She heard Carolee come in, call out. Hope ordered the rest of her work, added to her list, crossed off what she’d done, then walked out to the kitchen.

“I got sticky buns from next door.” Carolee offered a slightly shamed smile. “I just wanted to do something.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Then I thought I’m not sure sticky buns were the right thing to do.”

“They always are.” Understanding, Hope put an arm around Carolee’s shoulders.

“Will this change things, you think? I know it’s selfish, but I don’t want things to change. I love everything about this place, including Lizzy. I know, some part of me knows, what we’re doing is important. Important things so often make change.”

“I wish I knew.”

“I guess we’ll all know soon enough. I left The Lobby door unlocked,” she said when they heard it open. “I thought that would be easier all around.”

Clare and Avery came in together. “Sticky buns,” Avery said. “I just said to Clare we should go over to Icing and get something. You thought of it first.”

“Food’s comfort.” Clare rubbed a gentle hand on her belly. “I fixed Beckett and the boys cheesy eggs this morning. I just needed to do something. Beckett left early, to try to get some work in.”

“Owen, too.”

“That makes all three of them,” Hope said. “There’s Justine and Willy B. Right on time.”

“Nervous?” Clare linked hands with Hope.

“Yeah. We did what she asked. Now we’ll tell her what we know. I should be excited, but . . .”

“It’s sad,” Avery said. “It’s not like we expected to find him alive and well and living in Vegas, but it’s sad.”

“Sticky buns,” Justine observed. “I made popovers.” She set the plate on the island. “I’ve been restless all morning, and baking helped some.”

“We won’t go hungry,” Avery decided. “We may lapse into a sugar coma, but I’ll risk it.”

“There’s iced tea, but I’ll make coffee.”

“I’ll do it.” Carolee patted Hope’s arm. “Let me take care of it.”

They came in together, the three brothers, in work clothes and rough boots. Hope caught the scents of wood and varnish and paint. For some reason, it relaxed her a little.

“So,” Owen began.

“I got something to say,” Ryder interrupted. “To her, I guess. To everybody. I had to get my head around it,” he added looking directly at Hope.

“Okay.” She nodded.

“I had a dream about him last night. Billy Ryder. And don’t give me any shit,” he warned his brothers.

“Nobody’s going to give you any shit,” Beckett told him.

He thought he might have given some out if the situation had been reversed. And appreciated the restraint. “It was really vivid. Like being there.”

“Being where?” Justine asked him.