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Ah. The three musketeers — Ruth, Bella, and Sunny Armstrong.

Sunny murmured something she couldn’t quite catch either. Dammit. She canted her head slightly.

One of them cleared a throat. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.” It was Bella. “I gave you the wrong impression.” A brief silence followed. “But when he and Nate spoke about a job…” Another pause. “Why else would a man move across the country if not for a woman?”

“People move for reasons that have nothing to do with love,” Sunny said.

“And he’s been so attentive to you and the kids since Harlan’s death.” Bella again. Followed by a loud huff. “What else were we supposed to think?” Her voice rose in pitch. “I mean … this is Clearbrook. We don’t see many grand gestures that aren’t tangled up in feelings. And you’re the only available woman he knows in this town.”

The sentence struck a nerve. She and Ronan knew each other.

Really knew each other.

“I’m not the only available woman in Clearbrook,” Ruth said.

“Who else is there?” Bella asked.

“What about that rumor that went around just after Harlan’s funeral?” Sunny said.

“What rumor?” Ruth asked.

“Someone saw him and Deputy Graham leave Fitzpatrick’s together the night of Harlan’s funeral.”

There was a pause. Even Felicity held her breath. She hadn’t known about the rumor.

Bella laughed. Loudly. “No. Not Deputy Delilah. Law’s too … decent for someone like her.” The women sniggered.

Felicity stared into her coffee, the surface trembling as her grip tightened. Something crumbled inside her. Just … gave way. She set the takeaway cup down carefully before she crushed the flimsy container.

“Look, I appreciated that he didn’t string me along,” Ruth said. “He was very clear. And kind. There was nothing messy about it.”

“How did it make you feel?” Sunny’s voice drifted in, calm, measured.

There was a longer pause this time.

“I don’t know,” Ruth admitted. “Maybe I allowed myself to … dream of … something good. There’s nothing complicated about Ronan Murphy. No hidden agenda. He’s a solid man, through and through. And Davey and Micks adore him.”

Felicity’s jaw set.

Solid.

Not volatile. Not complicated. Not soiled.

But solid

“He told me he still wants to be around the kids. Games. Recitals. Just … without expectations.” Ruth said.

“That’s … good. Right?” It was Sunny. “He’s exactly what your kids need after all the drama. Even if it is as a favorite uncle.”

“I guess.” A chair creaked. Another furtive glance showed Ruth sitting forward, hunching over the table. “Yes. You’re right. Their Uncle Law will be in their lives, and their needs are more important than mine.”

“You’re allowed to feel sad, Ruth.” Sunny, again. “Grieve the … maybe.”

“Let’s talk about something else. Okay?”

The conversation drifted then — kids, schedules, something about a bake sale — but Felicity barely registered it.

Why did the thought that he’d shut down a relationship with Ruth make her irrationally, inexplicably … happy?