Heck, he hadn’t even known she was from here, but maybe it was fate that brought him back. Maybe he was supposed to know her and make things right with her. Because God knew he didn’t need this apartment complex the bank was auctioning in the morning.

His usual investments were still structurally sound and in a good part of town. This complex was on the wrong side of the tracks, anchoring Farrell and Chance Avenues, two streets that no one chose to live on if they could live somewhere else.

Rory made an espresso in the kitchen and then opened his laptop to review the details of the apartment complex. It had been vacant for over two years now. From the photos, it looked fairly decrepit. Local kids had done a good job vandalizing it.

He didn’t want it.

He didn’t.

He didn’t even know why he’d driven all this way from his ranch in Wyoming to look at it. It was a waste of time and energy—

But maybe he did know.

Rory closed the computer.

Maybe the apartment complex was the tool... the opportunity.

If he hadn’t come for the auction this weekend... if he hadn’t booked the rental house... he wouldn’t have found Sadie.

If he hadn’t come, he’d be looking up the definition of desire again and wondering why he couldn’t forget her. Desire. Want. Wish. Crave.

No longer interested in crunching numbers again, or playing out the different scenarios for purchasing and renovating the building, he showered and dressed and headed to his truck, his cane essential in the icy morning.

After clearing the snow off the windshield, he drove the four short blocks to Main Street, parking on the virtually deserted street. It was only seven, and all the stores were closed, with only the bakeries, diner, and Java Café open on a Saturday morning.

With two hours to kill before the auction, Rory parked in front of Java Café. The café was as quiet as the street and the tall, lean teenager working the counter gave him a nod but didn’t try to engage in small talk after taking Rory’s order.

Rory was glad for the lack of chitchat. Driving down Main Street stirred a lifetime of memories, more parts bitter than sweet. It wasn’t Marietta’s fault that he didn’t like coming home. The town and people had been nothing but good to him, embracing him and his sister and brother, but the sheer amount of love the folks showed the surviving Douglas kids, undid him.

Rory was at his best when he didn’t feel. He preferred to be analytical, not emotional. And Marietta always made him emotional. It was why there were three things he avoided—

Christmas.

Marietta.

And Marietta during Christmas.

He wouldn’t be here this weekend, either, if it hadn’t been for the auction.

A young couple with a baby entered the café, and Rory turned away from the counter to face the Christmas tree in the corner. Paper ornaments covered the tree. On the back of each paper ornament was a carefully handwritten tag. Rory flipped the tags on the ornaments closest to him:

Boy 8 years old, love sports, a football would be a perfect gift.

Girl 12, loves to read, a gift card to the local bookstore would be ideal.

Boy 6, loves Lego and Star Wars and is hoping for a Lego Star Wars this Christmas.

Girl 16, just had her ears pierced and would love a jewelry box of her own.

Rory faced the counter again, stomach knotting. All those kids, with all those needs. They weren’t even dreams, but ordinary wants and hopes, and it made him uncomfortable.

Everything about this town made him uncomfortable.

He hadn’t always dreaded Christmas. Growing up, he’d loved the holidays, and enjoyed the Christmas traditions from ice skating at Miracle Lake, to caroling with his church youth group, to the annual Marietta Stroll. The Stroll was one thing his family did together, and it was a big deal to come to town and splurge on a rare dinner out.

Although his dad was a rancher, they weren’t one of the big, successful ranches in Paradise Valley.