“No one.” Tripp paused. “Yet.”

  “What do you hope to gain from this, Tripp? You think you’re finally going to win her by spilling the one secret she’s desperate to keep?”

  He shrugged. “Not sure I want her anymore now that I know she’s damaged goods.”

  “Don’t you dare —” Chad took a menacing step towards Tripp, then stopped himself when some of the older members drifted out the door to their trucks.

  “You’d be smarter to worry less about me and more about yourself,” Tripp continued. “All along you’ve been pitching that we start adding eco-friendly, sustainable ranching initiatives. How would it look to the board members if they find out you’re sleeping with someone who was involved with one of the worst domestic environmental disasters of the decade?” Tripp paused and let his words sink in.

  “You would do that? You would actually sink that low?”

  “I would … unless you do it first.”

  “I’d never—” Chad started to say, but Tripp cut him off.

  “Look at it like this,” he said. “If you tell the board members yourself, you might be able to spin it; say that you didn’t know, that you were tricked, and that you told them as soon as you found out. You’d save face and might even get their votes … if you’re willing to out ‘Hannah’ in the process and wreck her life in Kingsley. Or you can wait, wondering every day if this is the day that I spill the beans, making you look as guilty as possible and blowing your chances of that chairman position straight to hell. So what matters to you more? Your lying little sweetheart, or that chairman member position?”

  Chad recoiled, disgusted. “Why are you even doing this?” he demanded. “Do you really want to win the chair that badly?”

  “I don’t give a damn if I win,” Tripp spat out. “I just want you to lose. That’s my idea of victory.” And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

  Chad tried to figure out his next move as he walked back to his truck. He needed answers, directly from Hannah. He checked his phone. Almost ten, but he knew she’d still be up. Hell, he might find her sitting in her little closet office, coding the night away.

  His heart was heavy with the knowledge of what Hannah had hidden from him. As he pulled out of Saddle Joe’s parking lot, one word echoed in his head.

  Why?

  15

  “It’s late, you know,” Hannah said as she ushered Chad into her house and down the hall to the kitchen. She zipped up her hoodie so her thin tank top was covered up, like he was a repairman on a service call and she wanted to stay modest in front of him.

  “Yeah, sorry about the time. But we need to talk this out in person.”

  Hannah crossed her arms and stared at him without any of the warmth he’d gotten so accustomed to. Whatever had been on her mind at the picnic was clearly still bothering her, but now wasn’t the time for that. Not when Chad needed to know whether Tripp had told him the truth about her past.

  Chad took a deep breath and locked onto Hannah’s eyes. “Tell me about Amanda Hastings.”

  The color immediately drained from Hannah’s face. “What … how …”

  “Tripp found out.” Chad shook his head. “I remember the case—but I don’t remember your part in it. I need to hear it from you. I think I deserve to know the truth.”

  Tears filled her eyes and she bowed her head. Chad couldn’t tell if the tears were from shame about what she’d done or disappointment that he’d found out. When he heard her sniffling quietly, part of him wanted to run over and take her in his arms, but he refused to let himself. She’d hidden so much of herself from him. He couldn’t trust her anymore—couldn’t even be sure if her tears were genuine or just a ploy.

  Hannah looked up and caught him off guard with an expression that mixed anguish with fear.

  “I had to lie,” she said softly. “To try to put it all behind me. That woman … Amanda … she’s not me anymore.”

  Chad leaned back against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms. Until that moment, he hadn’t even realized that part of him had been hoping she’d deny it, say that it was just a coincidence that there was another woman out there with her face. But clearly that wasn’t going to happen. Hearing her say the name made it real. Made it her. Made everything they’d built together look fragile and false.

  “Please take a seat.” She sighed and gestured to the kitchen table as she sat down. “This is going to take a while.”

  He begrudgingly pulled out a chair and plopped into it, keeping his distance.

  After a few moments of silence, she began talking.

  “I joined Green Spaces when it was brand new. The founder—John—led a rally on my college campus when I was a senior, and I was hooked right away. I liked how positive and idealistic he was about trying to save the planet. I was getting my degree in marketing. As soon as I graduated, I went to work for Green Spaces. In the beginning it was just us, some brochures, and a card table. We were so broke, we were living in his van. But John was so charismatic, he could charm a dollar out of anyone for the cause.” Hannah shook her head and trailed off.

  “Wasn’t that part of what the criminal case was about, in addition to the poisoning?”

  Hannah flinched. “Yes. John was embezzling donations.” She leaned forward and stared into Chad’s eyes. “But I didn’t know a thing about that. I had no part of the money stuff, you have to believe me.”

  “If you say so.” Chad felt in his heart that Hannah wasn’t a thief, but he still wasn’t sure exactly what she was capable of.

  “Our relationship grew with the organization. John was always the ‘face’ of Green Spaces, but I was there at his side, handling the social media and communications. John’s background was in political science. He was all about crafting policy, reshaping the law—my job was to break it down into messages that people could understand and support.”

  “So that’s why you’re so good at it,” Chad said. “It was your actual job.”

  Hannah looked stricken. “It was. And occasional coding, which you saw me doing. That was mostly a side gig—something I used to keep us afloat when money was tight. I minored in computer science and had some college friends who’d throw the occasional job my way.”

  “Hm.”

  The more she said the less Chad liked what he was hearing. It sounded like she’d been in all of that Green Spaces mess up to her neck—a full partner in it along with her boyfriend. How much had she known? How much of the environmental disaster was she responsible for?

  She continued. “We were in love though we never married. Green Spaces was growing, becoming a major voice in the political landscape. The work was important, and it was making a difference, so when John and I started having problems—when his ego became an issue, along with his need for fame—I felt like I had to stick it out with him. For the good of Green Spaces, and for Aria’s sake, so she could have a father figure in her life.” Hannah’s voice went quiet. “Not that he was much of a dad. By the end, it felt like Green Spaces was the only thing we had in common anymore—and even that thread was fraying. We’d stopped discussing decisions. He’d just tell me what he’d decided and leave it to me to spin it. He didn’t like it when I asked questions … not about how he handled the protests he organized, or what he was doing with the donations—or why he kept having closed door, one-on-one meetings with all of the young, pretty interns.”

  Chad didn’t say a word. He wanted to let Hannah talk, but he also wanted her to stop telling him things he didn’t want to hear.

  “I’ll skip all of the lead-up and get to the part you want to hear about. My involvement in … what happened.” She took a deep breath as if she were summoning up courage to reveal what she’d been hiding for so long. “The river stunt was supposed to be a huge, splashy wake-up call to everyone about what the factory was going to do to the landscape and habitat around it. It was bigger than anything we’d ever done before, because John wanted as much media attention as he could get. In a way he was right … forcing eyes on the situation was a good way to press pause on the factory. Hannah shook her head and smirked. “John had even planned to wade into the river shirtless so that his skin would turn green, and then I was going to post photos.”

  “He was going to wade into toxic water?” Chad asked, skepticism coloring his tone.

  “It wasn’t supposed to be toxic,” Hannah insisted. “I bought the dye. I’m the one who researched it. It’s a food-grade colorant, and it’s perfectly safe in the right concentrations. John insisted on mixing it himself. When we got to the river that day and I saw the color of the mixture in the buckets, I realized the concentration was way too high. I begged him to stop, told him that it could be disastrous. He was furious that I’d question him in front of everyone there, and he reamed me out for it—very publicly. It was the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to me up to that point … but it’s probably what kept me out of jail.”

  “You faced charges, too?”

  “Initially, yes. John tried to claim that I was the mastermind behind the whole thing since my name was on all of the purchasing paperwork. But there were plenty of witnesses willing to testify that I’d tried to tell John about the concentration, and that he’d refused to listen. I still faced some minor charges, but the authorities were willing to drop them and let me walk away if I testified against John and handed over all of John’s files. John had a laptop that I wasn’t ever allowed to use—but I knew where he kept it hidden. I turned it over and took the stand.”

  “The media said—” Chad started, and Hannah flinched.

  “Yes,” she spit out, “I remember what the media said. I remember all of it—all the interviews John’s lawyer gave, trying to paint me as some kind of vengeful ex, out to ruin him because I’d found out he was sleeping around with the interns. I was the star witness, so they wanted to discredit me. It didn’t work—or at least, it didn’t convince the jury, but it did mean that my professional reputation was completely trashed. Environmental activism was the only job I’d ever had—I didn’t know how to do anything else, but there wasn’t a single nonprofit out there that would hire me to sweep their floors, much less handle their communications. I needed a new career and a new start, for me and for my daughter.”

  She let out a shuddering sigh and crossed her arms tightly around her body.

  “I’m sorry you went through that.” Chad wasn’t going to deny her a little sympathy for what she’d endured.

  “Thanks.” Hannah finally lifted her eyes to meet his. “Do you hate me now?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t. But the fact is, I don’t trust you either. You kept a lot hidden from me. I feel like I don’t know you anymore. Were you ever going to tell me?” From the way she avoided eye contact, he was pretty sure that the answer was no. “So instead, I had to find out from Tripp—who used the information to blackmail me.”

  “Blackmail you?” Hannah repeated. “What did he say?”

  When Chad explained Tripp’s threat, Hannah went pale. “So …” she said hesitantly. “Are you going to tell the board members?”

  Chad felt a rush of disgust that she’d believe he was capable of that. Everything between the two of them had started because he’d wanted to protect her from Tripp. Did she really think he’d throw her to the wolves now, just to protect himself? That clinched his certainty that he didn’t know her—and she definitely didn’t know him. Their relationship really had been fake all along. He was a fool to have ever believed otherwise.

  “No,” he said, his voice hard and clipped. “I’m not.”

  “But Tripp—” she protested.

  “I can’t control Hamilton’s actions,” Chad stated, as calmly as he could manage. “I can only control mine.”

  She sighed, curling in on herself a little. “It’s all going to come out, isn’t it?”

  He didn’t want to hurt her, but there had been too many lies between them already. “Yeah, probably,” he admitted.

  “Maybe I should just—leave Kingsley.” Hannah’s voice broke as she said it, and Chad expected tears to follow. But Hannah seemed emotionless as she stared across the room.

  He wanted to ask if it would really be that easy for her, to leave it all behind. Leave the friends she’d found in Noelle and Matilda, leave the acceptance she’d found at Magpie. Leave the ties Aria had made. Leave him. But the bigger part of him didn’t want to hear her answer.

  “Maybe that would be for the best,” Chad said.

  16

  Even though Hannah had always loved the early morning set-up rituals at Magpie, it was hard to stay focused on the routines at the bakery. When she wiped down the tables, she imagined Chad sitting at them. When she cleaned the front windows, she remembered Chad standing out front, protecting her from Tripp. His presence was everywhere. But now it was tainted by how things had ended between them. He’d seemed so cold, so distant. She’d seen that before, in all the friends she had thought she could count on—right up until they said it would hurt their reputations to be seen with her. Chad had seemed so angry that she hadn’t trusted him, but he didn’t know how badly she’d been let down by the people she’d trusted in the past.

  And now, she might have to go through the same thing again, if … no, when Tripp got tired of his little mind games and started telling everyone what he knew. Leaving before that could happen sounded better, and yet her heart ached when she imagined packing up and starting over again. Trying to find a new home where she and Aria could forget the past and could make a life again. The fact was, she loved everything about Kingsley. The landscape, the community … and yes, the whole Radford clan.

  Noelle came bursting through the swinging kitchen door carrying a tray of warm sticky buns, right on time. They’d be unlocking the door in fifteen minutes, and the hungry breakfast crowd would be salivating for them. Noelle been overly cheerful since they’d both arrived, and Hannah had a feeling she knew why.

  “And there we have it,” Noelle said, brushing her hands down the front of her apron. “All set up, early! We’ve got this down to a science, girl. You’re such a great fit here. We missed you yesterday, but you deserve a day off now and then.”

  She gave Hannah a questioning look and paused. Yes, there was no doubt that Noelle knew something was up, but she wasn’t about to be the first one to broach it.

  Hannah realized that it was time to come clean—at least about what had happened with Chad, and the decision they’d come to. She wasn’t about to fill in any of her backstory, and Chad had sworn he wouldn’t either. But she owed it to Noelle to give her notice, so she could find someone else to take her place once she’d left town.

  “About that …” Hannah began slowly. “Can we talk for a few minutes? Before you open for the day?”

  Noelle frowned and came out from behind the counter. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that. What the heck is going on with you and Chad?”

  “Oh, a lot,” Hannah replied with a wan smile.

  “Yeah, he sketched out the basics of what happened. But you know guys, they leave out all of the important stuff. All he said is that your arrangement is over. Based on the way he’s been moping around, it didn’t end well.” Noelle gestured to a nearby table. “Let’s sit and you can fill me in.”

  She and Chad hadn’t come up with a story about why they’d parted, so Hannah kept it vague. “I think I was pushing him too hard to step outside of his comfort zone, and he felt like he could handle the rest of the campaign on his own. But I hope he knows that I was giving the campaign my all because I wanted the community to see him the way I did. How incredible he is. Brilliant, caring, creative …” she drifted off, feeling like she’d said too much.

  Noelle furrowed her brow. “Well, that doesn’t make much sense to me. Chad wanted you to push him out of his comfort zone with the campaign. To help people to get to know the real Chad, not the playboy everyone always expected him to be. That was the whole reason you two were, uh, working together.” She paused. “Was it his idea to end it?”

  Hannah shook her head quickly. She didn’t want Chad to take the blame. “No, no, not at all. I could tell I was coming on too strong for his liking, so I suggested we call it quits. He agreed.”

  “I don’t get it,” Noelle said slowly. “It seemed like everything was working so well. Your posts are amazing.”

  “Thanks,” Hannah replied. “I put my heart and soul into them. To tell you the truth, I think I gave more to Chad’s campaign than to anything I’ve ever worked on. I made myself a part of his story, which isn’t something I’m totally comfortable with, to be honest.”

  “Why not?” Noelle rarely minced words.

  Hannah’s face went hot, and she stammered as she scrambled for a suitable explanation. “I’m, uh, I’m a private person, I guess. I’d rather create the posts than be in them.”

  Noelle narrowed her eyes at Hannah, already thinking through her next objection over the breakup. “But what about Tripp? Chad owes you a debt too for everything you did for him. Won’t ending things between you put you back in his crosshairs?”

  Her heart fell out of rhythm at the thought of what Tripp was now holding over her head, and the damage he could do with it. If she wanted to retain a shred of dignity, she needed to get the hell out of Kingsley, and fast.

  “He’s not going to be a factor any longer because of the other thing I wanted to talk to you about.” Hannah took a deep breath. “I think it’s time for Aria and me to move on. We’re wanderers, so it’s our nature.” She lied to make it sound less strange. Hopefully it would be believable, since they hadn’t been in Kingsley very long.

  She could only hope that would make it hurt less.

  “No!” Noelle exclaimed. “You can’t leave, everybody here loves you two!”

  Hannah looked down and bit the inside of her cheek to stop the tears from flowing. “That’s so sweet of you to say. We love it too, but we’re ready for our next adventure.” She tried to make it sound happy, like it was good news she was celebrating instead of something that was tearing her apart.