They’d decorated both vehicles.

“There are no secrets in Hilltop,” Amarok grumbled.

Those who’d lingered to follow them were joined by others who came out from the trees, where they’d been hiding, to razz them and film their reaction.

It took longer to clean the windshield than it did to drive home. While there were some drawbacks of living in such a small town, there were definite advantages, too.

Amarok helped Evelyn out of the vehicle and then seemed determined to carry her across the threshold.

“What about your shoulder?” she asked when he stopped her from going in on her own power.

“It’s fine. Almost healed.”

“This could break it open again. Are you sure you really want to do this?”

“Call me traditional,” he said, and they both laughed as he swept her into his arms.

After Tobias ordered his coffee, someone stood up to leave, enabling him to snag a seat at a small corner table near a window that had a Christmas wreath hanging in the middle of it. The guy who’d just walked out had left his newspaper behind, which was lucky. Tobias wanted to take a look at the sports page and hadn’t thought to buy one on his way over, but before he could even turn to that section, he heard the barista call out a name that made him look up.

“Harper!”

He’d only ever heard of one Harper.

A quick glance at the faces lingering around the counter confirmed it was Harper Devlin, the woman he’d noticed at the Eatery last night.

What were the chances that he’d run into her again, especially so soon?

She didn’t hear the barista. At least, she didn’t react when he called her name. Standing to one side, out of the way of the line that snaked out the door, she stared off into space, obviously a million miles away.

That was when Tobias realized there was a song by Pulse playing on the sound system. He could hear Axel Devlin singing, “I will always love you.” Had he written those lyrics for her?

“Harper?” the barista called again.

Still no reaction. She was completely lost in thought.

Dropping the newspaper, Tobias got up and claimed her drink for her. But even as he approached, she didn’t seem to see or hear him.

“Hey, you okay?” He gave her arm a slight nudge as he held out her beverage.

Startled, she looked up and, as her eyes finally focused, he noticed the shimmer of unshed tears—which she immediately blinked away. “You,” she said, recognizing him.

She took her drink, and he shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. “Yes, me. But don’t worry, I’m not following you. When I heard the barista call your name, I looked up and there you were.”

She didn’t so much as smile. “Thanks.”

“Are you okay? Because it looks like you could use a minute to sit down and relax, and I just happen to have a table.” He motioned to where he’d left the paper.