She’d lost her dream of holding a grandchild that she could see both herself and Lillian in. It had been like losing her best friend all over again, combined with mourning what she’d considered to be my future.

I saw it all the time around our small town—the specter of what-if. The futures parents dreamed for their children died hard around here, and laying them to rest demanded a thousand impromptu funerals over the course of a lifetime. The past could be buried and would eventually set you free. Hopes and dreams for futures that would never come to fruition? Those suckers were the real ghosts.

Mom blinked herself free of her most recent burial.

“That’s just great, Thea. I’m so proud of you. How about I walk you out? You can tell me how Jacob is doing. I just love getting to see his sweet little face around town.”

Thea agreed, then hugged me tight. “Call me. I mean it. I want to know everything.” She pulled back and gave me the same look she’d dished out around locker doors in high school.

“I promise.”

“Oh, and Willow, if you have anything you think Cam might find…useful, why don’t you take that over at the same time?” Mom hinted. “He says he’s back for good, so he might need it.”

My face flooded with warmth.

“Yep. I’ll get right on that. See you later.” I forced a smile and ushered them out my front door.

Once I shut it behind them, I leaned against the oak expanse and did my best to breathe like a normal person on a normal day.

So what if he’d jump to conclusions? So what if I’d be opening myself up to a heaping dose of ridicule and that cold, cruel stare? Mom knew damn well what I had stored in my spare bedroom, so wasn’t it better if I delivered it before she accidentally blurted out my secret to Cam? The only thing more embarrassing than what I was about to do would be him showing up and demanding it himself.

I was doing this now to save myself further humiliation…not because I stupidly wanted to see him. Right.

My bare feet crossed the sun-warmed hardwood of my little house, passing the open-concept living, dining, and kitchen area, then my office, and heading back to the two bedrooms, only one of which was occupied.

Mom and Dad built The Outpost the summer I’d decided not to go to college. The summer I’d decided to stay home and wait for Sullivan to return from deployment. Bed-and-breakfasts were huge up here, but little houses where families could vacation were even bigger. They’d rented it out for a couple of years before Mom decided that the rental business wasn’t for her, and now it was mine. Well, in another three hundred and forty-eight mortgage payments, it would be.