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and got ready, throwing on his clothes before making his way downstairs. Ambrose was in the kitchen making breakfast.
    “Good morning, Ambrose,” he said.
    “Call me Rosie. Everyone around here does.”
    “Sure. Can I help with anything?”
    “Nope, you’re the guest. Have a seat. Can I get you some coffee or juice?”
    It was highly unlikely Rosie would be able to whip him up a no-foam, triple shot, vanilla latté with a caramel drizzle, and for once, West didn’t feel like he needed the caffeine to get through the day. “Juice would be great if you’ve got it.”
    “Of course. Orange or cranberry?”
    “Orange, please.” West could see through the doorway that there was a formal dining room directly adjacent to the kitchen. Instead he sat down at the small table in the kitchen. Rosie poured him a large glass of juice and set it down in front of him.
    “Breakfast should only be another couple of minutes.”
    “Thank you. It smells amazing.”
    “I hope so. I was getting complaints from some of the guests, so I took some culinary classes in Redding a few months back. Apparently people didn’t enjoy burned toast and weak coffee for breakfast.”
    “Isn’t that a long drive for a class?”
    “Says the man who drove here from Chicago.”
    West laughed. “Point taken. In any case it’s better than I could manage.”
    “Ah, so your offer to help this morning was only for show, then?”
    “No, but I would have eaten whatever I burned.”
    “Not a whiz in the kitchen?”
    “To be honest, I don’t really know. I haven’t had much of a chance to cook in recent years. These days it’s mostly takeout. The only home-cooked meals I get are from my secretary, who takes pity on me every once in a while and brings me something in Tupperware to reheat when I get home.”
    Rosie’s expression was somber. “That sounds a little sad, actually. You don’t have a wife? Family?”
    “No, it’s just me. My grandfather died a few years ago. He was the only family I had left.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “It’s okay,” West lied. “It was a long time ago. It’s why I’m here, actually. I’m driving to Eureka today to scatter his ashes in the ocean. He was in the Navy. He would have wanted to be taken back to sea.” It was a good reminder of why he’d traveled all those miles. He had no idea why he chose to spill all the details of his life to this woman. But he liked Canyon Creek and he liked Rosie. He’d momentarily forgotten he was on a mission to lay his grandfather to rest.
    “That’s really nice of you.”
    Rosie served up breakfast, and the conversation drifted to lighter topics. The food was good, the company better, and West ate slowly, delaying his leaving. He couldn’t put a name on the reason for his sudden urge to dawdle, other than that this was the best breakfast meeting he ever had.
    Before long it was time for him to hit the road. He’d dragged his feet long enough. He packed up his things, thanked Rosie for breakfast and for her hospitality, made sure to leave her a large tip on top of what he owed her for the room, then said good-bye and was on his way.
     
     
    HE MADE it nearly to the edge of town. The city limits were within his sightline, and for some reason West felt as though he had forgotten something. There was a strange sort of tugging at his insides. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the feeling, but it took root, winding its way through his chest and settling in deep. He slowed his car and pulled over on the shoulder of the highway that ran through town.
    He was being ridiculous. There was no reason for him to stay. He had a job to do, and then he needed to go home and take his place at the head of his company once more. Strangely, he hadn’t given work a single thought since he drove into Canyon Creek, and thinking about it now only made his head ache. He took a deep breath and leaned back, closing his eyes and trying to clear his mind. It felt like one of the stress