten excited about it. It’s all they’ve talked about on the news lately.

“I’m kinda relieved,” Skippy added. “I’m tired of all that nonsense about your folks’ place. That Wilder kid could’ve found trouble wherever you put him. Did you know I actually caught him stealing liquor out of the back room once? Who knows what he got himself into? Harassing good people like the Edens won’t get Sheriff Duke anywhere.”

Xander was glad to at least have Skippy on their side. He probably had more pull in town than the mayor did. People were very suggestible when drunk. “Thanks, Skippy. Do you know what time the game was supposed to start?”

Skippy eyed his watch. “About a half hour ago. You’d better hurry on if you’re going to see your boy play. He got his cast off a few days ago. Doc cleared him to play with a brace as long as he wears his glove and catches with his right hand.”

Xander’s gaze met Skippy’s weary dark eyes and the old man smiled. Skippy truly knew everything that went on in this town. It was a little scary. Thankfully, time had proven that Skippy kept most of his knowledge to himself. “Uh...thanks again. I’ll see you around.” He slid off the stool and bolted from the bar.

The community ball field was about five miles away. It wouldn’t take him long to get there. It did, however, take him a while to park. Everyone, and it really was everyone, had come out to support the team.

He found a spot in a lot about a block away. Little League games were only six innings, so he worried he might have missed it entirely, but everyone was still at the field and he could see the little boys in the outfield as he got closer. Xander glanced at the scoreboard. It was the bottom of the fifth inning. Joey’s team, the Litchfield Lions, was ahead by two runs. A glance at the crowd gathered around the field was intimidating. They’d spilled off the bleachers and lined the sides in lawn chairs and blankets. He tried to spy Rose in the stands, but there were so many people.

The crowd shouted encouraging words to the boys as the Lions struck out and the team ran to take their positions in the outfield. Xander took the opportunity to get people’s attention without distracting the players. “Rose!” he shouted. “Rose Pierce!”

Quite a few people turned in his direction, but she was not one of them. “She’s at the top of the bleachers by the Lions’ dugout,” someone yelled.

“Thanks!” Xander stepped through the crowd, dodging folks with popcorn and soda. With the area narrowed down, he was finally able to spot Rose sitting beside her brother, Craig. She was wearing a bright blue Litchfield Lions T-shirt and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She didn’t see him. She was fully focused on the game.

Xander stopped at the bottom of the bleachers. This was it. The moment. His heart raced like election night, but he wouldn’t let his nerves get the better of him. He performed best under pressure, right?

Rose’s gaze met his then, and she froze. A flash of surprise, then fear, then concern crossed her face before it went blank. Xander started climbing up the bleachers, cutting through the cluster of people and nearly stepping on a couple to reach the top.

This probably wasn’t the best conversation to have in public. With the whole town watching. He’d prefer to have this moment in a dark, romantic restaurant or, at the very least, without his scowling future brother-in-law there to witness the whole thing. But that was the hand fate had dealt him. At the very least, she couldn’t cause a scene. Rose didn’t like attention being drawn to her. She would have to sit there and listen to what he had to say.

Xander stopped on the metal bench directly ahead of her. He squatted down, carefully balancing where she couldn’t avoid looking at him.

“What do you want, Xander?” Her voice was cold and angry, but he wouldn’t be deterred by that.

“I want to talk to you.”

“We’ve talked enough. I’ve told you to leave us alone. Now get out of the way so I can watch my son play.”

Craig suddenly stood up. “I need a drink.” He gestured for Xander to take his seat as he stepped out toward the concession stand.

“Thanks,” Xander said, plopping down beside her.

“Craig!” Rose complained, but it was too late. She sighed and inched away from him, although there wasn’t really anyplace she could go.

Xander sat awkwardly beside her for a moment before he said anything else. “How is Joey playing? Is his arm holding up okay?”

Her eyes were focused on the field as she spoke. “He’s doing well. The arm doesn’t seem to be holding him back. He made a run in the third inning.”

“I’m glad he got his cast off in time to play.”

“Me too,” she said, seeming to grow more comfortable as they focused on the safe territory of their son.

“I love you, Rose.”

That finally drew her attention, as well as the attention of several people sitting around them. Rose’s pale skin took on a pinkish hue of embarrassment. “Xander, shhh!” she said with wide eyes.

“Shhh?” Xander repeated. “That’s not exactly what I was hoping to hear.”

Her lips twisted with anxiety. “Well, both of us seem to be suffering from disappointment lately.” She turned back to the game and cheered enthusiastically at the boys on the field.

“No one is perfect, Rose. Not me, not you. Perhaps we’ve both built up this fantasy of one another since our high school days. I’m sorry I haven’t lived up to your expectations. But you’ve got to believe me when I say the only crime I’m guilty of is loving you too much.”