“I own it.”

Oh. He opened his mouth. Then he promptly closed it. He’d forgotten her saying “my bakery.” Now all of her prior actions were starting to take on a new meaning. No wonder she’d been so desperate to save the building.

The sadness reflected in her eyes prompted him to speak. “I’m sorry this happened.”

“Me too.” Her voice was soft, but the raw pain was still evident.

“If there’s anything I can do to help.”

She shook her head. “Thanks.”

Somehow he knew that was what she was going to say. But he wasn’t going to give up that easily. There had to be something to say—something to do—that would ease some of her distress.

“Hannah!” A blond young woman that he recalled seeing around town came rushing up to her.

Hannah jumped to her feet. Immediately the women hugged. He felt bad for not being able to comfort her, but he was glad someone was now there for her.

When the women parted, he realized where he’d seen the other woman—at the café. If he spent enough time there, he was pretty certain he’d bump into everyone in town. The Lighthouse Café was popular when he was a kid, and it appeared things hadn’t changed over the years.

He got to his feet. He considered saying goodbye, but Hannah was already engrossed in conversation about the incident. He was no longer needed here.

Ethan turned his attention back to the bakery. He knew from experience that there was going to be a lot of damage from the water, starting with the caved-in ceiling. But he had no doubt it was all fixable. And now that the fire department had a pump and line running, the water was quickly being drawn out.

Just then the fire chief started across the street. He came to a stop in front of Ethan. “You did good work shutting off the water.”

Ethan shrugged off the compliment. “I just did what needed done.”

The man eyed him up. “Most people wouldn’t have known what to do.”

“I’m a firefighter.”

The chief’s gray brows rose. “It’s nice to meet you.” He stuck out a hand. “Chief Campbell.”

He shook the man’s hand. “Ethan Walker.”

“What house are you with?”

“Engine two fifty-six in Brooklyn, New York.”

The chief nodded. “A ways from home.”

“My aunt, well, my great-aunt got hurt and I’m sticking around to help her out.”

“You wouldn’t be Birdie’s nephew, would you?”

Ethan smiled at how small Bluestar was that the chief would be able to deduce who his aunt was. “Yes, sir.”

“How’s Birdie doing?”

“Much better than originally thought. The doctors thought she’d need surgery, but luckily it was a hairline break and a lot of bruising. It should heal on its own.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I won’t keep you.”

“Hey, you should stop by the firehouse. Visitors are always welcome. And we could use a new volunteer. That is if you’re sticking around for a bit.”