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don’t want to go back to work at the fire station.”
    “Wow,” Amy murmured, all the more stunned.
    “And Mike mentioned that he heard Anita Garey needs a bartender at the Dew Drop. So I figure I’ll look into that—it’ll pay the bills for a while until I figure out my next step.”
    Amy simply gaped at him, mouth hanging open. Logan wanted to leave the DFD to serve drinks at the Dew Drop Inn? It made no sense.
    And she was sitting there trying to think of how to tell him how absolutely wrong for him this was—because she’d never been more sure of anything in her life—when a 1965 candy-apple red Mustang rolled into a parking spot across the town square from them, attracting their attention.
    “Don’t see many of those these days,” Logan said, clearly admiring the classic car. And Amy could understand why—even not being a big car person, this one drew the eye. And almost made you curious to find out who drove it.
    But she had to get back to business here, had to find a way to make Logan understand that he couldn’t give up his life’s work over one incident—no matter how deeply it had affected him.
    Yet then the car’s door slammed and Amy felt them both looking at the girl who’d just gotten out. Arrestingly beautiful, with long, dark, straight hair that hung to her waist and shone in the sun, she walked in their general direction, crossing over the square. And the closer she got, the more Amy was struck by the strange, gut-jarring sensation that she looked . . . exactly like a grown-up version of the long-missing Anna Romo.

Three
     
    “ . . . my astonishment is much beyond anything I can express . . .”
Jane Austen, from Emma
     
    A my just stared, blinked. And so did Logan.
    She knew it didn’t make any sense—it made no more sense to think this could possibly be Anna Romo than it made for Logan to announce he no longer intended to be a fireman. And yet her heart beat harder for an entirely different reason now. Well, more than one. Logan openly gaped at this gorgeous girl, clearly mesmerized. And the closer she got to them, the more Amy couldn’t stop feeling that strange pinch, the idea that maybe, just maybe . . .
    And, oh God, the girl even had the same mole near her mouth as Anna. She’d seen too many pictures of little Anna over the years to forget it, and now, there it was.
    The girl was tall and wore stylish platform wedges that only emphasized her lean, sexy body all the more. Skinny jeans and a bright red top that hugged her shape made Amy sizzle with something she seldom experienced: jealousy. And yet jealousy seemed no less than insane at this moment. Because what if . . . ? Could it possibly be?
    Both she and Logan stayed silent until the dark-haired girl sashayed past them, seeming as if she was headed toward town hall.
    And then, finally, the two of them turned to look at each other—and she knew she wasn’t crazy; she wasn’t the only one thinking what she was thinking. The same stunned look resided in Logan’s blue gaze and it was about more than how pretty the girl was.
    Amy watched him swallow visibly, his Adam’s apple shifting, before he quietly said, “Am I losing it, or did that girl look like . . .”
    All Amy could offer was a numb sort of nod. But then she found her voice to say, “Except . . . that can’t be, right? I mean, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t.”
    “Of course it couldn’t,” Logan said. Yet then he let out a breath and added, “Only . . . what if it is?”
    As they watched her get closer to the front doors of the town hall, Logan suddenly grabbed Amy’s hand, pulling them both to their feet, and began dragging her with him as he chased after the dark-haired girl. And she definitely liked having her hand in his, but somehow this wasn’t how she’d imagined it. The whole situation was beginning to feel surreal.
    “Excuse me,” Logan said to the girl when they caught up with her a few seconds later.
    And when she stopped