Brynne scooped the cat up, a dizzying process all by itself, and snuggled him for a few moments. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Everything’s okay, little guy. I promise.”

Waldo probably wasn’t convinced, given that his ruff was damp with Brynne’s tears by that point, but he stopped yowling at least, and that was a mercy.

As she showered, she wondered who she could call—Sara? Melba Summers? Connie Sue Hildebrand, the day receptionist at the sheriff’s headquarters?

Brynne hadn’t come to a decision even when she was dressed in her “day off” outfit of jeans and an old college sweatshirt—Bailey’s was closed on New Year’s Day, though the cleanup crew was downstairs, making plenty of noise as they worked.

Figuring one of them might know what was happening, she hurried down to the restaurant’s kitchen, where the commercial dishwashers were running at capacity, and steam from the sinks coated every surface in condensation.

There were no people in evidence, so Brynne proceeded to the dining and bar area, up front.

Her crew—three waitresses and two cooks, all being paid double time—were standing on the sidewalk, huddled against the cold, talking on cell phones and gesturing to each other.

Again, Brynne felt sick.

A single name thrummed inside her like a second heartbeat, Eli—Eli—Eli.

She made it to the door, called everybody back inside where it was warm. None of them had bothered with a coat.

“What’s happening?” she demanded, her gaze moving from one face to another.

The consensus?

Nobody knew.

Brynne’s knees threatened to give out, and Miranda, her second mother, took her by one arm and dragged her to a chair.

“Put your head between your knees, Brynne,” Miranda commanded, once she’d been seated. “Harry, run to the storage closet and get a brown paper bag.”

“I’m all right,” Brynne protested, but weakly. Her breathing had gone fast and shallow again, just as it had upstairs, when she’d first realized Eli’s SUV wasn’t in the speeding convoy.

“You’re not all right,” Miranda argued. And then she laid one strong hand to Brynne’s nape and forced her head down. “Now do as I say.”

Miranda had worked for Brynne’s parents for some twenty years by the time the business changed hands. She’d helped raise the Baileys’ only child, in fact, and she had a certain authority because of that.

That and her naturally bossy nature.

Someone brought a glass of ice-cold water after the blood had returned to Brynne’s brain, and she sipped it gratefully, embarrassed by her behavior, by what she’d revealed.

She had a thing for Sheriff Eli Garrett.

Most likely, nobody was surprised, however. No one who had witnessed that midnight kiss couldn’t have any real doubts.