The Wayward Sister (The Wayward Sons 5)

“Know any of these people?” I ask the clerk. She’s an older woman with curly hair and thick glasses.

“Most of them.” She picks up one. “Reid works here. He’s pretty good.”

I take the card.

“Thanks.”

I wait for her to ring me up, and the clerk looks over my shoulder. “Oh, there he is. Reid, this lady is looking for a handyman.”

I turn and see a man a few years older than me. His hair is tied back in a ponytail and he’s in a T-shirt with the name of the store across his chest. Mammoth Lakes Hardware. I recognize him immediately.

“I think we went to high school together,” I say.

He looks me up and down. “You sure? I think I’d remember you.”

My cheeks heat. Reid Langford was a legend. Kind of a trouble maker. All the girls had a crush on him. “You were older than me. Sierra Falco.”

I offer my hand. We shake and he asks, “Well, Sierra Falco, what kind of work are you looking for?”

“I’m getting my house ready to sell. I just have a few upgrades and repairs to make.” I’m not really ready to make a decision on anything yet. It’s all moving so fast. “I’m trying to do what I can on my own.”

“I’m happy to come out and take a look at it, give you an estimate.”

“Sure,” I say. “Can I give you a call this week?”

“Sounds good.” He smiles a bit too wide. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

A customer walks up and asks Reid for help. He wanders off, talking about screw size. I grab my items off the counter and head out the door. Maybe finding help for the house won’t be so bad. My spirits lift, things feeling less insurmountable, and I place my bags in the car. That’s when I

see the produce stand. California summer fruit is one of the best things about living in this area. I walk over and inspect the baskets of early summer fruit. If there’s one thing I learned raising four boys and running a coffee shop…

They love pie.

I nod to the woman behind the table and point to the baskets of berries. “I’ll take three,” I say, pulling out my wallet. I think I know how to pay off my debt to Adrian, after all.

The warm scent of sugar and baked fruit wafts from my window, catching the guard’s attention. He’s older, with both gray hair and a beard.

“Smells delicious. You sure you don’t want me to just give that to Adrian?” he asks. “I promise to get it to them intact.” He adds a wink.

“I think I should probably hand deliver it.”

“I think you’re probably correct.”

I’d already explained who I was and who I was looking for. He speaks into his walkie-talkie, and then gives me directions that should take me to Adrian. I take a turn off the main road and up a long, winding side street with signs that declare, “Do Not Enter. Parks Department Only.”

At the end of the road is a building made of wood planks—dark red and sturdy. The cabin has a wide front porch. The guy at the front gate told me this is where I’d find Adrian.

Two white trucks sit in the parking lot, both with parks department logos on the side. I grab the pie, still warm from the oven, and walk up the steps.

The door opens before I make it all the way to the porch.

Adrian Brooks waits in the doorway with a curious smile on his face.

“Didn’t expect to see you again,” he says, as he leans his body against the doorframe. His arms cross over his chest, and I can’t help but see the line of muscle that lines his forearm.

“I made you a pie.” I hold it out to him. “As a thank you.”

He looks between my face and the pie. “It’s my job, Sierra, no need for a thank you.” He reaches for the pie and inhales. “But I’m not saying no to this. It smells amazing.” He steps back. “Do you want to come in?”