Whispers of Hollowbrooks

Adeline – One Week Later

Avoiding the new sheriff, the town's golden boy and protector, was harder than I thought. After our encounter at the diner, I figured Ethan would leave things alone, but he didn't. He'd stopped me again when I went into town to pick up supplies for the inn, determined to talk. And me? I was determined to dodge the inevitable conversation. Maybe he just wanted closure, to move on.

That's all I was, right? A mistake from ten years ago that he needed to correct? But my heart wasn't so logical. It longed for something more. Had he missed me? And if so, why hadn't he ever called or written back to any of my letters?

I sighed, shaking my head, and returned to setting up the fall decorations in the lobby. The inn, which had been my grandparents' pride and joy, always looked best in the fall. They loved this season, and I'd grown up surrounded by pumpkins, harvest wreaths, and cozy, warm colors. It felt like home.

I loved running this place, carrying on the legacy they left me. The inn had become my life when I took it over at 23, and every fall I made sure to recreate the festive charm my grandmother had been known for. Guests traveled from all over to stay at our cozy, historic inn during the Hollowbrook Fall Festival. Some came for the ghost stories, others for the warmth and comfort that came from a place so steeped in family tradition.

My favorite tradition was the pumpkin patch we hosted each year, though it was smaller than when my grandparents ran it. I kept the spirit alive with pumpkin carving contests, baking pies, and decorating the inn with autumnal touches that made the guests feel like they'd stepped into a fall wonderland.

But even with the pumpkin-themed excitement, my thoughts kept drifting back to Ethan. He wasn't the same boy I'd fallen for all those years ago—he was more guarded, darker. The war had changed him. The flirty banter and charm he used at the diner felt like a mask, but I could still see the pain in his eyes. He could hide it from most, but I had always been able to see through his act.

It hurt to admit that, after all these years, my heart still ached for him. I'd compared every man I'd dated to Ethan, and none had come close. The spark we'd shared all those years ago still burned somewhere deep inside me, no matter how much I tried to suppress it. But I couldn't let him ruin my favorite time of year. The inn, the fall festival, and my family's legacy mattered more than the unresolved feelings I carried for Ethan Brooks.

"Knock, knock," came a familiar voice from the side door that connected the inn to Sleepy Horse Bakery. Bonnie strolled in, carrying a tray of fresh pumpkin muffins. I grinned, knowing she was about to brighten my mood.

Bonnie had been one of my closest friends since she moved to Hollowbrook and opened the bakery next door. She was the definition of Southern charm, with her long black hair braided neatly and a floral apron over her pastel dress. She was one of the few people in town who knew about my history with Ethan, and she loved to tease me about it.

"I brought over some pumpkin muffins. Figured you'd need a pick-me-up," she said with a knowing smile, setting the tray down on the counter.

I sighed dramatically and sat at one of the tables by the inn's large windows. "You're a lifesaver, Bonnie. I should just marry you."

"Oh honey, as much as I'd love that, we both know your heart belongs to a certain sheriff," she teased, sitting across from me.

I groaned, rolling my eyes. "Not you too... I don't want him."

"Mhm, sure. So when Abby told me about your little diner date, you weren't drooling?" Bonnie raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this.

I shot her a look before grabbing a muffin and taking a bite. "It wasn't a date, Bonnie. He said hello, and that's it. I didn't drool."

She wasn't buying it. "Addy, have you ever thought that maybe you two need to talk about what happened?"

"God, no," I replied quickly, my stomach twisting at the thought. "He acts like that night didn't happen. I've spent ten years burying my feelings, and I'm not about to dig them up just because he's back."

Bonnie gave me a sympathetic look. She and Abby were the only ones who knew the full story of what had happened between Ethan and me. She'd always respected my boundaries, but she knew when to push, too.

"You were both young, Addy. You'd just lost Steven, and Ethan was in a dark place. Maybe if you both apologized, you could move on and be friends."

I chewed on my bottom lip, staring out at the changing leaves and people walking down the street, laughing as they passed. She was right, of course. I'd been 21, heartbroken and naïve. Ethan had been 25, trying to find his way out of the shadows he couldn't escape. I'd held a grudge for long enough.

"I don't hate him," I admitted quietly. "But I wish he'd written back. I sent him letters, Bonnie. He didn't even look for me when he came home. After a while, I gave up."

Bonnie's expression softened. "Maybe it's time to stop waiting for him to make the first move. You'll never get closure if you keep running."

I sighed. She was right again, but how could I make the first move when I'd been avoiding him for a week?

"Bonnie, can you do me a favor?" I asked, an idea forming.

She grinned. "Of course, sugar. What are you scheming?"

Ethan

"You're telling me that's what the witness said?" I asked, rubbing my hand over my face, trying to wrap my head around it.

"Yes, sir. He swears it. No drugs, no alcohol—just a terrified witness," Officer Christopher confirmed, his face pale.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. The last thing I needed in my first month as sheriff was a local legend getting out of hand. Two unexplained deaths in a week was already bad enough, but now people were talking about the Headless Horseman.

"Alright, let me know as soon as the coroner finishes the autopsy," I said, dismissing him.

"You got it, Sheriff. And, uh... sir? You don't actually believe the myth, do you?"

I shook my head, trying to keep my frustration in check. "No. It's probably a prank gone wrong. We'll figure it out."

Once Christopher left, I gathered the case files and headed out. It had been a long day, and all I wanted was a quiet night at home, maybe a beer. As I opened the office door, I collided with someone—soft, warm, and smelling like pumpkin and vanilla.

"Oh, Ethan!" Adeline's hazel eyes stared up at me, her surprise mirroring mine.

Just hearing her say my name sent a jolt through me. I took a steadying breath, trying to calm myself. She looked incredible in a flowing black skirt and an orange sweater, her wild curls framing her face. The familiar tug of desire flared in my chest.

"What can I do for you, Crane?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe, trying to play it cool.

She blinked, her expression shifting to one of irritation. "Well, since I'm at your place of work, I figured you had something to say. Or are you done avoiding me?"

Her tone caught me off guard, and I smirked, crossing my arms. "Avoiding you? If anything, you've been avoiding me all week."

She narrowed her eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Maybe. But I came here for a reason."

"And what would that be?" I frowned, curious about where this was going.

"A truce," she said, extending her hand toward me.

"A truce?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. We've both changed, and the past is the past. Let's be friends," she offered with a smile, her hand still outstretched.

I stared at her hand for a moment, then back into her eyes. Did she want to be friends? After everything? I groaned internally. Part of me wanted to say no, to walk away. But another part of me—maybe the bigger part—couldn't resist her. Not after all this time.

Adeline Crane was still mine, even if she didn't know it yet.