CHAPTER NINE — Shadows Beneath the Surface
The morning sun had barely climbed above the rooftops of Willow Creek when Elena stepped outside the café, her breath forming a faint cloud in the crisp air. It was one of those mornings that felt too still, too quiet, as if the world was pausing before something happened. She didn't want to admit that she sensed it too. The strange heaviness she had felt since waking hadn't lifted.
She crossed her arms against the breeze and watched Caleb from a distance. He was helping the road crew remove the last of the fallen branches from the storm. It should have been a simple sight, ordinary even. Yet something about the way he moved, so focused and steady, made her chest tighten.
She had heard his story. She had felt it settle into her bones, a mirror to her own grief. And though she didn't want to acknowledge it, the weight of his confession had bonded them in a way she wasn't prepared for.
Elena forced herself to turn away. She had shelves to stock, windows to wash, customers to serve. She didn't need to stand there and let her heart wander where it shouldn't.
Inside the café, she wiped down the counter for the third time, though it didn't need cleaning. Her thoughts were restless, drifting back to his voice, his eyes, the way he had trusted her with something he rarely spoke of.
Why me? she wondered.
She was still lost in thought when the door opened and a familiar figure stepped in. Claire Sanderson, the local librarian and one of Elena's closest friends, walked toward her with a determined expression.
"We need to talk," Claire said, setting her purse on a chair.
Elena blinked. "About what?"
"You look like your mind is somewhere else. Somewhere very… complicated."
Elena sighed. "It's nothing."
Claire raised an eyebrow. "Nothing usually looks less like someone trying not to think about a certain man who works with his hands, broods quietly, and has the emotional depth of a tragic novel."
Elena groaned softly, leaning against the counter. "You're impossible."
"And you're terrible at hiding things." Claire's voice gentled. "Elena, you can talk to me."
Elena hesitated before speaking. "Caleb… opened up to me yesterday."
Claire's expression shifted immediately. "About what?"
"His wife. Her death." The words felt fragile in her mouth.
Claire's eyes softened. "So he trusts you."
"I don't know if it means that."
"It does." Claire placed her hand on Elena's. "People who carry grief like that don't just open up to anyone."
Elena swallowed. "Claire, I don't know what to do. It feels like standing on the edge of something I'm not ready to fall into."
"You're not falling," Claire said gently. "You're waking up."
The words struck her harder than she expected.
Before Elena could respond, the café door opened again. Caleb stepped inside, wiping his hands on a cloth, his hair slightly tousled from the wind. When he saw her, his expression softened just enough to send her heart tumbling into her stomach.
"Morning," he said, and Elena hated how her pulse jumped at the sound.
"Morning," she replied, trying to maintain the composure she felt slipping.
Claire looked between them, a silent smile growing. "I'll be going now," she said as she grabbed her purse. "I suddenly have errands that absolutely cannot wait."
"Claire," Elena hissed under her breath, but her friend only winked and left.
Caleb stepped closer, his voice held low and hesitant. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything."
"Just conversation," Elena said lightly.
He nodded and glanced toward the street. "The road is clear now. The storm damage wasn't as bad as we thought."
"That's good."
Silence settled again, but it felt different this time. He shifted his weight slightly, as if contemplating something.
"Elena," he said finally, "I want to say thank you. For yesterday."
"You don't have to."
"I do." He met her eyes. "It meant more than I can explain."
She felt her breath catch. The way he looked at her made her feel seen, and that frightened her more than anything else.
Before she could answer, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed outside. A moment later, Ben Turner appeared in the doorway. Ben was known in town for stirring trouble just to taste the reaction.
He smirked when he saw Caleb.
"Well," Ben said, crossing his arms, "it seems like our new outsider is settling in real nice. Helping himself with more than just work, I see."
Elena stiffened instantly.
Caleb's expression didn't change, but something sharp flickered in his eyes. "Can I help you with something?"
Ben shrugged. "Just making an observation. Folks around here don't like strangers getting too comfortable."
Elena stepped forward, her voice steady. "Ben, enough."
Ben ignored her. "You know nothing about this place, or the people in it. Might be smart to keep your distance before someone reminds you of that."
Something dark and dangerous sparked in Caleb's expression, but he kept his voice calm. "If you have something to say, say it."
Ben leaned forward. "I don't trust you."
Elena's heart pounded in her chest. The room felt thick with tension.
Caleb took a single step toward Ben. "Then keep your distance."
Ben opened his mouth to retort, but the door behind him swung open, and Mrs. Turner marched inside with an expression that could freeze fire.
"Ben Turner, if you don't get out of this café right now, I'm telling your mother you've started trouble again," she snapped.
Ben's bravado dissolved instantly. He muttered something and backed out the door as Mrs. Turner shooed him like a misbehaving child.
When the door closed, Elena exhaled shakily.
Caleb looked toward her, worry etched in his expression. "Are you alright?"
She nodded, though her heart was racing. "He just… likes being difficult."
"He shouldn't talk to you like that."
"He talks to everyone like that."
Caleb's jaw tightened. "He won't talk to you that way again."
The protectiveness in his voice sent a shiver through her. She didn't know how to respond, and didn't trust her voice enough to speak.
Caleb took a breath, as if steadying himself. "There's something I want to tell you," he said quietly. "Something I haven't said out loud since Emily died."
Elena felt her pulse quicken. "What is it?"
Caleb's gaze held hers, steady and unflinching.
"I'm afraid," he whispered. "Afraid of what I'm starting to feel again. Afraid of letting someone close. Afraid of losing more than I already have."
Her breath caught.
Because she felt the same.
"Elena," he said softly, "I can't deny it anymore. Being around you… scares me. But not in a bad way. In a way that feels like my heart is waking up."
Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might break through her chest.
She opened her mouth to speak, but a voice from outside called Caleb's name. He turned reluctantly, the moment slipping away in the space of a heartbeat.
"I have to go," he said, his voice tight. "But… we'll finish this."
He stepped outside, leaving Elena trembling.
And though she tried to calm her racing pulse, one truth became impossible to ignore.
She was falling.
And as she watched him disappear down the street, a chill crept through her.
Something was coming. Something she could feel but not yet see.
And it would change everything.