All For You: Halfway There\Buckhorn Ever After\The One You Want\One Perfect Night
Author: Susan Mallery
Date: 2014-12-30 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Romance; Anthologies; Contemporary Romance; Contemporary; Short Stories; Adult Fiction; harlequin; Novella
Description: Four unforgettable stories from the biggest names in romance… Falling in love isn't on Fayrene Hopkins's schedule for at least four years, but from her very first kiss with charming Ryan Patterson, she's already Halfway There. In Susan Mallery's Fool's Gold, some plans are made to be broken…. In Lori Foster's Buckhorn Ever After, the last thing Nadine Moest wants is to be the latest notch on gorgeous ranger Shohn Hudson's bedpost. But Shohn is determined to win her trust�and her heart. Kenna Starr will do anything to overcome her bad-girl past in Gena Showalter's The One You Want. Dane Michael
Publisher: HQN Books
Rights: Copyright © 2014 by Harlequin Books S.A.

Return to where it all began—the romance, the friendships, the community, the warmth and laughter of Susan Mallery’s New York Times bestselling series Fool’s Gold.

Nestled in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains, Fool’s Gold, California, is a charming town like no other, where newcomers and locals alike find endless—if unconventional—opportunities to fall in love.

From Charity Jones, a city planner hired to create jobs that will keep the town’s men from moving away, to Liz Sutton, still trying to shed the stigma of being the girl from the wrong side of the tracks, and Pia O’Brian who, despite having a disastrous romantic track record and the parenting skills of a hamster, has inherited three frozen embryos, Fool’s Gold is overflowing with quirky characters, passionate moments and heartfelt emotion.

Offered here for the first time in collection form, the first Fool’s Gold trilogy—plus the bonus novella Sister of the Bride—is the perfect opportunity to discover some new, lifelong friends.

Susan Mallery’s Fool’s Gold Collection, Volume One
Chasing Perfect
Almost Perfect
Sister of the Bride
Finding Perfect

Susan Mallery Fool’s Gold Series Volume One

Chasing Perfect

Almost Perfect

Sister of the Bride

Finding Perfect

Susan Mallery

Table of Contents

Chasing Perfect

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Almost Perfect

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Sister of the Bride

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Finding Perfect

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

CHASING PERFECT

SUSAN MALLERY

CHAPTER ONE

CHARITY JONES LOVED a good disaster movie as much as the next person—she would simply prefer the disaster in question not be about her life.

The sharp crack of an electrical short, followed by a burning smell, filled the conference room on the third floor of City Hall. A thin wisp of smoke rose from her laptop, ending any hope of her PowerPoint presentation going smoothly. The presentation she’d stayed up nearly all night perfecting.

It was her first day on the job, she thought, breathing deeply to ward off panic. The first official hour of her first official day. Didn’t she get at least a sixteenth of a break? Some small sign of mercy from the universe?

Apparently not.

She glanced from her still smoldering computer to the ten-member board from California University, Fool’s Gold campus, and they did not look happy. Part of the reason was that they’d been working with the previous city planner for nearly a year and still hadn’t come up with a contract for the new research facility. A contract she was now responsible for bringing to life. She would guess the unpleasant burny smell was the other reason they were shifting in their seats.

“Perhaps we should reschedule the meeting,” Mr. Berman said. He was tall, with graying hair and glasses. “When you’re more—” he motioned to the smoldering computer “—prepared.”

Charity smiled warmly when what she really wanted to do was throw something. She was prepared. She’d been on the job all of—she glanced at the clock on the wall—eight minutes, but she’d been prepping since she accepted the position as city planner nearly two weeks ago. She understood what the university wanted and what the town had to offer. She might be new, but she was still damned good at her job.

Her boss, the mayor, had warned her about this group and had offered to put off the meeting, but Charity had wanted to prove herself. Something she refused to let be a mistake.

“We’re all here,” she said, still smiling as confidently as possible. “We can do this the old-fashioned way.”

She unplugged her computer and took it out into the hall where it would no doubt stink up the rest of the building, but her first priority had to be the meeting. She was determined to start her new job with a win and that meant getting California University at Fool’s Gold to sign on the bottom line.

When she stepped back into the conference room, she walked over to the dry erase board and picked up a thick blue pen from the small rack attached to the board.

“The way I see it,” she began, writing the number one and circling it, “there are three sticking points. First, the length of the lease.” She wrote a number two, “Second, the reversion of improvements on the land. Namely the building itself. And three, the freeway off-ramp signal.” She turned back to the ten well-dressed people watching her. “Do you agree?”

They all looked to Mr. Berman, who nodded slowly.

“Good.” Charity had reviewed all the notes on the previous meetings and talked to the mayor of Fool’s Gold over the weekend. What Charity couldn’t figure out was why the negotiating process was taking so long. Apparently the previous city planner had wanted to be right more than he wanted the research facility in town. But Mayor Marsha Tilson had been very clear when she’d offered Charity the job—bring businesses to Fool’s Gold, and fast.

“Here’s what I’m prepared to offer,” she said, making a second column. She went through all three problems and listed solutions, including an extra five seconds of left-turn time on the signal at the top of the off-ramp.

The board members listened and when she was done, they once again looked at Mr. Berman.

“That does sound good,” he began.

Sound good? It was better than good. It was a once-in-a-lifetime deal. It was everything the university had asked for. It was zero calorie brownie with ice cream.

“There’s still one problem,” Mr. Berman said.

“Which is?” she asked.

“Four acres on the county line.” The voice came from the doorway.

Charity turned and saw a man entering the conference room. He was tall and blond, good-looking to the point of being almost another species, and he moved with an easy athletic grace that made her feel instantly awkward. He looked vaguely familiar, but she was sure they’d never met before.

He gave her a quick smile. The flash of teeth, the millisecond of attention, nearly knocked her into the wall. Who was this guy?

“Bernie,” the stranger said, turning the megawatt grin on the group leader. “I heard you were in town. You didn’t call me for dinner.”

Mr. Berman actually looked interested. “I thought you’d be busy with your latest conquest.”

Blond guy shrugged modestly. “I always have time for anyone from the university. Sharon. Martin.” He greeted everyone else at the table, shook a few hands, winked at the old lady at the end, then turned back to Charity.

“Sorry to interrupt. I’m sure under normal circumstances you could deal with this problem without breaking a sweat. But the reason we don’t have a deal isn’t the lease reversion or the traffic light.” He moved close and took the pen from her hand. “It’s the four acres the university has been offered by a very wealthy alumni family. They want their name on the building and they’re willing to pay for that privilege.”

He flashed another smile at Charity, then turned back to the board. “I’m going to explain why that’s a bad idea.”

And then he started talking. She had no idea who he was and probably should have told him to leave, but she couldn’t seem to move or speak. It was as if he projected some space-alien force field that kept her immobilized.

Maybe it was his eyes, she thought, gazing into their hazel-green depths. Or his sun-bleached lashes. It might have been the way he moved or the heat she felt every time he walked by her. Or maybe she’d simply inhaled some weird gas when her computer had sparked, flamed out and died.

While she enjoyed a boy-girl encounter as much as the next woman, she’d never been mesmerized by a man before. Certainly not during a professional meeting that she was supposed to be running.

She knew the type, though. Had seen the power of the havoc they brought with them everywhere they went. Self-preservation stated she should stay far, far away. And she would…just as soon as the meeting was over.

She squared her shoulders, determined to regain control of herself and the meeting. Then her mystery invader’s words sunk in. A gift of prime real estate would be hard for any university to refuse. No wonder Mr. Berman hadn’t been interested in her solution. It didn’t address the problem.

“The research you’re talking about is important to all of us,” blond guy concluded. “Which is why the city’s offer is the best one on the table.”

Charity forced her attention to Mr. Berman, who was nodding slowly. “You’ve made some good points, Josh.”

“Just showing you a few things you might not have thought of,” blond guy said modestly. Blond guy who was apparently named Josh. “Charity’s done all the work.”

She frowned. He was taking over her nervous system and her meeting and trying to give her credit?

“Not at all,” she said, relieved the power of speech had returned. “Who could compete with your excellent points?”

Josh actually winked at her, then reached for the folder on the table. “This is the letter of intent. I think the signing has been put off long enough, don’t you, Bernie?”

Mr. Berman nodded slowly, then pulled a pen out of his suit jacket pocket. “You’re right, Josh.” Then, just like that, he signed the paper, giving Charity the victory she’d so desperately wanted.

Somehow she’d hoped it would be a tiny bit sweeter.

In a matter of minutes, everyone had shaken hands, murmured about setting up the next meeting to get the planning going and left. Charity was alone in the conference room, only the lingering smell of burned plastic and a signed document proof that anything had happened at all. She glanced at the clock. It was 9:17 a.m. At the rate things were happening around here, she could cure several diseases and solve world hunger by noon. Well, not her. So far her accomplishments seemed limited to frying innocent electronics.

She collected the paperwork, went out into the hall and picked up her cold, dead computer. Had it really happened? Had some guy blown into her meeting, saved the day, then disappeared? Like a local super hero or something? And if he was so in the loop, why hadn’t he taken care of the problem weeks ago?

There was no way she could have known about a private donation—no matter how much research and prep work she had done. But Charity still had a vague sense of dissatisfaction. She preferred to win through her own actions. Not because of a rescue.

She made her way to her new office on the second floor. She hadn’t had much time to get settled, what with moving to Fool’s Gold over the weekend and the presentation preparation taking up all her free time. She’d brought in a box of personal items and dumped it on her desk shortly before six that morning. By one minute after six, she’d been in the conference room, going over her presentation, wanting it to be perfect. A complete waste of time, she told herself as she entered the second floor. Between the computer death and the mystery guy, she need not have bothered.

That morning, the open space in the old building had been empty and quiet. Now half a dozen women worked at desks. Doors to offices stood open and the sound of conversation spilled out to create murmured background noise.

She turned toward her office. Her assistant should have arrived, so they could meet face-to-face for the first time. Technically they’d been working together for a couple of weeks now, with Sheryl faxing and e-mailing information to Charity in Nevada.

Charity had visited Fool’s Gold during her interview process. She’d met with the mayor and a few members of the city council, and toured the area. She’d never lived in a small town before. The closest she’d come was Stars Hollow, from watching Gilmore Girls while still in college. She’d liked everything about Fool’s Gold and had been able to imagine herself putting down roots in the lakeside town. She had even been in this building, had looked around. But apparently she hadn’t noticed the giant poster on the wall.

Now she stared into a larger-than-life-size picture of her mystery guy. He smiled down at her, a bicycle helmet under one arm, a tight shirt and bike shorts leaving very little to the imagination. The print underneath the picture proclaimed Josh Golden—Fool’s Gold’s favorite son.

She blinked, then blinked again. Josh Golden as in the celebrated cyclist Josh Golden? Second youngest winner of the Tour de France and possibly hundreds of other bike races? She’d never followed the bike racing circuit or whatever it was called. She didn’t follow any sports. But even she had heard of him. He’d been married to somebody famous—she couldn’t remember who—and was now divorced. He endorsed energy drinks and a major athletic brand. He lived here? He’d come to her meeting and had saved the day?

Not possible, she told herself. Maybe she’d fallen and hit her head and now couldn’t remember the event. Maybe she was in a coma somewhere, imagining all this.

She walked past the poster and moved toward her office. Just outside the open door, she saw a thirty-something woman on the phone. The woman, dark-haired and pretty, looked up and smiled. “She’s here. I gotta go. Love you.” The woman stood. “I’m Sheryl, your assistant. You’re Charity Jones. Nice to finally meet you, Ms. Jones.”

“You, too, and please call me Charity.”

Sheryl grinned. “I just heard you got the university to sign. Mayor Marsha will be doing the happy dance. They’ve been slippery little suckers, but you nailed them.”

A flash of movement caught Charity’s attention. She glanced over her assistant’s shoulder and saw Sheryl’s screen saver had come on with a picture show.

The first shot showed Josh Golden on a racing bike. The second showed him shirtless and grinning. The third photo was a very naked guy in a shower, his back to the camera. Charity felt her eyes widen.

Sheryl glanced over her shoulder and laughed. “I know. He’s gorgeous. I downloaded these from the Internet. Want me to put them on your computer?”

“Ah, no. Thank you.” Charity hesitated. “I’m not sure naked pictures are appropriate for a business office.”

“Really?” Sheryl looked confused. “I hadn’t thought of that. I guess you’re right. I’ll take off the shower picture, even though it’s my favorite. Have you met Josh? He’s what my grandma would call dreamy. I’ve told my husband if Josh ever comes calling I am so outta here.”

So every other woman on the planet also reacted to Josh the way Charity had. Fabulous. Nothing was as thrilling as being part of an adoring crowd, she thought as she made her way into her office.

But it wasn’t a problem. She would simply avoid the man until she figured out how to control her reaction to him. She wanted a nice, normal, safe man. Her mother had always been attracted to the Joshes of the world: too handsome and adored by women everywhere. She’d gotten her heart broken regularly and painfully. Charity had been determined to learn from her mother’s mistakes.

After putting her dead laptop next to her box of personal things she had yet to unpack, Charity glanced through the open door toward Sheryl.

“Would you call the mayor and ask if I can stop by and see her this morning?”

Sheryl shook her head. “This isn’t the big city, Charity. You can pop in to see Marsha anytime.”

“All right. Thank you.”

Charity took the folder with the signed letter of intent with her as she walked to the end of the hallway. Mayor Marsha Tilson’s office was behind huge carved double doors, both of which stood open.

There was a big desk, two flags—U.S. and State of California—and a small conference table that seated six by the window.

Marsha sat in the small conversation group in the corner. As Charity entered, she saw that Josh was already there, lounging on a sofa, looking breathtakingly handsome and completely at home.

Marsha, an attractive, well-dressed woman in her sixties, smiled and rose to her feet. “We were just talking about you, Charity. You’ve had a busy morning. Congratulations. Josh here tells me you convinced Bernie to sign the letter of intent.”

Charity moved toward them, doing her best to appear friendly without actually looking at Josh. When she made the mistake of meeting his hazel-green eyes, she could have sworn she heard the theme from Gone with the Wind playing softly in the background.

Josh stood and gave her a lazy grin. One that made her toes curl inside her pumps. “We haven’t been formally introduced,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Josh Golden.”

She so did not want to shake his hand, given the symptoms she’d already experienced. Actual physical contact might lead to heart failure, or something even more embarrassing. She swallowed, sucked in a breath, then braced herself for it.

His large hand engulfed hers. Sparks even bigger than those that had killed her computer jumped between them. Her stomach flipped, her privates cheered and she half-expected to see fireworks shooting up by the ceiling.

“Mr. Golden,” she murmured, withdrawing quickly, then sinking into the seat behind her. She did her best not to think about the fact that, thanks to Sheryl’s screen saver, she had now seen his bare butt.

“Josh, please.”

And how many women screamed that on a regular basis? she wondered, turning her attention to the much safer mayor.

“Josh is exaggerating my role in the meeting,” she said, pleased to find out she could speak in a complete sentence. “He knew about the other offer of land, which was the problem with getting the university to sign. Once that was dealt with, the other problems were easily solved.”

“I see.” Marsha looked at Josh, who shrugged modestly.

Given the fact that Josh was obviously a famous athlete and comfortable flashing his butt for the camera, she would have expected him to jump at the chance to make himself the star of the moment. Oddly enough, he didn’t.

“We have the letter of intent,” Charity continued. “I’ll have Sheryl set up a meeting to move forward. With the construction bids already in place, we can streamline the process and get the research facility built quickly.”

“Excellent.” Marsha smiled at her. “Why don’t you go get settled? You’ve had a busy first hour. We’ll have lunch tomorrow so you can tell me how it’s going.”

“Thanks.” Charity rose. “Nice to meet you, Josh,” she said, backing away so there was no chance for him to offer to shake hands again.

Once she was safely back in her office, her first order of business would be to give herself a stern talking-to. She had never once, in her whole life, reacted to a man this way. It was beyond embarrassing—it had the potential to interfere with her ability to do her job. She could accept that some flaw in her genetic makeup made her always pick exactly the wrong guy. She didn’t like it, and she wouldn’t allow herself to act like a freaked-out groupie or sex-starved crazy person when she was around Josh. Fool’s Gold was small. They were bound to run into each other. She had to get a grip on herself and her hormones.

There had to be a reasonable explanation, she told herself firmly. She hadn’t been sleeping that well. Or she could be missing a B vitamin or not eating enough broccoli. Whatever the cause, she would figure it out and fix it. She refused to live her life all quivery and weak. She was strong. She was self-actualized. She was not going to let a little thing like a gorgeous man with a butt like a Greek god mess up her day.

* * *

“WELL?” MARSHA ASKED when Charity had left.

A single word with a thousand meanings, Josh thought grimly. What was it about women and language? They could make a man squirm without putting much effort into the task. A skill he both admired and feared.

“She’s smart and fair,” he said.

Marsha raised her eyebrows. “You don’t think she’s pretty?”

He slumped back in the chair and closed his eyes. “Here we go. Why do you feel a compulsion to pair up everyone you meet? I’ve been married, Marsha. Remember? It didn’t go well.”

“Not your fault. She was a bitch.”

He opened one eye. “I thought you liked Angelique.”

“I was concerned that if she stood in the sun, the heat would melt all the plastic she’d had put into her body.”

He laughed. “Very much a possibility.” His ex-wife had been born beautiful, but hadn’t rested until she was extraordinary.

“So you like her,” Marsha asked.

He had a feeling they weren’t talking about his ex anymore. “Why does my opinion matter?”

“Because it does.”

“Fine. I like her. Are you happy?”

“No, but it’s a start.”

He was used to the matchmaking. It went with the not very subtle invitations. He supposed if a man had to live under a curse, his was easy to live with. Too many women all offering whatever he wanted. Too bad being with them didn’t fix what was really wrong with him.

He stood. “I said I’d watch out for her and I will. I don’t know what you’re worried about. This is Fool’s Gold. Nothing bad happens here.” Which was why he’d come home. This was a great place to escape. Or it had been. Lately it felt as if his past was catching up with him.

“I want Charity to be happy,” Marsha said. “I want her to fit in.”

“The longer you don’t tell her the truth, the more pissed she’s going to be.”

Marsha’s mouth twisted into a frown. “I know. I’m waiting for the right time.”

He crossed to her, bent down and kissed her soft, wrinkled cheek. “There’s never a good time, kid. You taught me that.”

He straightened and headed to the door.

“You could take her out to dinner,” Marsha called after him.

“I could,” he agreed as he left.

He could ask out Charity, but then what? In a matter of days she would have heard enough about him to think she knew everything. After that, she would either be eager to find out if all the talk was true, or she would think he was scum on the pond of life. Judging by her sensible shoes and conservative dress, he would guess she would put him on the side of scum.

He crossed through the lobby, ignoring the glass case off to the side, the one containing the yellow jersey he’d won during his third Tour de France race. He stepped out into the sunny morning, then wished he hadn’t when he saw Ethan Hendrix getting out of his car. Ethan who had once been his best friend in the world.

Ethan moved with ease. After all this time, the limp was nearly gone. For anyone else, it wouldn’t even be worth noting. But Ethan wasn’t like everyone else. He’d once been a ranked cyclist. He and Josh were supposed to take on the Tour de France together while they were still in college. They’d spent hours training together, shouting insults back and forth, each claiming he would be the one who would win. After the accident, only Josh had entered, becoming the second youngest winner in the history of the race. Henri Cornet had been younger, by all of twenty-one days, back in 1904.

Ethan looked across the street and their eyes met. Josh wanted to go to his former friend, to tell him that enough time had passed and they both needed to get over it. But despite the phone messages Josh had left, Ethan had never once called him back. Never forgiven him. Not for the accident—Ethan had been at fault. But for what had happened after.

In a way, Josh couldn’t blame him. After all, Josh hadn’t forgiven himself.

* * *

THE NEXT DAY, Charity unpacked her small box of personal items, then dove into her morning. She had brainstormed several ideas to bring businesses to Fool’s Gold, and wanted to run them past the mayor. After printing out her preliminary reports, she familiarized herself with the city’s cranky e-mail system and was surprised to look up and see the mayor standing in her doorway.

“Is it eleven-thirty already?” Charity asked, not able to believe how quickly the time had flown by.

“You look intense,” Marsha said. “Should we delay our lunch?”

“Of course not.” Charity pulled her handbag from the bottom drawer of her desk, then stood and straightened her tailored jacket. “I’m ready.”

They walked down the wide staircase and out onto the sunny street.

City Hall was in the middle of downtown, with old-fashioned street lights lining the wide sidewalk. There were mature trees, a barber shop and a soda fountain advertising old-fashioned milkshakes. Tulips and crocuses grew in window boxes in front of the various businesses.

“The town is beautiful,” Charity said as they crossed the street and headed for the restaurant on the corner. They walked around an open manhole cover where two female city workers set up equipment.

“Quiet,” Marsha murmured. “Too quiet.”

“Part of the reason you hired me.” Charity smiled. “To bring in businesses and with them employment.”

“Exactly.”

“I’ve brainstormed some ideas,” Charity told her, not sure if this was a working lunch or a get-to-know-you lunch.

“How many of them are run by and employ mostly men?”

Charity paused in front of the restaurant, sure she’d misunderstood the mayor’s question. “Excuse me?”

Marsha’s dark blue eyes danced with amusement. “I asked about men. Oh, don’t get frightened. Not for me. For the town. You haven’t noticed?”

Charity slowly shook her head, wondering if the otherwise together mayor had hit her head or taken some questionable medication. “Noticed what?”

“Look around,” the mayor told her. “Show me where the men are.”

Charity had no idea what she was talking about. Men, as in men?

She slowly scanned the street around them. There were two female city workers, a woman in a postal service uniform delivering mail, a young woman painting a store window.

“I don’t see any.”

“Exactly. Fool’s Gold has a serious man shortage. It’s part of the reason I hired you. To bring more men to our town.”

CHAPTER TWO

THE FOX AND HOUND Restaurant was decorated the an American version of a classic English pub. Deep booths, a long wooden bar and English hunting prints on the wall. Charity was sure it was lovely, and later, when she was able to focus better, she would take it all in. Now all she could do was trail after the mayor as they were led to a quiet table by the window.

Charity took her seat across from the older woman and pressed her lips together. She wasn’t going to say a word until Marsha had explained herself.

Marsha began right away. “The problem started years ago. Men left to find better jobs and never came back. That was in my day and for some reason, it’s not getting better. The preliminary census numbers are a disaster. When the actual 2010 census comes out, it’s going to be a disaster—both in the press and in how the town sees itself. If we don’t get some men here for our young women to marry, they’ll start leaving, too, and then the town will die. That’s not going to happen on my watch.”

The mayor sounded fierce as she spoke. And determined.

Charity had reached for her water, mostly to buy time. A man shortage? Was this a joke? Part of a small-town initiation ritual?

“There are plenty of businesses that traditionally employ men,” she began slowly. “If you’re serious about this.”

“I am.” Marsha leaned toward her. “Fool’s Gold was a gold rush town, founded in the 1870s. It grew and prospered, and when the gold ran out, just after the turn of the century, it started to have problems.”

A waitress appeared with menus. She took their drink orders and left.

“Geographically, we’re blessed,” Marsha continued. “That kept us from disappearing completely. The original ski resort was built in the fifties, the vineyards west of here are at least sixty years old. So far we’re holding our own. There are plenty of service industries, some small businesses. Ethan Hendrix owns a construction company that has branched out into windmills, so he brings in a few men, but it’s not enough.”

Marsha shrugged. “I tell myself I should be thrilled by the women he employs. Equality and all that, but I can’t. Men leave here and we don’t know why. Topography? A Native curse? It’s getting out of hand. The young women in town are having trouble finding husbands. Worse, the few men we do have tend to find their wives elsewhere.”

Charity did her best to look both intelligent and interested. “I can see where that would be a difficult situation.” Intellectually she understood a growing population was essential for any town to survive. But a lack of men? Seriously? “You’ve investigated the Native curse issue?” she asked, when she couldn’t think of anything else.

Marsha laughed. “The only Natives who lived in the hills weren’t the curse type. My thought was if we’re bringing in business anyway, how could it hurt to focus on those with traditionally male jobs? Engineering, high tech, a second hospital. Of course hospitals do employ more women, but it would give us a great job base.”

Right. Because Charity could simply go online and order a hospital. She drew in a breath. She needed a little more time to process the information. A man shortage? She’d never heard of anything like that in her life. Not that she could blame the mayor for failing to mention it during the interview process. Talk about an easy way to terrify candidates.

“Over the next couple of days, as you get to know your way around town, I want you to do a mental head count. You’ll see for yourself that men are in desperately short supply. My biggest fear is that word will get out somehow. That a reporter somewhere will find out and start doing stories on the town.”

“Wouldn’t the attention help?”

“This town is special to all of us. We’re not interested in being considered an oddity. We just need to balance our population.”

Charity thought of Josh Golden. He was shiny enough for three men. Mayor Marsha should marry him off to one of the lonely single women.

“There is a bright spot in all this,” Marsha told her with a wink. “As you’re the one meeting with the business owners, you’ll get first pick of any of the men.”

“Lucky me,” Charity murmured, grateful the waitress reappeared and interrupted them. Charity wasn’t going to share the details of her social life, or lack thereof, with her new boss. And there was no reason to explain that she had been totally unsuccessful in the man department.

While avoiding her mother’s penchant for men who were too pretty by far was a good start, it didn’t guarantee a happy ending. So far Charity was practically the poster girl for romance disasters.

When they’d finished placing their orders, a curly-haired well-dressed woman walked up to the table. She was a little taller than Charity, and exuded style and sex appeal.

“So you’re the new girl,” the twenty-something woman said cheerfully. “Hi. I’m Pia O’Brian, Fool’s Gold’s own party planner.”

Marsha shook her head. “Event coordinator. It sounds better.”

“Maybe to you. I like the party aspect of my job.” Pia grinned at Charity. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

“I don’t actually plan parties,” Pia admitted. “I organize the Spring Festival, the Summer Festival, the Fourth of July fireworks.”

“And the Fall Festival?” Charity asked.

Pia laughed. “Yes, but that comes after the End of Summer Festival and focuses on books. We’re a party crowd here.”

“Apparently.” The closest Charity had ever come to a town festival had been a craft show back in college. “I look forward to going to the events.”

“If only that were all that was involved,” Pia said dramatically. “You and I are going to have to talk. I’ll call and set up an appointment.”

“Should I be nervous?” Charity asked with a laugh.

“No. It’ll be fine. Enjoy your lunch,” she called over her shoulder as she sailed toward the door.

“She’s nice,” Charity said. And close to her age. Maybe Pia was a potential friend.

“Just so you know, Pia’s a lot more talk than action, at least when it comes to being bad.” Marsha shook her head. “Oh, Charity, you’re being thrown in the deep end. I hope that’s all right.”

“I was looking for a challenge,” Charity told her. Not to mention a job that was far away from her old one. She’d wanted a fresh start and the job in Fool’s Gold had offered exactly that.

“Good. I don’t want to scare you away on your first day. Maybe on your second.”

Charity laughed. “I don’t scare so easy. In fact, this weekend I’m going to drive around and get to know the different neighborhoods in town.”

“Thinking of buying a house?”

“Not right away, but in a couple of months. I want to settle down.” Having a permanent address and ties to a community had always been her fantasy.

“There are some lovely homes. Although with all the men who will be moving to town, you might want to wait a bit. You did mention you were single. Maybe you’ll meet Mr. Right.”

“Uh-huh,” Charity said and sipped her coffee. Mayor Marsha was very nice, but not the most subtle person.

As for Mr. Right—Charity wasn’t looking for perfect. She just wanted a nice guy who loved her as much as she loved him. Oh, and a man who was single, honest and faithful. Characteristics depressingly hard to find on the dating scene—at least in her experience.

“If anyone around town catches your eye,” Marsha said as their food was delivered. “Just ask me. I know everyone.”

Once again Charity’s brain flashed to Josh. Fifteen kinds of physically amazing and a thousand kinds of trouble, she thought grimly. She might not be able to ignore the weird way her body reacted when he was in the room, but she could do her best to ignore him. And she would. Even in a town as small as Fool’s Gold, it couldn’t be hard.

* * *

“YOU MAKE ME crazy. You know that, right?”

Josh continued to study his computer screen and ignore his assistant. Something he was good at. It came from years of practice.

Unfortunately Eddie wasn’t the type to take the hint. “I’m talking to you, Josh.”

“I knew that.” He turned his attention from the e-mail to his seventy-something assistant who stood with her hands on her hips.

Eddie Carberry wore her white hair in short curls. She liked heavy makeup and velour track suits. She had one for every day of the week. If it was Monday, she was wearing violet.

“They’re getting on my nerves,” she announced. “What the hell were you thinking? I know you’re not sleeping with them, so it’s not about sex. Don’t tell me you’re being nice, either. You know how I hate that.” Eddie glared at him as she spoke.

He knew better than to take her temper seriously, just as he knew the “they” in question were the three college-aged girls that were supposed to be helping her in the office.

“You said you wanted to cut back on your responsibilities,” he hedged. “You said you wanted a staff.”

Eddie rolled her eyes. “I said I wanted to look like Demi Moore, too, but I don’t see you doing anything about that. They’re not staff, they’re blonde and every cliché that goes with the hair color. All they want to talk about is you.” She raised her voice. “Josh is just so handsome,” she said in a mocking squeak. “Do you think he’s going to ask me out?”

She lowered her voice to its normal gravelly tone.

“I thought you’d explained everything when you hired them.”

He winced. “I did. In detail.”

“Then you’re going to have to do it again.”

Apparently.

Young women had done everything from showing up in his bed naked and uninvited to claiming to be pregnant with his baby—all in a bid to get his attention. He understood the theory. If they belonged to someone the public perceived as special then they were special, as well. Telling them he wasn’t worth their time didn’t seem to get through. This summer he’d tried offering jobs instead, thinking the reality of working around him would allow them to see the man behind the myth. So far the plan wasn’t working.

“I could get more help out of a couple of cats,” Eddie grumbled. “And you know how I feel about cats.”

He did. She resented any creature who dared to shed on one of her track suits.

“I’ll talk to them,” he said.

“You’d better.” She lowered her arms to her sides, then walked toward his desk. “The storefront on Third leased out.”

He leaned back in his chair as she sat down. “Good.” It had been vacant nearly three months.

“The lease is at the attorney’s. I’ll pick it up later today for you to read.” She cleared her throat. “You have a request to ride in a charity race.”

“No.”

“It’s for sick kids.”

“It usually is.”

“You should do this one.”

She was trying to provoke him. For some reason Eddie believed if she could get him to yell, he would give in.

“It’s in Florida,” she said. “You could go to Disney World.”

“I’ve been to Disney World.”

“You need to get out, Josh. Ride again. You can’t—”

“Next?” he asked cutting her off.

She stared at him, her eyes narrowed. He stared back.

She blinked first. “Fine. Be that way.” She sighed heavily, as if her life was nothing but pain. “I keep getting calls about a charity golf tournament. The sponsor has a connection with the ski resort and they’re thinking of holding it in town.”

Golf he could do. It wasn’t his sport, so excellence wasn’t expected or required. He could simply be charming for the cameras, raise some money and call it a day.

“Okay on the golf.”

“At least that’s something,” she grumbled. “I’ll have the sales figures for the sporting goods store later today. Preliminary numbers are good. The flyers did a nice job of bringing in business. Internet sales are up, too. Now if we could get a picture of you on some of the bikes we carry…”

He ignored her. Which meant looking away. One of the blondes walked by just then and assumed he was glancing at her rather than away from Eddie. The young woman smiled and slowed.

Damn.

Eddie turned and saw the girl. “Get back to work,” she snapped. “This isn’t about you.”

The girl pouted, but did as she was told.

“Did I say they make me crazy?” Eddie asked.

“More than once.”

“You need a girlfriend. If they think you’re with someone else, they’ll back off.”

“No, they won’t.”

“Probably not,” she agreed. “I swear, Josh, there’s something about you. Women everywhere are just dying to be in your bed.”

He winced, not wanting to have this conversation with his septuagenarian assistant.

“I guess the good news is if you’d done it as much as they said, you’d be dead now.”

“A cheerful thought,” he said dryly.

Eddie stood. “I’ll be back later with those numbers.”

“I’ll count the hours.”

She barked a laugh as she left. Josh returned his gaze to the computer screen, but not his attention. The girls in his office were the least of his problems. What kept him up nights wasn’t the young women so convinced he was the answer to every prayer they’d ever had. It was the reality of knowing he was a total fraud and no one had seemed to figure that out.

* * *

OVER THE NEXT FEW days Charity continued to learn about her job and meet the rest of the staff. She noticed that every one of them was female, with the exception of Robert Anderson, the treasurer.

“Robert’s been with us five years,” Marsha said after a meeting on Wednesday, then excused herself to make a call to the county commissioner.

Robert was a nice-looking man in his early thirties. His dark eyes sparkled with amusement as he shook Charity’s hand. “You look a little surprised to see me. Is it because I’m a guy? Did the Mayor tell you about our little problem?”

“Yes, which must make you really popular.”

He grinned and motioned for her to follow him into his office, where they sat on opposite sides of his desk. “I do okay.”

“Did you know about the odds being in your favor when you took the job?”

He chuckled. “No, and I never noticed during my interviews. I was focused on the job, not the surroundings. Not very observant, I guess. About the second week after I moved here, I realized that a lot of women were dropping in to welcome me.”

Charity was still having trouble grasping the whole “man shortage” concept. “It’s real then—the demographic issue?”

“A very delicate way of putting things. Yes, it’s real. I haven’t figured out why, not that I put a lot of thought into it. Men don’t stay. Or move here. Statistically in an average population, more male babies are born than female babies. It’s around one hundred and ten male babies for every one hundred female babies. But more males die before the age of eighteen, and by middle age there are more women in any given population. Except here. There are more females of every age group.”

Charity had thought the fried computer and seeing Josh Golden’s butt on her assistant’s screen saver would be the strangest parts of her week.

“I’m speechless,” she admitted. “I don’t say that often.”

Robert laughed. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“Not for you. Not only are you one of the precious few, you haven’t been instructed to bring in more male-based businesses.”

His laugh turned into a wince. “Marsha said that?”

“It was a clear directive.” She glanced at Robert’s left hand. “Hmm, I don’t see a wedding ring there. Why aren’t you doing your part for the town by being married?”

He held up both hands, palms facing her. “I tried. I got engaged. We broke things off when we realized we had different ideas about family. I wanted kids, she didn’t. She moved to Sacramento.”

“One less single female to worry about,” Charity murmured, wondering if some TV personality was going to jump out of a closet and tell her she’d been part of an elaborate hoax. As much as she wouldn’t enjoy the humiliation, it would be kind of nice to find out the mayor had been kidding about the man thing. Not that she thought her luck was that good.

Then she realized her response to Robert had been slightly less than sensitive. “Oh, wait. I didn’t mean to say that. I’m sorry your engagement didn’t work out.”

He shrugged. “It was a while ago. I’m dating again.”

“Are they rejoicing in the streets?”

“There was a parade last week.”

“Sorry I missed that. I met Pia O’Brian a couple of days ago. It seems there are a lot of parades in Fool’s Gold.”

“Festivals,” he corrected. “It’s our thing. There’s one nearly every month. It brings in tourists and the locals seem to love them. Is this your first small town?”

She nodded. “I’ve mostly grown up in large suburbs, which isn’t the same thing. I’m looking forward to the change.”

“Just be aware that everyone knows everything about everyone. There aren’t any secrets. But I grew up in a place like this. I wouldn’t want to be in the big city.” He leaned toward her. “We should grab lunch sometime. I could fill you in on small town eccentricities.”

Robert was nice, she thought, looking into his dark eyes. Smart, with a good sense of humor. “I’d like that.”

She paused, hoping for a slight whisper of anticipation, a quiver or a hint of physical reaction. Something. Anything.

Nothing, she thought with a sigh, refusing to think about her amazing reaction to Josh Golden. It had been a blood sugar thing. Or too much coffee and not enough sleep. Robert was a better choice by far.

She was about to excuse herself when her gaze fell on a plastic toy on Robert’s desk. It was a bobblehead and the oversized head looked oddly familiar.

“Is that…”

“Josh Golden,” Robert told her. “Have you met him?”

“Um, yes.” The man had his own bobbleheads?

“What did you think?” Robert’s voice was casual but she thought she saw a flash of something intense in his gaze.

“I didn’t have time to think anything,” she said, telling herself it was nearly the truth. Not being able to breathe meant fewer functioning brain cells.

“He’s pretty famous. A cyclist. Tour de France, and all that.”

“I’m not much of a sports fan,” she admitted. “Why is he here and not out racing?”

“He retired a while ago. All the women here go crazy for him. He has a reputation for being something of a ladies man. You’ll probably fall for him.”

Charity stared at Robert. “Excuse me?”

“It’s inevitable. No woman is able to resist him.”

Talk about a challenge, she thought, a little annoyed. “There must be at least one who’s said no.”

“I haven’t heard of her. But Josh isn’t in it for anything but the thrill of the chase.”

Some of her pleasure at the conversation faded. “Is that a warning?”

“No. I’d, ah…” He glanced at her. “I’d really like you to be different, Charity.”

His gaze was warm, which was nice. She smiled.

“I’ll do my best,” she said. “I’m not really the groupie type.”

“Good.”

She stood. “I need to get back to work. It was nice to meet you.”

He rose as well. “The pleasure is all mine.”

A nice man, she thought as she left. On the surface, everything she was looking for. Of course the handful of other men who had been in her life could have fit that description, as well. But they had all been disasters.

She hadn’t come to Fool’s Gold to fall in love, she reminded herself. She’d come for a job and to put down roots. Although falling in love with the right guy and getting married would be really nice. Having a family had always been part of her dream.

There was time, she thought as she made her way back to her office. Robert might not make her heart go into arrhythmia, but that could be for the best. She’d learned her lesson several times over. She was going to be completely sensible when it came to her personal life. Sensible and calm and rational. Anything else would just blow up in her face—she was sure of it.

* * *

THE REST OF CHARITY’S work week passed quickly. She met more of the city council members—all women—and familiarized herself with ongoing development projects. Sheryl left at four-thirty nearly every day, but Charity worked later. On Thursday, she stayed until nearly seven, when her stomach growled loudly enough to break her concentration. She glanced out her window and was surprised to see that it was dark.

After shutting down her shiny new computer, she collected her handbag, a briefcase filled with files she would review after she had dinner, and left.

The building was quiet and a little spooky. She walked quickly out onto the street where a cool breeze made her wish for a slightly thicker coat. The coldest day of winter in Henderson, a suburb of Las Vegas, had been warmer than this early-spring evening in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada.

Fortunately, the hotel was only a couple of blocks away. Charity hurried along the sidewalk. When she reached the corner, she saw an old man sweeping the front steps of the bookshop she’d already visited at lunch. He nodded at her, then paused.

“Now, I don’t know you,” he said, squinting at her in the light from the streetlamp. “Do I?”

His tone was friendly. She smiled.

“I’m Charity Jones, the new city planner.”

“Are you now? You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you? All young ladies are pretty, even the ones that aren’t.” He chuckled then gave a wheezy cough. “I’m Morgan. Just Morgan. This is my bookstore.”

“Oh. It’s wonderful. I’ve already shopped here twice.”

“I must have missed you. Next time we’ll talk. You tell me what you like to read and I’ll make sure it’s in stock.”

Talk about small-town service, she thought, delighted. “Thank you. That’s very nice.”

“My pleasure. You know your way home?”

“I’m staying at Ronan’s Lodge.”

“That’s just down two blocks. I’ll stand here and make sure you make it. You turn back and give me a wave when you reach the steps.”

His offer was unexpected. She wasn’t worried about anything happening between here and the hotel, but it was nice to know that someone would notice if it did.

“Thank you,” she said. “You’re very kind.”

He winked at her. “I’ve been called a lot of different things, Charity, but I’ll accept kind. You have yourself a nice night.”

“I will.”

She walked the rest of the way to the hotel. Once she reached the steps leading to the lobby, she turned back. Morgan was watching. She gave a wave and he raised his hand in return. Then he went back to sweeping.

She was going to like it here, she decided. While every place had its quirks, there was a lot to appreciate in Fool’s Gold.

She paused before pushing through the double doors leading to the inside of the hotel. They were large and heavily carved, the workmanship from another era.

Ronan’s Lodge, also known as Ronan’s Folly, was a huge hotel on the edge of the lake. It had been built when gold flowed like the rivers the men panned it from. Ronan McGee, an Irish immigrant, had come west to make his fortune, then he’d spent much of what he’d earned to create the hotel.

Charity had read its history the last time she’d been in town. She’d been unable to sleep the night before her interview and had read all the tourist brochures in her room.

Now, as she walked into the large lobby, with the carved wood panels on the walls and the massive imported chandelier made of Irish crystal, she felt a sense of homecoming. Eventually she would buy a house and settle in to life in Fool’s Gold, but Ronan’s Lodge was the best kind of temporary housing.

She walked past the registration desk, toward the curved staircase that would take her to the second floor. From there a smaller staircase wound up to the third floor, where she had a small suite.

She’d barely put her hand on the banister, had yet to take even that first step, when someone spoke. The voice came from behind her and spoke only a single word.

“Hello.”

She didn’t have to look to know who was talking. All she had to do was stand there, feeling her heart race uncontrollably in her chest as heat and awareness flooded her.

Her week had begun with a Josh Golden invasion and it seemed it would end that way, as well. The only question she had as she braced herself before turning to face him was why, of all the men in all the world, it had to be him.

CHAPTER THREE

CHARITY TURNED TO find Josh standing next to her in the lobby. He was just as tall as she remembered, his tousled hair looking more gold than blond in the flattering light. His hazel-green eyes crinkled slightly at the corners as his mouth curved up in an easy smile. He was very possibly the best-looking man she’d ever seen in person. And hey, she’d seen his naked butt again just a few hours earlier. Talk about making it difficult to concentrate.

“I’m Josh,” he said. “We met in the mayor’s office.”

She nearly choked on a laugh. As if she would forget. “Yes,” she said, hoping she sounded calm and completely unaffected by his presence. “Earlier this week. You took over my meeting, then closed the deal. I remember.”

“You’re not pissed about that, are you?”

She was many things—confused about why her body had to react to him the way it did. Annoyed that he’d had access to information she couldn’t get and had therefore done a better job than her at the presentation. Hungry and tired. But she wasn’t pissed.

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “We needed to get the university to sign and that’s what happened. I should probably thank you.”

She paused, hoping he would excuse himself to get back to whatever…or whoever…brought him to the hotel. Instead he continued to look at her.

She tried not to feel his gaze, or react to it. A task that took way more effort than it should have.

After a few seconds of staring at him and watching him stare back, she said, “I don’t want to keep you from your evening.”

“You’re not.” He pointed to the stairs. “Shall we?”

“Shall we what?”

“Climb. We’re neighbors. You’re 301, and I’m 303.”

He put his hand on the small of her back, as if to guide her up the stairs. Instinctively, she moved with the pressure, refusing to acknowledge the bolts of electricity zigging and zagging in every direction. There was heat radiating from each of his fingers—a heat that made her desperately long for bare skin on skin, an unused closet and fifteen minutes alone with Josh.

Blood sugar, she told herself. She had low blood sugar.

“Why do you live at a hotel?” she asked, mostly to distract herself.

“Why not? It’s centrally located, there’s room service and someone else makes my bed every morning.”

“The ultimate in not taking responsibility for your life?” she asked, then wished she hadn’t. So much for a flip answer.

Instead of getting annoyed, Josh chuckled. A low, sexy, appealing sound that made her break out in goosebumps.

“Because taking responsibility is the height of perfection?” he asked.

“It’s a sign of maturity.”

“A quality that’s highly overrated.”

For him, she thought grimly. She’d been responsible for taking care of herself since she was nine or ten years old. She’d always envied those who were carefree enough to not have to worry. Those who knew they would be looked after by others. That hadn’t been an option for her. Her mother had been the free spirit in the family, leaving Charity to make sure their world ran smoothly.

Charity had always loved her mother and wished she was different in equal measures. Sure it was fun to have a parent who never said you had to go to school or do homework, but there were also times when a kid wanted structure and rules. Charity had learned to provide those for herself.

They reached the third floor. She hurried ahead, wanting to reach her room and escape inside. Some how, though, he got in front of her and leaned against her door.

“We should have a drink sometime,” he said, his hazel-green eyes gazing into hers and making every cell in her body sigh in appreciation.

“I’m not sure spending time with a man who cheerfully declares himself to be immature and irresponsible is a good thing.”

The low chuckle came again. “I’m not as bad as all that.”

“Aren’t you?”

He turned in a slow circle. “Look. I’m completely normal. Practically boring.”

He was many things, but boring wasn’t one of them.

Before she could point that out, his door opened. A beautiful blonde wearing one of his shirts and nothing else looked at him.

“Hello, Josh. I thought I heard your voice.”

Josh straightened. Charity took advantage of the distraction to slip into her room and carefully lock the door behind her. She leaned against the wall for a few seconds before bending over and turning on a lamp.

As light flooded the small but elegantly furnished living room, she ignored the sense of defeat knotting in her stomach and told herself she wasn’t even surprised. Of course a guy like Josh would have a woman waiting in his room. They probably came in shifts. From everything she’d heard, he loved women and they loved him back.

She squared her shouders. Even if she couldn’t control her physical reaction to him, she could control what she did about it, which would be exactly nothing.

* * *

BY FRIDAY CHARITY was more comfortable in the old City Hall building and had learned the name of nearly everyone who worked there.

Her eleven o’clock meeting was with Pia O’Brian, something she’d been looking forward to ever since Sheryl had put it on her calendar.

Pia arrived right on time, her brown curly hair tumbling past her shoulders, her well-cut suit emphasizing her long legs.

“How are you settling in?” Pia asked as Charity led her to the small conference table by the window. “Ready to run screaming back to the big city?”

“I like it here. Small town life suits me.”

“You say that now,” Pia said, her voice teasing. She set a stack of folders on the table. “Give it a few months, when you realize everyone in town knows your business and they’re not afraid to talk.”

Charity laughed. “My life isn’t that interesting. Why would anyone care?”

“You’re new. Fresh gossip for the ladies in town. Just remember—there aren’t any secrets. Not for long.”

“Thanks for the warning.” She eyed the folders. “Light reading?”

“I like to think the information won’t put you to sleep, but I can’t guarantee that.” Pia tapped the pile. “These are recaps of the last two years’ worth of festivals, celebrations and general civic good times. The Fourth of July parade, the Christmas Lights Fantasy Night, that sort of thing. The ever-popular Gold Rush Days. If it needs a booth of any kind and it’s happening in Fool’s Gold, I’m probably involved. Or at the very least, offering advice. So if you ever need two thousand folding chairs at a great price, see me first.”

“I hope I never do,” Charity murmured.

“Not planning a big wedding?”

“Not dating.”

“Me, either.”

“I’m new in town,” Charity told her. “What’s your excuse?” She couldn’t imagine Pia being without a man. She was so pretty and outgoing.

“A total lack of men,” Pia said cheerfully. “I’m sure Marsha explained that you need to focus on male-based businesses. The last thing we need around here is a beauty college. I do my best with male-oriented events. Golf tournaments, car shows.” Pia both looked and sounded serious.

Charity couldn’t help laughing. “I know this is a big deal, but you have to admit, it’s really strange.”

“Tell me about it. There were ten percent more girls than guys in my high school graduating class. That made prom time very ugly.”

“Not that you went without a date.”

Pia shrugged. “No, but a couple of my friends had to import guys for the dance. Very humiliating.”

“You grew up here?”

Pia hesitated, then nodded. “Born and raised. Third generation. Or is it fourth? I can never remember. My parents moved away years ago, but I stayed. The last of the O’Brians in Fool’s Gold.” She grinned. “It’s a lot of responsibility.”

“Apparently.” Charity leaned toward her. “Living here all your life must be great. I moved around constantly when I was growing up. My mom didn’t like to settle, but it was all I dreamed about. Getting to know everything about a place, putting down roots. You’re lucky.”

Something flickered in Pia’s eyes. “The disadvantage is that whole lack of secrets thing. Everyone knows everything about you. Sometimes I think it would be very nice to be able to walk down the street without anyone knowing who I was.”

“It can be lonely.”

“So can small town life.” Pia shook her head. “Okay, enough with the philosophy and back to business. I have this year’s festival schedule for you to look over. Depending on what kind of business you’re courting, you might want to invite a few executives and their families to experience small town life. Or better yet, single male executives. We’re at our best during the festivals. All friendly and spruced up.”

Charity scanned the list. “When is the town not spruced up? There’s something nearly every month.”

“That’s not even everything,” Pia continued. “There are also various charity events. We were going to have a bike race, but that keeps getting pushed off.”

Bike race? As in Josh Golden’s territory? Charity thought about asking but was afraid Pia would think the question implied interest.

“There are the charity golf tournaments,” Pia continued. “We have a great golf course. Several, actually, but the pro course is well known. Don’t ask me why—I don’t do the golf thing. And I’m not big on the celebrities themselves. Too high-maintenance.”

“Good to know,” Charity murmured. “So you won’t be looking there for a husband.”

Pia laughed. “I’m not sure I’m the marrying kind. I don’t even know if I want kids. I’m still at the keeping-a-plant alive stage of my life. Next, I’ll consider getting a pet.”

“At least you have a plan.”

“I’ll let you know how it works out for me.”

They went through the rest of the festival event schedule. Charity promised to look over the material and let Pia know if she had any questions.

Pia collected her purse and briefcase and stood. “I’m glad you took the job, Charity. I know you were Marsha’s number one choice for it. Which is saying something because numbers two and three were single guys.”

“I’m all the more appreciative.”

“As you should be.” Pia laughed. “By the way, there’s a group of women who get together a couple times a month. Sort of a girls’ night out. Want me to call you the next time we get together?”

“Yes. Thanks. I’d really like that.”

“Then I’ll be in touch.” Pia gave a little wave and left.

Charity returned to her desk, where she could see the stack of folders she would be carrying home that evening for review. She’d been so busy with her job that she hadn’t had time to turn on the TV in her hotel room. Probably not a bad thing. Although a case could be made that a social life would be nice.

Instead of thinking of Robert, a perfectly pleasant and normal single guy, her brain immediately flitted to Josh. The man who had been hitting on her while his nightly entertainment waited in his room. Talk about tacky.

At least a girls’ night out would be fun and a chance to make friends in town. Over the weekend, she could start exploring the area, maybe find out if the local community college had interesting classes on things like cooking or knitting. She needed to get out more.

She noted on her calendar to get a catalog, then turned to her computer. But before she could read her e-mail, there was a knock on her open door.

Charity glanced up to see a forty-something woman wearing a dark blue police uniform walk into her office.

“Alice Barns,” the woman said as she crossed to the desk and shook Charity’s hand firmly. “Fool’s Gold’s Chief of Police. Thought I’d come introduce myself.”

Charity motioned to the chair on the other side of her desk. “I’m glad you did. It’s nice to meet you.” She tilted her head and smiled. “What should I call you?”

The other woman grinned. “Chief Barns in front of the press or my men. Alice when we’re off the clock.”

“Good to know.”

“How are you settling in?” Alice asked.

“It’s been a busy week. Lots to learn. So far, I adore the town.”

“It’s a good place to live,” Alice told her. “Not a lot of crime. A few teenagers thinking they’re smarter than they are. The occasional break-in at one of the vacation rentals. Tourists speeding. Nothing my force can’t handle.” She shifted in her seat. “There might be a new homeless person in town.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Someone’s stealing from the local grocery stores. Mostly snacks and convenience foods. A few toiletries. Not to worry. We’ll find out who’s doing it and put a stop to the stealing.”

While Charity hated the thought of someone going hungry, she understood that local businesses didn’t want to be paying for shoplifters.

“You plan to go exploring around town?” Alice asked.

“Yes. I want to get to know the area.”

“Good idea. Just a word of caution. The abandoned mines are dangerous. Don’t go slipping past the fencing and try to hike down.”

“I’m not much of a hiker,” Charity admitted.

“You’d be surprised how many people try it. They think an old, dangerous mine sounds romantic. If I had my way, we’d leave ’em lost and let natural selection work things out for us. But Mayor Marsha feels we need to show the tourists a good time, regardless of how stupid they are.”

Charity couldn’t help laughing. Alice’s lips twitched.

“Not that I would say that to the mayor,” Alice murmured.

“Probably for the best.”

Alice rose. “Well, that’s about it. We have zero tolerance for drunk driving, but you’re not the type to try, so I won’t lecture you.”

Charity stood and joined the chief on the other side of the desk. “How can you tell I wouldn’t do that?”

“Am I wrong?”

“No, but you sound sure.”

“I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

They walked out together.

On the main floor of the building Chief Barns shook hands with her again.

“You have any problems, you get in touch with me or anyone in my office,” Alice told her. “Mayor Marsha is very impressed with you and your work and that’s good enough for me.”

Charity felt herself flush a little at the compliment. “Thank you. I’ll do my best to stay out of trouble.”

“I know you will.”

The chief put on her blue cap and walked out onto the sidewalk. Charity watched her go. She’d meant her staying out of trouble comment to be a joke, but Alice had taken it seriously. As if she knew that Charity always did the right thing. She was just that kind of person.

Which was a good thing, right? She’d never believed that bad girls had more fun.

“Alice trying to scare you?”

She turned and saw Robert coming down the stairs.

“I liked her.”

“Wait until she pulls you over for speeding. She can be very intimidating. She has three sons. They play football in high school, so they tower over her. But I swear they all tremble in her presence.”

Charity chuckled. “That could be more a mom thing than a police thing.”

“You’re probably right.” He paused. “I’m heading out to San Francisco this weekend, to meet up with friends. But I wanted to know if you’ll be free next weekend for dinner.”

Dinner with Robert. It sounded…nice.

“I’d like that,” she said.

“Great. We’ll firm up the day and time during the week.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to get going, if I’m going to be in San Francisco on time.”

“Sure. Enjoy your time with your friends.”

“I will.”

He left through a side door that led to the employee parking lot.

Dinner with Robert would be a very pleasant way to spend an evening, she told herself, then winced. Pleasant? Couldn’t she do better than that? So what if she didn’t feel sparks when she was around him? Sparks were dangerous, not to mention highly overrated. Better substance than flash.

She returned to the second floor, but before she got all the way to her office, Sheryl came running out to meet her.

“You’re going to be late,” her assistant told her. “You’d better hurry.”

“For what? I don’t have any more meetings today.”

“You have one now.” Sheryl sounded delighted. “Marsha called a little bit ago and put it on your calendar. I’m beyond jealous. Not that I need a tour, but still. I wish it were me.”

Charity didn’t like the sound of that. “What’s the meeting?”

“Josh is coming here to show you around town!” Sheryl’s eyes brightened with excitement. “Just the two of you, alone. It would make all my fantasies come true. Well, not all of them, of course, but at least the ones I can talk about.”

Time with Josh? “Why would Marsha set something like that up? I can find my way around town on my own.”

“This is with Josh! You’re so lucky. Marsha is doing you a really big favor.”

Charity privately thought she didn’t need those kinds of favors, but she wouldn’t say that to Sheryl. Not only was the mayor her boss, but she had to assume Marsha was simply trying to be nice. It wasn’t as if Charity could confess her total lack of control whenever Josh was within twenty feet of her.

Her reaction to him was bad enough, but being a cliché made everything even worse. Apparently every woman in town reacted the same way. The poor man, so overwhelmed by female interest. It was amazing he got anything done in a day. She frowned. Maybe he didn’t. For all she knew, he sat around and lived on his racing proceeds and naked-butt-picture royalties.

None of which mattered, she reminded herself. She had a meeting to get through.

“When am I supposed to meet him?” she asked Sheryl.

“Now,” a low male voice said from beside her.

The sudden explosion of her heart speed took her breath away. Her thighs trembled and she watched the world narrow to a single person illuminated by an almost otherworldly light.

What was it about him that got her entire body in on the conspiracy to betray her? It had to be chemistry, or a deficiency on her part. Nutritional or possibly mental. Maybe if she went to the gym more. Or at all.

“Hello,” she said, going for calm and hoping she made it. “Nice to see you again. I understand we have a meeting scheduled.”

“Marsha thought I should show you the town.”

“Isn’t she the best?” Charity asked, trying not to clench her teeth. “And while I appreciate the thought, I’m pretty good at finding my own way around Fool’s Gold, so if you have something else you need to get to…”

He didn’t take the hint. Instead he smiled. “You’re my only priority.”

He was teasing, she told herself. He had to be. Yet there was something about the way he spoke the words that made her want to moan…or purr.

“Oh, my,” Sheryl breathed.

Charity looked at her. Sheryl grinned unapologetically before returning to her desk.

Charity tugged on the hem of her conservative tweed jacket. “Fine. Good. Then we’ll take our tour.” She hesitated. “We’re not riding bikes, are we?”

His perfect mouth curved into a knowing smile. “You’ve been talking about me.”

Charity didn’t like the sound of that. It implied an interest she absolutely refused to acknowledge. “You’re difficult to avoid, what with the posters, screen savers and bobbleheads.”

“Which is your favorite?”

She immediately thought of the picture on Sheryl’s screen saver—the one showing Josh in the shower. Naked. His back to the camera.

“I haven’t given it any thought,” she lied. “Can I get back to you?”

“I can’t wait to hear the answer.”

“I’ll bet. Does your ego ever get too big to carry around?”

The grin widened. “Sure. That’s why I have fans. To help with the heavy lifting.”

Impossible man, she thought, trying not to laugh. She pointed to the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Don’t pretend this isn’t the highlight of you day.”

“Are you always so sure of yourself?”

He held open the door. “It’s part of my charm.”

She was sure it was—which meant she was in serious trouble.

CHAPTER FOUR

JOSH LED THE WAY TO a shiny black SUV. A really big one that required a step to make it into the passenger seat. Charity was grateful that her simple navy dress hung past her knees and wasn’t very fitted. The style allowed her to make the climb without flashing any of the good citizens who might be watching.

Josh climbed in next to her, moving with the easy grace of an athlete. He rested his arm on the console between them and leaned close. Too close. With her first breath, she caught the scent of his body—a warm and masculine smell designed to melt the last barrier between her good sense and a free-for-all begging for attention.

He was exactly like the men who had drifted in and out of her mother’s life, she thought, determined not to be sucked into the same pain and heartbreak she’d seen countless times. Showy men were nice to look at, but horrible bets when it came to relationships. How many times had her mother had her heart broken? Ten? Twenty? It seemed as if every few months she found someone new. Someone perfect and shallow who promised everything, then left her shattered.

Charity wanted happily-ever-after. And normal. Something Josh could never be.

“What would you like to see?” he asked, his voice low and slightly suggestive.

She forced herself to stare out the front of the SUV and told herself she was desperately bored. There were a thousand things that needed her attention back in her office. Phone calls to be made, plans to be started, lists to be reviewed. Nothing about her time with Josh was the least bit interesting.

Charity sighed. At least when she lied to herself, there was no one to call her on it. “You’re the local,” she said. “I’ll let you pick the route.”

“Fair enough, but you’re going to need to put on your seatbelt.”

She reached for the strap. “Because it’s the law, right? We’re not going up a mountain or anything.”

He chuckled. “Not on a first date. I like to save the intense stuff for later. To make sure you can handle it.”

She wanted to point out this wasn’t a date, but that would require speaking and his verbal play had left her throat a little dry.

The man was charm personified, she thought, wondering if it was a God-given gift or something he had to work at. With her luck, he was a natural. He probably didn’t even know what he was doing to the women around him. Not that she would tell him.

He pulled into the street, then rolled to a stop at the light on the corner. “You take the interstate into town?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“See much of the area since you arrived?”

“Just what I’ve walked to. I’ve only been in town a couple of weeks. There hasn’t been much time.”

“You don’t get weekends off?”

“I spent my first weekend getting ready for the meeting with the university.” She grimaced as she thought of how that morning had been a disaster until Josh had breezed in, spoken a few magic words and saved the day. Not that she was upset to have the contract signed. It was just that he’d made her feel bad at her job. Or maybe she’d done that all by herself.

“Last weekend, I was getting ready for my meetings this week.”

“I sense a pattern,” he said. “You need to get out more.”

Was he offering? She desperately wanted him to be offering. Which was silly, because she would have to say no to any kind of offer from him. The man wasn’t good for her sanity. Plus, hello. There’d been a woman waiting in his room the other night. A close-to-naked woman obviously expecting her evening to take a turn for the erotic. Josh was a player and Charity had never understood the rules of the game.

Note to self, she thought. She would look Josh up on the Internet when she got back to her room that night. Any kind of crush should be destroyed by the reality of his personal life.

“I plan to be in Fool’s Gold for a long time,” she said. “I’ll see it all eventually.”

He turned two blocks before the sign for the interstate, then headed west. “There are three different wineries growing grapes in the valley,” he said, pointing to the acres of vineyards sprawling to the horizon. “Mostly cabernet sauvignon, merlot and cab franc. Some other grapes for blending.”

He flashed her a smile. “Which takes us to the limit of my wine knowledge. If you want to know more, they do tours every weekend, starting in a couple of weeks.”

As they sped down the highway, Charity could see tiny buds on the bare branches—the promise of grapes to come.

“Most of the wineries were started years ago,” he continued. “This whole valley used to grow everything from corn to apples. Gradually the vineyards are taking over. Something about the soil and the weather.”

“And money,” she said. “For a lot of farmers, there’s more profit in grapes. Wine is very big these days.”

He glanced at her. “Impressive.”

She did her best not to blush. “I did my homework before I moved here.” She cleared her throat. “The wineries are closer to town than I realized,” she said, turning back to see the mountains rising against the blue sky. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small notepad.

“What a great resource. Any company thinking of relocating here needs to be taken on a tour of the area,” she said more to herself than him. “This is a great selling point.”

There had to be some kind of brochure the town used to promote itself. She made another note to review it when she got back and make sure the wineries and vineyards were prominently mentioned. Maybe look over Pia’s schedule. There had to be a wine or grape festival.

“The wineries are just part of it,” Josh told her. “There’s also hiking and camping in the summer and skiing in the winter. The resort has a five-star restaurant and a cooking school. We get plenty of tourists coming through.”

“You know a lot about the area. How long have you been here?” she asked.

“I grew up here. Moved to the area when I was ten.”

“That must have been nice,” she said enviously. “When I was a kid I dreamed of staying in one place, but my mom liked to travel.”

Josh glanced at her. Something questioning flashed through his eyes, then was gone. “Did she say why?”

“She had a lot of reasons. She liked the thrill of a new place. The possibilities. She used to say she was born wanting to move on.” Part of the motive to move had always been to escape from anything bad that had happened before, Charity thought. Which was mostly a man, and the end of a relationship.

Charity had loved her mother, but the constant moving around hadn’t been easy. Especially because Sandra moved whenever the mood struck her. She didn’t care if Charity was only a few weeks from finishing a semester or a school year. “I grew up being the new girl.”

“Was that a problem?”

“I wasn’t outgoing. By the time I’d made a few friends and settled in, we were moving again. I felt like I was always scrambling to learn the rules.”

“You’ll like Fool’s Gold.”

“I already do. Everyone is so friendly and open.”

He made a couple of turns, then they were heading back toward the mountains.

Charity found herself relaxing a little. Being close to Josh wasn’t so scary—not if she remembered to keep breathing and ignore the steady hum of awareness that connected them. At least from her side.

A bright red import came toward them. The car was filled with college-aged girls who rolled down the windows and hooted and waved at Josh. He nodded back.

“Fans?” she asked, watching the car zip past.

“Probably.”

She risked turning toward him. “It’s the bike thing, right?”

His mouth twitched as if he were trying not to smile. “Yeah. The bike thing.”

“Because you’re a famous bike rider?”

“Me and Lance Armstrong.”

“So you’ve ridden in the Tour de France?”

He glanced at her, his humor obvious. “Do you even know what that is?”

“It’s, ah, a famous bike race. In France. It’s done in parts or stages or legs or something. And there’s a yellow jersey.”

“Good start.” His voice was teasing. “It’s stages, by the way.”

“I’m not really that into sports. But from what I’ve heard, you’re very impressive.”

He raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything.

“Do you make a good living at that? The bike riding?”

“You can. Prize money can be substantial. A top rider can pull in over a million.”

“Dollars?”

“Tour de France pays in Euros.”

“Right.” She was feeling a little sick to her stomach.

“Endorsements bring in the big money. Multimillion dollar deals.” He glanced at her. “They pay in dollars. Or yen.”

A million here, a million there. Did currency really matter? “So you were successful?”

“A case could be made.”

“And worth millions?”

“On a good day.”

Because the sexual appeal, incredible body and handsome face weren’t enough.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“In the SUV or in Fool’s Gold?”

“Either. Both.”

“I’m showing you the area because Marsha asked me and I’m in Fool’s Gold because I live here. I’ve retired from racing.”

She shifted to face him. “Retired? You’re barely in your thirties.”

“It’s a young man’s sport.”

How young? Retired? That didn’t seem possible. She wondered if he’d been injured. Not that she would ask. It seemed too personal.

“What do you do now?”

“This and that. I keep busy. I have a few things going on in the area.”

They were back in town. Josh drove around the lake. There were small hotels, a couple of B&Bs, restaurants and vacation homes. Across the street were the boutiques, a bakery and an open, grassy park.

“Angelo’s has great Italian food,” he said, pointing to the entrance to a large restaurant. “Margaritaville has the best Mexican food.”

“Named after the Jimmy Buffet song?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Avoid the extra shot with the margaritas unless you’re a professional. It’ll knock you on your butt.”

“Thanks for the tip. I’m more a single glass of wine kind of girl.”

He mentioned several other restaurants, a couple of bars and the drive-in with the best fries and shakes anywhere. All of which made her happy she’d taken the job in Fool’s Gold. If only she’d been able to grow up in a place like this, she thought wistfully. But her mother would have hated everything about the town. Especially the close ties.

Her mother liked to come and go as she pleased, always looking for new adventures—especially where men were concerned. Charity had learned early not to expect any one guy to stick around for long. They were always moving through, too.

She’d vowed her life would be different. That she would find someone special, get married and be with that person forever. So far, she hadn’t been very successful in that department but she was determined to keep trying.

Rather than dwell on her sucky love life, she asked, “Did you ever have any bike races in town?”

“No. There was some talk, but nothing was arranged.” He glanced out the window.

“What about a charity event? To raise money for kids?”

“I don’t ride anymore.”

“At all?”

He shook his head.

She thought he would continue to circle the large lake, but instead he made a few turns and before she realized where they were, he’d pulled up in front of City Hall. Their time together had ended abruptly, as if she’d done something wrong.

When he didn’t turn off the engine, she got the hint.

“Thanks for the tour,” she said, feeling awkward. “I appreciate you taking the time.”

“No problem.”

She hesitated, wanting to say something else, then got out of the SUV. He drove off without a word.

She stood on the sidewalk, staring after him. What had just happened? What had she said? She felt oddly guilty and wasn’t sure why.

“Because the hormones weren’t enough of a complication,” she murmured with a sigh.

* * *

THE NIGHT WAS COOL, the sky clear. There wasn’t any moonlight to illuminate the road, but that didn’t bother Josh. He knew every bump, every curve. There was no danger from other riders because he rode alone. He had to. It was the only way to work through his issues.

As he headed up the incline, he pedaled harder, faster, wanting to increase his heart rate, wanting to feel the blood pumping through his body, wanting to exhaust himself so maybe, just maybe, he would sleep.

The darkness surrounded him. At this speed the only sound was the wind in his ears and the tires on the pavement. His skin was cold, his shirt wet with sweat. Goggles protected his eyes, the helmet was snug on his head. He sped over the top of the hill and onto the straight five-mile stretch that led back to town.

This was the only part of his ride he didn’t like. There was nothing to distract him, nothing to keep his mind busy, so he had time to think. To remember.

Without wanting to, he was back in Italy, at the Milan–San Remo, or as the Italians referred to it, la Classica di Primavera. The Spring Classic.

A sprinter’s dream race, but deadly for the sprinter who wasn’t prepared for the hills. It was one of the longest single-day races. Two hundred and ninety-eight kilometers, or one hundred and eighty-five miles. That year Josh had been in the best shape of his life. He couldn’t lose.

Maybe that’s what had gone wrong, he thought grimly as he rode faster and faster. The gods had decided such arrogance had to be punished. Only he hadn’t been the one struck down.

A bike race was all about sensation. The sound of the crowd, of the peloton—the pack of racers—and of the bike. The feel of the road. The burn of muscles, the ache of a chest sucking in air. A racer was either ready or not. It came down to talent, skill, determination and luck.

He’d always been lucky. In life, in love—or at least in lust—and in racing. That day he’d been luckiest of all.

That’s what the photographs showed. As fate, or luck, would have it, someone had been taking a series of pictures of the race just as the crash had occurred. There, in single-frame clarity, was the sequence. The first bike to go down, the second.

Josh hadn’t been in the lead. He’d been holding back deliberately, letting the others exhaust themselves.

Frank had been young, early twenties, his first year racing professionally. Josh had done his best to mentor the kid, to help him out. Their coach had told Frank to do whatever Josh did and he wouldn’t get into trouble.

Their coach had been wrong.

The still photographs didn’t capture the sound of the moments, he thought as he rode faster. The first guy to go down had been on Josh’s right. Josh had felt more than heard what had happened. He’d sensed the uneasiness in the pack and had reacted instinctively, going left then right in an effort to break away. He’d only thought about himself. In that second, he’d forgotten about Frank. About the inexperienced kid who would do what he did. Or die trying.

They’d been going around forty-two miles an hour. At that speed, any mistake was a disaster. The pictures showed the bike next to Frank’s slamming into him. Frank had lost control and gone flying into the air. He’d hit the pavement, going forty miles an hour. His spine severed, his heart still pumping blood through ripped arteries, and he’d died in seconds.

Josh didn’t remember what had made him look back, breaking one of the firmest rules of racing. Never look back. He’d seen Frank go flying with an unexpected grace, had—for a single second—seen the fear in his eyes. Then the body of his friend had hit the ground.

There had been silence then. Josh was sure the crowd had screamed, that the other riders had made noise, but all he’d heard was the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. He’d turned back, breaking the second rule of racing. He’d jumped off his bike and run to that kid lying so very still. But it was already too late.

Josh hadn’t raced since. He couldn’t. He’d been unable to train with his team members. Not because of what they’d said, but because being in the peloton made him nearly explode with fear.

Every time he got on his bike, he saw Frank’s body lying there. Every time he started to pedal, he knew he would be next, that the crash was coming any second. He’d been forced to take a leave of absence, then retire. He gave the excuse that he was making way for the younger team members, but he suspected everyone knew the truth. That he didn’t have the balls for it anymore.

Even now, he only rode alone, in the dark. Where no one could see. Where no one would be hurt but him. He faced his demons privately, taking the coward’s way out.

Now, as the lights of town grew closer and brighter, he slowed. Bit by bit, the ghosts of the past faded until he was able to draw in breath again. The workout was complete.

Tomorrow night he would do it all again: ride in the gloom, wait for the final stretch, then relive what had happened. Tomorrow night he would once again hate himself, knowing that if he’d only been in front that day, Frank would still be alive.

He pulled off the main road to a shed behind the sporting goods store he owned. He went inside and drank deeply from the bottle of water he’d brought. Then he removed his helmet and pulled on jeans and a shirt, replacing his cycling shoes with boots.

He was sweaty and flushed as he made his way back to the hotel. If anyone saw him, he or she would assume he was returning from an evening rendezvous, which was fine with him.

As for being with a woman…he hadn’t. Not in nearly a year. After his divorce, he’d slept around some, but there’d been no pleasure in it. Not for him. It was as if he wasn’t allowed to experience anything good. Penance for what had happened to Frank.

He walked back to the hotel. He would order room service, take a shower and hope that tonight he could sleep.

Once in the lobby, he avoided making eye contact as he made his way to the stairs.

“Hey, Josh. Anyone I know?”

Josh glanced toward the speaker and waved, but kept on walking. He didn’t want to have a conversation with anyone right now.

He sensed someone coming down the stairs as he went up. He glanced to his left and saw Charity. For once she wasn’t in one of her old lady dresses and boxy jackets. She’d topped jeans with a pink sweater. He had a brief impression of long legs, a narrow waist and impressive breasts before his gaze moved higher to meet her frosty stare.

He liked Charity—found her attractive, smart and funny. Under other circumstances, if he were someone else, he would want her.

No—that wasn’t right. He did want her. If things were different, he would do something about it, but he couldn’t. She deserved better.

He knew what she was thinking, what everyone thought. Better that than the truth, he told himself as he flashed her a smile and kept on moving.

* * *

CHARITY HATED FEELING stupid, especially when she had no one to blame but herself. She’d spent the weekend buried in work because it was the only way to stop thinking about Josh. Every time she wasn’t distracted, she faced a brainful of questions, all designed to make her spiral into girl craziness.

She was fascinated by him in a way that was unexpected, unfamiliar and a teeny bit obsessive. That was fine. It happened. Eventually she would get over it. During their tour of the city the previous Friday, she’d found herself actually enjoying spending time with him. She’d found him funny and charming, which was good. Having a person inside of her crush was helpful.

But something had happened on their drive. He’d changed and she was frustrated by the feeling that she’d done something wrong. She hadn’t. She knew that in her head. But try telling her active hormones that. They’d spent the entire weekend sighing dramatically, longing for just a glimpse of the man in question. Worse, Friday night he’d strolled back into the hotel looking all hot, sweaty and sexy. Which meant he’d been with someone else. Even going online and seeing dozens of pictures of him with other women hadn’t helped at all.

She could understand feeling boy crazy if she was in high school, but she was twenty-eight years old. An age when one could reasonably expect some slight maturity. After all, she had plenty of romantic disasters in her past from nice, normal men. Men she’d thought she could trust. If she’d been so desperately wrong with them, falling for Josh would be nothing short of idiotic.

Shortly before ten o’clock on Monday morning, Charity filled her coffee cup and made her way to the large conference room on the third floor for her first city council meeting.

There were already about a dozen people sitting around the large table, all of them women except for Robert. She greeted the mayor, smiled at Robert, then took a seat.

Marsha winked at her. “We’re a little less formal than most council sessions you will have attended, Charity. Don’t judge us too harshly.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Good. Now who don’t you know?” Marsha went around the table, introducing everyone.

Charity paid attention, doing her best to remember everyone’s name. Pia rushed in a minute before ten.

“I know, I know,” she said with a groan. “I’m late. So find someone else to plan the parties around here.” She sank into the chair next to Charity. “Hi. How was your weekend?” she whispered.

“Good. Quiet. Yours?”

Pia started passing out slim folders with a picture of the American flag on the front. “I worked on the plans for Fourth of July. I was thinking we could mix it up this year. Have the parade and party on the eighth.”

Alice, the police chief, rolled her eyes, but the woman next to her, someone Charity thought might be named Gladys, gasped.

“Pia, you can’t. It’s a national holiday with a tradition going back more than two hundred years.”

“She’s kidding, Gladys,” Marsha said, then sighed. “Pia, don’t try to be funny.”

“I don’t try. It just happens spontaneously. Like a sneeze.”

“Get a tissue and hold it in,” Marsha told her firmly.

“Yes, ma’am.” Pia leaned toward Charity. “She’s so bossy these days. Even Robert’s afraid.”

Charity’s gaze moved to Robert who looked more amused than frightened. He glanced at her and smiled. She smiled back, hoping for a hint of a reaction. A flicker. A whisper. A slight pressure that could be interpreted as a tingle.

There was nothing.

“We have quite a bit of business to get through this morning,” Marsha said. “And a visitor.”

“Visitors,” another woman said. “That always makes me think of that old science fiction miniseries from years ago. The Visitors. Weren’t they snakes or lizards underneath their human skin?”

“As far as I can tell, our visitor is human,” Marsha said.

The mayor was obviously a woman with infinite patience, Charity thought as the meeting continued to spiral from one subject to another.

“Now about the road repaving by the lake,” Marsha said. “I believe someone prepared a report.”

They worked their way through several items on the agenda. Charity gave a brief rundown on the meeting with the university and the fact that the letter of intent had been signed. Pia talked about the Fourth of July celebration that would indeed be held on the appropriate date, then a five-minute break was called.

Robert rose and left. The door had barely closed behind him when Gladys leaned across the table toward Charity.

“You were out with Josh the other day.”

Charity didn’t know if the words were a statement or an accusation. “We, ah… He took me on a tour of the city. The mayor suggested it.”

Marsha smiled serenely. “Just trying to make you feel welcome.”

“You don’t send Josh to see me,” Gladys complained.

“You’re already comfortable in town.”

“How was it?” another woman asked. She was petite, in her mid-forties and pretty. Renee, maybe? Or Michelle. Something vaguely French, Charity thought, wishing she’d actually written down the names as people said them.

“I really enjoyed seeing the area,” Charity said. “The vineyards are so beautiful.”

“Not the tour,” Renee/Michelle said. “Josh. You’re single, right? Wow, how I would love to spend some quality time with him.”

“Sometimes at night I see him walking around town all hot and sweaty,” Gladys said, a slight moan in her voice.

“I know,” someone else added.

Renee/Michelle glanced toward the door, as if checking to see if Robert was within earshot. “Once, he came to the spa.” She turned to Charity. “I run a day spa in town. You should come in for a massage sometime.”

“Um, sure.” She couldn’t believe they were actually talking about Josh this way.

“He wanted me to wax him.” Renee/Michelle turned back to Charity. “They all get waxed. It cuts down on air friction.” She turned her attention back to the group. “He was on the table, wearing these tiny little briefs. Man, oh man, all I can say is that the rumors about his equipment are not exaggerated.”

Renee/Michelle sagged back in her chair and sucked in a breath. “That night my husband got the best sex of his life and he never knew why.” She fanned herself with her hand.

Robert walked back into the room, a can of soda in his hand. He looked around the table, then sighed. “You’re talking about Josh, aren’t you?”

Charity resisted the urge to squirm in her seat.

“Of course,” Pia said. “We can’t help it.”

Charity wanted to snap that he was just one guy and not all that, but she was afraid she would sound like she had something to hide.

“He’s the man,” Robert said with a shake of his head.

“Some big investor back east came here and wanted to open a bike school or training camp,” Gladys said. “Josh wouldn’t do it. He said he wouldn’t exploit his fame that way.”

Most of the women in the room sighed.

Charity privately thought he probably hadn’t done it because being involved would cut into the hours he spent getting laid. If anyone here was special, it was Robert, not Josh. Robert was a regular guy, doing an honest day’s work with minimal appreciation. Sure Josh was famous and a great athlete, but he wasn’t a god. No matter what her hormones might try to tell her.

Marsha slipped on her reading glasses. “If we could get back to the subject at hand,” she said, her quiet voice instantly silencing the other chatter. “Tiffany will be here any minute and I’d prefer we be discussing something of merit when she arrives.”

“Tiffany?” Police Chief Alice asked. “Seriously?”

“Tiffany Hatcher.” Marsha scanned the paper in front of her. “She’s twenty-three and getting her Ph.D. in Human Geography. And before you ask, I went online and looked it up. It’s the study of why people settle where they settle. In other words, she’s studying why we don’t have enough men in Fool’s Gold.”

The women all looked at each other. Robert chuckled. “You have me.”

“And we’re ever so grateful,” Gladys told him. “But you’re only one man.”

“I do what I can.”

Charity tried not to laugh. He caught her eye and grinned.

Marsha sighed. “As much as I wanted to keep our problem quiet, apparently that’s not going to happen. Tiffany is very excited about the opportunity to publish her thesis when it’s finished. So the whole world is going to know.”

“Unless no one reads it,” Alice said.

“I don’t think we’ll be that lucky,” Pia said. “Men or a lack of them is sexy. The media loves sexy topics.”

“How can a lack of men be sexy?” Gladys asked.

Just then there was a timid knock on the open door. Charity turned and saw a tiny, dark-haired young woman standing in the entrance to the conference room. Marsha had said Tiffany was in her twenties, but she could easily have passed for thirteen. She had big eyes, long dark hair and an earnest expression that made Charity think she was going to be a giant pain in the butt with her questions.

“Your assistant said I should come right in,” Tiffany said apologetically.

“Of course, dear,” Marsha said, rising. “We’ve been expecting you. Everyone, this is Tiffany. She’s going to do her dissertation on why men are moving away from Fool’s Gold.”

“Actually, you’re only a chapter,” Tiffany said, her voice as tiny as the rest of her.

“Lucky us,” Charity whispered to Pia.

CHAPTER FIVE

CHARITY STEPPED INTO Angelo’s at exactly seven on Wednesday night. The Italian restaurant was within walking distance of the hotel, much like everything else in town. The outside was whitewashed, with a big patio seating area. Inside, the tables were covered with white tablecloths and the subdued lighting gave the intimate space an elegant air. A dozen different delicious smells competed for her attention, making her mouth water and her stomach growl. Her salad at lunch suddenly seemed like a long time ago.

Before she could attack a passing waiter and grab a couple of slices of rosemary bread off the tray he carried, she spotted Robert sitting at a table near the opposite wall.

“Go right in,” the hostess said with a smile. “Enjoy your dinner.”

“Thanks.”

Robert rose as she approached.

There were several other diners already in the restaurant. Maybe she was imagining things, but Charity had the sense she was being watched by those already seated.

“Are they keeping tabs on me or you?” Robert asked quietly as he held out her chair.

She laughed. “I noticed that, too.” She sat down. “I can’t decide if it’s because I’m the new girl or if it’s because you’re out on a date. What with you being a single man and therefore precious and rare.”

He settled across from her. “You think the lack of men in town is funny.”

“I don’t think it’s a great hardship for you. Poor Robert. Too many women want to be with you.”

His brown eyes brightened with amusement. “Fame can be difficult. There’s a lot of responsibility.”

She wished he hadn’t said the word fame. For some reason, it made her think of Josh, and she’d been determined he wouldn’t intrude on her evening out, even in spirit.

“You can handle it,” she said as she picked up her napkin and put it on her lap.

Their server, an older woman with dark hair pulled up in a bun, brought them menus.

“I thought we’d talk a bit before ordering,” Robert said. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

“Thank you, yes.” She grinned. “I’m walking tonight, so I can even have two.”

“Wild.”

“I have my moments.”

They both ordered a glass of the house Chianti. A few minutes later the busboy brought over a basket of bread and a saucer of olive oil for dipping.

“The bread is excellent,” Robert said, offering her the basket.

“I was afraid of that,” Charity said. “I’ll wait and try it later.” Closer to when they would get their meal, so she wouldn’t have a chance to inhale every slice. “How was your weekend with your friends?”

“Good. We went to a Giants game. They won. My friend Dan is getting married next month, so the trip was kind of a bachelor celebration.”

“I’m impressed you went with baseball and not a strip club.”

He chuckled. “We’re getting too old for that. Now if we were still in college…”

“Front row seats?”

“In our dreams.”

The server appeared with the wine. When she was gone, Robert picked up his glass. “To a great evening.”

She raised her glass, as well.

“Dan and his girlfriend already have a kid,” Robert continued. “A little girl. She’s eighteen months old. It seems like a lot of people are doing that. Have a baby, then figuring out if they want to stay together. I guess I’m old-fashioned. I thought it was supposed to go the other way.”

“I agree,” she said. “But pregnancy happens. I guess a generation ago, people got married when they found out. Now they aren’t in such a big hurry.”

He leaned toward her. “It’s been a couple of weeks. How are you settling in? Enjoying small-town life?”

“I love it. I’m meeting lots of people. I like that I can walk pretty much everywhere. You’re right. There aren’t any secrets, but then I don’t have anything to hide.”

“Then you’ll be fine. Have you started looking for a house?”

“Not really. I’m still getting to know the different areas.”

“I live on the golf course. Great views. The houses are well-built and a nice size. You should come see my place sometime.”

“Sure.” She wondered how he afforded one of those homes. She’d seen them on her drive around town and had even picked up a flyer for one. But unless the mayor had a secret plan to double her salary in the next week, Charity couldn’t begin to pay for something like that. Prices were great in Fool’s Gold, but even here a home on the golf course was pricey.

“You said you grew up in small towns,” she said. “In California?”

“Oregon. I went to school in Eugene, which is a good-sized town. Got my degree in accounting and went to work for a midsized accounting firm. Then I went into the government side of the business. After about five years, I transferred to the private sector. One of my first jobs was auditing one of Josh Golden’s companies. That brought me here.”

“Josh has companies?”

Robert raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t know?”

“No. It’s not as if we’ve spent much time together.” The tour of the city had barely been an hour. “I know he used to be some famous bike rider guy.”

Robert laughed. “There’s a description to make him proud.”

“You know what I mean. I don’t follow many sports. I’d heard about him, but nothing specific.”

“He owns several companies. The sporting goods store. He’s a partner at the ski resort, the hotel.”

She reached for her wine and nearly knocked it over. “He owns the hotel where I’m staying?”

Robert nodded.

No wonder he chose to live there, she thought, feeling embarrassed for implying he was irresponsible. “I had no idea.”

“He hired the firm I worked for and I came out to do an audit. I liked the town. When I mentioned that to Josh, he said they were looking for a treasurer. I applied and got the job.”

“It’s a long way from Oregon,” she said, still trying to take in the fact that Josh was a business mogul.

“I don’t have a lot of family. I’m an only child and my parents were a lot older when they had me.” He smiled sheepishly. “Mom always said I was a miracle.” The smile faded. “They died a few years ago. I have a cousin, but that’s about it. I figured I’d make my own family.”

“I know the feeling,” she said, surprised they had so much in common. “I was raised by my mom. I never knew my dad. My mom took off when she was pregnant, and never told me where she was from. I always wondered if I had relatives out there, somewhere. If anyone knew about us. When I lost her, I felt really alone. I wanted a place to belong.”

“So you came to Fool’s Gold?”

She nodded. “A recruiter got in touch with me. I was looking to make a change.” Mostly due to a bad breakup, but why mention that?

“I’m glad you moved here,” Robert said, his dark eyes gazing steadily into hers.

He was nice, she thought as she smiled at him. Warm and caring and he shared a lot of her goals. He was the kind of guy she was looking for. At least on the surface. If only there was some kind of physical connection between them. Something that…

The hair on the back of her neck stood up. An unexpected warmth spread through her. For one brief shining moment she thought the chemistry had finally kicked in. The second of relief was followed by a mental groan when she saw Josh walking past their table and being seated on the other side of the room. He was with Mayor Marsha and apparently here for dinner.

“Speak of the devil,” Robert said lightly, nodding at the newcomers. Marsha waved.

“The downside of small-town life?” she asked.

“I told you. No secrets. Now everyone knows we’re out together.”

She was aware of Josh sitting within her line of sight and it took every ounce of control not to stare at him.

“I don’t mind everyone knowing,” she said, forcing herself to look at Robert as if he were the most interesting man in the world. The truth was she wanted to run over to Marsha’s table, push the older woman aside and snuggle up next to Josh. The fact that he had a steady stream of women ready and willing to be on call was the only thing that kept her in her seat.

“Good,” Robert said, looking pleased. “Are you ready to order?”

“Um, sure.” She glanced at her menu, wondering how she was going to be able to eat. Acting something close to normal was going to take all her energy and attention. Honestly, when she got back to the hotel, she was going to have to figure out a way to get over this Josh thing.

She randomly picked a chicken and pasta dish, then closed the menu and reached for her wine. Inadvertently, her gaze slipped a little to the right. Josh was looking at her, his eyes bright with humor. She found herself wanting to laugh.

Reluctantly she turned her attention back to Robert, who was a very nice man. A far better bet than Josh. Apparently she was going to have to keep reminding herself of that over and over again. Eventually it would sink in. It had to.

* * *

JOSH LEANED BACK IN his chair. “You did this on purpose.”

Marsha didn’t look up from her menu. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. You’re one of the smartest people I know.”

She set down the menu. “And let me say how much I appreciate you saying people and not women.”

“You’re welcome, but not the point. You knew Robert and Charity were coming here for dinner.”

“Did I?” Marsha managed to look both innocent and smug at the same time. “Are they here? I didn’t notice.”

Josh knew better. “You asked for this table. You wanted me facing her.”

Marsha smoothed her white hair. “I am a very busy woman, Josh. I don’t have time to worry about your latest conquest, however interesting she might be.”

“Don’t play matchmaker.”

“Afraid it might work?”

The real problem was he didn’t want to hurt his friend. Marsha had been good to him and he owed her. “Setting up people never goes well. Don’t you watch reality television?”

“No,” she said. “And neither do you. Why don’t you like Charity?”

He studied the woman in question. Despite the fact that she was on a date, she was still dressed like a conservative schoolteacher. A plain dress, buttoned all the way to the collar. The loose fit and boxy jacket revealed nothing. Did she lack confidence or feel she had something to hide?

He found himself wanting to know which, nearly as much as he wanted to slowly unfasten each and every button and reveal the smooth, warm skin underneath. Just as troubling, he found himself wanting to talk to her. Just talk.

Not gonna happen, he reminded himself. At least sex was safe. But getting involved? No way.

“I like her fine,” he said.

“But?”

“She’s not my type.”

“You don’t have a type. That would require being picky.”

He raised his eyebrows.

Marsha sighed. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out. It’s just you haven’t gotten serious about anyone since Angelique. The divorce was over two years ago. It’s time to move on.”

His lack of dating or interest in dating had nothing to do with Angelique, but he wasn’t going to tell Marsha that.

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re lonely. And don’t pretend otherwise. I’m old and you have to respect me.”

“Even when you’re wrong?”

She stared at him, her blue eyes unyielding. “Then tell me I’m wrong. Lie to me, if you can.”

He couldn’t and she knew it. “Charity’s looking for something I can’t give her.”

“Such as?”

He shrugged. “She’s not the one.”

“You can’t know that until you’ve spent some time with her.”

“Can you be bought off?”

“How much are you offering?” She shook her head. “I’ll stop pushing. At least for now. You know I care about you, right?”

“I do.” He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “You’ve always supported me.”

“I just want you to be happy. Men don’t do well alone. You need someone in your life. I think Charity needs someone, too. She hasn’t said anything, but if I had to guess, I would say she’s coming off a bad breakup. So she would understand.”

“About the divorce?”

Marsha nodded.

What his friend didn’t get was that the problem wasn’t his divorce. That was just a symptom of everything that had gone wrong.

The truth was, he’d enjoyed a lot about the theory of being married. He was basically a homebody. Angelique had wanted to go out more nights than not, but his best times with her had been spent with just the two of them. He wanted that again—a connection, the familiarity of knowing everything about someone. He’d always thought he would be just like everyone else, with a wife and a couple of kids.

But until he fixed what was wrong inside of him, until he was whole again, he couldn’t be with anyone. He wasn’t asking to rule the world, just be the man he’d been before.

“I’ll be quiet now,” Marsha told him.

“If only that were true.”

She laughed.

Josh felt his gaze slipping over Marsha’s shoulder, where he could see Charity speaking intently with Robert.

They looked like they belonged together, like they could be a couple. Charity would be better off with someone like Robert. A regular guy without a lot of baggage. Without the ghosts that kept him always searching for an answer he could never find.

* * *

THE REST OF CHARITY’S week flew by in a blur of meetings and planning. She’d managed to set up an initial conversation with a large hospital that was thinking of expanding. She was determined to convince them that Fool’s Gold was the best possible location for them.

By late Friday she was tired and oddly restless. She tried to watch television and when that didn’t work, she went downstairs where the hotel kept a small library of DVDs. None of them appealed. On a whim, Charity went back to her room, grabbed a green hoodie and headed outside.

It was a little after nine, dark and cool, but warmer than it had been. Spring had finally arrived, chasing away the last of the below-freezing temperatures. Streetlights flooded the sidewalks and made her feel safe, as did the women she saw who were out and about. There weren’t a lot but she knew several of them by sight, if not by name.

She walked by the bookstore but Morgan was long gone. She usually saw him sweeping his front porch and stopped to talk at least a couple of times a week. Knowing he was a part of the landscape of Fool’s Gold made her feel as if she’d made the right decision to move here.

She crossed the street to walk by the park. Even in the dark she could see the shapes of the spring flowers waving slightly in the light breeze.

Tomorrow night she had a date with Robert. They were going to Margaritaville, and while she appreciated the invitation, when he’d mentioned the restaurant, all she’d been able to think about was Josh warning her about the margaritas with extra shots.

It wasn’t Robert’s fault, she reminded herself. Josh was practically larger than life, a force of nature. Someone normal and nice could easily get overlooked. She was determined to make sure that didn’t happen.

She continued to walk by the park. Across the street was the sporting goods store. A flash of movement caught her eye and she stopped when she saw someone riding a bike up the paved driveway beside the store and circle around back. The rider looked amazingly like Josh, except he’d told her he never rode anymore.

Charity crossed the street. She had to be mistaken. Why would he tell her he didn’t ride if he did? What was the big deal? So it was someone else. She just wanted to make sure.

As she rounded the back of the building, she saw a small shed tucked in the trees. The door stood open. As she watched, a man finished pulling on jeans. He drew a sweatshirt on over his head and stepped into boots.

The overhead bulb wasn’t very bright but it gave off enough light for her to identify the man. Josh looked up and saw her.

“You said you didn’t ride,” she told him, blurting out the first thing that came to her.

“I didn’t know you were going to spy on me.” He stepped out of the shed. After closing the door, he locked it behind him, then walked toward her.

He was flushed and sweating, his breathing a little fast, as if he’d just finishing a grueling workout. Nothing about this made sense, but the far more interesting fact was that her curiosity seemed to be enough of a distraction that she could control her reaction to him. Or at least keep it more manageable. The tingles were still there, as was the awareness. But she wanted to know what was going on nearly as much as she wanted to rub against him and purr.

Progress, she thought happily. Maybe in time she would be able to have an entire conversation without hearing her hormones chanting.

“I wasn’t spying,” she said, still confused by his actions. “I saw you go riding by. At least I thought it was you.” The pieces all fell together. “Is this what you do every night? Ride? Are you coming back to the hotel tired and sweaty from exercise? You know, everyone thinks you’re off having sex.”

“Including you?”

“I’m not the one who had a girl waiting in my room.”

He flashed her that killer smile and her knees went weak.

“People would talk if you did,” he said. “In a different way than how they talk about me.”

“I’m sure that’s true.” She studied him in the lamplight. He looked good. Not that she thought there was a time when Josh didn’t. “Everyone said there weren’t any secrets in Fool’s Gold.”

“Then this is the only one.”

“Why do you ride at night?”

He stared at her, as if judging…no, not judging. Gauging. But what? If she could be trusted? If she was really interested? She found herself wanting to urge him to believe in her. She wanted to say she would never let him down.

That was the hormones talking, she told herself, even as she continued to hope he would explain himself.

“I ride at night because riding during the day isn’t an option.”

* * *

JOSH HADN’T BEEN SURE he would tell her, but now he’d started and there was no going back.

Maybe he wanted someone to know his guilty secret. Maybe it was how she looked in her jeans and hoodie, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Less proper, more approachable. Not that he’d ever been intimidated by a woman. Maybe it was the way she stared at him as if she really wanted to understand.

She already didn’t think very much of him. Telling her wouldn’t change anything.

“How much do you know about me?” he asked.

She groaned. “Tell me this isn’t about your ego, because if it is…”

“That’s not what I meant. How much do you know about the riding, and why I stopped?”

“You retired. You said so. It’s a young man’s game.”

“Nothing else?”

“Is there more?”

“There’s always more.”

He moved toward the sidewalk. She kept pace with him.

“I ride at night because I don’t want anyone to know I’m still riding. If people see me, they’ll ask questions. They’ll want me to be in charity races or consider going back to it and I can’t.”

“Why not? Are you injured?”

“A kid crashed during my last race. He was a teammate. I was supposed to look out for him. He crashed and he died.”

“Do you blame yourself for that?”

“In part.”

“Was it your fault?”

He stopped walking and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “You ever see a pack go down? One guy wobbles, bumps another and it’s all over for everyone. The only thing you can do is save yourself. I got out and Frank didn’t.”

Once again he saw his friend flying through the air. He heard the sickening sound of Frank’s body hitting the road.

She stared up at him, her brown eyes dark and questioning in the night. “But you didn’t have anything to do with the crash, right?”

“No.”

“And you didn’t cause him to go down.”

He shook his head.

“Then it’s not that you killed him.”

She made a statement rather than asking a question.

Impressive, he thought, surprised she’d already figured it out. A few of his buddies had come to talk to him, trying to get him to join them again. They told him it wasn’t his fault, that no one blamed him. They all thought it was about guilt.

In a way they were right—the guilt was there. Strong. Powerful. It chased him, doing its best to suck him down. But it wasn’t the real problem.

“I can’t ride with anyone else,” he said quietly, staring over her head, at the black sky. “I can’t be next to another rider without losing it. I panic, like a little girl. I can’t breathe, I shake.”

“Isn’t that just anxiety? Can’t you talk to someone or take something?”

“Probably, but you can’t ride professionally if you’re weak or drugged.”

“This isn’t about being weak.”

“Sure it is.” It was about being weak and broken and humiliated. It was about failing. “From what you see and know, this is a sport of individuals, right? But it’s not really that way. There are teams. We ride in groups, in a pack. I can’t do any of that. I couldn’t go riding with you without falling apart. The need, the fire, is still inside of me, but I can’t reach it or touch it.

Whatever was there is buried in a pile of shit so deep, I’ll never be able to dig it out.”

He thought she would step back then. Turn away in disgust. That’s what Angelique had done. Curled her perfect lip at him and said she wasn’t interested in a coward for a husband. She wanted a real man. Then she’d walked out.

He’d bared his deepest flaw, had exposed his soul and she’d left. That’s what people did. They left when you were broken. His mother had taught him that.

Charity surprised him. She continued to stare at him, then she shook her head. “I don’t believe you. If that fire is there, it’ll find a way.”

If only, he thought grimly. “Want to tell me when?

I have a life to get back to.”

“You mean you’re not content living as a small-town god?”

“Deity status aside, I don’t want to end my career like this.” A loser. Afraid.

“Not to get too metaphysical on you, but maybe there’s a reason this happened.”

“If that’s true, then so is that old saying. Payback’s a bitch.” He shrugged. “It’s okay, Charity. This isn’t your problem. Go ahead and tell me that I’ll figure it out and be fine.”

“That won’t solve anything.”

“But you’ll feel better.”

“I felt fine before.”

She started toward the hotel. He walked with her.

“You like that they think you’re out having sex with fifty different women a night,” she said.

“It beats the truth.” He jerked his head toward the buildings next to them. “I grew up here. The good people of Fool’s Gold have a lot invested in me. I don’t want them to know the truth.”

“There’s nothing bad here. You had a very natural reaction to a horrible circumstance.”

“I got spooked during a race. It’s not like I faced sniper fire in a war.”

“You’re too hard on yourself.”

“Not possible.”

“Oh, please. Don’t be such a guy.”

“If I wasn’t, my reputation would be even more interesting.”

She laughed. The sweet sound carried on the night.

She was easy to be with, he thought. Nice. Down to earth. She hadn’t bolted, which he appreciated and he believed she wouldn’t tell anyone what he’d told her.

When they were within sight of the hotel, he stopped. “You go on ahead.”

“Why?”

“Do you want people to think we were together?”

“We were just walking.”

“Come on, Charity. You’ve been in town what—three weeks? You really believe that’s what they’ll tell each other?”

“Probably not.”

He raised his eyebrows.

She smiled. “Definitely not. Okay. Point taken. I’ll go first.”

She took a step, then turned back. “They love you. They would understand.”

“They love the guy on the poster.”

“They might surprise you.”

“Not in a good way.”

“I didn’t know you were a cynic.”

“I’m a realist,” he told her. “And so are you.”

“I think you’re underestimating their affection.”

“It’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”

She started to say something, then shook her head and walked across the street.

He watched her go. The sway of her hips drew his gaze to her butt. She was pretty in a quiet kind of way. Hers was a beauty that would age well. Before, when he’d really been Josh Golden, he could have had her in a heartbeat. The irony was back then he wouldn’t have slowed down long enough to notice her.

Life sure had a sense of humor.

CHAPTER SIX

CHARITY DID EVERYTHING she could think of to prep for her meeting with the hospital committee. This was her first real chance to prove herself and she wanted everything to go perfectly.

She’d loaded her presentation on her new laptop and then had backed it up on Robert’s, just in case. She’d researched the competing locations, checked for large, recent donations and walked the proposed site herself. She felt comfortable with the information and ready to make her case.

At exactly nine-thirty on Tuesday morning, eight people walked into the conference room. Charity was ready for them.

Mayor Marsha spoke first, welcoming them to Fool’s Gold and assuring everyone how much the town wanted the new hospital campus. Marsha went over a few of the more important facts—the tax breaks, the incredibly reasonable price of the land, the grants they’d already made progress on.

Marsha and Charity had spent most of the previous day going over what each of them would say, so Charity was prepared for each of Marsha’s points. The mayor finished with a joke about the golf courses in the area, which was Charity’s signal that it was her turn.

From her research she knew that of the eight members on the committee, the real powerhouse was Dr. Daniels. A trauma care doctor used to dealing with impossible situations, he liked to get to the point, make a decision and move on. He considered serving on the committee a waste of his important time, so he wanted the business settled quickly. Charity planned to use that to her advantage.

She passed out folders, then flipped on her computer.

“I know you’re all very busy,” she began. “So I want to first thank you for taking the time to come to Fool’s Gold. My goal is to provide you with the information you need to make the right decision for your hospital expansion.” She paused to smile. “And explain to each of you why Fool’s Gold is the right place at the right time. Not only do we offer excellent housing for your staff, superior schools for your children and a warm and welcoming community filled with qualified workers, we simply want you here more. We’re determined to do whatever is necessary to convince you that this is exactly where your hospital needs to be.”

She began her PowerPoint presentation, clicking through several glossy photos of the area. The real meat of the meeting came next, with plenty of statistics on skilled labor, potential patients and quality-of-life issues. For Dr. Daniels, she threw in a mini sales pitch.

“We’re in desperate need of trauma care,” she said as she clicked to display another graph. “We might not get the gunshot wounds of a gang-infested city, but we have other issues. Skiing and hiking accidents on the mountains, car accidents, especially during winter and tourist seasons. Last year three rock climbers fell. Two died before they could reach the trauma center in San Francisco. If we’d had our own trauma center, those two young men would still be alive today.”

She moved on to the number of births per year, illustrating the need for a new maternity center. By noon she’d gone through all the details she and Marsha had decided were necessary.

“If you’ll come with me, we have lunch set up downstairs,” she said, motioning to the door. “At one o’clock, we’ll take you on a tour of the area and have you on the road by two, as you requested.”

Everyone rose and started out of the room. Dr. Daniels, a handsome man in his mid forties, paused. “You listened. We told each of the towns we wanted to be done by two. One of the other places kept us until five, the other got us out at four-thirty.”

Charity shrugged. “A partnership has to go both ways. Of course there’s more I want you to see and hear, but I respect your time. We have a lot to offer, Dr. Daniels. I hope you’ll give us the opportunity to show you that.”

“I see that. An excellent presentation. I’m impressed.”

“Then I did my job.”

* * *

JOSH LEFT THE HOTEL a little after seven in the evening. It was early for him to go riding, what with the days getting longer, but he was restless. Normally he enjoyed his quarters at the hotel, but lately they’d felt confining. He could always move into one of the houses he owned. At any given time one of the rentals was usually available. But what would he do in a house all on his own?

He walked through the center of town, then stopped across the street from Jo’s Bar. The place had been there for years. There had been a dozen or so owners in the past decade. The location worked but the owners never seemed to make a go of it. Then three years ago Josephine Torrelli had shown up and bought the place. She’d hired a crew of construction guys, demolished the place down to the beams and built it up to look like a quiet, welcoming neighborhood bar that catered primarily to women. There were a couple of big TVs showing reality TV and home shopping for the largely female crowd. All the guys got were a couple of TVs over the long bar and well-priced beer.

There were a lot of rumors about Jo. Some said she was a former child star with money to burn. She’d certainly had plenty to sink into the remodel. Others said she was running from an abusive husband and using an assumed name. A few believed she was a mafia princess determined to make it far away from her east-coast family.

Josh suspected the latter was the most likely story. Jo, a pretty woman in her mid-thirties, seemed to know a little too much about life to have been raised in the ’burbs. He knew she kept a loaded gun behind the bar, and when a fight had broken out last year, she’d looked more than ready to use it. Which also gave credence to the abusive husband story, he thought as he crossed the street and walked into the bar.

The place was well lit without breaking the mood. Baseball played on the small TVs. Giants on one, Oakland on the other. A few die-hard Dodger fans huddled around one of the smaller screens. The larger flat screen showed skinny models walking down a runway. There were several groups of women around round tables and balloons proclaiming it was someone’s birthday. A few guys played pool at the lone table in the back.

Several of the customers greeted him. He waved and made his way to the bar.

“Beer,” he told Jo before turning to watch the Giants. A commercial filled the screen. He looked away, glancing at the women at tables, about to face the bar again, when he saw someone he knew in a corner.

Ethan Hendrix sat with one of his brothers and a third guy. Josh stiffened. This seemed his week for dealing with the past, he thought grimly.

In a perfect world he would walk over to Ethan and they would talk. The past had been over for years. It was time to get over it. He’d phoned Ethan a few times over the past couple of years, but his old friend had never returned the calls. Now he couldn’t seem to move and Ethan never glanced in his direction. Then Jo was putting a beer in front of him.

He took a sip.

“Good,” he said. “Where’s it from?”

“A microbrewery in Oregon. South of Portland. The guy came through with samples. You have to respect that. Apparently he travels up and down the west coast, trying to get places to take his beer.”

“Does that make you a sucker for a sad story?”

She grinned. “Maybe. What of it? You ready to take me on, Golden?”

“And get beaten by a girl? No, thanks.”

“You know it. I’m tough to the bone. Ethan’s here,” she added, speaking low enough that only he could hear.

“I saw that.”

“You could talk to him.”

“I could.”

He didn’t question how Jo, who had only been in town three years, knew about his past with Ethan. Jo had a way of finding out things.

“You’re both idiots,” she said. “In case you were wondering. He’s as bad as you, acting all pouty.”

Josh chuckled. “There’s ten bucks in it for you if you say that to his face.”

“I don’t need the money. You’re wallowing in guilt and he’s playing the martyr. It’s like living in the middle of Hamlet.”

He frowned. “How do you figure?”

“I don’t know. It’s the only Shakespearean play I could think of. Well, there’s always Romeo and Juliet, but that doesn’t fit. You know what I mean. Just go talk to him.”

She was right, he told himself, as he put down his beer. He would walk over and…

He turned on the stool, but Ethan and his friends were gone, the table empty.

“Next time,” Jo said when he faced her again.

“Sure. Next time.”

She moved on to another customer. Josh sipped his beer, thinking about Ethan, wondering how things would have been different if he’d been the one injured instead of his friend. He had a feeling Ethan wouldn’t have lost his nerve. He would still be racing.

The pool game finished up. One of the guys walked toward Josh and sat next to him at the bar.

“Hey, Josh.”

“Mark.”

“You still thinking of heading to France this summer? We could use another win.”

Sure. Because that’s how it happened. A person woke up one morning and thought “I’m going to enter the Tour de France” and that was it.

“Not this year. I’m still retired.”

Mark, a plumber in town, punched him in the arm. “You’re too young to retire, but not too rich. Am I right?”

Josh nodded and smiled, then wondered why he’d bothered to come into the bar.

He wasn’t interested in winning another race. At this point, he simply wanted the ability to compete. To do what he did before. What he took for granted.

“My kid’s pretty good,” Mark said when Jo handed him a beer. “Fast on his bike. He wants to race. You know, like you did. We’re thinking of sending him to one of those schools. He’s begging me every day.”

“There are a couple of good places. How old is he?”

“Fourteen.”

“That’s kind of young.”

“That’s what his mom and I say. He’s too young to be on his own. But he won’t leave it alone. Weren’t you going to open a racing school here, in town?”

That had been the plan—back before the accident. Josh had several bids on construction, most of the money and his eye on a piece of property. But to do that, to commit himself to being a part of the school, meant riding again. Not a humiliation he was willing to take on right now.

“I’ve thought about it,” he admitted, then wished he hadn’t.

“You should do it. Solve our problem. You’re famous, man. Lots of people would come to ride with you. I bet they’d do a story about you on CNN.”

That’s what he was afraid of, Josh thought grimly.

“Something to think about,” he said and drained his beer. He dropped a few bills on the counter, then stood. “See you, Mark.”

“Yeah. Think about it. The racing school. It could be great.”

It could, Josh thought as he left the bar and headed back to the hotel. It could be a damned miracle. Because that’s what it would take.

* * *

WEDNESDAY NIGHT CHARITY followed the directions Pia had given her, walking to the west part of town where the houses were older and larger, seated majestically on huge lots with mature trees. She saw the well-lit two story on the corner and walked up to the front door.

Pia opened it before she could knock. “You came. Welcome.” Pia giggled. “Okay, I brought tequila and margarita mix and I’ve been sampling. What the hell. We’re all walking, so let’s have fun.”

Tequila? “I just brought a couple of bottles of wine,” Charity said, wondering what she’d gotten herself into. Girls’ night out had sounded like fun, but she couldn’t afford to get really drunk. She had meetings in the morning.

“Wine is great,” Pia said, swaying slightly, then grabbing the door frame for support. “Maybe I’ll have some.”

A tall, pretty brunette appeared behind Pia and wrapped an arm around her waist. “You need to lie down, kid.”

“I’m fine,” Pia said. “Don’t I look fine to you? I feel fine.”

The woman smiled at Charity. “Don’t be frightened. Every now and then Pia feels the need to live up to the party image. It’s not a big deal.”

“I can respect that,” Charity said.

“Me, too. I’m Jo, your hostess for this month’s girls’ night. Come on in.”

“I’m Charity.”

“I figured that. We’re glad to have you.” Jo maneuvered Pia away from the door.

Charity followed the two of them into the house.

It was one of those great old places, with hardwood floors and plenty of built-ins. She suspected what had once been a lot of little rooms had been remodeled into several larger rooms. A fireplace large enough to hold an entire cow dominated the far wall. There were several sofas, comfy-looking chairs and a group of women looking at her curiously.

A thin blonde stood and reached for Pia. “You sit by me,” she said. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Just for tonight,” Pia said, slumping down on a sofa. “Tomorrow I take care of you.”

“Tomorrow you’ll be puking your guts out.” The woman smiled at Charity. “Hi. I’m Crystal.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Charity was introduced to the other women and did her best to remember their names. Renee/Michelle was there and Charity was surprised to learn her name was actually Desiree. When the introductions were finished, Jo led Charity into the kitchen.

“You can see what’s open, what’s in the blender and what you can create on your own.”

The kitchen had been partially updated. The counters and sink appeared new, but the stove was from the forties and the cabinets looked like they might have been original.

“Great place,” Charity said.

“I like it. I know it’s big for just me, but I enjoy the space.” She pointed to the array of bottles on the counter. “Wine, both colors, margaritas in the blender, unless Pia drank them all. Mixers, vodka, Bailey’s. You name it, we have it.”

“I’ll go with a glass of wine,” Charity said.

“Playing it safe on your first night. Probably wise. Pick a color.”

“White.”

Jo got a glass and poured. After she handed it to Charity, she leaned against the counter. “So you’re our new city planner. How are you liking Fool’s Gold?”

“I love it here. All my small-town fantasies are coming true.”

Jo laughed. “I moved here about three years ago. From the east coast. It was quite a change, but a good one. The people are friendly. Pia invited me to join her and her friends. They made me feel very welcome.”

Charity glanced toward the living room. “I appreciate the invitation. I want to get to know people.”

“You will.”

A pretty blonde walked into the kitchen and sighed. “I need more. Pia’s drunker than me and I was supposed to be the drunkest one at the party.” She smiled at Charity. “Hi, I’m Katie and please don’t think badly of me.”

“I won’t.”

“I don’t usually drink very much.”

“Or at all,” Jo muttered. “Speaking as someone who owns a bar, you’re a real disappointment in that department.”

“I know.” Katie leaned against the counter. “But tonight’s different. My sister’s getting married.”

Charity felt confused. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“The groom and I were dating when they met. For nearly a year. He’d bought me an engagement ring. But before he gave it to me, he met my sister and they kicked me to the curb.”

“Ouch,” Charity said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He was a jerk,” Katie told her.

Charity had a feeling that was the alcohol talking more than her heart.

“The worst part is that the wedding is a four-day party up at the Lodge,” Jo added.

“I need a date and I don’t have one.” Katie hiccupped softly.

“There’s always Josh,” Jo offered.

Katie rolled her eyes. “I need a date with a guy people will believe I’m actually seeing. There’s no one. And now my mother is offering to set me up with her best friend’s son. Howie.”

Charity tried to muffle a laugh. “Okay, it’s not a traditionally romantic name, but he could be great.”

“I met him back when we were kids. He’s a total nerd, and not in a good way. We hated each other, and I get to spend four days with him. Someone just shoot me now.”

“How about another margarita?” Jo asked.

“That works, too.” Katie looked at Charity. “Are you happily married or dating? Because I’ll warn you—in this crowd, you’d be the only one.”

“Sorry, no. I have a string of bad breakups, as well.”

“Bummer,” Katie mumbled. “What’s wrong with us?”

“Nothing,” Jo said firmly. “You don’t need a man to be happy.”

“Try telling that to my whoo-whoo. It hasn’t seen action in nearly a year.”

Now Charity did laugh. Fortunately Katie didn’t seem to notice.

“There’s Crystal,” she said. “At least she was happy before.”

Jo poured another drink. “Crystal’s husband was killed in Iraq.” She glanced toward the doorway, then lowered her voice. “She’s sick. Cancer. So she doesn’t drink. Just so you don’t offer her anything.”

Charity thought about Pia’s friend. “She looks fine.”

“Right now things are good. We’re hoping the treatment can kill the cancer without taking her, too.”

“How awful. Does she have children?” Bad enough for them to lose their father, but now to be worried about their mother.

“Not exactly.”

Charity would have blamed her confusion on the wine, only she hadn’t yet taken a sip. “What do you mean?”

“They froze some embryos before her husband went off to Iraq. Just in case. She was planning to have them implanted, but the lymphoma was discovered during the routine physical. She wants to get better so she can have her babies.” Jo poured herself a glass of red. “Sometimes, life’s a bitch.”

Charity didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“We all are and there’s nothing any of us can do. That’s the worst part. Well, not for Crystal, obviously.” Jo shook her head. “I think I’ve had too much to drink. I don’t usually go on like this. Come on. Let’s get back to the girls.”

Charity followed Jo and Katie into the living room where she did her best not to stare at Crystal. Talk about sad.

“Are you enjoying Fool’s Gold?” one of the women asked.

“No one cares about that,” Desiree said with a laugh. “I want to know what she thinks of Josh.”

The room went silent as every pair of eyes focused on Charity. She froze, her glass of wine halfway to her lips.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re living at that hotel with him,” Desiree said with a laugh. “Tell us everything.”

Charity put down the wine. “I, ah, don’t live with him. I have a room at the hotel.” There was no way she was going to mention they were in rooms right next to each other. Talk about trouble. “I’ve met him a few times and he seems nice.”

“Have you gone out on a date?” one woman asked.

“No. Of course not.”

Jo rolled her eyes. “Charity’s new to our evil ways. Don’t scare her off the first night. There hasn’t been much news on the Josh front lately, so they’re hungry for gossip about their favorite topic.”

“He’s a favorite topic?”

Nearly everyone laughed. Even Crystal chuckled.

“He’s gorgeous,” Desiree said with a sigh. “That face, that body.”

“That butt,” Pia muttered from the couch.

“She lives,” Jo said. “Hang in there, honey. It’ll get worse before it gets better, but you’ll survive.”

“There are other good-looking men in town,” Charity said.

“Maybe. But no one is like Josh,” Desiree told her. “It seems like he hasn’t had a real fling in a while.”

“There was that ski instructor,” Crystal said.

“That was last year. I can’t think of anyone.” Desiree looked hopefully at Charity. “Unless you want to confess something.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but we’ve barely had any contact.” No way she was going to rat him out, she thought. This was a tough crowd. “Besides, I don’t think I’m his type.”

“If you’re female, you’re his type,” a woman across the room said.

Everyone laughed.

Not true, Charity thought, remembering the pain in Josh’s eyes. He’d been right—the town did have high expectations. A case could be made that they were completely unrealistic. No wonder he didn’t want to expose any weakness.

“She’s really not,” Pia said, pushing herself into a more stable seated position. “You could be, but you’re not.”

Charity didn’t know how to take that. “Meaning?”

“You dress, like, so plain. Those boxy dresses and jackets. I know you need to look professional for work, but dear God. Show a little skin.”

Crystal put her arm around Pia and whispered something in her ear. She smiled apologetically at Charity. “She’s not herself.”

Charity smiled back, but on the inside, she was squirming. What was wrong with her clothes? Of course she dressed conservatively. She was representing the town.

She told herself Pia was drunk and that her comments didn’t mean anything, but that didn’t stop Charity from blushing and wishing she could bolt for freedom. No one was looking at her, but the lack of attention was so pointed, it was as if everyone was staring at her.

Jo made a comment about a movie opening on Friday and conversation shifted. After a few minutes, Charity excused herself to use the restroom.

Once inside, she locked the door, then leaned against it, as if she had to catch her breath. After a moment, she walked toward the mirror and studied her reflection.

She could only see herself from the waist up. Although she’d gone back to the hotel before coming here, she hadn’t bothered to change, so she was still in the long-sleeved dress she’d worn all day.

The fabric was a cotton blend, in solid navy. A case could be made that it was a little too big, but she preferred her clothing loose. The jacket she’d worn with it was a tad boxy, but well-tailored.

As usual, she’d blown out her brown wavy hair until it was straight, then pulled it back into a braid. She wore small gold hoops, minimal makeup and a plain inexpensive watch. As she continued to study herself, she realized the best she could come up with was that she was clean.

“When did I start dressing like someone in her eighties?” she demanded, then realized she was doing seniors a disservice.

She sat on the edge of the tub and rubbed her temples. After graduating from college, she’d found a great job in Seattle. She’d been the youngest person on the mayor’s staff and had found herself being dismissed whenever she made a suggestion. When she dressed older and went for a more conservative look, she’d been taken more seriously.

When she’d moved to Henderson, a suburb of Las Vegas, she’d continued to wear clothes more suited to someone a couple of decades older. That had worked for her. But somewhere along the way, she’d lost herself in the look. She’d stopped paying attention to herself. Maybe she’d stopped caring.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. Charity stood and smoothed the front of her dress.

She opened the door and was surprised to see Crystal standing there.

“I don’t mean to pry or anything,” the other woman said. “But are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Pia is actually really nice. I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by what she said.”

Charity stepped into the hallway and tried to smile. “I know. It’s the heartache and margaritas talking. Not that she wasn’t speaking the truth. I’m frumpy and I can’t figure out exactly how I let that happen. Or when!”

“They say acknowledging the problem is the first step in healing.” Crystal’s blue eyes danced with humor as she spoke. “You’re really pretty. You just need to play up your assets.”

“I need a new wardrobe.” She brushed the front of her dress again, feeling self-conscious about the old-fashioned fit.

“Easily done. That’s why we all have credit cards.”

“I’ve been letting mine get dusty for far too long.”

“Then you should go shopping this weekend.”

“Believe me, I will.”

“Good for you,” Crystal told her. “Retail therapy is the best kind.”

They walked toward the kitchen. Charity found herself not wanting to go back to the group. The need to run and hide was fairly powerful and not very comfortable. But before she could think of an excuse, Crystal spoke.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“We have a fundraiser every year called Race for the Cure. We support childhood diseases, mostly cancer. I’m on the committee and we’re heading into our busy time. I can’t…” She glanced away and cleared her throat. “I’m really busy and don’t have the time I need. Anyway, I was wondering if I could talk you into taking my place.”

Charity was grateful Jo had told her about Crystal’s illness. With that information, she knew how to avoid misstepping.

“I’d love to be a part of that,” she said.

Crystal looked surprised. “I was prepared to twist your arm and everything.”

“I want to get involved with the community,” she said. “This gives me a perfect way to do something good while meeting people.”

“Then we both win,” Crystal said. “Thank you.”

A burst of laughter came from the living room.

“Looks like we’re missing the party,” Crystal said. “Shall we?”

Charity nodded and followed her back into the crowded room. She was determined to ignore her feelings of frumpiness, all of which could be healed fairly easily. Better to spend her time getting to know the women here. She wanted to fit in, and friends would make the transition easier.

Jo handed her the glass of white wine. “You’re way behind us on the drinking, young lady.”

“Then I’d better catch up.”

* * *

THREE HOURS LATER, Charity made her way back to the hotel. She was in a much more mellow mood, the result of plenty of laughter and maybe a bit too much wine. The women had been a lot of fun, she thought. Jo was great, as was Crystal. Katie had kept them laughing with stories about the potential disaster that was Howie. And Charity had let go her sense of living as a fashion don’t. She would go shopping over the weekend and see what people her age wore when they weren’t trying out for a religious order.

She reached the hotel and thought briefly about taking the elevator to the third floor. But she was determined to walk off the nacho calories she’d eaten at Jo’s.

On the second floor, she walked to the smaller staircase that would take her to the third. She’d barely taken two steps, when the lights went out.

The darkness was as absolute as it was unexpected. Charity heard doors open on the floor below and above, and people talking. There was more laughter than panic in their voices.

She kept hold of the railing and carefully continued to climb to her floor. Once there, she would probably be able to find her way to her room. Not that she was sure she could get in. Did a card key lock work off a battery or electricity?

When she neared what she thought was the top of the stairs, she went more slowly. She felt carefully with her foot, took another step and bumped into something warm and solid and male.

It took her brain less than a second to register the heat, size and scent of the man. Her belly flipped over, her thighs began to hum softly as her fingers curled tighter around the banister.

“You all right, Charity?” Josh asked.

Surprise joined the other sensations. “How did you know it was me?”

“Your perfume.”

Actually it was her hair conditioner, but saying that made her sound as conservative as her clothes, so she kept quiet.

“Don’t worry. The power will be on in a few minutes,” he said as he put his hand on hers. “You’re right by the top. Just one more step.”

She eased upward, propelled by desire as much as by muscle. When she was close to Josh, even floating seemed possible. Which meant she was in worse shape than she’d thought.

It was the wine, she told herself. She wasn’t herself. But maybe being herself was the problem. After all, every guy she’d ever cared about had treated her badly. They’d cheated or stolen and Ted had beaten her up. Just once, she reminded herself sternly. She’d left as soon as she’d picked herself up off the floor. Grabbed her purse and walked out, never once considering that she would go back.

“Charity?” Josh sounded puzzled. “You okay?”

“Yes. Sorry. Just thinking. I was at Jo’s and…”

He laughed. “Girls’ night out. Or in. Never mind. I know what happened. Margaritas?”

“White wine. Although Pia was doing the tequila thing.”

He put his arm around her as they moved into the hall. “Can you walk?”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Just happy?”

She was now, standing so close to him, feeling the strength of his body. He was the kind of guy who could sweep a woman up in his arms without breaking a sweat.

“I’m happy,” she whispered.

She sensed movement. In the darkness, it was hard to tell. But it felt like Josh wasn’t next to her anymore. That he was in front of her, and standing very, very close.

Fingertips lightly touched her cheek. The contact was delicious and she couldn’t help the little sigh that escaped her lips.

“You have no idea,” he murmured.

“About what?”

Instead of answering, he pressed his mouth to hers.

The contact was warm and firm and soft and just demanding enough. He kissed with an ease she couldn’t explain but knew meant he really liked the kissing thing. It wasn’t just a required step on the road to what he really wanted.

She probably should have been shocked, but she wasn’t. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was simply time to let the hormones do their thing. They’d sure been bugging her enough. So she relaxed against Josh, wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself over to every erotic sensation pouring through her.

He dropped his hands to her waist and pulled her closer. She went willingly, closing those last few inches separating them. She parted her lips and he swept inside, touching her tongue with his.

Desire raced through her. She could barely keep herself from begging. He tasted like the chocolate mints that were left on her pillow every night and something a little stronger. Maybe Scotch.

She burned inside, the need bigger than she’d imagined possible. Her breasts ached. That place between her thighs was swollen with need. Even as she kissed him back, stroking, learning, yielding, she wanted to ease him closer to her room. She wanted him naked, inside of her, taking her just as hard as she took him.

The image was so clear, it was if they were already together. Muscles tensed in anticipation of her release. Her reaction was so powerful, it frightened her and she drew back. A heartbeat later, the lights went on.

They were in the third floor hallway. A few people stood in their doorways, and they applauded the return of modern life. Charity could only stare into Josh’s hazel-green eyes, wondering if hers were as bright, as filled with passion.

She knew what he was going to say. Or ask. Both their rooms were only a few feet away. But as much as she wanted him, she knew she couldn’t be one of the millions. Not and still have a little pride in the morning. Turning him down seemed impossible, so she did the only thing that made sense. She ran to her room and hurried inside. Then she stood with her back to the door and waited for her heart beat to finally slow to normal.

CHAPTER SEVEN

MARSHA WALKED INTO Charity’s office shaking her head. “I know, I know. I’m late. I was meeting with Tiffany.” Marsha sank into the chair opposite Charity’s desk and groaned. “I swear, that girl.” She waved a piece of paper. “All the people she wants to meet with, and she would love for me to make the introductions.”

Charity did her best not to laugh. “I know it’s difficult.”

“It’s beyond difficult. It’s humiliating to have our town’s problems featured in her thesis.”

“At least we’re only a chapter.”

“I know and I should be grateful, but there’s a part of me that wants to ask why we’re not good enough to be an entire book. Which is crazy. I must need medication.” She drew in a breath. “All right. Enough about Tiffany. How are you?”

“Better than you. I was going to get a bottle of water from the vending machine. Do you want something?”

“A martini. Which I happen to know we don’t stock. I’ll take an iced tea.” She raised her hand, then set it back on her lap. “I don’t have my purse with me.”

“My treat. I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you. I’ll sit here and practice my breathing in attempt to get my blood pressure below a thousand.”

Charity left her office and walked toward the vending machine. She hadn’t personally spent any time with Tiffany but she’d heard the grad student’s questions could be probing at best and a little annoying at worst.

She put the money into the vending machine and collected the drinks, then returned to her office.

“Thank you,” Marsha said gratefully as she took the bottle. “Is that outfit new? I really like the skirt.”

Charity told herself to simply accept the compliment without an explanation. Or at least not a detailed one. Her boss didn’t need to know about her realization that she’d spent the past couple of years totally ignoring her appearance.

“I drove to Sacramento and did some shopping over the weekend.”

The black pencil skirt was still professional, but it ended a couple of inches above her knees rather than five inches below. The pumps had a thinner heel and were about an inch higher than what she had been wearing. She’d had the white blouse for about a year, but it was fairly classic. Hanging on the back of her chair was the new cropped black-and-white pinstripe jacket. The tailored style emphasized her waist and made her feel both feminine and powerful.

“You look great. I’ve always had a fondness for clothing. I had a thing for leather for years, but I’m too old now. I would simply frighten people if I showed up in leather pants or, God forbid, fringe.”

Charity laughed as she sat down at her desk. “You could start a trend.”

“I’ll leave that to those of you still under thirty. Anyway, tell me how things are going. Do we have any new businesses moving here so I can tell Tiffany we’re no longer thesis worthy?”

“Not yet, but I’m working on it. I’ve been in touch with the hospital committee and they were very impressed. They’ve dropped one site completely, so now it’s down to us and one other contender. They’ll want to send a few different people to explore the town and see what we have to offer. I’m already putting together different tours.”

“A hospital. That would be impressive.”

“It was on your to-do list.”

Marsha sipped her tea. “I love it when people listen to me.”

“I’m sure everyone does. From what I can tell, the biggest concern the hospital committee has is about community support, so I’ll be dealing with that directly.”

“Excellent.”

Charity passed over a second file. “I’ve been meeting with a software company. They’re in San Jose and while they’d keep their headquarters there, they need to expand. A lot of the staff have expressed a desire for small-town life. They want to stay in California and be relatively close to the main office. So I have high hopes we can convince them to come here.”

“Software, huh?”

“Most computer geeks are guys.”

“True and I’ve always liked that type of man. Computer guys, engineers. They’re usually stable and dependable. Important qualities when it comes to marriage.”

Charity glanced at the other woman’s left hand. There wasn’t a ring. She started to ask, then thought it might be a little too personal. But Marsha must have noticed.

“Like many women in my generation, I married young,” Marsha said. “John was a sweet man. Probably too good for me, but he loved me unconditionally. We were so happy together. We had a daughter.” She paused, as if remembering a moment in the past. “How that man loved his little girl. We had plans for a big family, but he was killed in a car accident when our little girl was only three. I was pregnant at the time and the shock of losing him caused me to miscarry.” Marsha pressed her lips together. “It was a difficult time.”

Charity was shocked to hear about the tragedy. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago. Now I just have good memories, but for a while I didn’t think I could survive the double loss. My baby girl helped pull me through, just by needing me. And I had the town.”

Marsha smiled at her. “John and I had both been born here, so when I lost him, so did the community. They rallied. About a year later, someone put me on the ballot for the city council. I think it was to shock me out of my depression. I never campaigned, but somehow I won. I went to my first meeting with the idea that I would resign, but somehow I got sucked into it all. Here I am, some forty years later, still working in city government.”

“I’m glad you are. You do a terrific job.”

“You’re kind to say that.”

Charity wanted to ask about Marsha’s daughter, but as she’d never heard her mentioned, she didn’t. She was a little afraid something bad had happened to her, too.

“I have a lot of friends,” Marsha continued. “This has always been my home. So even with John gone, I belonged. I hope you’re getting a sense of that belonging yourself.”

“I’m really enjoying myself, getting to know people.”

“Making friends?”

“I am. I went over to Jo’s the other night to hang out with Pia and her friends. I met Crystal.”

Marsha shook her head. “A lovely girl. So desperately sad. When she lost her husband, I completely understood what she was going through. We were all so excited when she decided to have their embryos implanted. But then they discovered she was sick. It’s just not fair.”

“I know. I was thinking that when Jo told me about her situation. That it would help Crystal to have a child, but if she’s sick…”

“I know what you mean. Losing both parents would be so difficult. I sometimes wonder what God was thinking when He put all this in motion. We all hope she makes a full recovery. It’s just the doctors seem to think that’s unlikely.”

Marsha smiled at her. “And this is the part of small-town life that is difficult. We know each other’s joys, but we also know each other’s sorrows.” She shook her head. “And now let’s talk about something more cheerful. I couldn’t help but notice you had dinner with Robert the other night. Was that fun?”

Charity wasn’t used to discussing her personal life with her boss. She knew that Marsha was just being friendly, but she honestly didn’t know what to say, what with Robert being the town treasurer and all.

“He’s a great guy.”

“Very eligible.”

“It’s a little early to be marrying me off.”

“True, but I can’t help it. I have a matchmaker’s heart. I love watching people fall in love. Robert seems very steady.” She laughed. “Which sounds awful, but you know what I mean. It’s the dependable thing. He’s not flashy.”

Not like Josh, Charity thought, doing her best not to remember the brief but incredible kiss she and Josh had shared. No point in belaboring the impossible, not to mention improbable.

Marsha sipped her tea again. “Although something could be said for a man who will always surprise you.”

Charity blinked. “Excuse me? What happened to steady?”

“I suppose I’m biased. I’ve known Josh a long time. He’s like a son to me. I’d like to see him settle down with someone special.”

Charity would like to see him naked, but she wasn’t going to mention that. “Wasn’t he married before?”

“Yes, but she was all wrong for him. Talk about flashy. I tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen. He was thinking with the wrong part of his anatomy, if you get my meaning.”

Charity grinned. “I do.”

“He’s so much more than people give him credit for. I still remember the first time I saw him. He and his mother had moved here from Arizona. Josh had been in a horrible accident. He’d been hiking with his mother and fallen down the side of a mountain. He was battered and still healing. He could barely walk—his poor legs were so twisted.”

Charity tried to compare that image with the man she knew. It was impossible. “He’s so perfect.”

“Oh, he’s many things, but perfect isn’t one of them. But I know what you mean. He has that face and that body. But when he was a boy, it was a different story. She left him.”

“His mother?”

“Yes. She abandoned him about four months after they moved here. Just walked out one afternoon. Got in her car and drove away. I found Josh standing outside their motel room, waiting for her. At first we all assumed she would come back. But she didn’t. We looked for her, of course, but if a person doesn’t want to be found, hiding isn’t that hard.”

Charity had grown up moving from place to place. She’d hated always having to be the new girl, but she’d never been abandoned. Sandra had been flakey and selfish, but she’d never considered leaving Charity behind. It was one thing to lose a parent through an accident or illness, but to be discarded…. How did anyone recover from that?

“What happened?” she asked.

“No one knew what to do. There was the foster care system, which we weren’t enthused about, but it wasn’t as if the town could adopt a boy. He needed stability. The city council met to make a decision when Denise Hendrix walked in. She already had six children of her own, including triplet girls, if you can imagine. Her oldest, Ethan, was Josh’s age. She said one more child wouldn’t matter. So Josh moved in with them. He and Ethan became good friends. Best friends. They used to ride bikes together.”

“I’ve heard the name. Doesn’t Ethan own a windmill manufacturing company? He’s on my list of people to visit.”

“Yes, that’s him. He also has the construction firm he inherited from his father. You’ll like Ethan.” Marsha’s eyes twinkled. “He’s single, too. A widower.”

Charity laughed. “You’ve got to stop trying to fix me up. I’ll figure it out on my own. My first order of business is to get settled and get Fool’s Gold new businesses. My love life can wait.”

“It seems to me you could do both. You’re still thinking of buying a house?”

“Yes. I’m going to some open houses this weekend.”

“You’ll have a good time. There’s a lot to choose from in town. You should talk to Josh. He always knows when a new property is coming on the market.”

Charity raised her eyebrows.

Marsha shook her head. “I mean that in the real estate sense, I’m not trying to fix you up.”

“I don’t think I believe you.”

Marsha winked. “You probably shouldn’t. I can be wily.”

Once again Charity was delighted she’d taken this job. Working for Marsha was a pleasure and she hoped she and the mayor could become good friends. Marsha was easy to be with.

There was a knock on her open door. She looked up and saw Robert walking toward them.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said, handing Marsha a legal-looking letter. “This couldn’t wait.”

Marsha scanned the letter. “It’s from the State of California.”

“They’re following up on money they sent. It was earmarked for road repair. They want confirmation that it was used correctly.”

“Road repair. I don’t know anything about this.”

“None of us do,” Robert said. “The money was never received by my office. It’s missing.”

Charity shifted her gaze to Marsha, who looked stunned.

“How much are we talking about?” the mayor asked.

“Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

* * *

“THANKS FOR TAKING CRYSTAL’S place on the committee,” Pia said as she and Charity walked to the recreation center by the park.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Charity said. “I want to get involved with town activities.”

“Uh-huh. You say that now. But let me be clear—you’ve agreed so there’s no backing out. Don’t come whining to me later.”

Charity laughed. “How bad could it be?”

“Ask me that again in three months when you’re signing in fifteen hundred racers.”

“There’s an actual race?” Charity said, pretending surprise.

“Very funny.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’d better be. You’re new and have energy. I plan to use you shamelessly.” Pia shifted her tote to her other shoulder. “Love the jacket, by the way. Red is so your color.”

“Thanks. I did some shopping.” The black pants were new, too. Boot cut and long, which worked as she was in high-heeled boots. The black short-sleeved sweater provided a simple backdrop for the deep Red Riding-inspired jacket.

Pia slowed, then stopped. “Oh, God. I’m having a weird out-of-body experience. The other night, at Jo’s, did I say something about your clothes?”

“You mentioned they were a little out of date.”

Pia winced. “I was so drunk. I’m sorry. At Jo’s place—I was hideous, wasn’t I? Can you forgive me?”

Charity touched her arm. “There’s nothing to forgive. You weren’t wrong. I was dressing too conservatively. Hiding from my life. It’s not like I need therapy or anything. You were a good wake-up call.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. Stop apologizing. I needed to hear the truth about my clothes. You were right—I was dressing like someone a lot older.”

Pia winced. “Note to self. Never have alcohol again.”

“How long will that last?”

Pia grinned. “At least a week.”

They walked into the recreation center. There was a small snack bar with a few dozen tables, then a long, wide hallway with classrooms on either side. As they walked, Charity saw a group of older women scrap-booking, while across the way, grade school kids did some kind of martial arts.

“You can learn just about anything here,” Pia said. “Last year, someone flew up from L.A. and did a class on Feng Shui. It was interesting. I shifted my entire bedroom to draw in love and power. It didn’t work. Maybe I should have worked on my money center instead.”

“Um, probably not in your bedroom,” Charity told her.

Pia grinned. “You’re right. That would be illegal.”

They walked into the large auditorium at the far end of the building. There were already about twenty people standing around talking.

“I know we don’t need a space this big now,” Pia said, “but we will later, and I’ve learned to grab the big space early or someone else will claim it. Do you know everyone here?”

“I think so.”

Charity saw several familiar faces, including Morgan, who waved at her. There was one of the women on the city council and a—

The hair on the back of her neck stood up. She felt a ripple of awareness tiptoe down her spine and without turning she knew Josh was in the room.

Ever since the kiss, she’d done her best to avoid him, and so far it had worked. Looked like her luck had run out.

She turned slowly and saw him talking to several people. Even in the crummy fluorescent lighting, he looked amazing. His gold-blond hair needed cutting, but that only added to his appeal. He was tall, built and had a face that would make an angel want to sin. Worse, he kissed with a fiery passion that left her past weak and nearly to begging. How was anything about the situation fair?

Just then he glanced up and saw her. Although he didn’t greet her in any way, she saw something very close to a twinkle in his eyes. As if they shared a private joke. She turned away.

Pia glanced between them. “Wow. You really hate him.”

“What? Why would you say that?”

“You were glaring. I can’t believe the old charm isn’t working on you.”

Yikes. The last thing Charity needed was for Pia to start asking questions. “No. It’s not like that. I barely know him. I was thinking about something else. There’s, um, there’s a problem with some stuff at work.”

“Oh.” Pia lowered her voice. “The missing three-quarters of a million dollars. Marsha told me about that. Don’t worry. I haven’t mentioned it to anyone. Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed you were pissed at Josh. I’m just so used to everyone adoring him that it was really strange.”

“Not a problem.”

“Are you looking for fun? Because Josh is available. At least I think he is. He has so many women, it’s hard to tell.”

“I’m not into crowd control.”

“He’d be worth it. Trust me. I went to high school with him. I was a few years behind, but we all totally adored him. Even back then he was special.”

“Did you ever…” Charity paused, not sure how to ask the question. “Were you ever involved?”

“No, but I wanted to be. In a generic, he’s-a-god sort of way. I didn’t actually know him that well.” She glanced at her watch. “I should probably call this meeting to order.”

Pia raised her voice. “All right, people. Let’s take a seat and get going. The sooner we start, the sooner we can all get home to watch American Idol.”

Charity moved toward the table. In an effort to keep anyone from thinking there was a problem, she did her best not to notice Josh at all. Which turned out to be a mistake when she ended up standing by an empty chair next to him.

“Shall we?” he asked, holding out the chair.

Not knowing what else to do, she sank into it, then wished she hadn’t when he settled next to her.

Not that she objected to the proximity or the view. He was, as always, totally gorgeous. But she was tired and therefore less able to fight her attraction. Maybe she should try an energy drink before her next encounter with Josh.

“How’d you get roped into this?” he asked, leaning toward her.

Her gaze seemed to focus on his mouth—the mouth that had kissed hers so deliberately just a few days before. It was a kiss she’d been trying to forget, only to realize that spending all her time not thinking about it was the same as spending all her time thinking about it.

“Crystal asked me to take her place.”

His expression tightened. “Poor kid. She’s had it hard.”

“I don’t know her very well, but she seems really sweet. She said she wasn’t feeling well enough to continue.”

Charity returned her attention to Pia and tried not to notice when Josh leaned back in his chair. The movement brought his forearm perilously close to her own, which made her wonder if she should simply leave things as they were or casually shift away from him.

Talk about having it bad, she thought with a sigh.

“The race is a one-day event,” Pia was saying. “Which means minimal heads in bed. You all know how I hate that. We need the heads in beds, people.”

“We could make the race longer,” one guy yelled.

“Not helpful.” But Pia was smiling as she spoke.

“What’s heads in beds?” Josh asked Charity.

“People spending the night in town or nearby. An overnight event. Like a weekend festival. The race is just part of a day.”

“Aah. Thanks.”

Pia went through her list. Charity found herself agreeing to work on the advertising committee, as well.

“I’m on advertising, too,” Josh told her when the meeting wrapped up. “It’s easy. Just get a few businesses to sponsor.”

“Don’t you own several businesses in town?” she asked.

“Uh huh, and I promise to be generous.”

“Lucky me.”

“I’d say so.” He walked out with her. “You started looking for your own place yet?” he asked.

“I’m going to a few open houses this weekend to get a feel for the real estate market. I’m not sure exactly what I’m looking for.”

“More of a ‘I’ll know it when I find it’ shopper?”

“Something like that. I’ve never actually owned my own home before,” she admitted. “When I got out of college, I was focused on paying off my student loans and saving money. I moved to Henderson right at the peak of the real estate bubble, so I couldn’t afford anything I wanted. Then the market started to flatten and I wanted to wait until it was closer to the bottom. By then…”

Why had she started this detailed discussion of real estate?

Josh stood, waiting, looking at her. She could feel the intensity of his gaze and while she was sure he didn’t mean it to be smoldering, it felt hot to her.

“By then I was involved with someone,” she admitted, hoping she didn’t blush, despite feeling foolish.

“You wanted to wait and see if the two of you would be buying a place together,” he finished. “Makes sense. I’ll guess that you being here means it wasn’t a slam dunk?”

Despite the faint warmth on her cheeks, she laughed. “You men do love a good sports metaphor.”

“It’s in our blood.”

“No, it wasn’t a slam dunk. We broke up a few months ago. I found out about the job here and made the move. So this will be the first house I buy myself.”

“You were born to own a home.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You’re responsible, you want to be settled and you’d look great on a porch swing.” His gaze wandered down her body before returning to her eyes. “In shorts.”

The warmth in her cheeks deepened. “If that was a compliment, then thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Not that you don’t look great tonight. I like the red.”

He put his hand on the small of her back and led her out of the room. She tried not to notice the contact, even when it burned through to her skin.

“By the way, I know of a house coming on the market. It’s in a great part of town. Built around 1910, but fully remodeled. The electrical and plumbing have been brought up to code. It’s not huge, but I think you’d like it. I, ah, know the owner and could get the key. Want me to show it to you?”

“Sure.”

She told herself she was only interested in the house, but she knew she was lying. What she was hoping was that in the quiet of an empty house, Josh would try to have his way with her. Not that she would give in, but she was sure looking forward to the discussion.

* * *

SATURDAY MORNING CHARITY met Josh at the Starbucks on the corner. She ordered her nonfat latte, then splurged with a couple of pumps of mocha flavoring. Josh stood talking to a couple of women who were obviously trying to convince him of something. She waited until the other women walked off before joining him.

“That was intense,” she said as she followed him outside.

“They want me to open a training camp here in town. A place for kids to take their riding to the next level. There are a few of them in the country.”

She thought about what she knew about his past. “And?”

“It’s an idea.”

“Not one you want to take on?”

“Not today.”

They started down the sidewalk.

“We’re walking?” she asked.

“It’s about a mile. Want to drive?”

“No. I like to walk. Living here will cut down on tire wear and tear.”

They passed a couple of women jogging. They waved at them. Charity saw the woman on the left whisper something to her friend and point. She grimaced.

“We’re a couple, aren’t we?” she asked with a sigh. “I totally forgot about the consequences of people seeing us together.”

“Do you mind the gossip?”

“Not if no one asks for details.”

“They’ll expect you to tell them I’m a god in bed.”

Probably, she thought, grinning. “Are you?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Want references?”

“So you have them?”

“I could get a couple.”

“Thanks, but I’ll wing it if anyone asks.”

“It’s no trouble.”

“I’m sure it isn’t,” she murmured, then sipped her coffee.

A god in bed. If anyone could meet that criterion, she had a feeling it would be Josh. He was a complete and total temptation, but one she planned to resist. He was practically worshipped everywhere he went and she was just a regular person. She’d studied mythology in school. She knew what happened to mere mortals who dared to stray into the realm of gods.

Of course, a couple of days ago, she was hoping he would make a pass at her. When it came to Josh, she simply couldn’t decide if it was better to be good or be bad. Although she knew which option would be more fun.

They crossed the street and walked into a residential neighborhood filled with beautiful old houses. A few had been completely updated, thereby losing their charm, but most retained elements of the original architecture. There were big trees that stretched across the street, touching branches and providing shade. Intricately carved fences surrounded lush gardens. He pointed to a white house with blue-gray trim.

“That’s it.”

She stared at the two-story structure, the wide front porch and big windows. Everything about the house welcomed her.

“I already love it,” she said.

“Wait until you see the inside.”

He pulled a key out of his jeans pocket and unlocked the front door. They stepped into the stillness.

Light spilled in the windows, illuminating the polished hardwood floors. The living room was large, with a fireplace and Craftsman style built-ins. There was a dining room, also with built-in storage and a small library with bookshelves that went up to the ceiling.

Everywhere she looked she spotted amazing details. The baseboards were at least eight inches high and crown molding emphasized the plaster ceiling. In the kitchen, the appliances were refurbished fifties style and blended perfectly with sleek new cabinets and a slate floor. There was an eat-in nook and French doors that led out into the garden.

A lot like Jo’s house, she thought with a happy sigh. Only better.

“I love it,” she said wistfully. “I don’t even have to see the upstairs. It’s beautiful, but I have a feeling it’s out of my price range.”

“I know the owner and he’ll deal.”

“Is there anyone in town you don’t know?”

“There might be a couple of babies I haven’t met yet.”

“Life in a small town,” she said.

“It works.”

She turned in the center of the kitchen, admiring the light fixtures, the original doors, the feeling of home and space.

“You’re not the least bit tempted to buy something like this for yourself?” she asked.

“I like where I live.”

“But it’s a hotel.”

“Exactly. No maintenance, cleaning service is provided and I get a break on pay-per-view movies.”

Because he owned the hotel, she thought, trying to keep her attention on the house rather than the man. She was alone with Josh in a quiet, empty space. If she didn’t keep her mind focused, she was in danger of throwing herself at him and begging to find out if he really was a god in bed.

“Don’t you get tired of the room service menu?”

“They take requests.”

“From you.” She shook her head. “A rock star in a small town. I can’t imagine.”

“It has its benefits.”

“And the downsides?”

His gaze locked with hers. “There are those, too.”

Something stirred deep in her belly. Determined to stay strong, she deliberately switched the conversation. “Still riding alone at night?”

He nodded.

“Have you talked to anyone about what happened? A sports psychologist?”

He glanced away. “When it first happened. I’ve seen the pictures, the TV coverage. I know there was nothing I could have done. But knowing and believing aren’t the same thing.”

There was something in his voice, a hopelessness. As if something important had been lost.

“You want to go back,” she said quietly.

“Every damn day. I miss being who I was. Not the fame, but the competition. Winning. The training. I ride here, but it’s not the same. I miss my teammates, the anticipation of the race.”

She suspected he missed the fame, as well. Who wouldn’t?

“You’ve tried riding with other people?” she asked.

He stiffened. “More than once.” He glanced at his watch in obvious dismissal. “We should see the upstairs.”

Without thinking, she crossed to him, then lightly touched his arm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. The past, I mean. It’s not my business.”

One corner of his mouth twisted into a smile. “I’m not delicate, Charity. You can say what you want.”

She seemed unable to look away from his mouth. The shape of his upper lip, the unexpected fullness of the bottom one. She remembered the feel of his kiss, how she’d wanted to surrender. He was a man with way too much power.

“I’m seeing someone.”

The words fell out of her without warning.

Josh looked more amused than put off. “Robert?”

“Uh-huh. We’ve been out to dinner.”

“I remember hearing something about that. He’s a good guy.”

Now she felt stupid. What had she expected? That Josh would get jealous and tell her to stop seeing Robert? That he would make a move on her?

“Yes, he is,” she said primly. “A very nice man.”

“I hope the two of you will be very happy together.

The upstairs is that way.”

She moved toward the stairs, when in truth she felt like both crying and stomping her foot. She did neither. Instead she followed him to the second floor and tried to tell herself it was for the best. Wanting Josh was a one-way ticket to disasterville. A place where she’d already spent way too much time.

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHARITY WAS LOOKING forward to her meeting with Ethan Hendrix. He was a tall, good-looking guy. He and Josh used to be best friends and ride together. Then Ethan had gotten hurt ten or twelve years ago. The details on the whole thing were vague at best and she hadn’t been able to figure out a way to ask without appearing too interested in either man.

Ethan owned a construction company in town and a wind turbine manufacturing facility about ten miles out. As they were meeting at the latter location, it gave her a chance to actually drive her car for once. At least she wasn’t spending a lot on gas these days. Or wasting time sitting in traffic.

She followed the directions Ethan had given her, turning off at the big driveway leading to Hendrix Turbine. The site was massive, with large warehouse-like buildings and huge towers being loaded onto long trucks.

She followed arrows pointing to the office, then parked and walked inside. A small foyer led into a reception area. Beyond that were offices, desks and computers, with lots of pictures of wind turbines.

She’d done some research in anticipation of the meeting and knew that Hendrix Turbine was a fast-growing company. Wind power was popular, as were windmills. After the initial start-up costs, ongoing expenses were minimal. While wind turbine “farms” hadn’t become the norm, wind power was a great potential source of green power, especially in rural communities.

An attractive woman in her twenties looked up. She was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, and had short blond hair.

“Hi,” she said with a smile. “You must be Charity Jones. You’re Ethan’s eleven o’clock. He’ll be back any second. There was a delivery issue.” She wrinkled her nose as she walked toward Charity. “There’s always a delivery issue.”

When Charity shook hands with her, the woman continued, “I’m Nevada Hendrix, Ethan’s sister. I’m one of the engineers here.”

“Nice to meet you. A female engineer. The mayor will be so disappointed.”

Nevada laughed. “When I graduated from college Marsha told me to bring as many of my male classmates as I could to town. So far none of them have followed me, but I keep asking.”

“I’m sure we all appreciate the effort.”

A door slammed in the back. “That’s Ethan.” Nevada lowered her voice. “He’s single, by the way. One of the few in town, if you’re interested.”

“Ah, thank you,” she said, not sure of the correct and polite response. Fool’s Gold might not be swimming in men, but Charity had had more single guys tossed her way in the past month than in the past three years. Okay—only three, but still.

Ethan strode around the corner. “Am I late?” he asked.

“Right on time,” Charity told him.

Ethan was tall, with dark hair and eyes, and very nice looking. Not up there with Josh, but few mortals were.

Nevada introduced them, then went back to her computer. When she was behind Ethan, she gave Charity a thumb’s up.

“You have your sister working for you,” she said. “So this is a family business?”

“Three out of six,” he told her, motioning for her to lead the way out of the office. “My brother handles the sales end of things. I oversee manufacturing. Nevada is our resident engineer. I tell her she’s not all that, just because she’s in on the technical end of things, but she doesn’t believe me.”

“There are six of you?” she asked, thinking it would have been great to have a brother or sister. And a whole lot less lonely when she’d been growing up.

“Sometimes it felt like twenty, but it was good. We’re a close family.”

“Everyone still in Fool’s Gold?”

“One of my brothers moved away, but the girls are here.” He pointed to one of the big warehouses. “That’s where we store the components. They’re not here long. We have a whole lot more demand than we can fill. Wind turbines are popular.”

“That’s what I hear,” Charity told him. “As I said in my call, I’m the new city planner. I’m coming around and meeting all the business owners in the area.” She was also interested in his relationship with Josh, but doubted she would figure out a way to bring that up.

“What do you know about wind turbines?”

She thought for a second. “They’re really tall?”

He grinned. “Good start. Come on. I’ll take you to the sales office and give you a quick course in what we do here.”

The sales office was another building. Inside there was a model of a wind farm, with working wind turbines, pictures of different kinds of wind turbines, cutaways of the machinery and several blank TV screens.

“I won’t show you the entire DVD collection. Not until you have a few million you’d like to invest.”

“Not this week. I’m thinking of buying a house.”

“Maybe when the budget’s not so tight?”

She laughed. “You’ll be first on my list.”

He pointed to the models of turbines. “This is what we build. They come in various sizes, the largest of which produces six megawatts of power. Assume it’s going at full speed twenty-four-seven, we’re talking about enough electricity generated to power fifteen hundred households a year.”

“You’re kidding? From one of those? We all should have one in our yard.”

“Don’t get too excited, that’s under extremely optimal conditions. Reality is a little less easy to calculate. The wind doesn’t always blow, and the turbines are fairly loud.”

He hit a switch and one of the TV screens came on. The picture scanned across a seemingly isolated patch of desert scrub. The background noise increased until it was uncomfortably loud.

“That’s close to what they’re like at fifty feet.”

Charity wanted to cover her ears. “Okay, maybe not in the front yard.”

He hit another button and the picture shifted to a large display of wind turbines.

“There are other considerations,” he said. “Some areas are windier than others. We use something called Wind Power Density to determine the best placement for the turbines. There are also problems with delivery. The towers are usually between two and three hundred feet tall. The blades are between sixty-five and a hundred and thirty feet long.”

She tried to picture that, but couldn’t. Ethan must have been used to those unfamiliar with his industry. He immediately hit a button and the TV screen changed to a drawing of a blade next to a six foot man.

“The blade wins,” she murmured.

“It’s going about a hundred and sixty miles an hour. It always wins. So we want a relatively isolated location that we can deliver to and provide service to. Not too close to the community but not too far away. Lots of wind, but not so much wildlife.”

“Right,” she said. “Birds get clipped by the blades and die.”

“We actually have a bigger problem with bats.”

She blinked. “Bats, as in bats? Don’t they have sonar that allows them to see anything that’s moving in the sky?”

“Yes, but the spinning blades create a change in pressure.” He paused. “You don’t want to know. Let’s just say turbines can have a negative impact on bat migration. To change that, we recommend owners shut down the turbines during slow wind nights.”

“A computer does that, right?”

“It can. The biggest concerns are during late summer and early fall, when bats migrate.”

She had the weird feeling there was something crawling in her hair. “Um, bats migrate?”

He nodded.

“I could have gone my whole life without knowing that.”

“They don’t want to hang with you any more than you want to hang with them.”

“Uh-huh. That sounds nice, but I don’t actually believe that. I think bats get a good laugh out of making girls scream.”

“Maybe. I hadn’t thought about it, but you could be right.”

He showed her part of a DVD and a few more pictures, then handed her a map of the area.

“Here’s the closest wind farm,” he said, pointing to the map. “You can take a drive out there if you want to see them in person. The area is fenced off, but you can drive up close enough to get an idea of the size and the noise.” He grinned. “Go during the day and you’ll avoid the bats.”

“Note to self,” she said, taking the paper. “Thanks. I appreciate all the info.”

They started back toward the main building.

“How are you liking small-town life?” he asked.

“It’s great. I’m still learning everyone’s name.”

“That will take a while. I’ve seen you and Josh Golden together a few times.”

His voice was casual, but she had an idea that the statement was anything but.

“We’re not together,” she said quickly. “He showed me a house that’s coming on the market and we’re on a committee. Nothing more.”

Ethan laughed. “Women aren’t usually so quick to separate themselves from any association with him.”

She winced. “I don’t mean to say I don’t like him.” She paused. “Just not, you know, in that way.”

Almost the truth, she reminded herself. Wanting to have sex with someone was not the same as liking the person. Erratic hormones had a will of their own, while her mind was more concerned with the inner qualities of a man.

“Apparently,” Ethan said, his dark eyes twinkling with humor.

She sighed. “The local celebrity thing is a challenge. I don’t know what to say.”

“You’re doing fine. Truthfully, Josh is a whole lot more interesting than the guy who carves jewelry out of cattle dung.”

“At least he probably smells better.”

Ethan glanced at her. “He’s not a bad guy.”

“I thought you two didn’t get along,” she said, then clamped her fingers over her mouth. “Sorry,” she mumbled, dropping her hand. “People talk and sometimes I listen.”

“I understand. Don’t worry about it.” He kept walking. “Whatever happened between Josh and me was a long time ago. Have you ever been to a race?”

She shook her head.

“There’s always a crowd. The riders are in packs, so close together that the slightest mistake can take nearly anyone down. The speeds are incredible. On the downhill part of a course, fifty or sixty miles an hour isn’t impossible. What happened to me wasn’t Josh’s fault. I actually hit him, but I’m the one who went down.”

“Then why aren’t you two speaking?”

Ethan flashed her a grin. “You’ll have to ask Josh that.”

They reached her car.

“I appreciate the time,” she told him. “Thanks for the tour and the lesson on bats.”

“Anytime.”

He waved and walked back to the office.

His stride was long and easy, with only the faintest hint of a limp. He was single, good-looking and charming. And she felt absolutely nothing when she was around him. Somebody somewhere sure had a sense of humor.

* * *

JOSH LOOKED UP AS both Marsha and Pia walked into his office. Eddie waved at him from her desk, then turned her back on him, as if silently claiming this wasn’t her business. A sentiment that didn’t leave Josh with an especially good feeling.

“Have you heard?” Pia asked, plopping into one of the chairs on the other side of his desk. “A big bike race got canceled and they’re shopping for a new location. I just got a call. It’s fantastic.”

“Yes. A company pulling out of an event because they’re losing money is a reason to celebrate,” Marsha said dryly. “Maybe later we’ll find out there are layoffs and we can really party.”

Pia rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. Of course I don’t want anyone to lose their job. But this doesn’t have to be a bad thing for the charity. Not if someone else picks up the slack, which we’re going to do.” She handed Josh a sheet of paper. “I know what you’re thinking. We’re doing Race for the Cure, but that’s a race for runners. And only one day. This is so much more. Major event on the tour, dozens of sexy guys on bikes. Heads in beds. They’re desperate—which is where we come in.”

“We who?” he asked, already having a good idea of where this conversation was going.

“The town,” Pia told him triumphantly. “I’ve done some checking on the costs and expectations and I know we can pull this off. We’ll move the entire bike race to Fool’s Gold. It’s a quiet weekend for us, so there are plenty of hotel rooms. I’ve already put a tentative hold on every empty room between here and Sacramento. Heads in beds. You know how we love that.”

Marsha studied him. He read the concern in her gaze and knew she was worried about him.

“The town can’t cover all the costs,” he began.

“I know, but I’m already talking to a few companies,” Pia told him, slapping a folder on his desk. “If they’ll cough up the prize money, we’re good to go. The rest of the work can be done by volunteers. You know how this town loves a good project. Especially when that project supports you.”

Here it comes, he thought grimly. “How does it support me?”

“It’s bike racing, Josh,” Pia told him. “Your thing. I was thinking we’d have a little parade and you can be the grand marshal. Then you can give the prizes at the finish. You know, the old guard, the new guard.”

Right. Because the highlight of his day would be handing out prize money to guys he used to race with. Guys who could still compete.

“Or you could even race,” she added with a wink. “Announce your comeback. It would mean a huge boost in publicity. The charity is for sick kids, Josh.”

“It always is.”

Marsha leaned toward Pia. “I think you’ve hit him with the highlights. Why don’t you give him a couple of days to think about all of this?”

“Okay, but we don’t have long. I would hate to see some other town snap up this opportunity.”

“That would be bad,” Josh said as Pia stood and left. He turned his attention to Marsha. “What do you think?”

“Pia’s a smart girl. This would be good for the town. Put us on the map.”

“I thought we already were.”

“It would bring a lot of attention to Fool’s Gold. Positive attention. Something other than a chapter in a thesis where the reality of who we are is reduced to statistics.”

He leaned back in his chair. “You want the race.”

Marsha studied him. “I want you to be comfortable with the decision we make. It’s a great opportunity, but there will be others.”

When he’d been a kid and his mother had dumped him in town and taken off, he’d been more alone and scared than any ten-year-old should be. Denise Hendrix had taken him in. Ethan had become his best friend. He’d been one of seven kids in a loud, happy, loving family. But there had been times when he’d never felt as if he truly fit in.

Whenever life at the Hendrix house had overwhelmed him, Marsha seemed to know. She would drop by during the late afternoon and take him out for dinner. In the quiet of a local restaurant, he felt comfortable talking about whatever was bothering him. She listened more than offered advice and most of the time, that was enough.

They’d never talked about what had happened during that last race. When he’d returned to Fool’s Gold, she’d told him that she was feeling old and frail and had insisted he spend the first week in her guest-room. He hadn’t been fooled. There was nothing frail about Marsha. She hadn’t wanted him to be alone and he’d been willing to pretend it was about her.

They’d never talked about Frank’s death or his fear, but he suspected she’d figured it all out. A theory she confirmed when she said, “You have a choice. Face the demons or keep running from them.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Why not? Ethan was hurt and you moved on.”

“I felt guilty.” But she was right. He’d moved on. But that had been different. Ethan’s accident had been one of those things. Frank’s death seemed more like his fault. “There’s no way to face them without everyone knowing.”

“What do you think will happen if everyone finds out the truth about you?”

A thousand things he didn’t want to consider.

“You should trust us more,” she said, rising. “Trust those of us who love you. You’re more than your fame, Josh. You always have been.”

Maybe, but was he enough without it?

“Running hasn’t worked so far,” she said as she walked to the door. “Maybe it’s time for a new plan.”

* * *

ROBERT INVITED CHARITY over to his place for dinner. He promised a grilled steak and the best salads the corner deli had to offer. Charity hoped that if they could hang out together, talking without any pressure or her being able to see Josh across the restaurant, that she would become more interested in Robert.

His house was within walking distance of the hotel, hardly a surprise, in a quiet residential neighborhood on a golf course. The homes were mostly two stories tall with big windows and well-groomed front yards. Robert’s was no exception, although it looked a little newer and better kept than the others on the block.

“Hi,” she said when Robert opened the front door. “I brought wine.”

“Something I really like in a woman,” he said, taking her hand and drawing her in, then lightly kissing her cheek. “You look great.”

“Thanks.”

She’d worn a short denim skirt with high-heeled sandals and a pale peach silky wrap shirt. Another new purchase designed to show the world, and herself, that she wasn’t always conservative. Buying the clothes had started an interesting ripple effect. When she’d started paying attention to what she wore, she’d found herself thinking about things like highlights and pedicures. She had an appointment for the former next week and would find out if the salon had a nail person while she was there.

She’d visited a large discount store and bought a bunch of new makeup to try, including a honey-jasmine body scrub she’d been using in the shower. It was fun being a girl, she thought, wondering how she could have allowed herself to forget.

“Shall I give you the tour?” he asked.

“I would like that.”

The main floor had high ceilings. The living room flowed into a formal dining room. Both had beautiful furniture that looked expensive. The big TV and high-tech sound system could have been at home in a movie theater. There was a wet bar tucked into an alcove by the hallway, then the eat-in kitchen was in back. The patio beyond held a lush potted garden and a man-sized grill with lots of knobs and storage.

“I can’t help it,” Robert said. “Fire good.”

“Those caveman roots are hard to cut.” She handed over the bottle of wine.

He opened it and poured them each a glass. Once they’d toasted and sipped, they went out onto the patio.

“Impressive garden,” she said. “I don’t know much about growing plants.”

“My mom liked to dig in the dirt,” he told her. “I started helping out when I was a kid. I can make nearly anything grow, which is both a blessing and a curse.” He pointed to a dozen or so small pots suspended on the fence. Each overflowed with some kind of a plant. “Herbs.”

“You grow your own?”

“My ex-fiancée and I did that together. Planted the seeds. Then, when things didn’t work out, I couldn’t bring myself to take them down. They keep growing. I don’t cook much, so I have no use for them. Every few weeks I bring in bags of them to the office. Once you get your place, you can take them home and use them if you’d like.”

“The assumption being I’ll know what they are and what to do with them?”

“They have books for that.”

“Apparently I’ll need to find a couple.”

Was it just her, or was keeping an herb garden born in a previous relationship a little odd? Especially when Robert didn’t use them himself?

Maybe not, she told herself. He was obviously a great gardener. That was nice. She shouldn’t be critical. This was a guy she wanted to get to know better.

“Did your mom have a big garden?” she asked.

“About a quarter acre. My parents were older when I was born. They’d given up on having a kid. Living in a small town, they didn’t have access to a fertility specialist. I’m not sure why they never adopted.”

He motioned for her to take a seat in one of the wicker chairs on the patio, then he sat next to her.

“They were excited to have me, but a little old-fashioned. They didn’t want me to go away to college, so I went locally. Then after I graduated and got my first job, I lived at home for a while. By then Dad was gone and Mom was having trouble getting around.”

“That was nice of you.”

He shrugged. “They were my parents. I had to take care of them. When Mom passed, I decided to leave town.”

“You didn’t have anyone special to keep you there?”

“No. I didn’t date a lot. Mom preferred me to spend my time with her.”

Creepy music played softly in the back of her mind. Charity told herself that Robert was simply that rare breed of good guy, but she wasn’t sure she completely believed it. She’d had enough disasters in her past to look for warning signs. Was there one here or was she simply comparing Robert to Josh?

Figuring out the truth was made all the more challenging by her physical reaction to Josh every time she was around him. No man could compete with that, either, she though sadly. Were the Roberts of the world destined to be outshone by those who were special?

“I like life here,” he said. “No complications. At least there weren’t until we found there was money missing.”

That’s right. The missing seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. “I assume there’s going to be an investigation,” she said.

“It’s already started. The city council is bringing in someone to audit the books.” He grimaced. “It’s a lot of money to be accounted for.”

“Do you have any ideas about what happened?”

“Not a clue. Normally I know exactly when money is coming in from the state. But this time…” He sipped his wine. “Something’s wrong.”

“The police chief mentioned something to me about somebody stealing. We’re having quite the crime spree in town.”

“I doubt they’re related.” He glanced at her. “Those thefts were small amounts. Stuff you get at a grocery store. This is major. Somebody’s going to jail.” He smiled. “Shall I start the steaks?”

“Sure. How can I help?”

“Just watch and pretend to admire my prowess with the grill.”

She laughed. “I can do that.”

* * *

THREE HOURS LATER CHARITY walked back to the hotel, fighting the feeling of finally escaping a long duty dinner. As much as she’d tried to enjoy herself and connect with Robert, they had absolutely no chemistry together and very little in common. The herb garden growing on the fence had turned out to be the highlight of the evening.

Robert was a man of many interests. He had an entire bedroom devoted to Civil War battle reenactments. The models were all to scale, with tiny trees and houses dotting the mossy landscape. He’d shown her the mistakes of the Battle of Bull Run, including both sound effects and falling men. She would guess he had a fair amount of money invested in that hobby.

He also had a large collection of action figures, all in their original boxes. It was like a low-budget version of The Forty Year Old Virgin, but without the laugh track. She’d had such hopes for Robert, she thought. Hopes that were not going to be realized. Even without thoughts of Josh tugging at her subconscious, she wouldn’t have been able to fall for a guy who seemed way more interested in his soldier models than in the woman standing next to him.

She walked into the hotel and told herself not to feel defeated. She would find the right guy for her…eventually. If she kept putting herself out there, eventually she had to find the one, didn’t she? Statistically, at least, if not in real life.

She took the stairs to her floor, then turned toward her room. Her mystery guy was out there. She just had to be patient.

* * *

JOSH STEPPED OUT INTO the hallway and nearly bumped into Charity.

They both came to a stop. He was aware he was standing too close, he could feel her warm breath on his face. His gaze settled on her mouth, which made him remember what it had been like to kiss her.

“How was your evening?” he asked.

“Fine. Great. I had dinner with Robert.”

Of course she had, Josh thought humorously, but didn’t react in any way. “He’s a good guy.”

“Yes, he is.”

She spoke defiantly, raising her chin as if daring him to disagree with her. Not that he would. From what he knew about Robert, the man was solid. A little weird, but who was he to be critical of anyone? If Charity had found someone, that was great.

Only it wasn’t, and knowing she’d been out with Robert seriously pissed him off.

It wasn’t just Robert, he admitted. It was everything else. The race, how he was stuck, unable to do what he loved. He knew he should just get on the damn bike and ride through the fear, but whenever he tried, he broke out in a sweat and thought he was going to pass out. Then he had to step away to throw up. Not a pretty picture. Or one to be proud of.

“My going out with him isn’t about you,” she told him.

“Never thought it was.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Right.” Now he was pissed. “Have you kissed Robert? Because you sure as hell kissed me.”

She stiffened, then looked around as if she didn’t want anyone to hear.

“That was an accident,” she said, her voice low and tense.

“Right. You fell into my arms and our mouths bumped.”

Irritation flashed in her brown eyes. “You’re not all that.”

Truer words had never been spoken, he thought, then he grabbed her upper arms and drew her in those last few inches.

“Want to bet?” he asked, right before his mouth settled on hers.

For a second, there was nothing. Charity didn’t react, which left him feeling like a complete jerk. What was he thinking? This wasn’t his style. That would imply caring—something he didn’t do anymore.

He was about to pull back, to apologize, when she wrapped her arms around his neck, parted her mouth and kissed him as if he was her last, best hope to survive.

Where there had been only irritation and a vague desire to prove something, now there was need and wanting. His blood heated to boiling. He placed his hands on either side of her face as he kissed her deeply, taking and giving, wanting her to lose herself in him.

She gave as good as he offered, her tongue dueling with his. She squirmed to get closer, which took him from hard to aching. He might not have had sex in a really long time, but he hadn’t forgotten what all the fuss was about. He wanted Charity and he wanted her now.

CHAPTER NINE

CHARITY HADN’T MEANT to kiss Josh back. He was obviously annoyed about something and as much as she would like to think it had to do with her spending time with Robert, she wasn’t to the point of being willing to fool herself. So resisting his pushy kiss was the smartest reaction.

If only, she thought, straining to get closer, to deepen the kiss. Passion erupted with a fury that left her shaken and weak in every sense of the word. There was something about this man—all it took was the promise of a touch and she lost control. She needed his body with an intensity that frightened her. Now, with his mouth on hers, his hands roaming down her back to her hips, she found herself perilously close to begging. More. She needed more.

She angled her head and met him stroke for stroke. His tongue ignited need, fueling the melting. Her skin seemed ultrasensitive, making her aware of every stroke, each caress as he rubbed her arms, then settled his hands on her waist. Her breasts were heavy and aching. Between her legs, she was already wet and swollen. Ready. Desperately ready.

In case he hadn’t figured that out, she closed the millimeter or two separating them, pressing her body against his. He was strong and broad, but what interested her the most was the thick ridge that settled against her belly. The physical proof he wanted her, too.

He drew back enough to kiss along her jaw before dropping to her neck. Open-mouthed kisses sent shivers of delight racing through her.

Maybe he’d had as many women as people claimed.

Maybe this was a hideous mistake. Either way, she knew she’d never felt such heat before. Such surging hunger. To make sure he got the message, she drew his hands to her breasts.

As his palms cupped her curves and his skilled fingers teased her tight and sensitive nipples, their eyes locked.

She saw an answering fire in his, a desire that eased any concern she had about whether he was just being polite.

As if answering the unspoken question, he grabbed her hand and drew her toward his hotel room door. His key was out, then they were inside before she had time to think. A good thing, she told herself. Thinking was highly overrated.

The second the door closed behind him, he had her up against the wall. He leaned in close and claimed her mouth again. At the same time, he tugged at the knot holding her wrapped shirt, then jerked it open. He half pulled off the fabric, then reached for her bra. It took mere seconds for him to bare her breasts.

Then his hands were on her skin, touching, teasing, rubbing his fingers against her nipples. Pleasure shot through her. She clamped down on his tongue and sucked. He groaned. When she released him, he nipped her bottom lip before dropping his head to her breasts and drawing deeply on her left nipple.

She felt the pull all the way to her belly. Every inch of her burned. Her muscles tensed. She touched everywhere she could reach—his broad back, his arms, then lower, pressing her palm against his erection. He retaliated by slipping a hand between her thighs. Now it was her turn to groan.

His searching fingers found her very center. He pushed her bikini panties aside and moved his fingers over that part of her—the bundle of nerves already quivering in anticipation. She was so ready, so swollen, that it only took a few quick strokes to steal her breath and make her cling to him. Then he shifted, pressing his fingers inside her and using his thumb to rub her to near ecstasy.

She couldn’t catch her breath, she thought, torn between the way his mouth moved on her breasts and the way his fingers moved between her legs. Couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but feel the waves of pleasure building inside of her.

She had to hang on to him to stay upright, to concentrate on her balance. He straightened and kissed her mouth, claiming her with a passion that pushed her closer to the edge.

Then she felt it. The telltale hum that began deep inside her, the warning clenching that her orgasm was nearly there, practically a sure thing. And just as she braced herself for the release she knew was going to be incredible, Josh stopped.

She stared at him, unable to believe what was happening. His hands reached between them and she realized he was unfastening his jeans. Before she could join in and help, he’d freed his thick erection. She quickly pushed her panties to the ground and stepped out of them. He grabbed her around the hips and boosted her up, so she was pressed against the wall, her body settling onto his arousal.

This was impossible, she thought frantically. She’d never done anything like this. She couldn’t touch the ground, she was completely dependent on him supporting her. There was no way she could relax enough to—

He moved inside of her. He pushed in hard, thrusting up and back, filling her. His body rubbed against her, teasing her swollen parts even as he pleasured her from the inside. She wrapped her legs around his hips, her arms around his neck and hung on for the ride.

It didn’t take long. She’d been so close that in a dozen or so thrusts, she wasn’t thinking anymore. She was feeling how he stretched her, savoring every aroused nerve ending quiver, giving herself over to the promise that any second now she would explode.

She came with a cry, her body shuddering, drawing him in deeper. She lost herself in the pleasure. He pushed in faster and deeper, taking everything she offered, drawing out her release until she was too weak to do much more than lean into him. Then he was shuddering, as well, going still, his hot breath fanning her cheek.

They stayed like that far longer than she would have thought possible. When she was sure he had to be ready to collapse from holding her, he slowly slipped back, gently lowering her legs to the floor. When she’d regained her footing, Charity did her best to straighten only to find she was still a little wobbly. Josh grabbed her around the waist.

“You okay?” he asked.

Okay? How could she be okay? She’d just had incredible up-against-the-wall sex with a man she barely knew. Something she never did. She’d run a background check on the last guy she’d slept with, and that had been after three months of serious dating. What did she really know about Josh except he was probably going to break her heart?

“The question wasn’t supposed to be that hard.”

“Sorry,” she glanced into his eyes, then away. “I was thinking.”

“Dangerous, especially now.”

She tried standing on her own again and managed to stay upright. The shoes weren’t helping, so she stepped out of them, which lowered her about three inches. Her right sandal landed on top of her panties.

Physical balance wasn’t her only issue, she thought. Her head was spinning. What the hell had just happened? Not that she needed that question answered. Maybe the better issue was why. Why hadn’t she stopped to think?

He gently touched her cheek. “Are you okay?” he asked again.

She nodded, figuring he wouldn’t want to know the truth. Second thoughts didn’t begin to cover her emotional freefall. Thirty-eighth thoughts were more like it. She’d had sex with Josh. Willingly. Wildly. In those moments, in his arms, she’d been someone else.

Or the person she was always meant to be, a little voice in her head whispered.

No way, she told herself. No. That wasn’t it.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Her shirt was still tucked into her skirt, but was hanging back down over her butt. Her bra was somewhere on the floor. It only took him a few seconds to look decent again, but she had a tougher road. Rather than risk struggling, she pulled up her shirt and reknotted it, figuring she would deal with the bra and panties later. When she was leaving.

Unless she was supposed to leave now.

She’d never been one for casual sex and honestly, she didn’t know the rules.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, his hazel-green eyes staring deeply into her own.

“I doubt that.” He would have to be beyond psychic to make it through the maze that was her mind.

“I don’t do this every day,” he told her. “The rumors, the things people say, they’re not true.”

“They’re mostly true,” she said. “The first week I was here, I saw that woman waiting in your room. I haven’t seen her around town, so I figure you imported her.”

“No. I didn’t ask her to be there. Hell, I didn’t know her. She got someone in housekeeping to let her in.”

Information she was sure he thought she would find comforting. “Now you’re going to tell me you told her to get dressed and sent her on her way.”

“I did.” When she would have looked away, he touched her chin. “I mean it, Charity.”

The funny thing was, she wanted to believe him. Talk about confusing.

He took her hand and drew her into the room. A single lamp in the corner provided a little light. He flipped on a couple more.

“Can I get you something?” he asked. “Wine? Coffee? Dessert?”

She hesitated. Wine sounded good, but she couldn’t face the thought of one of the room-service people seeing her in Josh’s room, then telling the entire town about it.

He motioned to his left. “I have a private stash.”

She followed the movement.

What he had was a mini-fridge and a small under-the-counter wine refrigerator.

“Something red?”

He grinned. “My favorite color.”

While he picked a wine, she collected her bra and panties, then ducked into the half bath in the corner. By the time she was done straightening and had returned to the living room of his suite, he’d poured them each a glass and turned on the gas fireplace.

“Now you’re going for the romance thing?” she asked. “Isn’t it a little late?”

“You mean because I already got the girl?” He led her to the sofa and settled next to her.

“You got the girl in a bright and shiny new way. You have a lot of upper body strength.”

“I should accept the compliment with a knowing smile,” he said as he put his arm around her. “Instead I’ll tell the truth, which is that it’s all about leverage.”

She winced. “Not sure I wanted to know that.”

“Why?”

She stared at the fire, trying not to enjoy the moment too much. “Not the mechanics. The fact that you have so much experience that you can talk about them. It’s scary.”

He angled toward her, which meant his warm arm wasn’t around her, but he left his hand on her shoulder. “I won’t lie to you. I had a great time when I was in my early twenties. I was a well-known athlete and women were everywhere. I took advantage of that.” He gave her a slow, sexy smile. “It was fun.”

And he was telling her this why? Because it wasn’t making her feel any better.

“I’m not that guy anymore,” he said. “I grew up a long time ago. But people don’t want to believe that. They like the legend and stories that go with that. If I’m still the guy on the poster, then they get glory by association.”

She could almost understand that. “The opposite of the old saying that you can’t be a hero in your hometown?”

“Yeah. I can’t stop being a hero.” He grimaced. “That sounds arrogant. I’m not trying to be a jerk. I’m just saying that’s how it’s been with me for years. This town took care of me. They looked out for me and they feel they’ve earned a piece of me. They like thinking I have a different woman in my room every night because it feeds the story and they like how that story plays.”

She thought about him riding his bike, coming back sweaty and everyone assuming it was because he was out getting lucky.

“It’s not like you want to correct the assumption,” she pointed out. “You don’t tell them differently.”

“I don’t want them to know the truth.”

That he couldn’t ride, she thought. He didn’t want to spoil the fantasy.

“I got divorced about two years ago,” he told her. “I dated a little after that, but nothing came of it. I moved back here, and since then…” Now it was his turn to glance away. “Let’s just say it’s been a hell of a dry spell.”

“Thank you. That makes me feel better. I’ve never been good at being one in a crowd.”

“Me, either.”

“What? There’s no crowd.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, please. Do not even pretend I’m sleeping with Robert,” she told him. “We’ve had all of three dates. Besides, he’s not my type.”

“That’s not what you were saying earlier.”

“You annoyed me,” she told him. “On purpose. What was I supposed to say?”

“You annoyed me, too.”

“How?”

“You went out with him.”

Oh.

Talk about unexpected. Charity glanced at Josh, then away. She sipped her wine, more for something to do than because she was thirsty. Her confusion faded and she found herself feeling a little gooey inside. Maybe the wild wall sex wasn’t the smartest decision she’d ever made, but maybe it hadn’t been a total mistake.

“I won’t be going out with him again,” she murmured.

“Good.”

She glanced at Josh from under her lashes. “He, ah, has a fondness for the Civil War. One of the bedrooms is devoted to miniature displays of various battles. There are buildings and roads and little tiny trees.”

His mouth twitched. “I’m sure a lot of research goes into making those.”

“I’m sure it does.”

She shifted so she was facing him, tucking her right leg under her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, because I’m not really a sports person.” She paused. “So how good were you?”

He laughed. “I was the best. Ranked number one, and for a couple of years that was against Lance Armstrong. You name a race and I’ve probably won it. I had multimillion-dollar endorsement deals. I still have a couple. I was on the cover of every racing magazine and most sports-related publications. I’ve been in People’s sexiest issues a couple of times.”

“I read People,” she murmured, knowing she would have looked at his picture as just one of the pretty people who weren’t real. “Now I’m getting scared again.”

“Why?”

“It’s the rock star thing. I never had that fantasy.”

“I can’t play guitar.”

“You know what I mean. The fame. I never wanted any association with someone well known. My life is quiet and I prefer it that way.”

“I’m not famous now.”

“You are, but it’s different here. I told you my mom and I moved around a lot when I was young. All I ever wanted was a place to belong. Roots. Connection. Family. Mostly family. I don’t need to be important to the world. In fact I don’t want that—too much responsibility. But I do want someone to care, if that makes sense.”

“It does.”

* * *

THE LAMP BEHIND THEM caught the lighter tones of Charity’s soft brown hair. It played with the side of her face, making her eyes seem larger and more mysterious. She had a look about her, a combination of satisfaction and “what the hell was I thinking?”

Not that Josh had any answers. The sex hadn’t been planned, but it sure had been good. One second he’d been pissed about her date with Robert and how unexpectedly good she’d looked, the next he’d been hell bent for taking anything she offered. He wanted her again, but slower this time. He wanted her in his bed, naked, with all the time in the world to explore her body, touch her soft skin. He wanted to taste her everywhere. He wanted to make her come in a thousand different ways. He wanted to lose himself in her over and over again. So much for being a guy who didn’t ever get involved.

“You have the Hendrixes,” she said. “They’re your family.”

It took him a second to remember what they were talking about. “They’ve always been good to me. Denise wanted a daughter. After three boys she was desperate to try one more time. She really wanted a girl. She got three.”

Charity’s eyes widened. “Must have been a shock.”

“Uh-huh. By the time I moved in, the girls were about three. They were a handful. Still are. Denise was pretty sick after they were born. For a while, the doctors were afraid she wasn’t going to pull through. The boys were scared and there were three babies to worry about. To make the kids feel better, their dad said they could name the triplets.” He grinned.

“That sounds like trouble.”

“Not so bad. They’re Nevada, Montana and Dakota.”

“It could be worse.”

“I heard Oceania was in the running.”

She winced. “Okay, then Montana is a whole lot more mainstream than that.” She looked at him. “You enjoyed living with them.”

“I did.”

“Everyone here has ties,” she said, sounding wistful. “A history.”

Josh swore silently. At times like this, he really hated the position Marsha had put him in. The secret was hers to keep or tell, but the longer she was quiet, the worse it was going to be.

“I think it’s better if no one knows what happened tonight,” he said quickly, to distract her.

Charity’s head snapped up. “What?”

“People will talk, what with you being new and all in town.” He shrugged. “I don’t want anyone to know you’re using me.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Using you?”

“You took advantage of me. Tempted me with your feminine wiles so you could trick me into having sex with you.”

She put her glass of wine on the coffee table and launched herself at him. Fortunately his drink was also safely on the table, so he was able to catch her.

She wiggled and twisted, shrieking, not quite hitting him, but coming close. He wrapped his arms around her and held her still.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“Because if you were trying to hurt me, you failed.”

“I know.” She shifted so she could glare at him. “I’m not using you for sex.”

“You didn’t even buy me dinner first.”

She shrieked. “You’re the guy.”

“Great. So you not only took advantage of me, you’re sexist, too.”

“Dammit, Josh.” She shoved at his chest, then dropped her head on his shoulder. “You make me crazy.”

“I do what I can.”

She chuckled. “I’ve never known anyone like you.”

“I get that a lot.”

“I didn’t mean it as a compliment.” She looked up at him again, her expression serious. “About what we did… It would probably be better if we didn’t talk about it. You’re right. I am new in town and while I do believe you’re not the wild man everyone thinks, no one else does.”

“I know.” He cupped her face, then kissed her. “You’re not the type to enjoy being another notch on my bike.”

“I’ve never heard it put quite like that, but it gets the point across.”

As she stared at him, looking both worried and hopeful, he knew she wasn’t trying to be cruel. That in her world, privacy mattered and her reputation was everything. A reputation he could destroy with a casual comment or two.

He’d been living in the public eye for so long, he’d forgotten what anything else was like.

She smiled slowly. “Is there a fan club? I should probably join.”

“I’ll get you an application. The dues are reasonable and you get an autographed picture of me, suitable for framing.”

She laughed. “Really? Is it that bare-butt shower shot?”

“How do you know about that?”

“Sheryl, my assistant, had it as part of her screen saver. I had to ask her to remove it.” She lowered her voice. “It’s not exactly appropriate for a work setting.”

“Probably not. You don’t have to worry. The fan club doesn’t send out the butt shot.”

“Too bad. It was impressive.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good.”

She was stretched out across him, her body nestling against his. Despite his recent release, he could feel the need building up inside of him. Once again, the image of taking things slow, of learning every inch of her body, filled his mind.

But this wasn’t the time. What had happened earlier had been spontaneous. Taking her to his bed would imply more than he was willing to offer right now. He might not know everything about Charity, but he knew she was the type who got involved first. Who gave her heart along with her body. He wasn’t anyone to be trusted with a good woman’s heart.

So as much as he wanted to lower his head and kiss her again, he instead shifted out from under her. He rose, and then pulled her to her feet.

“I’m going to walk you home.”

“I know the way.”

“Maybe, but the streets are dangerous. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“My door is about five feet from yours. What could happen?”

“You never know.”

She smiled, then picked up her sandals and her purse. He followed her to the door.

She reached for the handle, then turned back to him. “You’re nothing like I thought.”

“Don’t be telling people that. If anyone asks, I’m a god in bed, remember.”

“Oh, you’re that. It’s just…” She placed her fingers on his cheek. “Someone who’s as famous as you, as successful, as good-looking, could easily be a real jerk. You’re not. You care about people. You understand. I know my opinion doesn’t mean anything, but your ex-wife was really stupid to let you go.”

He’d been given thousands of compliments over the years. Maybe more. Women had praised everything from his looks to his equipment. Most of the time, he’d known they were simply trying to get what they wanted.

Now, as he stared into Charity’s pretty eyes and saw the earnest truth there, he knew she meant what she said.

“Thank you,” he said.

She gave him a quick smile, then opened the door. Seconds later, she was safely in her own room, and he was alone in the hallway. As he walked the few feet back to his room, he realized it had been a very long time since anyone had believed in him. No, that wasn’t true. He’d always had supporters. The only person who mattered who didn’t believe in him was himself.

* * *

JOSH SLEPT LIKE A ROCK, woke early and got to his office a little before seven. Eddie arrived at seven-thirty, dressed in her yellow velour track suit, and glared at him.

“This is my quiet time,” she announced. “What are you doing here?”

“Working.” He didn’t bother mentioning it was his office and he employed her. Eddie wouldn’t see the point of the statement.

“You’re never here before eight. You better not make a habit of coming in early.”

He winked at her. “I’ll do my best.”

“Did you at least make coffee?”

He pointed to the pot.

She sighed. “Sometimes, you’re not half bad.”

She poured herself a cup, then returned to her desk. He could still hear her grumbling, probably at him, but ignored the sound. He had needed to focus on the proposal his attorney had sent over. A potential investment in the form of a shopping mall in Las Vegas. When the real estate market bottomed out, a lot of commercial properties went into foreclosure. Now they were available for pennies on the dollar, especially for an investor willing to pay cash.

He reviewed the demographics of the immediate neighborhood, the list of current renters and the retail competition. The corner lot of two busy streets was prime, and if he didn’t like the tenant mix, he could always change it.

“It’s Steve,” Eddie called.

Josh looked up. She was waving her phone at him.

“Steve, your former coach. Tall guy, balding.”

“Thanks. I got it.”

He and Steve hadn’t talked in months. Maybe over a year. Josh hadn’t needed a coach after he retired.

“Morning,” he said when he’d grabbed the phone. “You’re up early.”

“I’m in Florida. It’s practically noon here. How’s it going?”

“Good. And with you?”

Steve grunted. “I’m working with a bunch of kids. A lot of potential but no discipline. They’re like puppies, too easily distracted. A pretty girl in a bikini walks by and they go crashing into each other. It makes me tired.”

Josh leaned back in his chair. “Anyone special?” He meant the riders, not the girl, but knew Steve would figure that out.

“There’s this one guy. Jorge. Poor family, didn’t start riding seriously until high school. He has a lot of catching up to do, but I think he has it.”

“Looking for sponsorship?” Josh had been approached before. So far he hadn’t been willing, but if Steve thought the guy was worth it, he could consider the investment.

“I wasn’t, but let me think about it. You’d want to come see him ride before you decide.”

Josh hadn’t thought that far ahead, although his former coach was right. He would have to fly to Florida before making a decision. Which meant stepping foot back in the world where he’d once been king. Something he’d been avoiding for the past two years.

“But Jorge isn’t why I called,” Steve told him. “It’s about the charity bike race. You heard we lost our corporate sponsor.”

“That’s what happens when the CEO steals the pension fund and runs off with his secretary.”

“Apparently.” Steve sounded frustrated. “You know these races happen all over the country and normally I wouldn’t bother you, but this is different. The proceeds go to support medical research for juvenile diabetes and my sister’s kid has it, so it’s personal. I saw your town was asking for more information, and I figured you were behind that. I wanted to talk to you personally, to do what you could to get them to say yes. Everything is in place. We have a lot of great riders lined up. You’d get to see a lot of friends. And Jorge will be racing, so it would save you a trip. Hell, we’d even let you enter if you wanted to stage a comeback. You were always the best, Josh. No reason to think that’s changed.”

Josh felt as if someone had slugged him in the gut. “I, ah, haven’t been training,” he said, knowing his night rides had kept him in decent shape but nowhere near ready to compete. Assuming he ever could. Hell, at this point, just the thought of it had him shaking like a little girl.

“There’s time,” Steve told him. “You know what to do. If you’re interested. You retired too early, Josh. I know you were shaken by what happened to Frank, but walking away didn’t bring him back.”

“Always the coach.”

“I try. Can you help with the race?”

Josh had been wrestling with his demons for two years now. So far they’d won every round. Maybe it was time for a little payback.

Before he could come up with an easy list of why this was a massive mistake, he said, “I know a few people in town. I can make the race happen.”

“That’s great. I owe you. Anything, Josh. I mean it.” Steve paused. “Are you going to ride?”

No. He couldn’t ride with a five-year-old on a bike with training wheels. There was no way he was ready. If he said yes, he would only humiliate himself in front of the best riders in the sport. Word would spread and everyone would know he was a frightened, broken loser. Not much of a legacy.

“Josh?”

Dammit it all to hell, he thought and held the phone so tightly, he was surprised it didn’t snap. “Sure,” he said, hoping he sounded casual instead of terrified. “I’ll ride.”

CHAPTER TEN

“OBVIOUSLY THE MISSING money is our primary concern,” Marsha said from her place at the head of the table. “I had an unpleasant call from the governor this morning. It’s not an experience I want to repeat.” She sighed. “I’m not blaming you, Robert, I’m just frustrated.”

“So am I,” he said. “You’ve hired an auditor. She’ll be here next week. In the meantime, we’ve already begun our own investigation. Three quarters of a million dollars is a lot of money to lose.”

Charity heard the worry in his voice and understood the cause. He was the treasurer and the money had gone missing on his watch. He had to be frantic. She wished she could help, but her accounting expertise was limited to a single class she’d taken in college and barely passed. Math wasn’t exactly her thing.

The morning meeting had started right on time, with several items on the agenda. Charity enjoyed the review of everything going on in the world that was Fool’s Gold. Normally the items were discussed in order, but for the past thirty minutes, Pia had been squirming in her seat.

Charity tried not to stare, but it was difficult to ignore Pia’s eager expression and tapping foot.

Marsha made a few notes on the pad in front of her, then glanced at Pia. “I assume you’re not trying to tell me you have to go to the bathroom?”

“No.”

“Then why don’t you tell us what is obviously the most exciting news ever.”

Pia grinned. “I can wait my turn.”

“Perhaps, but then you’ll so annoy one of the city council members that she’ll snap and kill you. What is it, Pia?”

Pia cleared her throat. “Remember that bike race that lost its sponsors and had nowhere to go? We’re getting it! I’ve spoken with the committee leaders and they’re very excited about the opportunity to bring their event to our town. The bike race is only one day, but there’s a celebrity golf tournament, as well. We’re talking three, maybe four nights of people staying.”

She paused as the council members started murmuring to each other.

“That’s huge,” Gladys said. “Four nights? We’re talking some major revenue.”

“It’s going to be a logistical nightmare,” Alice said. “I’ll need overtime approval and money to hire a few temporary people to help with crowd control.”

“Get me an estimate,” Marsha told her. “Pia, do you have a full report prepared?”

“I just found out this morning. I’ll have it to you tomorrow. Most of the preliminary work is done. We did that golf tournament last year, so I’ll use that for a blueprint. I’m talking to Josh later, to get a feel for the race.”

Gladys raised her eyebrows. “Is that all you’ll be getting a feel for?”

“Not everyone has your thing for Josh,” Pia told the older woman.

“Name one woman who doesn’t.”

Most of the women chuckled. Charity did her best to look as if she was enjoying the joke without drawing attention to herself.

Last night was burned into her brain. She couldn’t believe what had happened, what she’d done. She’d never been that wild or uninhibited in her life and she’d certainly never made love with a guy she barely knew.

And yet…she couldn’t seem to find even a hint of a regret. Not only because the physical experience had been incredible, but because the more time she spent with Josh, the more she actually liked him.

Now, as Pia went into more detail about the race, Charity wondered how he would handle the news. It would probably upset him, she thought, feeling sympathy. His past would be discussed, the press might even want interviews. Plus, having all those racers in town would remind him of everything he’d been forced to walk away from.

If he were anyone else, she would suggest that he head out of town for the weekend and avoid the circus. But Josh wouldn’t. He would stay and be available and not let anyone know how it was eating him up inside.

“There’s more,” Pia said, her eyes bright with excitement. “I saved the best for last.”

“I’m not sure how there can be more,” Marsha told her.

“There is. Josh is going to be riding in the race. He’s making his comeback right here in Fool’s Gold.”

Conversation exploded. Everyone was talking over everyone else. Even Alice looked happy about the news. Charity did her best to join in the moment, but it was difficult for her to get her mind around the information. Josh racing? How could he?

She’d heard the pain in his voice when he talked about the accident and his inability to ride with anyone. Wouldn’t racing mean training and exposure? Wouldn’t the whole town see what he was doing?

Even as she asked herself the questions, she wondered if that was the point. If he’d decided to face the problem head-on. If he was successful, it would be an impressive moment. But if he failed, the world would know. Talk about jumping in the deep end. She didn’t know if she should admire him or tell him to think about therapy.

Marsha called for order and the meeting resumed. When it was finished, Charity made sure she walked out with Robert. They had some unfinished business.

“I had a great time last night,” he said as they headed down the hall. “What are you doing this weekend?”

She winced silently. She waited until they’d stepped into her office to speak.

“Thanks for inviting me over,” she began. “Your home is lovely. Especially the garden. The thing is, while I would love for us to be friends, I don’t see us having a romantic relationship.”

He frowned at her. “I don’t understand. Last night I thought you had a good time.”

“I did.” A polite lie, she told herself.

“Is there someone else?”

“No.”

Not a lie. Yes, she and Josh had done the wild thing, but that did not a relationship make. After all, it wasn’t as if she was in love with him.

“When we first went out, I thought I was ready to get involved,” she said. “But I’m not. I’m busy with working and getting settled. You’re great, Robert. I know you’ll find someone.”

“In this town, finding someone is the easy part,” he said, sounding more confused than annoyed. “I guess I understand. I thought you were special, Charity. That’s why I wanted to get to know you better.”

“I appreciate that.”

“If you’re sure?”

“I am.”

“Okay.”

He left. She returned to her desk, relieved there hadn’t been anything remotely uncomfortable about their conversation. A cheap lesson, she told herself. Workplace romances were innately difficult. She should avoid them.

Josh didn’t work in City Hall, a little voice in her whispered. Interesting, but not significant, she told herself firmly. Josh was a fantasy. She was looking for someone real. Although the way she’d felt in his arms last night had been about as real as it could get.

* * *

“MY LIFE IS INSANE,” Pia said, two days later, as she sat across from Charity at the Fox and Hound. “I’m loving the idea of the bike race, but talk about extra work. I may come after you for help when it gets closer.”

“Absolutely,” Charity told her.

“I’m lining up a team, then figuring out what volunteers can do. Crystal’s really excited about the whole thing, especially Josh coming out of retirement.” Pia grinned. “Like the rest of us, she once had a thing for him. Before she met her husband.”

“It does seem to be a universal condition,” Charity said, hoping she sounded both friendly and neutral.

“Crystal’s great at organizing, but with her being sick, she can’t always be available. Still, I’ll take what I can get.” She scanned the menu. “The Josh angle is the best part. It’ll give us a lot more press than we would have gotten otherwise. I never understood why he retired when he did. He was at the top of his game. That last season, he couldn’t lose. It was amazing to watch.”

Until the race where Frank died, Charity thought, knowing the loss had devastated Josh and stolen a piece of him.

The server came and they placed their orders. When she’d left, Pia leaned toward Charity. “You look great. That jacket is adorable. Am I allowed to say that?”

Charity laughed. “Yes. Pia, it’s fine. I told you before, I appreciate your blunt, albeit drunk, honesty about how I looked. I’m having fun remembering how to do the girly stuff. I’m even getting highlights.”

“They’d look good on you.” Pia sipped her diet soda. “The problem is where to go. The two best places in town are owned by two sisters who have a serious rivalry. Not only for clients, but for gossip. Each of them has to be the first to know anything. If you’re loyal to one, you’re the enemy of the other. I get around the problem by alternating back and forth. They try to pin me down, but I won’t let them.”

“That sounds like a lot of work.”

“It is, but worth it to keep the peace. You’re still living at the hotel, aren’t you? There used to be a salon there, but it closed. How is it living like the rich and famous?”

“Not so rich and certainly not famous. It’s fine until I can find a place of my own. I get a special rate through the city.” Compliments of Josh, she thought. Marsha had told her about the discount when she’d hired Charity.

“I’ve started looking for a house to buy,” she continued. “There was one place I saw that was terrific. It’s a restored craftsman-style house. I love everything about it except the price. I heard the owner would be willing to bargain, but even then I’m not sure I can swing it.”

Pia frowned. “Which house is that?”

Charity told her the street. “There’s a wide porch and a beautiful backyard. I love the mature trees on the street.”

“Who told you the owner was willing to deal?”

Charity tried not to feel trapped. “Um, Josh mentioned it.”

“Did he?” Pia’s mouth turned into a knowing smile. “He must really like you. He put a lot of money into that property and was expecting top dollar for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“He owns the house. He bought it a few years ago and fixed it up. Actually he was still racing then, so he had the work done. He used it as a rental, then decided to sell it. I know a few people are interested and he’s not lowering the price for them.”

Pia’s expression turned speculative. “He’s always put business before the ladies, but that seems to be changing.”

Charity did her best not to blush. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t know Josh owned the house.”

“You do now.”

“But he didn’t tell me.”

He hadn’t even hinted when he’d shown her the house. Although looking back, she should have guessed something was up when he’d had a key.

“Why would he do that?”

Pia raised her eyebrows. “You tell me.”

“We’re not together.”

“Maybe he wants to be.”

“No. Guys like him don’t…” She shook her head. “He’s too…”

“Rich, successful, hot?”

“I’m not his type.”

“How do you know?”

“Then I’ll pose it as a question. Am I his type?”

“Until today, I would have said no. But maybe times are changing.”

* * *

CHARITY LEFT HER LUNCH with Pia nearly as hungry as when she’d arrived. She’d only been able to pick at her salad, mostly because she was thinking about Josh and the house and what Pia had said.

It made no sense for him to give her a break on the price when other people would be offering him more. It implied a relationship they didn’t have. The fact that he’d done it before the “incident”—as she was now thinking of it—should have helped, but only made the situation more confusing.

Just as mind-bending was Pia’s implication that Josh might be interested in her. He wasn’t. His ex-wife had been some gorgeous actress. Charity was going to have to go online and find out who, exactly. But the point was, he was not someone orbiting in her universe. Interested? On what planet?

Yes, they’d had sex, but only because they’d both been carried away by the moment. Her more literally, but still. She refused to read too much into a single evening of hot lovemaking. That’s how hearts got broken.

She did her best to push any thoughts of Josh out of her mind, only to have them resurface when she saw his offices up ahead. Maybe she should simply ask the question outright. Why was he giving her a deal on a house when he didn’t have to? Asking him was the adult, mature thing to do. She squared her shoulders and walked into the building.

* * *

“THERE’S SOMEONE HERE to see you,” Eddie told Josh. “She doesn’t have an appointment. She being the operative word here. Although I’ll give her credit. She’s not like the usual groupies who come looking for you. She’s out of her teens, for one thing, and dressed like a regular person.”

Josh wasn’t in the mood to dash anyone’s hopes this afternoon. He had a lot to deal with, including figuring out how he was going to start training—a relatively easy problem to solve—while dealing with an irrational inability to ride with other people. A problem with a less clear solution.

“You can handle her,” he told Eddie.

“I can, but I don’t want to. She claims you know her. Charity Jones.”

He was out of his seat before she’d finished speaking. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“I just did. Are you giving me attitude?”

He ignored her outrage and went out to the reception area. Charity stood in the center, looking nervous and determined. She managed a faint smile, which made him want to promise to fix whatever problem she had.

“I didn’t have an appointment,” she told him. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure. You don’t need an appointment.”

“It would be nice if someone made one,” Eddie said with a sniff.

Josh pointed to her desk. Eddie sighed heavily before returning to it. He put his hand on the small of Charity’s back, leading her to his office and then closing the door behind them.

“Your assistant has a lot of personality,” Charity said.

“She’s efficient and takes care of me.”

“I like her.”

“Me, too. Not that I want her to know.”

Charity’s smile turned genuine. “She’d use it against you forever.”

“Tell me about it.”

He motioned to the sofa and chairs in the corner. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Iced tea?”

“I’m fine. I just had lunch with Pia.” She sat in a chair.

He took the center of the sofa. “What’s going on?”

She clasped her hands together. “I’m not sure where to start.”

She didn’t sound worried, which was good. As he didn’t have a clue as to what she wanted to talk about, he simply waited. Checking out the view filled the seconds. She wore a short jacket over a lacy shirt and black pants. Very “woman in charge,” a look he enjoyed. It made him think about taming that power, and making the lady in question weak with longing.

“That house we went to,” she began, forcing him to ignore the fantasy of a naked Charity writhing under him.

“You want to make an offer?”

“Not exactly. You own that house.”

He wasn’t sure how she found out, but he wasn’t surprised, either.

“Does it matter who’s selling it?”

She drew in a breath. “You’ve had other offers. People who can pay more than me.”

“I put a lot into that house. I want it to go to the right person.”

“You’re giving me a break on the price that you’re not giving them.”

Normally he would have been happy to take credit for being a great guy, but there was something in her tone, in the way she stared so intently.

“And that’s bad why?” he asked.

“How much of the town do you own?” she asked. “I know about the hotel. Do you own this building? More houses?”

“Want to see a profit and loss statement? My accountant prepares one every quarter.”

“No. Of course not. But you’re rich.”

“By some definitions.”

She shook her head. “Don’t play games. You’re successful and rich and gorgeous and great in bed.” She sucked in a breath. “Well, I can’t say about the ‘in bed’ part, but you obviously know what you’re doing and you do it well. And you’re nice.”

Her tone told him she wasn’t trying to compliment him. The last statement had come out like an accusation.

“Okay,” he said neutrally.

She stood, so he rose. She faced him.

“It’s so not fair. Why can’t this be easier?” she asked.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. Answering the question would be less of a problem if he knew what they were talking about. “I, ah…”

“Sure. For you,” she grumbled. “You get whoever you want. You practically have women being delivered by room service.”

“I don’t do that.”

“I know. I didn’t mean that, exactly. It’s just you could if you wanted. And you don’t, which means more points for you.”

“Charity? What are we talking about?”

She glared at him. “My life. My sucky love life. I don’t get it. Is it genetic? Karma? Did I do something bad in a previous life?”

He stood there, feeling helpless. “There’s nothing wrong with you.” She was pretty and smart and funny and when she smiled at him, he had the feeling that he could do just about anything.

“Isn’t there? Look at Robert. Isn’t he nice? Calm and pleasant and looking to settle down. But there’s not a scrap of chemistry. I couldn’t do it. I tried, but I couldn’t do it. And he would fall in the column of my more successful relationships. My first boyfriend hit me. Just once, but he did it.”

Josh’s hands curled into fists. “Where is he now?” he asked, his voice low and angry.

“It was ten years ago,” she said. “I walked out and never saw him again. But still. It made me wonder. My second serious boyfriend cleaned out my savings account. Talk about feeling stupid. The last one…” She sighed. “I’m not even going there. It’s too humiliating. And now there’s you. I like you. I like you a lot. Which means all I can think is if I like you then what on earth is wrong with you?”

With that, she turned and left.

Josh stood in the center of his office, trying not to grin like a fool. She liked him? Hot damn!

* * *

CHARITY STALKED OUT of Josh’s office, feeling foolish and exposed and a thousand other things that weren’t very pleasant. Her head was spinning, her chest felt tight and if she were the type to give in to tears, she would be having a breakdown right here on the sidewalk.

Instead she kept moving, head held high, smiling at people on the street. She saw Morgan in his bookstore and waved at the old man. He grinned back.

Now that was a simple relationship, she thought, trying to grit her teeth. She understood all the elements of it. She and Morgan were friends. They said hello, talked about the weather and went on with their lives. No complications. No handsome, hunky guy messing with her head.

What had she been thinking, telling Josh she liked him? Were they in high school? “Tell Bobby I like him, but only if he says he likes me first.”

She was confused, upset and unsettled.

Despite the fact that her mother hadn’t been the most maternal of women, Charity found herself wishing she was still alive so that she could ask for her advice. As silly as it sounded, right now she could use a hug from her mother. Or an aunt. Even a long-lost cousin would be good.

She walked into City Hall and started up the stairs. At the top, she passed Marsha, walking out of the break room with a cup of coffee.

“How was your lunch?” the mayor asked.

“Good. Pia’s always fun.”

“She is. She was a bit of a terror when she was younger.” Marsha frowned. “What’s that expression? She was a mean girl.”

“Pia?” Charity couldn’t imagine it.

“She was pretty and popular and wanted her way. Not a good combination in a teenager. But she turned out well.” Marsha sipped her coffee. “Is everything all right? I don’t mean to pry, but you look… I’m not sure. If I had to pick, I would say you look sad.”

Charity forced herself to smile. “I’m fine. Missing my mom, a little. She died several years ago. I guess that’s something you never get over.”

Marsha stiffened and the color drained from her face.

Charity moved toward her. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. Of course. The loss of a mother is always tragic. I still miss mine and she’s been gone over thirty years.” Marsha squared her shoulders. “Charity, would you please come with me into my office.”

“Sure.”

Charity followed her. Something was wrong, she could feel it, but she had no idea what it was. Had she done something wrong? Had she crossed a line talking about something personal?

When they reached Marsha’s office, the mayor did something Charity had never experienced before. Not in Fool’s Gold. She closed her doors. Then she led the way to the small conversation area by the wall.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” Marsha said when they were both seated. “I’ve been waiting for the right time. Which is the coward’s way of saying I didn’t know how to tell you. I suppose the best way is to simply blurt out the words.”

Charity did her best not to go to the bad place. Possibilities flashed through her mind. Marsha was sick and/or dying. Charity was about to be fired. The town was going to disappear into a giant sinkhole. But no scenario prepared her for what came next.

Marsha leaned forward, lightly touching Charity’s arm as she gave her a gentle smile. “I’m your grandmother.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHARITY WAS GLAD SHE was seated. There was no way she could have stayed standing after hearing Marsha’s announcement.

“My…”

“Grandmother. Sandra Tilson, or as you knew her, Sandra Jones, was my daughter. Do you need some water?”

Charity shook her head. The words made sense, but she couldn’t accept their meaning. Grandmother, as in family? Sandra had always told Charity they were alone in the world, that they only had each other. Although Charity was sure her mother would have easily withheld that kind of truth if she wanted to. Sandra wasn’t a bad person, but she’d been determined to live by her own rules.

Now, in the quiet office of the mayor of Fool’s Gold, Charity stared at the sixty-something woman sitting across from her and looked for the truth in her eyes.

She thought it might be there in the shape of the jaw, the particular shade of her eyes. Just like her mother’s. But a grandmother?

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

Marsha rose and crossed to her desk. She opened a side drawer and pulled out a slim photo album then walked back and handed it to Charity.

Charity ran her fingers across the red leather cover, almost afraid to open it.

“My husband died when I was very young and our daughter was still a toddler,” the older woman began. “Having her helped me survive the grief. We were so close. She was a lovely, friendly child. So smart in school. But when she became a teenager, everything fell apart. She began to rebel.”

Marsha clasped her hands together on her lap. “I didn’t know what to do,” she admitted. “I tried loving her more. I negotiated with her. Then, when things only got worse, I grounded her. Made the rules tougher. I became a controlling, dictatorial parent.”

Charity continued to hold the album. “She wouldn’t have done well with a lot of rules.”

“You’re right. The tighter I held on, the more she tried to slip away. I’d always been strict, but I became impossible. She responded by skipping school, going to parties, drinking and using drugs. She and a few friends were arrested for stealing a car. I was humiliated and at my wit’s end. I didn’t know how to get through to her. Then she told me she was pregnant. She was barely seventeen.”

Marsha drew in a breath. “It was too much. I completely lost it and screamed at her like no mother should. I accused her of ruining my life, of planning ways to embarrass me. I think at that second, I hated her.”

She dropped her head a little. “I’m so ashamed now. I would give anything to have that moment, those words, back. Sandra glared at me with all the loathing a seventeen-year-old is capable of and said she would make my life easier. She would go away. I remember I laughed and told her that my luck wasn’t that good.”

Marsha swallowed and met Charity’s gaze. “She was gone the next morning. I couldn’t believe it. That she would really leave. I was convinced she loved her creature comforts too much to give them up. But I was wrong.” Tears filled her eyes.

Charity leaned toward her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You had a fight. Mothers and daughters fight. My mother and I—” She paused. Her mother might possibly be Marsha’s daughter. Could they really be talking about the same person?

“I appreciate you taking my side, but I know what I did and where the blame lies. With me.” A single tear slipped down her cheek. She brushed it away. “She disappeared. I don’t know how she did it, but she was gone. Totally and completely gone. I couldn’t find her. I looked and looked, hired professionals, begged God, sent flyers across the country. There wasn’t a trace. Finally, nearly three years later, we got a break. One of the detectives I’d hired sent me an address in Georgia. I was on the next plane.”

Hearing the story was like listening to a recap of a made-for-TV movie, Charity thought. She was compelled, but not involved. This wasn’t about her. In theory, she was part of it, but she couldn’t feel the connection to events.

“You were so beautiful,” Marsha said, her smile trembling. “I saw you first, playing in the yard. You were pushing a little plastic baby carriage around the lawn. You were about two and a half. Sandra was sitting on the step, watching you. The house was small, the neighborhood terrible. All I wanted to do was gather you both up and bring you home. Back here, to live with me.”

Which didn’t happen, Charity thought, not daring to wonder how her life would have been different if she’d grown up in a place like Fool’s Gold. A small town where people cared about each other. A place where she could finally have roots.

“She was still angry,” Marsha whispered. The smile faded. “So angry. She wouldn’t let me say anything, wouldn’t listen to my apology. There was such rage in her voice and her eyes. She told me to go away. That she never wanted to see me again. She said if I tried to see her or you, she would make sure you both disappeared again, and that I would never find you. I was devastated.”

Marsha drew in a breath. “Sorry. It’s been a long time, but it feels so recent. So raw. I explained I had changed, learned from my mistakes. I said I wanted her back in my life. Both of you. She didn’t care. She said she was done with me, with the rules and expectations. She was doing fine on her own and repeated that if she ever saw me again, she would disappear and I would never find either of you.”

Charity’s chest tightened as she saw the other woman’s pain. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. There was a part of her that said Sandra wouldn’t have done that, except she knew it was more than possible. When Sandra made up her mind, she couldn’t be budged. There was no going back. More than one of Sandra’s men had discovered that too late to keep her.

“I came back home,” Marsha said. “I was broken inside. I knew it was all my fault.”

“It wasn’t,” Charity told her firmly. “You made a mistake, but you wanted to make it right. No one is perfect. We all make mistakes. It was Sandra’s decision not to listen. Not to give you a second chance.”

“Perhaps. I tried telling myself that. The truth is I tried to control every aspect of Sandra’s life. Most children would have had trouble with that, but for Sandra, it was impossible to stand. Knowing that it was because I’d lost my husband, and was terrified that if I didn’t handle everything, yet another tragedy would invade my life didn’t seem to help.”

She pressed her lips together, then spoke. “I left the two of you. I didn’t know what else to do. I thought about keeping tabs on her, but I was afraid she would find out. Years passed. The memories faded, but not the longing, the wondering. I thought about the two of you all the time. Ten years later, I hired another detective, to see if she could be found. He located her easily. The boy who had been your father…” Marsha’s voice trailed off. “I’m saying too much.”

Charity reached across the space separating them and touched Marsha’s arm. “I know he died. She told me. I’d been asking a lot of questions. While I could believe my mom didn’t have any family, I knew I had to have a father. Once he was gone, I stopped asking questions.”

She’d been twelve, Charity remembered. Sandra had come in her room. They’d been living in a rented mobile home, in a park at the edge of Phoenix. Charity recalled everything about the room, the view out of her small window, the sound of the dripping faucet as Sandra told her that the boy who had gotten her pregnant had gone into the military and he’d been killed. A helicopter crash.

Marsha squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. I thought it would make a difference, but it didn’t. She never answered my letter and when I sent the detective to check on her, she was gone. Just like she’d promised. I’d lost her all over again.”

She shrugged. “So I gave up. I stopped looking. Stopped hoping. I accepted that I’d chased away my only child and moved on with my life. Then a few months ago, I decided to try again.”

Charity’s chest tightened. “You hired another detective?”

Marsha nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “It didn’t take him long to find out my baby girl had died. Cancer. He said it took her quickly.”

Charity nodded. She’d had time to get used to the loss of her mother, but for Marsha, that news was fresh. Still painful. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, realizing that when it came to Sandra everyone had been sorry except Sandra herself.

“It was a shock,” Marsha admitted. “She was my only child. Shouldn’t I have known? Guessed? Felt it in my heart? But there was nothing. No warning. I mourned her. I mourned what could have been. What I had thrown away.”

“No,” Charity said firmly. “You aren’t completely responsible. Yes, you made mistakes, but so did she. The whole time I was growing up, I begged her to tell me about my family and she wouldn’t. She refused, because what she felt was more important than what I wanted. She died, leaving me alone in the world, and never bothered to tell me the truth. I had you all this time and she never told me.”

Now Charity was the one fighting tears. “I hated moving around. I would beg her to stay, but she wouldn’t. When I was a junior in high school, I told her I was done. I was going to graduate from that high school. She promised to stay as long as she could. It was six months, and then she took off. I stayed. She sent me money when she could and I worked part-time. The rental was cheap enough. She wasn’t even worried about me. She said I would be fine. She didn’t even come back for graduation.”

She turned to face Marsha. “Tell me you would have been there.”

“Yes, but that’s not—”

“The point? It’s exactly the point.”

Feelings Charity didn’t normally allow surged up inside her. She’d learned that it was better not to think about some things too much. Better to always be in control. Now, as she felt that control starting to slip, she knew she had to get away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I need to go. I’ll…We’ll talk later.”

She grabbed her handbag and hurried from the room. After racing down the stairs and out of the building, she glanced both directions, not sure where she should go. In the distance, to the left, she saw one of the three parks in town and headed there.

She wouldn’t think about it, she told herself. And there was no way she was going to cry. She never cried. It accomplished nothing and left her feeling weak.

She walked briskly along the sidewalk, remembering to smile at people she passed. She reached the lush green park in a couple of minutes and ducked down one of the tree-lined paths until she found an empty bench. Once there, she collapsed and tried to sort out everything spinning in her head.

Her reaction to her mother keeping the information about Marsha to herself was obviously an emotional misdirect. Better to be pissed at Sandra than think about all she’d lost. All she’d missed out on.

She had family. A grandmother. And if wasn’t for her own mother’s stubborn ways, she could have spent the past twenty-eight years knowing her.

Marsha Tilson. Which meant Charity’s last name was probably Tilson and not Jones. Jeez, had Sandra even bothered to change her name legally before slapping “Jones” on Charity’s birth certificate?

She heard footsteps and angled away from the path. At least there weren’t any tears to wipe away. She braced herself to have to make polite chitchat, then nearly fell off her seat when she saw Josh moving toward her.

He looked concerned and uneasy, not to mention his usual stunningly handsome self.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey, yourself.”

He paused in front of her. “I’m here to make sure you’re all right.”

How could he possibly know what was going on? There hadn’t been enough time for him to hear the story from Marsha. Unless he already knew.

“When did she tell you she was my grandmother?” she asked, not sure if she was pissed or not.

“The day before the first interview.”

The interview. The job. “Oh, God,” she whispered. “Marsha hired me because I’m her granddaughter.”

He sat next to her and put his arm around her. “She hired you because you were the best one for the job. She didn’t make the decision by herself and you weren’t the only candidate. It was a group decision. Don’t you have enough on your plate without going there?”

“Maybe,” she admitted, relaxing against him. She didn’t want to. She wanted to be strong all on her own. But it felt so good to lean into his strength. As if he could hold all of her problems at bay.

“Who else knows?” she asked.

“Just me. She needed someone to talk to. Then after you got here, she wanted me to keep an eye on you.”

Charity sat straight up. “What? Is that why you’ve been so nice to me? Did you sleep with me because my grandmother told you to?”

He grinned. “Want to run that last sentence by your common sense? What grandmother asks a guy to sleep with her only granddaughter?”

“Oh. You’re probably right.”

“Probably?”

Some of her outrage faded. She sagged back against him. “My head hurts.”

“It’ll get better. You need a little time to take everything in. But if you’re going to have some surprise family, she’s the one to have. Marsha’s one of the good guys.”

“I know, but it’s so strange to think about. She’s known about me all my life. She wanted to be a part of things. She wanted us to be together.” Her eyes began to burn. She blinked away the sensation.

“My mother was the most stubborn person in the world,” Charity whispered. “She was totally unconventional. She didn’t care if I ate cake for breakfast, or what time I went to bed. She said she’d grown up with too many rules, that she didn’t believe in them.”

She glanced at him. “It sounds great in theory, but the truth was, I would have liked a few rules. I had to take responsibility for everything myself. I knew she wouldn’t. I was making sure there was food in the house by the time I was nine and handling the bills by the time I was twelve. I wanted to be a kid, but I was too scared of what would happen if no one was in charge.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, stroking her hair. “You should have had better.”

“I had better than a lot of people. I never went hungry. I had clothes and a roof over my head.”

A pretty low bar, Josh thought, seriously pissed, but determined not to show it. The last thing Charity needed was to deal with his feelings. This was about her.

“She wasn’t a bad person,” Charity said. “Sandra loved me.”

Another point he wouldn’t argue, but he didn’t believe Sandra was all that good a person. He doubted Marsha had been a perfect mother—no one was—but she’d always led with her heart. She was tough, but fair. No one changed that much and the woman he’d known since he was ten years old was giving and loving, and if she’d been strict, there would have been a reason. He would know—she’d looked after him, offering advice and support.

He knew she’d supplemented dozens of kids’ college educations, gave both money and time to several charities and ached for the one thing she’d lost—a family.

To his way of thinking, the fault was Sandra’s. Not for running away, but for insisting that Charity not have anything to do with her grandmother. It was one thing for Sandra to hold a grudge, but she’d had no right to impose those rules on her daughter.

“I don’t know what to think,” Charity admitted.

“Give it time. Things have a way of getting clearer.”

“I ran out on Marsha. I have to say something to her. Explain.”

“She knows you were overwhelmed. That’s why she called me.”

“The neutral third party?”

“The brilliant and hunky guy who will distract you.”

Charity managed a smile. “Oh, right. Silly me.” She straightened. “You’re right. I need to give it time. This has been a huge shock and I don’t have to do anything about it right now. I can live with the information, then decide what it means to me.”

“An excellent plan.”

The smile faded. “The worst of it is, I can’t get closure. Not totally. Sandra’s gone and I can’t go back and ask why she never told me about my grandmother.”

“She had her reasons,” he said carefully, not wanting to step into anything unpleasant.

“Stupid ones.” She stood. “Okay. I need to get back to work. That will distract me.” She lightly kissed him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You didn’t have to come after me. I would have been fine.”

“I enjoy a good rescue.”

Her dark eyes stared into his. “You’re a really nice guy.”

He pressed his index finger to his mouth. “It’s a secret. Don’t tell anyone.”

That earned him another smile. “I think word has already gotten out.”

* * *

DEMONS CAME IN ALL shapes and sizes. Josh’s were in the form of twelve guys from the local high school. They ranged in age from fifteen to eighteen, mostly skinny and awkward-looking on the ground, but they could fly like the wind on bikes.

Coach Green, a tall, skinny guy about Josh’s age, practically danced in place. “This is the best,” he said, grinning. “I raced in college. Nothing like you did, of course. I didn’t have the raw ability. But man, I wanted to be just like you. I can’t tell you how excited we all are to have you working out with us.”

Josh swallowed against the tightness in his chest. It didn’t help. The worship in Coach Green’s voice was only making a crappy situation even more potentially disastrous. What the hell had he been thinking when he’d agreed to participate in the race? It wasn’t that he was going to get his ass kicked—it was that he was going to humiliate himself in front of the world. Everyone was going to know he was a sniveling, frightened coward. Talk about a shitty legacy.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a bike,” Josh lied. His last ride had been the previous night. But it had been what felt like fifteen lifetimes since he’d ridden with anyone else. Stood next to other riders. Heard the sounds, exchanged conversation, then focused on the race.

Even looking at the kids who kept glancing at him, he felt the bands lock around his chest. He couldn’t breathe, but that was the least of it. What killed him was the mind-numbing terror. Anywhere but here, he told himself. He’d rather stand in fire than go through this.

“The guys will go easy on you,” the coach joked.

Only it wasn’t a joke and no one knew, Josh though grimly.

Green called the guys over. They walked their bikes toward him, their young faces bright with anticipation. They introduced themselves. A couple shook hands with him.

He’d seen most of them around town. He recognized their faces. Now he was supposed to ride with them. “Josh is coming out of retirement for a charity race in a few weeks,” Coach Green said. “He’s going to be training with us until then.”

“Sweet!” one of the guys said.

“I’m old and out of shape,” Josh said. “Be gentle.”

The guys laughed.

Coach Green yelled for them to line up and start the warm up.

Josh moved behind the kids. He’d go in the back, he thought. Keep the other riders where he could see them. A few miles at an easy pace would be good.

A whistle blew. The riders pushed off and cycled away. Josh waited until they were at least a hundred yards ahead before starting himself. He focused on moving the bike forward, of warming up his muscles, of the familiar feel of what he did.

It had been two years since he’d ridden during the day. He’d forgotten how bright everything was, the colors of trees and buildings as they passed in a blur. There was a light wind and the temperature was in the sixties. Perfect, he thought.

The kids in front of him had picked up the pace, so he did, as well. Inside of him, something woke, stirring to life. A burning need to reach them and pass them. The desire to win.

The sensation surprised him. He would have thought humiliation would have crushed any competitive spirit he had left, but obviously not.

Without any kind of a plan, he pedaled harder and faster, easily closing the distance between him and the students. One of the guys noticed and yelled something. The pack sped up. Josh continued to gain, feeling the blood moving through his body, the rush when he realized all he was capable of, knew that he hadn’t lost everything.

“No way, Golden,” one of the kids yelled as he reached them. “You’re not beating us.”

They crowded together, around him. Moving close to trap him between them.

Their tactic was obvious and not especially skillful. He knew the maneuvers to outflank them. He didn’t even have to think about it—the movements were instinctive.

Only he couldn’t do it. The instructions flowed from his brain to his muscles, but somehow never arrived. Maybe it was the coldness seeping into his body. The chill that told him he was afraid. Maybe it was the memories flashing so quickly that he couldn’t see anything but Frank soaring through the air before falling to his death. Suddenly Josh couldn’t breathe. Cold sweat broke out everywhere. His muscles cramped painfully, forcing him to stop.

He didn’t remember moving, but suddenly he was beside his bike, hunched over, waiting for his heart rate to return to something close to normal. Nausea rose inside of him. He shook like a frightened, dripping dog.

When the kids started to turn, to come back and check on him, he waved them off. After he pointed to his bike, they nodded and waved, then continued their ride. They would assume he had a flat or something mechanical had gone wrong. With luck, they would never guess the truth.

As much as he wanted to compete, as strong and powerful as the drive was within him, he couldn’t do it. That part of him, the pieces that made him whole, were shattered beyond repair. None of the trophies sitting in boxes mattered. There wasn’t enough money in the world to make this right. He was a loser and a coward, and the hell of it was, he didn’t know how to make any of it better.

* * *

SATURDAY AFTERNOON, CHARITY walked the short distance between the hotel and Marsha’s house. Despite the weeks she’d been in town, she’d never been to her boss’s house before. Not that she was visiting as Marsha’s employee. Instead, Charity was going to see her grandmother for the first time in her life.

Grandmother. The word felt strange. She couldn’t seem to grasp the whole meaning of what she’d been told. For the past couple of days she’d alternated between happiness and confusion. She’d wanted to be a part of a family for so long, she couldn’t believe it had finally happened.

She was also wrestling with anger, mostly at her mother. Maybe Sandra hadn’t wanted anything to do with Marsha, but she’d had no right to keep Charity from that relationship. Especially after her death. Why hadn’t she told her own daughter that she had other family? Sandra had known how much Charity had wanted to belong somewhere. Yet she hadn’t bothered to leave a note, or even a hint.

As Charity approached the house, she did her best to push away the annoyance she felt. She didn’t want to start her afternoon with Marsha in a bad mood.

She turned the corner and saw the white house Marsha had described. It was two stories, in a craftsman style typical of the area, probably built in the 1920s. There were elements that were similar to the house Charity had fallen in love with. The house Josh wanted to sell her at a discount. Something else she’d yet to come to terms with, she thought humorously. Who could have known her life would go from fairly boring to wildly confusing in a matter of a few days?

She walked up the three steps to the wide porch and knocked. Marsha opened the door almost immediately.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” the older woman said. “Come in.”

Charity stepped into a bright, open living room. Something about the combination of colors, furniture placement and windows made her want to sink into one of the overstuffed seats and never leave.

“Thanks for having me,” she said, feeling a tiny bit awkward.

Marsha had replaced her usual well-tailored suits with jeans and a long-sleeved blouse. Her white hair was more casual, soft waves rather than a bun. She linked arms with Charity.

“Instead of dancing around the topic, I thought we’d face it head-on,” she said, leading the way to the stairs. “Let’s go look at Sandra’s room. I’m hoping you can get a sense of what her life was like before you were born.”

“I’d like that,” Charity told her.

They climbed the wide staircase and turned left at the landing.

“The last door on the right,” Marsha said, releasing Charity. “Nothing has been changed, I’m afraid. Despite my best intentions, I turned my daughter’s room into a shrine. I’m sure any number of psychologists would have plenty to say about that.”

Her tone was easy, but Charity saw the flash of pain in her eyes.

Not knowing what to say, she walked toward the open door. When she reached it, she turned and looked at the bedroom that had belonged to her mother.

The whole room had been done in shades of lavender, her mother’s favorite color. A full-sized bed was covered in a purple and lavender quilt. Built-in bookcases flanked the bed. The shelves were crowded with books, knick-knacks and pictures. There were posters on the wall. A very young Michael Jackson and a group Charity wouldn’t have known except for the word “Blondie” in script at the bottom.

She stepped inside the bedroom and walked to the desk. School books were still stacked. A half-written essay on Julius Caesar was next to them. A gold flower necklace on a thin chain lay carelessly across the paper.

She moved to the shelves and studied the pictures. Sandra was in nearly all of them. Her mother with her friends, at a school dance. The familiar smile made her chest ache, but other than that, she felt no connection with the room or the former occupant.

“All she took were some clothes and money,” Marsha said from the doorway. “Nothing else. There wasn’t a note. She never said goodbye.”

“I’m sorry,” Charity said, not sure how to ease Marsha’s pain. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think her constant moving on was about you. She loved new places. We’d settle somewhere for a few months and then she’d start talking about the next place and the next. Where we were going was always more exciting than where we were.”

Charity looked around at the room. The pretty curtains, the small collection of worn stuffed animals shoved carelessly in a corner. Something like this was exactly what she’d dreamed about when she’d been younger. A place to call her own. Nothing fancy—just a regular kind of home. Yet her mother had walked away from it and had never looked back.

“I wish she’d told me about you,” she said.

“Me, too.” Marsha’s eyes were sad again. “I wish I’d been more understanding of who she was. She desperately wanted to go away to college, but I always said she had to stay here. I was such a fool. Controlling and unyielding. I had to be right. In the end, being right cost me my only child. If I’d—”

“No,” Charity said, cutting her off. “She would have left anyway. It’s what she wanted. I don’t think there’s anything you could have done to change her.”

“You can’t be sure about that.”

“Yes, I can,” Charity said, trying not to sound bitter. “I knew her.”

“Perhaps,” Marsha said. “I still have that album for you. It’s downstairs.”

Charity nodded and followed her back to the living room. Together they looked through pictures of Sandra. There were laughing photos of a toddler, then more familiar poses and smiles as she got older.

Marsha gazed lovingly at each photo. She told stories about when they were taken and what happened next. Charity shifted uncomfortably on the sofa.

“Is this why you hired me?” she asked abruptly. “Because I’m your granddaughter?”

Marsha smiled at her. “While I did want the chance to get to know you, I have devoted most of my life to this town. I wouldn’t have risked the future of so many just to have you around. When we hired the recruiter to fill your job, I gave her your name. I said I’d heard good things about you, but that was all. She wouldn’t have put you on the slate if you hadn’t been an excellent candidate.”

That made Charity feel better. “Will people be upset when they find out? Won’t they think you tricked the city council into hiring me?”

“You’ve been in meetings. You know how stubborn everyone can be. Do you really think I could have convinced them to hire an unqualified candidate?”

“No,” she admitted. “They would rebel.”

“Exactly.” Marsha touched her arm. “You’re very good at what you do. You’re honest, caring and you have a fresh perspective. You have the experience necessary and the energy to get the job done. You’re the one we wanted. I would have hired you even if you hadn’t been my granddaughter. I hope you believe me.” She hesitated. “I know that coming to meet you directly would have been more straightforward, but I was terrified. I thought by bringing you here, we could get to know each other.”

Charity nodded. “It’s okay. I understand why you’d be cautious. I want to get to know you. I want us to be family.”

“We already are,” Marsha told her. She smiled again, but the sadness had returned to her eyes. “You’re probably still trying to figure this all out. Do you want to pick this up another time?”

“If you don’t mind,” Charity said, grateful Marsha understood. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“We have time,” Marsha told her, rising. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Charity stood and started for the door. When she reached it, she turned and hugged Marsha. The older woman hugged her back. The brief embrace made her feel both better and worse. The nagging sense of having lost nearly twenty-eight years tugged at her.

As she stepped out into the afternoon, she wondered what she could have done to make the outcome different, but knew there was no answer. She’d been a kid, dependent on what her mother told her. Even if she’d wanted to go looking for family, she hadn’t known Sandra’s real last name. After her mother’s death, she’d gone through her things and hadn’t found even a hint about her life before Charity had been born.

If only, she thought sadly. But there was no way to change the past. There was only the future and what she chose to do with her life.

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHARITY RETURNED TO the hotel and climbed the stairs toward her room. She wrestled with dozens of emotions, most of which she couldn’t identify. Without thinking, she stopped in front of Josh’s door and knocked.

It was a Saturday afternoon, she reminded herself. He wasn’t likely to be there. But seconds later he opened the door, looking as gorgeous as ever in a T-shirt and jeans. He needed a haircut, she thought, taking in the slightly shaggy hair. And a shave. She had to admit the scruff looked good on him.

“Hey,” he said, motioning for her to come in. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing bad. I went to see Marsha.”

He shut the door behind her, then took her hand and led her toward the sofa. But when they got there, she couldn’t sit. She felt restless and uneasy.

“Why?” she asked, facing Josh. “She was my mother. I know she cared about me. She knew I wanted to be part of a family. She knew that mattered to me more than anything. But she didn’t tell me, not even when she was dying. Not even after she was dead. That’s all it would have taken. A little note with a name and an address. But she didn’t bother.”

Charity couldn’t reconcile the information. “So where does that leave me? Was she just incredibly selfish or am I fooling myself, thinking she gave a damn about me?”

He reached for her.

She shook her head. “No. Don’t. I need to say this.”

He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “Then I’ll stand here and listen.”

She drew in a breath. “When I was a junior in high school, we moved again. I told her this was the last time. That I wanted to graduate from a school I’d attended for at least a year. I made her promise.” She struggled against the memory but it was everywhere, surrounding her with how things had been.

“Did she keep it?”

“No. She left and I stayed. I had a job and the rent on our mobile home was cheap. She sent money every now and then. I got by and I graduated with my class. I had friends. I was able to send out college applications and know I would still be at the same address when they sent the answers. But she wasn’t.”

Charity felt the burn of tears and willed them away. She didn’t cry. Giving in accomplished nothing.

“She didn’t come to my graduation. It was too far and she didn’t have the money. I told myself I was fine, but I wasn’t. I wanted someone there, someone to see me take this momentous step. She didn’t bother and she didn’t tell me there was someone who would care, who would take the time to be with me. She kept that from me, and there’s no good reason. How am I supposed to tell her how pissed I am? She’s dead.”

He reached for her again and this time she went into his arms. He might not have the answers, but he was warm and strong and for a few minutes she could pretend that everything was going to be all right.

He stroked her hair, then ran his hand down her back. She rested her head on his shoulder and breathed in the scent of him.

“My mom left, too,” he said. “I was ten.”

Charity remembered Marsha telling her the story. She pulled back enough to look into his eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be whining.”

“You’re not whining.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I’m saying I understand what it’s like to be abandoned by the person who’s supposed to love you best in the world. By the time I was old enough to go look for her, it was too late. She’d died. I was angry. Beyond angry. I wanted her punished. I wanted her to pay, but mostly I wanted her to tell me why. Why did other moms give up everything for their children and she couldn’t even stay? Was it me? Or was it her?”

She saw the pain in his eyes. The questions that would never be answered.

“Eventually you make peace with it,” he told her. “You make peace and you move on.”

Maybe, she thought. But there was a scar from the wound and sometimes that scar ached.

She raised herself on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his. Her kiss was gentle, sharing. He responded in kind. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the heat that flooded her body. There was something to be said for a dependable chemical reaction.

His hands dropped to her waist, then her hips. He urged her closer and she went willingly, her body nestling against his. She parted her lips and he deepened the kiss. She met him willingly, enjoying the stroking of his tongue against hers, giving herself over to the blood rushing through her body.

Wanting began low in her belly and spiraled out in all directions. Her breasts began to ache. Between her legs, she felt that telltale combination of tension and dampness. Anticipation sharpened.

He cupped her rear, causing her to arch against him. She felt his arousal against her belly and the memory of how he’d felt inside her, of what he’d done to her body, made her moan. He moved his hands up and under her thin short-sleeved sweater. His fingers were warm against her bare skin, moving deliberately across her ribs, then cupping her breasts through her bra.

Everything about his touch was perfect, she thought as he caressed the curves and brushed his thumbs against her tight, sensitive nipples. She closed her lips around his tongue and sucked.

Now it was his turn to moan. But instead of starting to remove clothing, he pulled back, then took her hand and led her into the bedroom.

The king-sized bed dominated the space. The layout was similar to hers, with an armoire, a desk and a view of lush gardens. None of which interested her, she thought as he reached for the hem of her sweater and tugged it over her head.

Her bra followed, leaving her bare to the waist. He stood in front of her, gazing at her breasts, anticipation darkening his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, before bending down and taking her left nipple in his mouth.

He licked the tight tip several times before sucking in deeply. The tugging drew waves of pleasure from deep inside of her. She felt a rush of heat and dampness between her legs. A heightening of her arousal. His day-old beard teased her skin. He bit down gently, taking pleasure to the level of exquisite, then sucked again.

She had to hang on to him to keep from sinking onto the thick carpet. When he moved to her other breast and repeated the process, she found it difficult to breathe.

More, she thought, wanting them both naked and on the bed. It was time for more.

She tugged at his T-shirt, giving him a not-so-subtle hint. He straightened and pulled it off in one easy, fluid move. She stepped out of her sandals. As he unfastened her jeans, she ran her hands across his smooth, bare chest. Defined muscles felt like stone. He was sculpted male beauty, she thought, pressing her mouth to the center of his chest before moving to his flat nipples.

She licked until he caught her face in his hands, tilted her upwards and kissed her on the mouth. Then they were each pulling off the last of their clothes. When they were naked, he grabbed her around the waist and they tumbled onto the bed.

She landed on her back, him on his side, facing her. He lowered himself so he could kiss her breasts again. This time as he drew her nipples in deeply, he put a hand on her belly.

Her legs stirred restlessly. Her attention was equally divided between what he was doing with his mouth and the slow, steady journey his fingers took down, down, down.

At last he reached between her legs. She parted her thighs for him, then sucked in a breath as he slipped between the folds of skin and found her swollen and damp center.

The man had a fabulous sense of direction, she thought hazily as he began to explore that tight bundle of nerves. First he circled, teasingly close, but not actually touching. Around and around, moving slow enough to make her impatient. Then he lightly brushed across it with a single finger. She shuddered. When he did it again, she knew he was going to bring her to the kind of release that shook the world.

But instead of settling into a steady rhythm, he shifted so that he was between her legs. He pressed his mouth against her in an intimate kiss. The feel of his lips, the sweep of his tongue, the light abrasion of his stubble all conspired against any self-control she might have left.

Electricity shot through her at that first second of contact. Delicious need burned away shyness or pride. She opened her legs wider and arched her hips in a very clear invitation. One he accepted.

He ran his tongue over every inch of her. He dipped into her swollen and ready center, then returned to that single point of exquisite pleasure. He rubbed it with the flat of his tongue, teased it with the point. Then he closed his lips around the engorged flesh and sucked.

Charity felt the tension build. It grew until she had no control, no choice but to lose herself in the trembling release that shuddered through her. She grabbed onto the blankets, tossed her head from side to side and clenched her teeth to keep from screaming.

Josh continued to caress her gently, drawing out every drop of bliss until she was weak and breathless.

When the last wave had ebbed, he shifted so that he was on his knees. He opened the nightstand, grabbed a condom and quickly put it on. Then he was in her, filling her, taking her deeply, thoroughly. She hung on for the second half of the ride.

Later, when they were both breathing normally, lying facing each other, his hazel-green eyes bright with contentment, she traced the outline of his perfect mouth.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she murmured.

“Yeah, I did.”

She smiled. “You know what I mean. Thank you for…” What? Distracting her? Making her realize that she hadn’t really known what good sex was supposed to be before now?

“Charity,” he said, staring into her eyes. “I want you. I’m a guy. It doesn’t get more complicated than that.”

The words were oddly comforting. “Do you get every woman you want?”

“No.” He shrugged. “It’s different with you. Better.”

“I aim to please.”

“You do good work.”

She laughed. “So do you. All that practice has really paid off.”

“Knowing what to do is the easy part. Finding the right person to do it with is a whole lot harder.”

Sweet words that made her chest ache a little.

Not him, she reminded herself. He fell in the category of “too much.” Too good looking, too charming, too famous. She wanted regular. She’d seen what happened when a woman fell for the wrong kind of guy. It had happened to her mother enough times.

Thinking about Sandra destroyed her good mood, so she focused on something else.

“I haven’t seen you around in the past few days. What’s been going on?”

He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. She snuggled close, loving the feel of his naked body next to hers.

“I rode with the high school team yesterday.”

She half sat up. “Really? How did it go?”

He lightly circled her nipple, then drew her against him again. “Badly. I couldn’t do it. I pretended there was something wrong with my bike.” He swore. “Talk about a loser.”

He wasn’t that, but telling him wouldn’t make a difference, she thought sadly. He needed to believe in himself. But was that possible?

“Have you thought about talking to someone?” she asked. “A professional?”

“A shrink? No. Sitting around and talking about my feelings isn’t going to help.”

“You don’t actually know that.”

“Yeah, I do. I tried it after the accident and it didn’t help.”

She sighed. “You tried it what? One time, then gave up? You’re such a guy.”

“That makes the sex less awkward.” He looked at her. “Want to stay? We could order in, watch dirty movies on pay-per-view, take a bath. I have a spa tub.”

Make love, she thought, losing herself in his mesmerizing gaze. “You know how to tempt a girl.”

He rolled toward her, stopping when he was above her. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, the corners of his mouth turning up.

“That’s a yes and a please and a let’s do it again.”

* * *

SUNDAY CHARITY DRAGGED herself from Josh’s bed. She was having lunch with Pia, and Josh had to go work out. As she showered and dressed, she found it difficult to keep from smiling all the time. Every part of her body seemed satisfied and the little aches were a delicious reminder of how they’d spent their night.

By noon she was walking toward Pia’s place. She had the top floor in an older building. The large single-family home had been divided into three apartments. Charity climbed the stairs and knocked on her friend’s door.

“Hi,” Pia said with a grin. “Are you winded by the climb?”

“I’m on the third floor in the hotel and I take the stairs there.”

“Built-in exercise,” Pia said, closing the door behind her. “I’m so not the gym type. I have a great deck. I thought we’d eat there.”

“Sounds good.”

Pia’s place was bright and airy, with lots of windows and large rooms. The sloping ceiling added character and everywhere Charity looked was a splash of color. The sofa was lipstick red microfiber with patterned pillows. There was a purple and yellow throw on the back of an old wooden rocking chair and travel stickers pasted on an old steamer trunk that served as an end table.

“This is great,” Charity said, following Pia into a bright green kitchen. “I love the colors.”

“I’m not a beige kind of girl. I’ve done most of my decorating at garage sales and flea markets. I have a thing about finding a bargain.” She pointed at the flowered plates sitting on a rack on a shelf. “Eight plates for two dollars. It was a proud moment for me.”

“Impressive.”

“Thank you.”

Pia picked up a tray of sandwiches and salads, then motioned to another tray with iced tea in a pitcher and two glasses. Charity collected it and they went out onto the large balcony.

The day was sunny and warm. They could see most of the town, a bit of the lake and the mountains beyond.

“A view of the kingdom,” Charity teased.

“Exactly. I look at the little people and wonder about their lives.”

They settled into lunch and talked about what was going on in Fool’s Gold.

“Does Alice have any information on the thefts?” Charity asked. “I haven’t heard if the person stealing has been caught.”

“Last time we talked, she was still searching for the culprit. I hope whoever it is stops before Alice finds them. She can be scary. Of course the loss of a few packages of Easy Mac is a whole lot less interesting than the missing money from the state.” She curled her feet under herself and sipped her tea. “Three quarters of a million dollars. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“It’s a life changer,” Charity said. “I just don’t understand how that kind of money goes missing.”

“Me, either, but accounting isn’t my thing. I guess that’s why the city is bringing in an auditor. Poor Robert. I wouldn’t want the responsibility or anyone thinking it was me.”

“It’s not Robert. Does anyone think it is?”

“Not really. That would require a level of creativity he doesn’t have.” Pia covered her mouth. “Sorry. That sounded mean. I just meant…”

“He’s not that guy,” Charity said with a grin.

“Exactly.” Pia reached for a half a sandwich. “So what did you do yesterday?”

Charity blinked, not sure which of her many activities she should choose from. Remembering her afternoon and night with Josh made her think she might blush, so she blurted the only other thing she could think of.

“I spent some time with Marsha. I just found out she’s my grandmother.”

Pia’s eyes widened with shock. “What? You’re Sandra’s daughter?”

“Yes.” Charity briefly explained everything she’d learned about in this last seventy-two hours.

“That’s amazing,” Pia said, still looking stunned. “You are so lucky. I would love to have Marsha for my grandmother. She’s always taking care of everybody. If someone needs help, she’s right there. Sandra was an idiot to run off.” She winced. “Okay, I’m putting my foot in my mouth more than usual today. Sorry.”

Charity assumed Pia thought she would be insulted about the comment aimed at her mother. “I agree. I don’t know why she was always running. Some of it was the men in her life. She chased after gorgeous, hunky guys, all of whom were lousy bets. When they moved on, she followed. I swore I would never be like that.”

“So you’re not interested in Josh.”

The statement was unexpected. Charity didn’t mean to react, but she had just taken a sip of her tea and nearly choked on it. As she coughed and sputtered, Pia looked on knowingly.

“Uh-huh. Just as I thought. You’re a little too cool around him. Something’s up. Tell Auntie Pia everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Do I look like I believe that? Because I don’t.”

Now it was Charity’s turn to feel uncomfortable. “I know better,” she began. “Men like Josh are a disaster.”

“But you’ve fallen for him.”

Charity covered her face with her hands. “Sort of. But he’s a really nice guy.”

“Don’t tell him you said that.”

“I won’t. He’d be wounded.”

“You and Josh.” Pia looked speculative. “Okay, I have to know. Is he the god everyone claims?”

Charity sighed. “The rumors are not wrong.”

“That’s what I need in my life. Hunky hot sex. Like that’s going to happen.” She glanced at Charity. “Josh really is a sweetie and I totally adore him, but you need to be careful. He’s famous and everything that goes with that. His ex is an actress. Very beautiful. He’s been linked with some amazing women.”

“You mean he’s not for us lesser mortals?”

“I’m saying don’t get your heart broken.”

“Speaking from the voice of experience?” Charity asked.

“I’ve had my share of cracks, but so far nothing fatal.”

“I appreciate the concern, but you don’t have to worry. I’m not in love with him.”

“Good. Because loving Josh would be a hard road for anyone.”

* * *

“ARE YOU TRYING TO get me drunk?” Charity asked when the server left the table.

Josh leaned back in his chair. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. You’re the one who warned me about the margaritas here.” She angled toward him. “Alcohol is not required to have your way with me.”

“I know. It’s one of your best qualities.”

They were having dinner at Margaritaville. The place wasn’t too busy on a Sunday night, so they’d gotten a booth in the back. Somewhere they wouldn’t be disturbed.

The soft light added a golden glow to Charity’s brown hair. She wore it loose and a little curly—a sexy look he enjoyed. Her mouth curved into a smile and there was a look of complete satisfaction in her eyes. He liked knowing he’d been the one to do the satisfying.

“How was your afternoon?” she asked. “You rode through town?”

“Uh-huh. I got a lot of support from the locals.”

“They know about the race. They want you to do well.”

At this point he just wanted to get through it without humiliating himself further. Why couldn’t he have something normal wrong with him? A bad back. A disease of some kind. Something that could be fixed with a pill or rest and an ice pack.

“How was Pia?” he asked.

“Good. We had fun.” She shook her head. “She knows we’re, um, that we’ve…” She cleared her throat. “You know.”

“That we’re seeing each other?” He wasn’t sure what was so hard about saying that.

She looked slightly relieved. “That. I wasn’t sure about… So that’s what we’re doing?”

“Isn’t it?”

She shifted on the seat. “I didn’t know. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever gone out with. You’re famous.”

“Oh, please.”

“Your ex-wife is a big star.”

“She’s a b-list star at best.”

“But beautiful and famous. I’m a regular person.”

He reached across the table and took her hand. “The whole famous thing is highly overrated, and you are definitely beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You don’t believe me?” he asked.

“No, but thanks for the compliment.”

“I’m not that guy you see on the poster. Not anymore. Even if I got it all back, I wouldn’t want to be him.”

She didn’t look as if she believed him. “There had to be things about that life you enjoyed.”

“Sure, but been there, done that.” He squeezed her fingers. “I like you, Charity. I want to keep seeing you.”

“I want that, too.”

“Then we have a plan.” He pretended worry. “It includes sex, right?”

She smiled. “If you’re lucky.”

“I’m always lucky. Didn’t they tell you?”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“THIS IS BERNICE JACKSON,” Robert said at the next city council meeting.

The tall, pretty redhead grimaced as she stood. “Bernie, please. Bad enough to be an accountant, but an accountant named Bernice? I don’t think so.”

Charity smiled. Gladys leaned toward her.

“Figures,” the older woman muttered. “How many forensic accountants out there in the world are men? I’d say most of them. But do we hire a good-looking guy? Of course not.”

“If you think that then you shouldn’t care that there isn’t another man moving to town,” Charity said, doing her best not to smile. “However temporarily.”

“You’re pretty smart,” Gladys conceded.

“Thank you.”

Bernie pulled out a folder and opened it. “According to my preliminary investigation, cross-referencing the information the state sent, there are multiple checks missing.” She looked up. “The total we’re talking about is close to one and a half million dollars.”

Charity sat up straighter. “That much?” she breathed.

Marsha paled. “How did this happen? How can there be that much missing?”

“I’m going to find that out,” Bernie promised. “I have some paperwork to discuss first. You’ll want to look over my non-disclosure agreement. It says that I won’t talk about this case unless subpoenaed. My goal is to protect my clients. I suggest you have the city attorney look at it before anyone signs it.”

Charity watched Marsha nod, as if she approved of what Bernie was saying. Charity found herself liking the attractive accountant, even as Gladys scowled at her for not being a man.

When the meeting broke up, Charity lingered to check the schedule for the room. She had a few meetings coming up and preferred to use this conference room for her presentations. When she had confirmed the times were open, she turned and was surprised to see Robert waiting for her.

“Bernie seems great,” she said. “Very efficient.”

“She has a good reputation. She’ll find out what’s going on.” He frowned. “The sooner the better for me.”

There was something in his tone. She moved toward him. “You don’t think people are assuming it’s you, do you?”

“I’m the treasurer. I have access to all the money coming in. My office processes the checks. If not me, then one of my staff. I don’t like how it looks. I would never do anything like that, but not everyone will believe that.”

“The important people will,” she told him.

Robert shrugged, then looked at her. “It’s Josh, isn’t it?”

The unexpected question made her stiffen. She hoped she wasn’t blushing.

“I saw the two of you at dinner,” he continued. “You looked…cozy.”

“We’re, ah, friends,” she began.

“I’m not surprised. Him being who he is. The rest of us don’t really stand a chance.”

There was something about the way he spoke, as if her falling for Josh was inevitable.

“It’s not because he’s famous,” she said sharply. “Josh is a really nice guy. He cares about people. He’s a lot more than his reputation.”

Robert’s mouth twisted. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

“It’s true.”

“Right. I still think you’re great, Charity. When he dumps you, if you want, we can try again.”

He walked out of the room. She stared after him, her mouth hanging open.

She didn’t know which of Robert’s assumptions stunned her more. The belief that Josh would dump her—not an “if” statement, but a when. Or the assumption that the only reason she wasn’t going out with Robert was because she’d been blinded by Josh’s brilliance.

She’d already made her decision about Robert before she got involved with Josh. She’d done her best to prefer Robert.

“Pinhead,” she muttered. “Stupid, egocentric pinhead.”

Funny how Josh had all the flash, but Robert turned out to be the man lacking in substance.

Yet as she left the conference room, she found herself wondering if she was blinded by Josh. She was her mother’s daughter, after all, and Sandra had always been interested in handsome, superficial men.

Charity told herself she knew what she was doing. That Josh was more than he seemed. Still, it would be up to her to make sure she really was falling for the man rather than the persona.

* * *

“WE HAVEN’T SEEN YOU here in a long time,” Bella said as she combed Josh’s hair.

“Uh huh,” he said, ignoring the not-so-subtle complaint inherent in her words.

“Your last haircut was terrible.”

He smiled. “You say that every time.”

Bella, a middle-aged woman with beautiful eyes and a will of iron, glared at him in the mirror. “I suppose she says the same thing when you go to her.”

“I’m not going to discuss that with you.”

Bella snorted. “You know I’m better.”

“Are those new earrings?” he asked. “They’re pretty.”

She fingered the gold hoops at her ears. “You’re trying to distract me.”

“Yes, and you’re going to pretend I’ve succeeded.”

Her mouth twitched, as if she were trying not to smile.

Bella Gionni and her sister Julia were the two best hair stylists in town. Unfortunately, they’d been involved in a running feud for the past twenty-five years. They had competing shops on opposite sides of town. To pick one over the other was to get involved in the fight. The problem was no one but the sisters knew the cause of the argument.

The surest way to keep the peace, and the one Josh had chosen, was to alternate his business. Each of them complained about his time with the other.

Not going to either of them would be easier, he knew, but that wasn’t an option. He owed the sisters. While he’d had most of his college paid for by scholarships, there hadn’t been quite enough to cover everything. The town had come through with funding for both him and Ethan. He happened to know that Marsha had contributed the most, but the second-largest donors had been the Gionni sisters.

“I heard you’re dating Charity,” Bella said as she began to cut his hair.

He winced. “I’m not going to talk about that.”

“Of course you are. She’s nice. I heard she’s thinking of getting highlights.” She smiled. “They’re for you, I think. I know when a woman wants to look pretty for a man.” She winked.

He shifted uncomfortably in the padded chair. “Charity and I are, um, dating.”

“More than dating, eh? I hear things, Joshua. What the ladies say.”

He so didn’t want to be having this conversation with a woman nearly old enough to be his mother. “There’s a lot of talk. Most of it is just that.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Bella continued cutting. “It’s been a long time since you went on a date.”

“A couple of years,” he admitted.

“Then it’s time to get back on the horse.”

Just the visual that Josh needed.

* * *

PIA WALKED INTO CHARITY’S office and flopped down on a seat. “Have a minute?” she asked.

“Sure.” Charity studied her friend’s sad expression. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Crystal. The last round of chemo didn’t do anything. They’ve run out of treatment options.” Pia sucked in a breath and seemed to fight tears. “She’s deciding if she wants to stay home or go into a facility. Hospice care,” she added. “She said the doctor gave her two months. Maybe three.”

Charity swallowed. “I’m sorry. How awful.” She didn’t know Crystal very well, but felt badly for all she’d gone through.

“It’s been horrible. We’d really hoped that last round of chemo would do something. Anything. She’s gotten so weak. I don’t think she can be at home by herself. And she says she likes the idea of a hospice. She says they’re actually really nice places.”

“Is it in town?” Charity asked.

“Uh-huh. I’ll get to go see her and stuff, but I don’t want her to die.” Pia wiped the tears off her cheek. “I hate this. There’s nothing I can do to make a difference. I’m taking her cat, which is the only thing I can think of to do.”

“People worry about their pets. Taking her cat will be a big help.”

“I’m not really a pet person,” Pia admitted. “I don’t know anything about cats. Crystal says he’s quiet and clean. I guess I’ll get a book or something. It’s just so unfair.”

Charity nodded. There didn’t seem to be any words.

“She’s already lost her husband,” Pia continued. “All she ever wanted was to get married and be a mom. Now that’s never going to happen. And I know she’s worried about those embryos. There’s no way she’s going to donate them to research, but they can’t stay frozen forever. Can you imagine being in her position—dying, and having to decide the fate of children you’ll never have?”

“No,” Charity said truthfully. It was an impossible decision. One no woman should ever have to make. “Does she have any family? A sister or cousin who might want the embryos?”

“No. It’s just her.” Pia looked at her. “Sorry. You were probably having a good day before I showed up.”

“I’m happy to listen.”

“Thanks.” She drew in a deep breath. “I’d better get back to work. I’m going to see Crystal tonight so I can get to know her cat a little better.”

“You’ll be a good pet mom,” Charity told her. “You’ll care and that’s what matters.”

“I hope so.” She stood. “Thanks again for letting me vent.”

“Anytime. I mean that.”

Pia nodded and left.

Charity stared after her. Crystal’s situation did seem bitterly unfair. The dilemma of the embryos was potentially heartbreaking. To have to lose everything like that.

She thought about her own life, about the second chance she’d been given to be a part of a family. It was more than a lucky break—it was a gift.

She rose and walked down the hall to Marsha’s office. Her grandmother sat at her desk. She smiled when she saw Charity.

“How’s it going?” Marsha asked.

Charity tried to smile, but couldn’t. Tears she could usually hold back with ease filled her eyes.

Marsha stood. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Charity said, going to her and holding her close. “I’m so grateful you’re my grandmother. I don’t think I said that before, but I wanted you to know.”

Marsha hugged her back. A fierce hug full of love and promise. “I’m happy, too,” she said. “It’s been a long time coming.”

Charity straightened. “I won’t go away. I’m not like my mother.”

Marsha touched her cheek and smiled. “I know that. We’ll both stay right here. Together.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE ANNOUNCEMENT FOR the special session city council meeting didn’t come with an agenda, which Charity thought was odd. Usually there was an entire list of subjects to be covered. She didn’t like not being able to prepare and as the announcement showed up in her e-mail a mere thirty minutes before the meeting itself, she didn’t have time to ask around. So she was stunned to walk into the conference and find Josh sitting at the table. Why would he be at a city council meeting?

Gladys sat next to him, batting her false eyelashes. Charity sat across and down a couple of seats, concerned about being too close and giving away her body’s predictable reaction whenever he was near. He gave her a quick grin as she took her seat. She smiled back, trying not to let anyone see she was baffled and a little annoyed. They were involved—shouldn’t he have said something?

When everyone had arrived, Marsha called the special session to order. Then she motioned to Josh.

“Thanks for coming today,” he began, then passed out a blue folder to everyone. “I want to talk about starting a bike racing school in town.”

Charity stared at him. Since when?

“I’ve been approached by a few people in town over the years,” he continued. “I never considered the idea until a few weeks ago. Then I started doing some research. Not only is there a need in the area, but a successful school brings in big money to the local community. Not just the taxes paid by the business itself, but through visitors and races.”

“Gotta have those heads in beds,” Pia said. “We need the tax revenue.”

“I’ve also been talking to some potential corporate sponsors. They’re very interested.”

Marsha didn’t look surprised by any of this, so Charity had the feeling Josh had discussed it with her.

“What would you want?” Gladys asked.

“Land. I have a few sites picked out. I have a couple of acres I could donate and Marsha owns two more that neighbor mine. The last plot is owned by the city.”

He got up and dimmed the lights, then flicked on a projector that lit up the screen on the far wall.

An aerial view of the town showed the land in question. With the exception of the bit owned by the city, it was just outside the limits of Fool’s Gold.

“We’d want to be annexed,” he said. “The taxes will be higher for us, but that will be offset by city services.” He clicked and another picture appeared. This was a rendering of a large building.

“We’re thinking indoor and outdoor tracks. Weight rooms, simulators. There would be two or three small houses where students could live while they trained. Kids still in high school would be a problem. Tutors are an option but then there’s a lack of socialization. If we could work something out with the board of education, they could attend local classes while they’re training.”

He continued to talk, explaining his well-thought-out plan. Charity listened, impressed but still a little hurt for being left out of the loop. Apparently she thought they had more of a relationship than they actually did. But she didn’t let that get in the way of her vote. She gave the idea a yes vote, as did everyone else.

When the meeting was over, she returned to her office. Josh walked in a few minutes later. He was grinning and obviously pleased with how things had gone.

“What did you think?” he asked.

“I was surprised. How are you going to have a training facility here and not ride?”

“I can’t,” he admitted. “I’ll have to be a part of things. One way or the other, I’ll beat this.”

“By boxing yourself into a corner?”

“Whatever works.” He moved toward her desk. “Did you think the presentation was well done?”

She didn’t understand the question. If he was anyone else, she would assume her opinion mattered. That he wanted to hear she’d been blown away. But this was Josh. Everyone loved him. Why would her praise matter?

“I didn’t want to say anything to you,” he continued. “Actually I did. I could have used your help. But I didn’t want to take advantage of our relationship and put you in an awkward position. If you hated the idea, I didn’t want you to feel you had to support it.”

He’d been thinking of her? Being considerate?

Her irritation faded, replaced by a reminder that it was always better to get all the facts before jumping to conclusions.

“You did fine on your own,” she told him, grateful she hadn’t been snarky about any of it. “It’s a great idea. And hey, it should bring in a lot of men, right? Gladys will be thrilled.”

“Pleasing her is what I live for.”

Charity laughed. “She’ll be delighted to know that.” Her humor faded. “I’m not sure throwing yourself in the deep end is the best way to fix the problem, though.”

“Nothing else has worked. That’s who I am. That guy who races to win. I don’t intend to do it for the rest of my life, but I want to go out on my terms. If I’d been injured, then it would be one of those things. I could accept that. But there’s nothing wrong with me. At least not on the outside.”

She could see his determination. “Okay. Apparently Fool’s Gold is getting a riding school. Are we naming it after you?”

He grinned. “Of course. I was thinking of something like ‘The Golden Institute.’”

“Sounds like a place you go to get a tan.”

“Show a little respect or I’ll tell Gladys you’re not treating me right.”

“You’re threatening me with a woman in her sixties?”

“She could take you.”

“I’m afraid she could.”

He walked around the desk, gave her a quick kiss on the mouth, then stepped back. “You have to work. Want to go out to dinner tonight?”

“Very much.”

“Seven?”

“I’ll come to your place,” she said, anticipating the time they would spend together.

“I’ll be the handsome guy. In case there’s someone else in the room.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

Charity watched him leave, then sat down behind her desk. While she appreciated that Josh felt he had to fix the problem, she was worried there was more at stake. Were his actions about leaving the sport on his terms, as he claimed, or was this about becoming that famous guy again? The star.

Because a world-class athlete wouldn’t be staying in Fool’s Gold. He would be out in the world. Far, far away from her.

* * *

CHARITY DRESSED FOR DINNER, then left her room to walk the few steps to Josh’s. But as she closed her door, she saw a pretty teenager knocking on his. The girl was eighteen or nineteen, wearing a frilly sun-dress, looking more defiant than happy.

He opened the door. “You’re right on—” His look of pleasure faded. He glanced past the teen to Charity, who raised her eyebrows.

“Haven’t got a clue,” he said, then returned his attention to the girl. “Yes?”

The girl made an attempt to smile. “It’s me. Emily.”

“Okay.”

“Emily. We met a couple of months ago at Jo’s Bar. You bought me a drink. Well, more than one. Then we came back here…” Emily glanced at Charity. “Who are you?”

“His date.”

Emily looked startled for a second, then squared her shoulders. “Whatever. This is private. Maybe you should come back later.”

“Not a chance,” Josh said, sounding certain.

Charity did her best to keep from racing to the worst conclusion.

“Why don’t you both come in?” Josh said.

Emily pushed past him and entered the suite. Charity hesitated.

He held out his hand, his gaze steady. “It’s not what you think.”

She was remembering him telling her how long it had been since he’d been intimate with anyone. At the time, she’d believed him. Did she now? Did she go with the evidence, or trust her gut? Because right now her gut was saying that Josh was someone special. Someone she wanted to get to know better.

She put her hand in his. He pulled her close.

“Thank you,” he murmured in her ear, then led her into the suite.

Emily stood behind the sofa. She looked less certain and a whole lot younger. Her hair fell in dark curls. Her eyes were wide and carefully made-up.

“Are you sure you want her here?” Emily asked, looking only at Josh.

“Yes.”

“You’ll be sorry.”

“A risk I’m willing to take.”

Emily drew in a breath and tossed her head. “I’m pregnant.”

Charity pulled back her hand. Josh didn’t let it go.

Her mind whirled and spun. Pregnant? Meaning she really had had sex with Josh?

“I’ve never slept with you,” Josh said calmly.

“You were drunk but I didn’t think you were that drunk.” Emily’s large eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe you don’t remember. You do it with everyone. I know that. But that night meant something to me and now I’m pregnant.”

The tears began to fall in earnest. “I was supposed to go to college in the fall. How can that happen now? This is your baby. You need to take responsibility for it.”

Charity felt sick to her stomach. She jerked her hand free and was grateful Emily had shown up before dinner. If she’d eaten a big meal, she would be throwing up right about now.

“How far along are you?” he asked.

“S-seven weeks.”

“Do you remember the date we had our special night together?”

There was a hint of annoyance in his voice. Not concern or worry. He obviously didn’t believe Emily. Josh was a lot of things, but he wasn’t irresponsible. She knew that much. So if he was certain the baby wasn’t his, then she would guess he hadn’t been with Emily at all.

She drew in a breath and reminded herself she was going to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“It was a Tuesday,” Emily said, still crying.

Josh folded his arms across his chest. “Here’s what we’re going to do. The three of us will walk downstairs to the gift shop where we’ll buy a pregnancy test. Then you and Charity are going to come back here where you’ll pee on the stick.” He narrowed his gaze. “With Charity watching.”

“What?” Emily demanded.

“I want confirmation that you’re the one doing the peeing.” He glanced at Charity. “To make sure she’s the one who’s pregnant. I had a woman do this a few years ago. She came back with a positive pregnancy test, but it turned out she’d brought her friend’s urine in a container. The friend was pregnant.”

“You’ve been through this before?”

Weariness invaded his eyes. “You have no idea.”

Any lingering doubt faded. She moved next to him and put her hand on his back. “Let’s go get the test.”

“I’m not peeing in front of her,” Emily said.

“Would you rather pee in front of me?” Josh asked.

“Fine.” Emily marched past them and out the door.

They all walked to the elevator and rode down. The three of them entered the gift store where the clerk, a woman in her thirties, took one look at Emily and rolled her eyes.

“Hi, Josh,” she said.

“Lisa. We need a pregnancy test. Please put it on my bill.”

“Sure thing.”

Lisa turned around and studied the collection of sundries. She grabbed a box and passed it to Josh.

They made the return trip to the third floor and walked back into Josh’s suite. He handed the pregnancy test to Charity. “Do I know how to show you a good time or what?”

She took the test.

Emily glared at them both. “I’m not doing this.”

He shrugged. “Then I have nothing to say to you. Come back when the baby’s born and we’ll do a DNA test.”

Emily’s determined expression crumbled. Tears filled her eyes, then began to pour down her cheeks. She dropped to the sofa and covered her face with her hands.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a sob. “I’m sorry.” She looked up. Her makeup stained her skin, making her look like a little girl. “You win. I didn’t sleep with you. I’m not pregnant.”

While Charity wasn’t exactly surprised, everything about the moment was still surreal.

“What do you need the money for?” Josh asked.

Emily sniffed. “College. My dad took off years ago and I have two younger brothers. Mom does the best she can, but there’s nothing left over. I have a partial scholarship. Enough to pay for tuition, but I need living expenses, too.”

“You thought I’d be an easy mark?” Josh asked, sounding more conversational than angry.

“Everybody says you’ve, you know, been with a lot of girls. I figured I could pretend and you’d pay me off.” She glanced down at her hands. “It was pretty stupid, huh?”

“It’s not a moment you’re going to remember with pride,” he said. “What’s your major?”

Emily glanced up, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“What were you going to study in college?”

“Oh. Nursing. I want to be an RN. Pediatrics.” She smiled. “I like kids.”

“Have you looked at grants?” he asked.

“A couple. It’s confusing. I really don’t want to get a bunch of loans, if I don’t have to.”

“You take the SATs yet?”

“Uh-huh.” She smiled again. “625 on English and 630 on Math.”

“Impressive.” He was silent for a minute. “After school on Monday, I want you to go to my office. You know where it is?”

“Sure.”

“You’re going to talk to a lady named Eddie. She’s my assistant.” He hesitated. “She sounds a lot meaner than she is, so don’t let her scare you off. She’ll help you with the grants. As for the rest of it, you can work for me this summer. Part-time. I’ll pay you minimum wage, if you want. Or I won’t pay you anything, but I’ll put away twenty dollars for every hour you work. At the end of the summer, I’ll send that money to the college of your choice. But if you start and then quit, you get nothing.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “You’re really going to help me, even though I lied to you?”

“You have to do the work. If you’ll see it through, I’ll know you’ve learned your lesson.”

Charity felt as surprised as Emily looked. She’d figured Josh would lecture the girl, then let her go. Instead he’d offered her a way to get everything she wanted, while still having to be responsible and show initiative.

Emily stood, rushed to Josh and hugged him. Then she stepped back. “I’ll be there,” she promised. “I’ll do whatever you say. I swear. I’m so sorry.” She turned to Charity. “I am sorry. I was desperate and that’s not an excuse. Please don’t be mad at him.”

“I’m not,” Charity told her.

“Thank you,” Emily said again. She hurried to the door and let herself out.

Josh walked over to a small cabinet by the wall, pulled out a bottle of Scotch.

“Want some?” he asked.

“I’ll wait and have wine with dinner.”

He poured himself a glass, then set down the bottle and took a long drink. “Welcome to my world.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

“Every now and then, in different forms. People get desperate, I’m an easy target.” He looked at her over the glass. “You know I didn’t sleep with her, right?”

“Of course. I knew it before she confessed everything.”

He put down the glass. “How?”

“You told me there hadn’t been anyone for a while and I believed you. Plus, she’s not really your type.”

He crossed to her and put his hands on her waist. “What’s my type?”

“I’m not sure exactly, but I’m confident you’re not into girls still in high school.”

“You know me well.”

He kissed her.

As his mouth claimed hers, she realized that tonight she knew him a little better than she had before. He could have simply thrown Emily out after her confession. There was no reason for him to help a girl he didn’t know who’d tried to blackmail him. Josh was a complicated man. He was also someone she liked. A lot.

The thought terrified her. Not only did she have to worry about the stupidity of falling for a man like him, she had her own hideous track record looming. Still, it was too late to run for cover now.

He drew back and smiled at her. “How hungry are you?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. “Dinner can wait.”

“That’s my girl.”

* * *

JOSH WARMED UP WITH the high school team. They rode slowly for a couple of miles, mostly talking and laughing without paying attention to anything beyond getting ready for the real workout.

Josh didn’t listen to the conversation. He couldn’t. Every bit of his attention, every ounce of self-control, was focused on not freaking out like a kid at a monster movie.

The students rode in a pack, which wasn’t unusual. What made the event incredibly different for Josh was the fact that he was part of the pack. Not in it, exactly, more on the outside, but still riding with the others. At least he was doing it.

Maybe the slow pace helped. There was no sense of being out of control. He knew nothing bad was going to happen. At this speed, the worst result of a fall would be a skinned knee or elbow.

One of the students maneuvered his bike closer to Josh’s. The boy, tall but skinny with that awkward, lanky look of an adolescent who hasn’t figured out what to do with his new body, smiled tentatively.

Josh smiled back. “Brandon, right?”

The kid nodded. “I can’t believe you’re riding with us. I’m on a loop with some other guys who ride around the country. They think I’m lying.”

“Then you should bring your camera next time and we’ll take pictures to prove it.”

“You’d do that?”

“Sure. For a hundred bucks a pop.”

Brandon’s mouth dropped open.

Josh laughed. “I’m kidding. Yes, I’ll take pictures with you and the other guys. You can load them on your Facebook page.”

“Sweet.” Brandon glanced at him, then away.

Josh wondered if he had more he wanted to say.

The pace picked up a little. Josh easily kept up with everyone.

“You, um, work out, right?” Brandon asked.

“Sure.”

“Coach has me doing some weight lifting, but I’m not…” He looked around at the other guys, as if judging how many of them could hear. “I need to put on some muscle.”

“How old are you?” Josh asked.

“I’ll be seventeen in three months.” Brandon sounded excited by the fact.

Josh tried to remember the last time he’d been thrilled to be getting older. It had been a while.

“In the next couple of years, you’ll start to put on some serious muscle,” he told the teen. “Don’t push too hard on the weight training until you’re done growing. A lot of guys do that, but what they don’t realize is all that muscle keeps the bones from growing as much as they should. They can lose a couple of inches of height that way.”

“I’m already six feet,” Brandon told him. “But my dad says the men in our family stop growing early.”

“When you’ve stabilized your height, you’ll start picking up muscle. Don’t forget there are more ways to get strong than just lifting weights. Off-season riding is all about conditioning. This winter you should ride inside a few times a week. Alternate between high rpm workouts and low rpm workouts. High-cadence workouts help you learn to contract and relax your muscles quickly. You’ll move in the pack better and be able to dig deep for a sprint. Low-cadence workouts on a high gear build muscle.”

Josh grabbed his water bottle and took a drink. “You also need to work on your whole body. Use the winter months for different kinds of sports. Skiing is great. Take a yoga class once a week. You’ll stretch your muscles, improve your balance and it’s a great way to meet girls.”

Brandon laughed. “Yoga?”

“I’m serious. It will help with your riding and girls love a cyclist’s ass.”

Brandon’s cheeks turned red. “Good to know,” he mumbled.

Josh held in a chuckle.

One of the other guys dropped back to join Brandon and asked Josh his opinion on a bike he was thinking of buying. They discussed equipment until Coach Green drove up and blew his whistle.

Conversation immediately stopped as the guys rode faster. The pack spread out a little as they turned onto a mountain road and headed straight up. Josh stayed on the left rear, watching the other riders. But this time, instead of feeling the panic, he noted their technique. One guy jerked his bike back and forth, wasting energy and adding distance. Brandon was an intense rider, but he was late with his gears, taxing himself more than necessary. Most of the other riders did the same.

Without thinking he yelled, “Everybody stop. Stop where you are.”

The guys looked at each other before slowing to a stop. They straddled their bikes and looked at him. He pointed at the teens one by one and gave each of them a critique. When necessary, he demonstrated the wrong way, then the right way.

“Now we’re going to ride up the hill together,” he said. He explained the gear sequence and why he made the choices he did. Then they started riding together.

Josh found himself in the center of the pack. He called out instructions and the other riders crowded around him. One kid nearly ran into him.

His heart seemed to stop in his chest. The tightness began in his gut, spreading out in every direction. Breathing was impossible as the panic claimed him.

Not now, he thought grimly, swearing silently. Not like this.

“Squirrel,” one of the guys yelled as a squirrel darted across the road in front of them.

“Watch each other,” Josh yelled instinctively. “You don’t want to hit the squirrel, but you don’t want to go down, either. Be aware of where you are.”

They were nearing the top of the road. He knew in another mile it would turn and provide a gradual descent back to town.

“When we start down, I want you to keep your speed under thirty miles an hour.”

“What?”

“No way.”

“Going fast is the best part.”

Josh ignored them. “You’re going to practice breaking out of the pack. Call out numbers.”

Brandon yelled one, a second guy yelled two, until they’d counted through the team.

“That’s the order,” Josh said. “Start in the middle of the pack and work your way to the front. You get a minute of glory, then move over and drop to the back. Is that clear?”

Everyone nodded.

They reached the crest and the road started down. Brandon moved to the center of the pack.

Josh was aware of everyone’s placement. The kids didn’t ride close enough to really get in the way, but this would still be good practice. When Brandon—

He kept pedaling even as his mind did a double take. Wait a minute. He’d been in the middle of a panic attack. He’d been seconds away from losing it completely. What the hell had happened?

He replayed the events, realizing the squirrel had distracted him so completely, he’d forgotten about his symptoms. Apparently without his tension feeding them, they faded of their own accord.

It was the first glimmer of hope he’d had in two years. It meant there was a chance he could conquer this. That he could go back and be everything he’d been before. He didn’t have to be afraid.

He sat up on his bike and started to laugh. The sound echoed off the sides of the mountains around them. One of the kids looked at his friend.

“Old people are weird,” he muttered.

Josh grinned. “We sure are.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHARITY CLICKED TO the next screen on her computer. “Now we move into the lifestyle part of the show,” she said. “I’ve uploaded an assortment of real estate listings. Everything from starter homes and condos to doctor-priced beauties on the lake or the golf course.”

She clicked again. “Here’s a few pictures of the wineries, looking pretty. The ski lodge, the award-winning restaurant. For local flavor we have the farmer’s market, the Fourth of July parade and the obligatory sunset picture.”

The latter showed a family walking by the lake. Dad held a little girl, Mom held the hand of a little boy. The figures were silhouetted against a beautiful orange and red sunset.

“Very nice,” Marsha said, from her seat next to Charity. They were in the mayor’s office, reviewing Charity’s presentation. “What about the financial package?”

Charity went over the information for the hospital itself—tax breaks, potential grants, how much the state, county and city would kick in.

Marsha smiled. “You’ve done your homework,” she said approvingly.

“I’m determined. Fool’s Gold is absolutely the best place for the new hospital campus to be. I’m going to make them see that.” She grinned. “In a very polite, professional way, of course.”

“I have no doubt.”

“The good news is there’s only one other site that’s competitive. So we have a really good chance. At least this time there’s no rich family who wants their name over the door. I’m still annoyed I didn’t know that.”

“You’d been here all of five minutes. How could you?”

“You’re right,” Charity said, but she couldn’t help feeling she should have been able to figure it out. It was her job, after all. “This time is different. There aren’t going to be any surprises.”

“You sound resolute.”

“An immoveable force.”

“Then I have every confidence you’ll succeed.” Marsha picked up her coffee and sipped. “I noticed Josh training with the high school team.”

Her voice was casual, but Charity wasn’t fooled. While she and her grandmother were getting to know each other, they hadn’t spent a whole lot of time talking about Charity’s personal life. As everyone in town knew Charity was seeing Josh, it wasn’t hard to assume Marsha knew, as well. But she’d never brought it up before.

“He has a race coming up,” Charity said, hoping today’s session went better than the last one.

“He’s also determined. Even when he was younger, he was incredibly focused. Talent is never enough. Drive is just as important. He’s a good man.”

Charity leaned back against the sofa. “Is there a ‘but’ in that sentence?”

“No. I think Josh is very special. He needs someone in his life, and I’m going to risk our new relationship by saying you do, as well.”

“I want that,” she admitted. “But I’m not sure about Josh.”

“Because the rumors about his talents are overrated?” Marsha’s lips twitched as she asked the question.

“Are you trying to find out about my love life?”

“Only in the broadest sense. I think too many details would make us both uncomfortable.”

Charity laughed. “You’re right. No, the rumors aren’t exaggerated. Josh is great and I really like being with him. He’s funny and caring and smart. Not to mention gorgeous.”

“Now I’m sensing a ‘but’ in the conversation.”

“But he’s dangerous. The whole fame thing is uncomfortable. I don’t want to be a bright star in the world. I want my life to be anchored here. I want normal.”

“Josh is very normal and this is his home.”

“For now. But what happens when he competes again? What happens if he makes his comeback? He becomes successful racer-guy again. I’m not saying I don’t want that. If it makes him happy, if it heals him, then he should go for it. But I’m not interested in someone who needs the approval of the world to feel good about himself.”

“Is that what you think he wants?”

“I’m not sure,” Charity admitted. “But I’m worried about it. I want to be in a relationship where I’m the most important person in someone’s life. I want to feel the same way about him. I can’t compete with an adoring crowd.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t have to.”

“Maybe.” Charity was less sure. “For now, it’s not an issue. We’re getting to know each other.”

Marsha smiled. “Be careful. That’s how every great love begins.”

* * *

AFTER JOSH FINISHED working out with the team, he went back to the hotel and showered. When he was dressed, he glanced at the clock. Charity wouldn’t leave work for another couple of hours. He could go into his office, but he wasn’t in the mood. Restlessness drove him out of the hotel. He walked along the sidewalk, no destination in mind. Then he turned a corner and saw a sign for a familiar business.

Hendrix Construction had been around for about forty years. Ethan’s grandfather had started the company, and his father had taken it over a decade later. When they’d been kids, Ethan had sworn he wasn’t going to follow anyone into the family business. A few weeks after Ethan had graduated from college, his father had died unexpectedly. As the oldest son, it fell to him to take over the company and keep it going.

Maybe Ethan had planned for one of his brothers to join him or buy him out, but that hadn’t happened. Nearly ten years later, Ethan ran both the construction and the windmill businesses.

Josh stared at the building. He could see several people inside and wondered if Ethan was one of them. For all he knew his former friend could be at a job site or out at the windmill building plant. Still, he could walk over and find out.

He took a step, then stopped. Not counting the phone messages he’d left, it had been a long time since he’d talked to Ethan. Over ten years. He wasn’t sure what to say. The truth was he hadn’t done anything wrong. Ethan’s injury wasn’t his responsibility or his fault. So why did he feel so damned bad about it?

Knowing there was only one way to get the answer, he crossed the street and walked into the office.

Nevada Hendrix, one of Ethan’s sisters, sat on the reception desk, her feet dangling. Her jeans and T-shirt were smudged with plaster dust, her boots worn and practical, rather than a fashion statement. She gestured intensely as she spoke.

“You couldn’t be more wrong,” she was saying. “About all of it. If you would just shut up and—” She raised her head and saw Josh. “Dear God!”

She jumped off the desk and stared at him. “You’re here.”

“In the flesh. Is he here?”

He didn’t have to tell Nevada who he meant.

“Ah, sure. In his office.” She gestured toward the rear of the building.

“I can find it,” he told her, then pointed to the receiver she held. “You’re still on a call.”

“What? Oh.” She returned her attention to the call.

He walked between the desks, which were mostly empty. The engineers and sales staff would be out calling on customers or at job sites.

At the rear of the building was a large lunch room, an alcove with office supplies and several big printers, and a single door with Ethan’s name on it. Josh knocked once, then pushed it open.

Ethan sat behind his desk, working on his computer. His expression was intense as he used his mouse.

“Not my problem,” he said, his attention still on the screen. “I don’t care about your engineering degree. You’re wrong about the bridge and I’m going to prove it to you.”

“Huh. And here I thought I had a business degree.”

Ethan looked up. He raised his eyebrows. “I thought you were Nevada.”

“Apparently.”

Ethan motioned to the seat across from his desk, saved his work, then faced Josh. “This is a surprise.”

“For me, too,” Josh admitted before sitting. “I came to talk to you.”

Ethan stared at him, his expression unreadable. “So talk.”

Now that he was here, Josh didn’t know what to say. He’d had ten years to plan for this conversation and the hell of it was, he couldn’t remember half of what had happened between them.

“I’ve left you phone messages,” he said. “First every few months and then every couple of years, I tried to get in touch with you.”

Ethan’s left eyebrow raised. “The effort was very meaningful.”

“You didn’t call me back.”

“I was waiting for you to man up and come see me in person.”

“Here I am.”

“I can see that.” Ethan shook his head. “You were gone, Josh. You’d been a part of my life, a part of my family’s life and then you just disappeared. Do you know how that made my mom feel?”

Josh felt his gut roll. “No, but I know it was bad.”

“Worse than bad. Mom loved you like you were one of her own. She kept a goddamn scrapbook of your racing career.”

Josh wished there was a nearby rock. Crawling under it would feel better than this.

“I fucked up,” he admitted.

“You sure did.”

They stared at each other.

“The accident wasn’t my fault,” Josh said at last. “You ran into me. I’m lucky I didn’t go down, too.”

Ethan leaned back in his chair, but didn’t speak.

“You got hurt,” Josh continued. “It happens. You moved on, you’ve got a great life. Look at this place. It’s what, double the size it was when your dad ran it? And the windmill company. You’re a success.”

“I know.”

Ethan wasn’t giving anything away, which really pissed Josh off. He stood.

“I’m done feeling guilty. It’s not my fault that you had to give up racing. I’m done paying for it. I was wrong to stay away and I’ve apologized for that. So you need to get off my ass.”

Ethan waited a couple of seconds. “You about done?”

“Yeah.” Josh sat back down.

Ethan leaned toward him. “I was never on your ass.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I never blamed you for what happened.” A smile flashed. “I had that race locked.” The smile faded and his expression hardened. “After the accident, you didn’t come to see me in the hospital. You were like a brother to me and you didn’t want to get close, in case getting injured was something you could catch.”

Josh shifted on his seat, feeling ashamed and stupid. “It wasn’t that,” he began, then shook his head. “No. It was that. You were great, Ethan, and I knew if it could happen to you, it could happen to anyone. So I stayed away. I’m sorry.”

“We were like brothers.”

Josh nodded.

“You kept staying away.”

“I didn’t know what to say,” Josh admitted.

“I figured.”

“What? Then why didn’t you come talk to me?”

“I knew you’d be back one day.” Ethan looked smug. “I just didn’t think it would take ten years. Of course I’ve always been the one with the brains. And the good looks.”

“In your dreams.”

There was more to say. More to explain and apologize for, but that would come later. Right now, the first step had been taken. All he could think was how much time he’d wasted—they’d both wasted. Gladys was right—men were idiots.

Josh stood. “Want to go to Jo’s and get a drink?”

“Sure.”

They headed out. Nevada was still on the phone. She stopped talking and stared at them as they left.

“You’re going to be getting some calls later,” Josh said, as they headed for Jo’s.

“From the girls and Mom. Should make for an interesting day.”

They walked into the bar and grabbed a table against the wall. A few of the women already there looked twice, then went back to watching some dating reality show. Jo walked over.

“The usual?” she asked.

Josh nodded. Ethan did the same.

She glanced between them. “You two kiss and make up?”

“There wasn’t any kissing,” Ethan said. “Unless you’re offering.”

She rolled her eyes. “You so couldn’t handle me.” She walked back to the bar.

Josh glanced at his friend. “Jo?”

He shook his head. “No. We flirt, but it doesn’t mean anything. She’s not my type.”

“Since when do you have a type?” Josh asked, then wished he hadn’t. Ethan had been married. He’d loved and lost in the worst way possible. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. So I hear you’re competing again.”

“It’s one race.”

“That’s all it takes to get back in the game.”

Josh wasn’t sure he wanted to be in the game. Right now he was mostly interested in proving something to himself.

“It’s been a long time,” he said. “I’ve been riding, but not seriously.”

“That has to change.”

“I know.”

“It’s all about fundamentals,” Ethan said. “Get back to the basics. Training and focus. There’s an element of luck when you win and being prepared is the best luck you can bring to the game.”

Ethan grabbed a couple of napkins and together they sketched out a training schedule. Grueling, Josh thought as he stared at the breakdown, but worth it. He didn’t tell Ethan that winning was the least of it. Right now competing would be enough of a win.

Josh finished the last of his beer. After tonight there wouldn’t be any more drinking. His diet would be as strict as his training schedule. He didn’t have much time to get in the best shape of his life.

He turned his attention back to his friend. “If you weren’t pissed at me, why have you been in a bad mood for the past few years?”

Ethan shrugged. “Why else? A woman.”

* * *

“NO ONE WANTS ME THERE,” Charity said, as she sat in the passenger seat of Josh’s car.

“I want you there,” he said.

They were in the parking lot of a local television studio where a reporter from one of the sports networks was going to interview Josh.

While she appreciated the invitation and all, she wasn’t sure how to tell him everything about this situation made her uncomfortable. She knew she and Josh were involved, but this felt too much like being a celebrity girlfriend. Like she was hanging on to get noticed by the media. It reminded her that once Josh started racing again, his world would be totally different from hers.

She angled toward him, intent on explaining. But before she could speak, he said, “I had a fling with her.

Years ago. Right after the divorce.”

It took Charity a second to put the pieces together.

“The reporter?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You had sex with her?”

He nodded, looking chagrined. “Kind of.”

She didn’t know if she should be hurt or annoyed. “Why did you agree to the interview?”

“It was set up by the race committee. They sent me an e-mail and asked me, so I said yes. We need the publicity. I hoped it wouldn’t be Melrose doing the interview, but it is.” He stared at Charity. “I’m not interested in her. What happened before was a mistake.

A really stupid one.”

She could accept that, but she was still confused. “You had to know this could get you in big trouble with me. So why did you risk that and bring me?”

He cleared his throat and shifted his gaze to the window. “She, ah, called to talk to me a couple of days ago. She sounded really happy that we were going to be spending some time together. Too happy.”

If Charity didn’t know better, she would swear there was a hint of fear in Josh’s eyes.

“And?” she prompted.

“I knew it would be awkward. Having you around makes things more clear.”

The annoyance and hurt faded. “You’re scared of her.”

He stiffened. “I’m not scared.”

“You’re terrified.”

“It’s not like that.”

She grinned. “You expect me to protect you.”

“I thought it would be nice if people knew we were together.”

Did he really expect her to believe that? “Josh, you’ve been this famous guy for years. You must have a lot of experience at telling women no.”

“I do, but it’s different now. I don’t go to parties and hang out with Hollywood types.”

“You were great with Emily.”

“That was different.” He stared out the front window. “If you’d rather wait in the car, I understand.”

She could almost hear the pout in his voice. “I’ll come with you,” she said as she opened her door. “And do my best to protect you from the big, bad reporter.”

They walked into the studio and were greeted by a production assistant. She introduced herself as Brittany, looked as if she couldn’t be more than twelve, but showed absolutely no interest in Josh. Refreshing, Charity thought. Unusual, but refreshing.

They walked past the sets used for the local news and the various cable access shows. Brittany pointed to a small area with a green-screen background and two upholstered chairs facing each other.

“You’ll do the interview there. Melrose asked for the green screen so she can load in graphics later.” She glanced at Josh. “You’ve done this sort of thing before, right?”

He nodded.

“Great. The makeup girl wants to pat you down with some powder, but we’re doing a sports interview. No one expects you to be pretty.”

“Oh, but you already are,” Charity whispered.

Josh shot her a glare. She did her best not to laugh.

“She’s in there,” the assistant said, pointing to a door and moving down the hall. “Yell if you need me.”

Josh paused in front of the closed door, but before he could knock, it burst open.

“Finally,” a throaty but feminine voice purred. “If you knew how I’d been counting the hours.”

Josh dropped his hand to Charity’s waist and pushed her in the room first. Charity felt like the sacrificial goat in some pagan ceremony. She stepped into a plain room with a large, well-lit mirror, a few chairs, a sofa and a long counter. But what really caught her attention was the woman standing by the mirror.

She was tall, maybe five-ten or eleven, with flaming red hair that tumbled in loose curls down to the middle of her back. Her body was lean, yet curved in all the right places and breasts the size of melons spilled out of a low-cut blouse.

Melrose wasn’t just beautiful, Charity thought, feeling as if there wasn’t enough air in the room. She was perfect. The boobs didn’t look real, but they suited her. Melrose was a walking, breathing male fantasy. Charity went from sacrificial goat to invisible.

“Josh,” Melrose breathed, crossing the room in two long strides, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her mouth to his.

Charity blinked in astonishment, then touched her own arm to make sure she really was there.

“Melrose,” Josh said, grabbing her wrists and holding her in place while he stepped back. “This is Charity Jones. My girlfriend.”

Girlfriend. Charity hadn’t been expecting that, and tried to figure out if he’d said it because he meant it or if it was a form of self-protection.

“Hello,” Melrose said, never taking her eyes off Josh. “You’re racing again. That’s good. The sport needs someone like you. God knows, I do. I’m staying in town tonight. I have a luscious room at a little B&B by the lake. Big tub, big bed, big fireplace. The interview will air tonight. We can watch it together. Naked. Say yes?”

Charity went from feeling less-than to pissed in a nanosecond. She stepped between Josh and the piranha, held out her right hand and forced a smile.

“Hi,” she said loudly. “I’m Charity.”

“We’ve met,” Melrose said coolly, still staring hungrily at Josh.

“Apparently not,” Charity told her firmly. “Hey.” She poked Melrose in the chest, right above her left breast. “Look at me.”

Melrose slowly lowered her cool, green gaze. “You didn’t just touch me.”

“I did and I’ll do it again, if I have to. Yes, Josh is very crushworthy. And the sex, as I’m sure you’ll remember, is fantastic. But there’s a line between wanting and being a complete cliché. No offense, Melrose, but you’re not in a prime-time soap. This is real life. And Josh is with me.”

* * *

JOSH HAD KNOWN THERE was a risk involved when he’d asked Charity to join him today. But he’d been willing to deal with her being pissed—mostly because Melrose wasn’t the kind of woman who accepted rejection easily. He’d thought having Charity along would make things easier. And he’d have a witness to anything that happened…or didn’t happen. He hadn’t expected her to unleash her inner tiger.

She stood glaring at Melrose, fearless, beautiful and determined. Not many women were willing to take on a powerhouse reporter. Damn, Charity was good.

Melrose looked from Charity to him, then back. “I haven’t heard Josh tell me no.”

“Josh, would you please respond to Melrose’s very graphic invitation?” Charity said.

She didn’t bother to turn around. He liked that she didn’t worry that she had to look at him or give hints as to what he should say.

“No, thanks,” he said. “I’m with Charity.”

“Fine,” Melrose snapped. “Whatever.” She glanced at her watch. “Let’s get this over with. If we hurry, I can still catch a flight out of Sacramento and get the hell out of this pissant town.”

Ten minutes later he was powdered and miked, sitting across from a still annoyed Melrose. But the second the red light went on above the camera, her face relaxed and she smiled.

“I’m here with Josh Golden, who dazzled us for years, winning every major race, including back-to-back victories at the Tour de France.” She turned her gaze to him. “Rumor has it you’re back in the game.”

“I’ve entered a race to be held here, in Fool’s Gold. We’ll see how I do there.”

“Not ready to formally announce you’re returning to the sport you love?”

“No.” He wasn’t ready to do much of anything but get through another practice session without freaking out.

“You were the best,” Melrose reminded him. “Don’t you want a piece of the glory?”

“There’s more to competing than winning.”

“Yes, but none of that really matters, does it?” She smiled knowingly. “I know how you like to come out on top.”

Josh thought about Charity, watching just beyond the bright lights and held in a groan. Melrose was nothing if not persistent. At one time he might have found that intriguing, but not anymore. Now he wanted something different. Someone different. And as soon as the interview was over, he planned to tell her.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“DID I THANK YOU FOR coming with me today?” Josh asked.

Charity rested her head on his shoulder. “About fifteen times.”

“Want to make it sixteen?”

They were in his bed, propped up on pillows, watching the sports show. Josh’s interview was next.

“If it makes you happy,” she said. “I’m okay with what happened and I understand why you felt you needed protection.”

“I didn’t need protection.”

She smiled, then kissed his shoulder. “You sure did. Melrose was scary. What were you thinking?”

A stupid question, she told herself. No doubt he’d been thinking that Melrose was beautiful and sexually aggressive and exactly what he needed after a difficult divorce. If she just thought about the ridiculous exchange they’d all had at the studio, she was fine, but if she allowed herself to actually dwell on the idea of Melrose and Josh in bed together, she started to freak.

She didn’t need ongoing proof that they were from different worlds and possibly headed in different directions.

She didn’t want that, she thought. But if Josh did, then that’s what he should do.

The show host announced the interview, doing a quick introduction, then the screen switched to the recording of Josh with Melrose.

“I’m here with Josh Golden, who dazzled us for years, winning every major race, including back-to-back victories at the Tour de France.”

Charity had seen the whole thing happening live, but it was worse on the flat-screen TV. “Oh my God! She wants to have sex with you. I knew it before, but you can see it in her eyes. The way she looks at you.”

Josh reached for the remote. “I can’t watch this.” He clicked off the TV. “I’ll get feedback tomorrow. Steve, my former coach, will let me know how it went.”

“He’ll probably want to know if you’re current on your shots.”

Josh rolled toward her and grinned. “Someone’s being defensive.”

“Apparently someone needs to stand between you and every single woman on the planet. I’m not sure if I should find this funny or have a total freakout.”

“Do I get a vote?”

She stared into his hazel-green eyes, then lightly touched his cheek. “I’m laughing on the inside. Did stuff like this really happen all the time?”

He hesitated. “Some. Before I was married. I was young and willing and so were they.”

She wondered if he could give an approximate count on the “they.” A hundred? A thousand? Did she want to know?

“Once I got into a relationship, the rules changed. I’m always faithful.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“Never cheated once. I wasn’t tempted. I always figured if I was interested in someone enough to want to sleep with her, then there were problems with my current relationship. So I either fixed those or ended things. I was faithful during my marriage, and even during the divorce. I waited until the paperwork was signed.” He grimaced. “Angelique didn’t share my reticence.”

“She screwed up big time letting you go.”

He smiled. “Thanks for saying that, but she wouldn’t believe you. It worked out for the best. We never would have lasted. She wanted what I was. The guy on the cereal box with a bestselling poster. She wanted our names in the tabloids, photographers following us. I wanted something different.”

“You were followed by photographers?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted, putting his hand on her waist. She felt the warmth of his fingers through the oversized T-shirt she wore. “There are ways around that sort of thing. Live a normal life and for the most part they ignore you.”

“So what was the best part of your former life?”

He thought for a second. “Being on a team. Working hard, then kicking ass in a race. Waiting for the ranking, wanting to be number one and knowing if I wasn’t I would have to work harder. Sometimes I miss the screaming fans, but not as much as everything else. Mostly I miss being that guy.”

“You’re still that guy.” She thought about what he’d said. “What about all the travel? Not having a home?”

“Fool’s Gold is home.”

“You weren’t here much.”

“I didn’t have to be here to know I belonged.”

Probably because he’d grown up here. He could take the relationship, so to speak, for granted. But it wasn’t like that for her. She wanted permanent roots, ones she could see. She wanted to wake up in the same bed every day knowing that she would continue to wake up there year after year. The only changes she wanted were paint colors and carpeting.

“Will you go back?” she asked. “After the race, if it goes well?”

“I don’t know.” He smiled at her. “Whatever happens, this will be my home, Charity. I’m not running from you.”

“I didn’t think you were. You’re the type to run to something, not from it. Do you think about what it would be like now?”

“Some. I’d be different. Not take any of it for granted. There’s something to be said for wisdom, but I’m not sure it can completely make up for being older. A comeback would require a huge commitment.”

He continued talking about the “what ifs” of racing. If he was able to compete and if he did well. He didn’t mention winning because that was to challenge the gods.

Charity listened and did her best to be supportive, but in her heart, she felt the first whisper of a chill. The coldness surprised her. Didn’t she care enough about Josh to want him to be happy?

She already knew the answer to that, and wondered if it was something else. Something far more frightening than being selfish. As she turned over the possibilities, one of them became more clear than the others. A truth she couldn’t avoid.

She was in love with Josh.

Life was nothing if not ironic. She was in love with a man who made his living moving at top speed, when she only wanted to stay in one place. She’d done her best to avoid her mother’s trap, and here she was, completely caught.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine. Just thinking about your future.”

“Not a very interesting topic.”

“It could be. Imagine if you do well during the race. You’ll have it all.”

He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, but she knew otherwise. Josh would never be happy just being a regular guy. He was someone who needed the roar of the crowd, and she was just one person.

* * *

BERNIE JACKSON HELD A meeting on Monday, to bring everyone up to speed on the investigation. Charity spent the first few minutes doing her best not to let her newly discovered dislike of attractive redheads get in the way of paying attention. She reminded herself it wasn’t Bernie’s fault she had a more than passing resemblance to a barracuda-like reporter.

“We’ve tracked the money from the state to here,” Bernie explained. “We have copies of the cleared checks. They show the city stamp and apparently passed through the city account. However, there are no records of a deposit and even more troubling, no records of a withdrawal.”

“Do you think someone went back and removed the items from the computer?” Marsha asked. “The deposit and the withdrawal?”

“Possibly,” Bernie said. “But what about the bank? It doesn’t show the money going in or out, which means it went into another account.”

“Do we know if it even arrived here in town?” Charity asked. “The check could have been intercepted in Sacramento or before it physically arrived here. It was a paper check, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Bernie said. “If it never arrived here, then whoever is perpetrating the fraud is going to be harder to find. But based on what I know so far, that seems a fairly likely explanation. I’ve contacted other communities to find out if anyone else is having the same problem.”

“I don’t like it,” Chief Barns said. “I like criminals who do their dirty work out where someone can see.”

“That would make things simpler,” Bernie agreed.

She discussed the rest of her investigation, took a few more questions, then the meeting ended. Charity found herself walking with Robert back to their floor.

“How are you holding up?” she asked.

“Okay. People are still looking at me funny. I’m living with it. Bernie’s told me privately that she should have me completely cleared in a couple of weeks.” He grimaced. “I’ve given her complete access to my financial records. Checking and saving accounts, my retirement account. All of it.”

“I’m sorry you’re having to deal with all this,” she said.

“It’ll pass. Things will get back to normal.” He paused by her office. “I just want her to catch the bastard who’s doing this.”

“So does the chief.”

“I think she’s happiest when she’s arresting someone.”

“Everyone needs a moment of joy in his or her life.”

Robert shuffled his feet. “Are you… How are things going with Josh?”

Not a question she wanted to answer, she thought, wishing this were easier. “Good.”

“You really like him, don’t you?”

As she was sure being in love fell very close to “really liking” she had no problem nodding.

“Too bad.” He turned and walked away.

Another downside of small-town life, she thought. There was no way to escape seeing Robert. Working with him didn’t make matters easier. She could only hope he would find someone who could appreciate his niceness, along with his little quirks.

* * *

WEDNESDAY AFTER WORK, Charity headed out on an errand she’d been rescheduling for some time. She liked her new and improved wardrobe, which was great, but now she had to deal with her hair.

She’d been wearing it exactly the same way since she graduated from high school. Blown dry, so no hint of her natural waves showed, parted in the middle, hanging just below her shoulders. Some days she pulled it back in a French braid. Other days she wore it up. Occasionally it was loose. But there wasn’t anything stylish about it and the color was a boring medium brown. It was time for a change.

She’d asked around for recommendations and had been given two names. Sisters who were in competition with each other. Pia had warned her she would have to alternate between the two unless she wanted people to think she was taking sides. When Charity had asked what the fight was about, Pia couldn’t say for sure, which was part of the problem. No one really knew, which made staying out of trouble that much harder.

But they were the best hairstylists in town, so Charity had randomly chosen Julia’s salon—Chez Julia—not to be confused with her sister’s establishment, the House of Bella.

“You’re the one who wanted to live in a small town,” Charity reminded herself as she walked toward the bright blue building. There were posters of hair models in the window, a lush garden out front and a porch with a rocking chair.

She stepped into the surprisingly large salon. There were about ten stations lined up along two walls. The windows provided a lot of natural light. The main colors were a deep brown, from the wood at the stations, and turquoise. The walls were a rich blue-green up to the chair rail, then cream to the ceiling. The tile floor was done in a dozen shades of turquoise. Soft music played in the background, the place was spotless and had an air of relaxed elegance. Under any other circumstances, Charity would have been pleased with her find.

Instead she found herself feeling trapped as everyone in the salon turned to look at her, then didn’t look away. It was as if they knew who she was—which they probably did.

An attractive woman in her forties hurried toward her. “Charity,” she said. “You’re my four-thirty. I’m Julia. So nice to meet you.”

“Hi.”

Julia glanced behind and made a shooing motion, then returned her attention to Charity. “Ignore them. I do.”

Charity managed a smile. “Just like being the new girl in school.”

“I know. But it will get better, I promise.” Julia smiled. “Now, I have you down for highlights and a cut. Come have a seat and tell me what you were thinking of doing.”

Charity followed her to a station in the back. She sat in the padded chair and faced herself in the mirror. Julia stood behind her, waiting.

“I want something different,” Charity told her. “I’ve been wearing my hair at the same length, in relatively the same style, for years. The color needs help, too.”

Julia ran her hands through Charity’s hair. “Very thick,” she murmured. “Do you have a wave?”

“Sort of. I control it with blow drying.”

“About how much time are you willing to spend in the morning?”

“Not more than fifteen minutes. I don’t have the patience for it.”

“Good to know.” Julia tilted her head. “We’ll do subtle highlights? Nothing too obvious. Just enough to give you a little depth.”

“That sounds great.”

“And for the cut, I’m thinking a blunt longish bob, with bangs.”

Charity blinked. “Bangs?”

Julia dropped her hands to Charity’s shoulders and squeezed. “Trust me.”

By now conversation had resumed around them. Charity decided to simply go with the flow. Hair grew. If she didn’t like the new style, eventually she could go back to what she’d been doing before.

Julia left her with a couple of magazines and went off to mix color. A few minutes later, Charity was covered in a plastic cape while Julia expertly applied color to a few strands of hair, then carefully wrapped them in foil.

“How are you settling in to living here?” Julia asked. “It’s been a few months.”

“I really like it. I’ve never lived in a small town before. The adjustment has been fun.”

“What’s Josh like in bed?” a woman in pink curlers yelled from across the room.

Conversation stopped. For a second there was only the sound of the soft music. Once again everyone was staring at Charity.

Julia sighed. “You don’t have to answer that,” she said. “Not that we’re not interested,” she added with a wink.

She turned to the salon. “She’s new, remember. Everyone back off.”

“But I want to know,” another woman insisted. “I’m sixty-two. The odds of me finding out for myself are slim.”

Charity laughed. “He’s everything you could imagine and more.”

The woman in curlers sighed. “I knew it,” she said dreamily.

“I saw him riding his bike the other day,” another client said. “What that man does for those bicycle shorts. It was the highlight of my day.” She glanced at Charity. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“You’ve been dating for a while now,” Julia said. “How’s that working out?”

The questions weren’t subtle, Charity thought, more amused than offended.

“He’s a great guy. I like spending time with him.”

“Josh is one of the good ones. That first wife of his was a total bitch.”

“I remember her,” another client said with a sniff. “She came to town once. Walked around like she was afraid of getting dog poop on her shoes. She was beautiful, but what a bitch.”

There was a murmur of agreement.

Charity would have loved to ask questions about Angelique but wasn’t sure how. After all, she was fairly confident that anything she said would be reported to the entire town, not to mention get back to Josh.

“You came from Henderson, didn’t you?” Julia asked. “I thought I heard that.”

“Yes.”

“Leave anyone special behind?”

Charity met Julia’s interested gaze in the mirror. “No.”

“I’m surprised. A pretty girl like you. There had to be someone.”

Not a topic Charity wanted to discuss. Not with this crowd. “Not really.”

“My first husband was a total loser,” Julia said. “He cheated, which I could live with, but then lied about it, which I couldn’t. I chased him out of the house with a frying pan. He never came back. Good riddance.”

“All men cheat,” one of the customers said.

“Not all,” another protested. “Some don’t.”

“Name one.”

“My Arnie. He’s a good man.”

Julia leaned close to Charity. “And butt ugly. A sweetheart, but the lights would have to be off all the time.”

Charity did her best not to respond to any part of the conversation.

“Josh ever cheated?” someone asked.

“Not that I’ve heard. He was faithful to that wife of his, not that she deserved it. Stupid cow.”

Josh had claimed to be faithful and Charity had believed him. Which might make her a fool, but she was tired of trying to be sure. After her first two disastrous relationships, she hadn’t been taking any chances with her third. She’d run a credit check and had a friend on the police force get her a DMV report. He’d been clean. Engaged to someone else living in Los Angeles, but clean.

Hurt but determined to learn from yet another mistake, Charity had accepted the job in Fool’s Gold as a way to start over. Maybe having such a public history was part of Josh’s appeal, she thought. She didn’t have to worry about any secrets. Everyone in town knew everything important about him.

She went under the hair dryer for about twenty minutes, then enjoyed a very lovely massage with her wash. When she got back into Julia’s chair, the stylist turned her away from the mirror.

“I don’t want you to see anything until I’m done.”

Charity felt a tiny knot of fear in her stomach. “I guess that means I’m going to have to trust you.”

“You’ll be happy, I promise.”

“That’s a big promise.”

One of the older ladies had finished. With her silver hair all neatly teased and sprayed, she slipped on her jacket, but instead of leaving, she walked over to Charity.

“I remember Josh when he first came here,” she said. “That mother of his was awful. He’d been in a bad fall and walked on crutches. He was about the most pitiful thing I’d ever seen. It took him nearly fifteen minutes to go a single block. How he struggled to get to school every day. That poor boy. His clothes were ragged and he was skinny as an alley cat. It about broke my heart. Then one day she was gone.”

Charity knew the general story of Josh’s past, but she’d never heard it told with such clarity.

“None of us knew what to do,” another woman added. “We didn’t want to send him to a state home, but there wasn’t much choice. Then Denise Hendrix offered to take him in. The rest of us contributed to the family, helping pay for Josh’s medical expenses.”

The first woman nodded. “He needed surgery to repair how his legs had healed wrong, then physical therapy. That’s why he started riding a bike. To strengthen his legs. Ethan rode, too.” She patted Charity’s arm. “So Josh is special to us. Always has been. You’ve got yourself a good man there.”

“Thank you.”

The old woman started to leave, then paused. Her expression turned sly. “He proposed yet?”

Charity felt the color flooding her face. Anywhere but here, she thought grimly. She wanted to be anywhere but here.

“We’re still dating. Getting to know each other.”

“I wouldn’t be as concerned about him proposing. There’s a bigger danger.”

Several of the women laughed. Charity didn’t get it until one of them added, “Feeling any cravings, hon?”

“No. I’m good. But thanks for asking.”

“Leave her alone,” Julia said firmly. “All of you. You’ll scare her off and we’ll never see her again.”

The old woman waved and left. The conversation shifted to more comfortable topics. Julia got out a blow dryer. Once she turned it on, Charity couldn’t hear anything that was being said—probably a good thing.

She promised herself she was never, ever getting her hair done in town, again. Or if she did anything, she would go see Morgan. She doubted he would bother her with a lot of personal questions.

Asking about Josh was one thing, but hinting she might be pregnant was way too intrusive. And annoying, she thought. Just because everyone knew Josh didn’t mean they had the right to butt into his personal life. There were rules in polite society. Expectations and—

“Here you go,” Julia said and turned the chair.

Charity was prepared to simply pay and run. She didn’t want to deal with the teasing anymore. But when she caught sight of herself in the mirror, she couldn’t move. She could only stare.

Her once boring plain brown hair was now rich and shiny. There were hints of gold and a tiny whisper of red threaded through the strands. But even more amazing was the cut.

Julia had shortened her hair to just below her jaw, then blown it under in a perfect bob. Feathered bangs made her eyes seem huge. When she moved her head, her hair swayed, then fell perfectly into place. It was the best cut she’d ever received in her life.

“It’s perfect,” she breathed. “I love it.”

“Good. Do you have a big round brush?”

Charity nodded her head, mostly to watch her hair move.

Julia demonstrated the way to get the shape right, explained what products worked best and how to use them. Charity listened carefully, then paid her bill and left a large tip. The fact that everyone in the salon would talk about her after she was gone didn’t bother her one bit. Not when her hair looked so good.

She walked back toward the hotel, catching her reflection every now and then and smiling as she saw her hair move. When she walked by Morgan’s bookstore, the old man stuck his head out the open door.

“Lookin’ good, pretty lady.”

She laughed. “Thank you.”

“Hope Josh knows he’s a lucky man.”

“I’ll tell him in case he doesn’t.”

“You do that.”

Now, feeling fabulous, she could think about the conversation in the salon and tell herself no one meant anything bad by their meddling. Josh was important to them, and with her dating him, she was part of what was going on. Although things had gotten out of hand with the whole pregnancy topic. That wasn’t a subject to kid about. Talk about a disaster. An unplanned pregnancy would…

Charity stopped in front of the hotel and stared at the beautiful old building. But instead of seeing the impressive architecture or the gleaming windows, she stared at the mental calendar in her head and tried to do the math. Exactly how many days had it been since her last period?

She hurried inside, calling distracted greetings when the staff welcomed her. When she reached the third floor, she ran to her room, raced inside and closed the door behind her. Her date book was on the desk by the wall. She flipped back until she found the day with a little daisy by the date—her private notation of her period’s arrival—then counted forward.

As the numbers mounted, so did her panic. She counted a second time and got the same number. She was two weeks late. Two weeks.

Her first thought was to rush to the nearest drugstore, buy a test and find out. Then she thought of all the people who would see her and how the information would be spread from one end of town to the other in a matter of minutes. Which meant what? That she had to drive to the next town?

She was halfway across the room, heading for her car keys, when she remembered the pregnancy test Josh had bought when Emily had insisted she was pregnant with his baby. He’d handed the kit to Charity who had brought it to her room and put it where?

It took two minutes of frantic drawer pulling to find it, another few seconds to get in the bathroom and pee, then three minutes of pacing until she could know one way or the other.

She stared at the two straight lines, then at the chart in the instructions.

She was pregnant.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHARITY STARED AT THE stick for a long time, then carefully wrapped it in tissue and put it in her pocket. She would have to get rid of it somewhere other than her room. Because the maid would probably tell the entire town what it said.

After circling the room several times, Charity realized she couldn’t stay here. Not with her mind swirling and her stomach flipping and flopping and her hands shaking. Maybe walking somewhere would help. She didn’t have anywhere to go, but right now a destination seemed highly overrated.

Once she reached the street, she moved purposefully, which made her feel a little better. She started to go back to the office, but wasn’t sure what she would do there. After turning down a couple of streets, she found herself in front of Marsha’s house. Maybe this was the best place to start.

She walked up to the porch. The front door opened before she could knock.

“Look at your hair,” Marsha said, smiling at her. “I love it.”

Charity had nearly forgotten about her sassy new style. “Julia did it.”

“It suits you. The highlights are great. You look even more beautiful than you did before.”

“Thanks.” Charity walked in.

Marsha closed the door. “This is a nice surprise. I was just thinking about what I wanted for dinner. Would you like to join me? We can go out. I’m thinking Angelo’s. I do love the bread.” She patted her hips. “Even though I shouldn’t.”

Charity drew in a breath. “I’m pregnant.”

She hadn’t meant to say that, exactly, but now that she had, there was no going back.

Marsha’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “Pregnant?” she whispered.

“Apparently. I peed on a stick and everything.” She swallowed. “It’s Josh, in case you were wondering. He’s the only one I’ve…You know.” While she didn’t have a lot of experience with having a grandmother, she was going to go out on a limb and assume Marsha didn’t want any more details about her intimate relationships.

“I don’t know how this happened,” Charity continued, giving in to her frustration. “Well, I know how it happened. I guess I don’t know how I let it happen. Why now? I’m just settling in here. I’m finding my way and I really like it here. Being pregnant will change everything.”

She sucked in a breath. “And did it have to be Josh? He’s the poster child for self-absorption. I don’t mean that to sound as harsh as it does, but you know what I mean. He’s got his life, too. He’s not interested in anything but getting back on the racing circuit. He’s going to be that famous athlete again, which is great for him, but a baby? He’s not going to be happy.”

She wondered if he would think she was like all the other women who did their best to trick him into supporting them. She thought about Emily showing up in his room and who knows how many others. Of course he would think the worst about her, she thought grimly. What other choice would he have? Talk about a disaster.

She opened her mouth to continue her rant, then noticed that Marsha was staring at her with a happy, almost blissful expression.

“You’re having a baby,” the other woman said, then stepped close and hugged her.

The warm, supportive embrace melted away Charity’s anxiety. Suddenly she could breathe easily.

“I guess I am,” Charity said, realizing that not keeping the baby wasn’t an option. Ready or not, she was going to be a mom. “I’m having a baby. Me.”

Marsha drew back slightly. “I’m going to be a great-grandmother. That sounds impressive. And old.”

“Not old. Experienced.”

Marsha laughed. “I think experienced makes me sound like an aging hooker.” She took Charity’s arm and led her into the living room. “Are you still in shock?”

“Yes, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon. It’s not real. I just found out five minutes ago.”

Marsha sat next to her and took her hand. “So you haven’t told Josh?”

“No. I just found myself coming here.” A million thoughts tumbled through her brain. She tried to pick just one to focus on, but she couldn’t. Talk about impossible.

“Are you staying?”

At first Charity didn’t understand the question, then she was hugging Marsha again, feeling the other woman’s fear over losing her family for the second time.

“I’m staying,” Charity told her firmly. “Being pregnant and single isn’t how I wanted to be known around town, but if you can live with it, then I can, too.”

“Of course I can live with it. I’m delighted.”

Charity straightened, then leaned back against the sofa. She pressed a hand to her belly. “Pregnant. There’s a conversation starter.” She glanced at Marsha. “Don’t worry. I know I have to tell him. And considering where I live, I need to do it soon. This is not a good place to keep secrets.”

“Have the two of you talked about any kind of future together?” Marsha asked delicately.

“We don’t plan much past the weekend. Josh is focused on the race and what that means to him. He wants to go back to his old life. I know that. I know he misses the excitement of racing.” The thrill of being famous. “He’s not going to like this.”

“He might surprise you. Josh has always wanted a family.”

“He strikes me as a ‘one day’ kind of guy. The man who always says that he would like to settle down, one day.” She looked at Marsha. “I’m not hoping for a miracle. He’s not going to fall to his knees and beg me to marry him.”

“Would you like him to?”

Charity looked away. She loved Josh—that was the easy part. But having a future with him? Not possible. “We want different things. We have different visions for our lives.”

“Marriage is all about compromise.”

“He wants to be in the limelight. I want normal, in every sense of the word. A really normal guy would be great.”

“But you’re not pregnant with a really normal guy’s baby. You’re pregnant with Josh’s.”

“A technicality,” Charity said with a smile. “But I do love him.”

Marsha patted her arm. “You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out. Josh will need a little time to get used to the fact that you’re pregnant, but I think it’s going to all work out. You’ll see.”

Charity hoped she was right. “If he doesn’t want to be a part of our lives, we’ll be fine. I was raised by a single mom. I know the good and the bad of the situation.” She took Marsha’s hand in her own. “It’s not like I’ll be completely by myself.”

“No, you won’t. You’ll have me, no matter what.”

The words gave her comfort.

“And the town,” Marsha added.

Charity groaned. “I didn’t think that part through. Everyone is going to go crazy when they find out I’m carrying Josh’s baby. What am I supposed to do about that?”

“Honestly?” Marsha asked. “Keep it a secret as long as possible.”

Charity laughed. “That’s not very helpful.”

“It’s the best I can do.”

* * *

TWO NIGHTS LATER, Charity sat on her bed as she and Josh watched a movie together. In the past forty-eight hours, she’d had dozens of opportunities to tell him she was pregnant and had chickened out each and every time.

She told herself she was looking for the perfect moment, which was a complete lie. She simply didn’t want him to know. Once he knew, everything would change and she wasn’t ready to lose him. Still, each day that went by created a problem. Withholding the information made her uncomfortable with herself. So she was going to have to suck it up and say the words.

The action on the television shifted. They were watching some kind of an international spy movie with the fate of the world resting on the shoulders of a handsome leading man. Sort of like James Bond, but without the yummy accent. The leading lady was supposed to be Russian and the bad guy was from a nameless European country.

When the bad guy’s girlfriend moved onto the screen, Josh pointed. “That’s Angelique. She made this movie right before we split up. I visited her on the set a few times.”

He spoke casually, as if sharing an interesting fact that had no consequence. Which would be the case, for anyone else. Not so much for her.

Charity had known Josh had been married to Angelique. She had a vague memory of a beautiful brunette with large eyes and huge breasts. But that mental image wasn’t anything like the very real, very beautiful woman she watched now.

Angelique wore little more than a short nightshirt. Her legs were endlessly long and perfect. Her breasts thrust toward the camera, her tight nipples clearly visible beneath the thin layer of silk.

There was something about her, some indefinable element that made her watchable and appealing. Charisma, Charity thought grimly. The same as Josh.

She’d never seen a picture of the two of them together, but she had a feeling they would look as if they completely belonged with each other. No one would question what either saw in the other. It made sense.

“You were married to her?” Her words came out as a question, even though she already knew the answer.

“I told you about her.”

Oh, sure. But there was a big difference between mentioning a former wife and admitting that one had been married to a goddess-like creature.

Not that she was going to say that to him. “She’s very beautiful,” she murmured.

“I guess.” Josh stared at the screen, then shrugged. “The nose job didn’t go well. She had to get a second surgery to fix it.”

Charity raised her eyebrows. “I’m not sure you should be telling me that.”

He turned to her, his hazel-green eyes dark with concern. “I know what you think when you look at her.”

“I doubt that.”

“I know what I think. It was a long time ago. I’m not sorry it’s over.”

Wasn’t he? After all, Angelique had left him. He wanted to get back into racing, to return to his former glory. How much of that was about showing his ex-wife exactly what she’d lost? Once he was on top again, it would be his turn to do the rejecting. Or maybe he planned to get back together with her and make perfect babies together. A completely irrational thought, she told herself. No doubt brought to life by worry and surging hormones.

“Don’t go there,” he told her.

“Go where?”

“Wherever it is you are right now. I’m not interested in her. Been there, done that.”

“Bought the T-shirt?”

He grinned at her. “Uh-huh.”

She looked at him, as if seeing him for the first time. The perfect features, the easy smile, the giant ego and warm, caring heart. He was a good guy, and under other circumstances, she would be almost comfortable having fallen in love with him. Unfortunately, she was dealing with these circumstances.

“Charity?” he asked, looking concerned. “What’s wrong?”

She drew in a breath, then coughed up the truth.

“I’m pregnant.”

* * *

JOSH HAD BEEN PREPARED to hear her say she thought she was coming down with something, or the sight of Angelique was intimidating or that she had decided she hated small-town living and wanted to move to L.A.

Instead there were two words and a faint buzzing sound in his head. He felt as if all the air had been sucked from the room. He couldn’t breathe, but that was the least of it. He couldn’t think. Couldn’t figure out what she’d meant.

She gazed at him expectantly, making him aware that he was supposed to say something in response.

Pregnant? Pregnant.

There was going to be a baby. His baby.

Josh rose from the bed and stared at Charity. A sense of urgency swept through him. He couldn’t have a kid now—he wasn’t ready. He didn’t have enough of his shit together. He would screw up everything.

Time, he told himself quickly. He had a few months to get ready. To figure it out and be the kind of dad a kid deserved.

Charity turned away. “I don’t expect anything,” she said flatly. “You don’t have to panic. I’m telling you as a courtesy, nothing more.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. “What do you mean?”

“I’m the one who’s pregnant, not you. The baby is my responsibility.”

“Mine, too,” he said, still not able to grasp the significance of what was happening.

A child. They were going to bring a child into the world. The phrase “ready or not” had never been so significant.

“I’ll figure this out,” he said, more to himself than her.

“You don’t have to.”

“I’m a part of this,” he told her. “I’ll be there for you and the baby.”

She didn’t look as if she believed him. Knowing all she did about his past, how he’d failed, he knew why she had doubts.

“Just give me a little time,” he told her, as he backed toward the door. “You’ll see.”

And then he was gone. Charity leaned back against the pillow and smoothed her hand over the still warm place on the bed. What she would see was how quickly he left, she thought sadly. His reaction wasn’t a surprise, but it was still very much a disappointment.

* * *

“OH MY GOD!” Pia stood in the doorway to her apartment and stared wide-eyed at Charity. “You look incredible. I love the cut and the color. You went to Julia, didn’t you? No one does highlights like her. Don’t tell Bella I said that. Wow. You’re all fluffy and pretty.”

Charity smiled wanly at her friend. “I’m not feeling especially fluffy.”

“Then come in and we’ll change that.”

Charity walked into the cheerful apartment. “I’m sorry for dropping in like this. I should have called. It’s late.”

Pia shook her head. “Don’t be silly. It’s not like I have a date or anything.” She led the way into the living room, where the TV showed a frozen frame of a movie. Sandra Bullock stood by a mailbox next to a house made almost entirely of glass.

“The Lake House,” Pia said. “I love it. I can’t help myself. He waited for her for two years. What guy does that?”

Charity hadn’t meant to come here. After Josh had left, she’d told herself that she would be fine. That she would get through this. Hundreds, maybe thousands of single women found out they were pregnant every day. They managed. It wasn’t the idea of being a parent on her own that was ripping her up inside. It was the realization that Josh didn’t love her back. She hadn’t really expected him to, but now she couldn’t even hope for a happy ending.

“All men are pigs,” she said, then motioned to the screen. “Except Keanu Reeves.”

“Exactly.” Pia led her to the sofa. “Although I should probably tell you I do have a new guy in my life.” She motioned to the short-haired marmalade cat curled up in a club chair. “That’s Jake,” she said, lowering her voice. “Crystal’s cat.”

“Oh. He’s beautiful.”

The cat looked up and stared at Charity. His eyes were large and the color of emeralds. His expression turned haughty, as if he found her wanting, then he put his head back down and closed his eyes.

“We’re spending the weekend together, seeing if we can figure out if we get along.” Pia wrinkled her nose. “I’m not really a pet person, but it’s a way to help Crystal. And maybe having a cat around will be a good thing.” She sounded doubtful.

“Is he friendly?”

“I don’t know. He keeps to himself. I’m respecting his need to take things slow.”

Charity stared at her friend. “He’s a cat.”

“I know, but aren’t they supposed to be haughty and aloof? I thought if I let him make the first move, things would go better. I don’t want him to think I want the relationship more than he does.”

“I think you’re giving him way too much credit. He doesn’t have a master plan.”

Pia eyed her loaner pet. “I’m thinking maybe he does. We’ll see what happens. So far he’s very quiet. And clean. I thought I’d be freaked out by the idea of a litterbox, but I’m not. His aim is a lot better than most guys I know.”

“Maybe he’s the answer.”

“Maybe.” Pia turned toward her. “Can I get you something? I have an assortment of ice cream selections. I’m going through a dairy phase. There’s not a single cookie in the whole place, but I probably have five different kinds of ice cream.”

“No, thanks.” Charity touched her stomach. So far she hadn’t had any cravings or queasiness, but she didn’t want to push anything too far.

“What’s going on?” Pia asked. “Something happened and I’m guessing it was with Josh.”

Charity nodded. “I don’t know why I let myself believe this would be different. Of all the guys to fall for. What was I thinking?”

“You weren’t thinking. That’s the problem. We don’t think when it comes to men. Honestly, I don’t know why Marsha is so hell-bent on getting more of them in town. They’re nothing but trouble.”

She reached for Charity’s hand and squeezed it. “Start at the beginning and tell me the horrible thing he’s done. Then we’ll get drunk and call him names.”

“I can’t.”

Pia smiled. “Don’t worry. We’ll find your anger. It’s right under the hurt. Trust me—I have a world of experience at this. I’ll have you swearing in ways you never thought possible.”

Charity stared at her friend. “No, I mean I can’t have anything to drink. I’m pregnant.”

She had to give Pia credit. Nothing about her expression changed. Her only reaction was to calmly ask, “Are you sure?”

“I peed on a stick.”

“And there’s only been Josh?”

That made Charity smile. “Do I seem like someone who would sleep with more than one guy?”

“You have depths. It could happen.”

“It didn’t. I’m pregnant.” She said the words more for herself than Pia, to help herself get used to the idea.

“How do you feel about it?” Pia asked. “Have you always dreamed of having children?”

“Sure. Haven’t you?”

Pia shrugged. “Some days. But it’s a lot of responsibility, and parents can really screw up a kid. I’m not sure I want to take the risk of passing on the family tradition of emotional devastation. But we’re not talking about me. How do you feel?”

“I don’t know. Excited, scared.” She drew in a breath and mentally poked around inside. “Happy,” she said slowly, then realized it was true. “I’m happy.”

“Then yay you.” Pia squeezed her fingers again. “You’ll be a great mom.”

“How do you know?”

“You have the personality. You take care of things. You care. You have Marsha for a grandmother and she’s amazing.”

“This isn’t how I would have chosen to do things,” she admitted. “But I don’t have regrets.”

Pia released her hand, then wrinkled her nose. “At the risk of breaking your mood, I’m guessing Josh didn’t take it very well? You wouldn’t be here if he did.”

“He freaked,” Charity said with a sigh. “He mumbled something about figuring it out, swore he would be there for me and the baby, then raced out so fast he left those clichéd skid marks on the floor. There’s no way he’s going to be able to handle it.”

She hated to think that, let alone say it. “I didn’t realize I had a whole fantasy about Josh until it all came crashing down around me. I’d hoped he would be excited, or at least open to the idea.”

“At the risk of violating the girl code, you need to give him a break. You told him something huge. He should get a few minutes to absorb it all. He might surprise you.”

“Not in a good way.”

Pia shook her head. “Josh is a good guy. When things are tough, he comes through. Give him a little credit.”

“For running?”

“Okay, then give him a chance to step up and do the right thing. He said he’d be there for you.”

“What does that mean?” Charity found herself getting irritated. “Maybe he’ll do promo shots with the baby for someone who makes athletic gear for infants. That’s about all he’s interested in. He’s getting back into racing. What matters to him is being the man he was. He’s told me that. He wants to return to that world, claim it all again. This is about being famous. He wants to be the guy on the poster.”

Pia stared at her for a long time. “What do you want?” she asked softly.

“I want everything he doesn’t. A traditional life. Husband, kids. A house and a dog.” She glanced at the now sleeping Jake. “Maybe a cat. I want a certainty to my days. I want roots and neighbors and date night and the rhythm of the seasons. I want passion and loyalty.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“I didn’t have a chance. I barely managed to say I was pregnant and he was gone.”

“He’ll be back.”

“It won’t change anything.” Charity leaned toward her friend. “You’ve known Josh for years. Has he ever once struck you as the domestic type?”

“He has his moments.”

“The man lives in a hotel. You know that racing is everything to him. No. Not the racing. He doesn’t want to compete, he wants to win. He wants to be a god again. There’s no room for ordinary where he’s going.”

“So you’re going to assume the worst about him without asking for what you want, or even hinting that there’s something he can do to make you happy.”

“What? No. That’s not fair.”

“You didn’t tell him what you want?”

“I already told you. There wasn’t time.”

“And when he comes back to talk to you about all this? You know he will. What happens then? Is he supposed to read your mind?”

“If he cared about me at all, he’d already know what I want.”

The words sounded lame, even as Charity spoke them. Pia simply raised her eyebrows.

Charity shifted on her seat. “Okay,” she began. “I sort of see your point. I should probably tell Josh what I’m thinking. It’s the mature thing to do.”

“I know you don’t want to get hurt,” Pia said.

Charity nodded. “I love him. I’m in love with him, which I’m okay with. The thing is, I don’t think he’s interested in loving me back.”

“You won’t know until you talk to him.”

“And when he crushes me like a bug?”

Pia gave her a warm smile. “You don’t know he will.”

“Can you honestly see him saying he loves me and wants to be with me for the rest of his life?”

“Yes.”

Now it was Charity’s turn to smile, although her feelings were more sad than hopeful. “You’re not a very good liar.”

“I think there’s a chance.”

There was always a chance, Charity thought sadly. Just not a very good one.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

JOSH ALWAYS ENJOYED Los Angeles. The city was big and sprawling, with an air of self-importance. New York might be the leading edge of the country and the midsection might have the heart, but L.A. was cool and everyone knew it.

He took the elevator down to the baggage-claim level at LAX, then walked toward the petite woman in a suit, holding a sign that said Golden.

“Not that I wouldn’t know you anywhere,” she said when he walked up to her. “How was your flight?”

“Good,” he said. “Quick.”

“I prefer mine to last,” she said as she led the way to the town car.

She was pretty enough. Mid twenties, easy smile and a body no conservative suit could conceal. There was a time when he would have considered pursuing her not very subtle invitation. Maybe even in the back of the town car. Today…not so much.

The flight from Sacramento had been less than an hour. The drive into Century City took nearly that long. Airport traffic was tough, as always, and once they arrived at the high rise, they went underground to find parking.

Josh took the elevator to the thirty-second floor, where a tall, thin man was waiting. The offices were quietly elegant, as was typical for an upscale law firm. The carpeting was plush, the views amazing and the conference room massive.

Josh walked in and greeted the people already waiting for him. There were two lawyers, an advertising executive, three former racing coaches, a representative from a bike manufacturer and an athletic-shoe designer.

After introductions and offers of coffee, they sat down at the table. One of the lawyers, Pete Gray, went first.

“Your proposal was interesting,” Pete began, nodding at the folder in front of him. “Our clients are intrigued. You’ve lined up excellent sponsors, you have regional and local support. The city obviously wants this to happen.”

“They’ve offered land and tax breaks,” Josh said. “It doesn’t get much better than that.”

Everyone nodded.

Pete continued. “We have preliminary bids for the construction itself. There was an interesting one from Hendrix Construction. The owner, an Ethan Hendrix, asked for the opportunity to undercut the lowest bid by five percent.”

Josh hadn’t known about that. “His firm does quality work. They would be my preferred choice.”

“We’re putting together a prospectus for our clients,” Pete continued. “We’re recommending they invest. On one condition.”

Josh had had an idea about this ever since he’d been invited to L.A. for the meeting. He still didn’t know how he felt about it.

“We want you to run the school.”

Josh opened the folder in front of him. As he’d put together much of the package, he knew what was inside. The pictures of kids on racing bikes were familiar, as was the diagram for the facility. There would be workout space, an indoor track, classrooms and lecture halls. His idea had always been to integrate the school into the community. Over time he could see them bringing in experts to talk about everything from nutrition and aging to different sports for every season.

“I’ve never run anything like this,” he said.

“You have several successful businesses,” one of the women said. He thought she might be the advertising executive. “You understand how to make a profit.”

“I’m not a coach.”

“No. You’ll be hiring coaches,” Pete told him. “You have the skill set we’re looking for and a name. Being Josh Golden helps get investors interested. My recommendation hinges on you, Josh. Unless you’re thinking of getting back into racing professionally. I’ve heard some rumors.”

“I’m in a race,” he said. “I’m going to see how that goes.”

Two of the coaches looked interested. The third was skeptical.

He knew that professional racing was a grueling sport and that he would be facing a hell of a challenge if he planned on competing professionally. Training would take over his life. He would have to commit with every fiber of his being. There wouldn’t be room for anything else. Not even the fear.

But glory and fame weren’t what drove him. Instead he wanted to find that part of himself he’d lost. Once he had it, there wouldn’t be anything left to prove. If he could get that piece back in a single race, that’s all it would take.

“If you were to return to professional racing, do you have any idea as to how long you would be on the circuit?”

“No more than a year or two,” he said, hoping it would be a lot less than that.

Pete looked at the other people around the table. “If he committed to running the school when he retired, we could get by with a temporary administrator.” He turned to Josh. “Would that interest you?”

“It might.”

While he was intrigued by the idea of the school, what interested him most was that being in charge of something like the racing school meant he would have something stable to offer Charity and the baby. Something that would make her proud of him. Something that might make him enough.

He hadn’t spoken to her since he’d found out she was pregnant. Probably a mistake, he told himself. They had to talk about what was happening, come up with a game plan. If he could explain that he was going to try to be worthy, maybe she would give him a chance.

A kid, he thought, still not able to take it all in. He was having a kid.

“You’ll let us know?” Pete asked.

Josh nodded. “After the race. I’ll let you know if I’m going to run the school and when I plan to start.”

“Excellent. We want you on board. You’re an integral part of this plan.”

They all shook hands, then Josh went back down to the parking garage where his car and driver waited.

If he didn’t agree to run the school, he would lose the funding he needed. It could probably be found elsewhere, but it might take a while. The town needed the school now. Which meant it all came down to him.

Was that the kind of job he wanted? Could he do it and did he want to?

He thought about the high school kids he rode with several times a week. How he’d gone from being terrified of being anywhere close to them on a bike, to helping them train. He enjoyed watching them get better and knowing he was a part of the improvement. He liked the idea that Brandon could go all the way—be an international contender.

The school would be a way for Brandon and other kids like him to get to the next level. Of course he wanted to be a part of that. But first he had to get back to being the man he’d been. He had to compete and win.

When he landed back in Sacramento, he drove directly to Fool’s Gold. But instead of going to his place or Charity’s office, he made his way out of town to the large manufacturing facility Ethan owned. He drove around several guys loading the base of a windmill on a big rig and headed for the office.

Ethan’s truck was out front. He went inside and found his friend in his office.

“Got a minute?” he asked as he walked in.

Ethan waved at the chair on the opposite side of his desk. “Sure. What’s up?”

“I just got back from L.A.”

Ethan grinned. “I thought you looked a little frayed around the edges. What’s new in La La land?”

“I met with the people who can get funding for the racing school. The school you bid on.”

“Interesting.”

“They want me to run it.”

Ethan leaned back in his chair. “I turned them down last week. In case you were wondering.”

Josh chuckled. “Sure you did.”

“I’m busy with my own empire. As are you. Considering it?”

“Maybe. The other businesses—the sporting goods store, the hotel, the real estate—any good manager could handle it. But the school is different.”

“They want your name.”

It wasn’t a question, but Josh nodded anyway. “Having me on board makes it easy to get sponsors and students.”

“So why aren’t you jumping at the chance?”

“I don’t know if I can do it.”

“You’d have coaches. Staff. Hell, you could just stand around and look pretty and they’d be happy.”

Josh ignored the slam. “I don’t know if I can ride.”

Ethan’s eyebrows drew together. “You’re going to find out in a few short weeks.”

True enough. The race was rapidly approaching. Sometimes Josh knew he had it in him—that he had conquered his demons. Other times he knew he was fooling himself and that he would totally lose it in the middle of a race, on international television so the entire world would know he was a useless coward. If that happened, he would have trouble finding work at a hot dog stand, let alone in the racing community.

“You can do it,” Ethan told him.

“Want to bet?”

“Sure. You’ve never walked away from anything in your life.”

“I walked away from you,” Josh reminded him. “I was scared. You were a friend and you needed me and I still hid from you for years.”

“That was different.”

“No. It was exactly the same. After Frank died…” He rubbed his temples. “I still see the body flying, him hitting the ground. It’s not like in the movies. Death doesn’t come with a soundtrack.”

“Beating yourself up doesn’t do a damn thing for Frank,” Ethan told him. “He was a pro. He knew what he was doing.”

“He was a kid. I was supposed to watch out for him.”

Ethan stared at him for a long time. “Is there anything you could have done to change things?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I could have shown him the way out of the peloton.”

“You really believe that?”

Josh didn’t have an answer and that was the hell of it. “Charity’s pregnant,” he said instead.

Ethan looked at him and grinned. “Seriously? She slept with you? Why?”

Despite everything, Josh chuckled. “I’m the best.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” The smile faded a little. “You happy about this?”

“Still stunned. We’ve been seeing each other for a while, but we hadn’t talked about the future or getting serious.”

“A baby has a way of changing that.”

“Tell me about it. She said she wasn’t expecting anything from me. That she was telling me as a courtesy, nothing more.”

“That’s cold.”

“Maybe, but given my reputation, do you blame her?”

“No.” Ethan leaned toward him. “What do you want? To marry her? Settle down?”

Marriage? Again? There would be no halfway with Charity. If he let himself love her, he would be all in. Angelique had bruised him when she’d left. Charity would have the ability to rip out his heart and leave him for dead. Why would anyone give away that kind of power on purpose?

But they were having a baby together. A child. A piece of each of them. It was pretty damned spectacular.

“I always wanted kids,” he said slowly. “In the future. More abstract than real. This is different. What if I can’t do it?” He studied his friend. “I never knew my dad. What if I’m like him? What if I screw up everything? I don’t know if I’m in the right place.”

“Every new dad is scared,” Ethan told him. “My dad had six kids and he was terrified every time. But you do it anyway. You live with the fear and vow to do your best. That’s what I did.”

Four words. Simple, easy words. Josh wanted to bang his head against the desk.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I shouldn’t have brought this up.”

Ethan shook his head. “You think you’re the first person to talk about someone being pregnant in front of me? It was a long time ago.” He stared at Josh. “What I remember most was wanting that baby more than anything. We’d just found out Rayanne was having a boy. My son. God, that felt good.” He cleared his throat. “Trust me. You want that.”

Josh nodded because he didn’t know what to say. He tried to remember how long it had been since Rayanne had died, taking their unborn child with her. Leaving Ethan alone.

What if something happened to Charity? It was one thing for her to decide he wasn’t good enough. He would eventually figure out how to recover from that. But to know she was gone seemed unimaginable.

“Have you talked to her since she told you she was pregnant?” Ethan asked.

“No.”

“That would be the first step. She’s had what, two or three days to imagine the worst? And believe me, women are good at imagining the worst. Go see her. Find out what she wants. Tell her what you want. Work it out. You always did have a way with the ladies, although I could never understand what they saw in you.”

Josh grinned. “They’re blinded by my perfection.”

“I’m impressed by your ability to delude yourself.”

Both men stood.

“You okay?” Ethan asked.

“Yeah.” Or he would be, once he figured out how to be whole again. Because being who he’d been before meant being worthy. Not just of the baby, but also of Charity.

* * *

“HI.”

Charity looked up and saw Josh standing in the entrance to her office.

She hadn’t seen him in three days. Not a word or a glimpse. Just incredibly painful silence after she’d told him she was having his baby.

Every hour that passed made her more and more sad as she realized he wasn’t the least bit interested in even pretending to want the baby. He was going to walk away. He would probably pay child support, maybe offer to take the kid for a day here or there, but that would be it.

The death of her dreams, dreams she hadn’t been willing to admit, was painful. Even worse was looking up at him, and knowing that she could never be in the same room as him and not want him, not love him. It made the concept of getting over him and moving on impossible to imagine.

“Charity?”

“Come in,” she said.

He stepped inside and closed her door, then moved to her desk. He took a seat and gave her a crooked smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“No morning sickness or anything?”

“Not yet.”

He gazed into her eyes. “Tell me what you want.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re pregnant. We’re having a child together. Tell me what you want. How do you see this playing out? Do you want me to stay away? Be involved? Do you think we should get married? What do you think would work best for you?”

What worked best for her was a man who genuinely loved her. One who couldn’t picture life without her. A man who longed to have a family with her and grow old with her. She wanted passionate declarations, not rational lists of possibilities.

The semi-proposal hurt the worst, she admitted. Getting married for the sake of the baby crushed nearly every romantic dream she had.

As she looked at him, she saw caring in his eyes. A little worry—maybe for her, maybe for himself. Affection. But he was still Josh Golden, perfect, worship-worthy, not for lesser mortals such as herself.

Even as she thought she could tell him the truth, that she was completely in love with him, she dismissed the idea. Why make him feel bad? It wasn’t as if he was going to love her back.

“I’m sure we can come to some kind of an agreement,” she said.

“What does that mean?”

“Just what I said. Do you want to be part of the baby’s life? I’m open to that. I’m staying here in Fool’s Gold. While you’ll probably be racing all over the world, this is your home base. So when you’re in town, we’ll have a schedule or something.”

He frowned. “And that’s what you want?”

“It seems the most rational approach.”

“Nothing more?”

She tried not to flinch. What did he expect her to tell him?

“What more did you have in mind?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Something.”

“When you get it figured out, let me know. We’ll talk about it.”

He studied her. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I have no idea.”

“There’s something.”

She gazed at him, willing her expression to stay neutral. If he guessed how she felt, he would feel sorry for her. Worse, he might try to make things better by offering a crumb or two of attention. Not exactly the road to happiness.

Finally he stood. “I guess we have time to figure it out.”

She nodded.

He hesitated for a second, then left.

When she was alone, she breathed out a sigh of relief. One conversation down, who knows how many left to endure. She told herself it would get easier and hoped she was telling the truth.

But before she could turn back to her computer, Bernie hurried in. Her normally calm expression was tense.

“You won’t believe it,” she began. “I don’t believe it.”

“What are we talking about?” Charity asked.

“The money. The missing money.” Bernie put her hands on her hips. “I found it.”

Charity blinked at her. “You’re kidding.”

“No. Well, I found most of it. Some has already been spent, but most of it is sitting in an offshore account. It wasn’t easy to trace, but I’m good at what I do. I’m just so pissed.”

Charity almost didn’t want to ask. “Who took it?”

“It’s always the person you least expect. I should know that by now. But once again I was sucked in by a friendly smile and an offer to help.”

“Who?” Charity repeated.

“Robert.”

She stood and stared at Bernie. “No. I don’t believe it.” Robert? Quiet Robert who lived alone and cared way too much about the Civil War? “He’s the one who figured out the money was missing and reported it.”

“I know. He was angry about the money, too. Always talking about how whoever took it was stealing from the good people of Fool’s Gold. I bought it. Hell, I even went to dinner with him.”

“Me, too,” Charity murmured, unable to take it in. Robert? Not possible. “You’re sure?”

“There’s a paper trail leading right back to him. I found it through dumb luck, which annoys me. There are money transfers, withdrawals. He’s good, I’ll give him that. Just not good enough.”

“What happens now?”

Bernie rolled her eyes. “I’ve already called your police chief to take him into custody while I notify state authorities. She’ll be here any second. I’m just so mad. He had me completely fooled.”

“He had all of us fooled,” Charity said, still not able to believe it. “Is he going to jail?”

“For a really long time. I have to go make those calls.”

“Do you need me to do anything?” Charity asked.

“Just don’t tell anyone I thought he was a nice guy.”

“You and me, both.”

After Bernie left, Charity tried to go back to work, but she couldn’t think. Robert the thief? The information proved that once again she was a horrible judge of character. She’d been convinced his only flaws were that he was a little boring and kind of a mama’s boy. Instead he’d stolen millions of dollars, spearheaded the investigation, most likely to keep attention off himself, and had fooled an entire town.

She was furious. Beyond furious. She’d actually felt bad about not wanting to go out with him. Talk about a new level of stupid!

She stood and crossed to her window, where she saw the police cars pull up. In a matter of a minute or two, Robert would be in custody.

Still pissed, she went down the hall and entered Robert’s office. He glanced up and smiled.

“Hello, Charity. How’s it going?”

“Not well for you. Did you really steal that money?”

His expression twisted a little. There was a second of confusion, followed by surprise, then an annoyingly smug look.

“What a question. I’m insulted.”

“Are you? I don’t think so.” She studied him, looking for the truth. “How? No, wait. That doesn’t matter. Why? That’s the more important question. Why would you take money from the town? Did you really think we were all so stupid that you wouldn’t get caught?”

“I didn’t do anything,” he told her. “But if I did, no one would find out.”

“Is that what you think? That you’re smarter than all of us?” She leaned against the doorframe. “Sorry, Robert. It turns out Bernie’s even smarter than you.”

The smugness faded. “What are you talking about?”

“She’s already called the chief. Apparently she found your secret accounts and has everything she needs to put you away for a long time.”

He sprang to his feet and started for the door. She stepped out of the way and watched him fly toward the stairs. Seconds later he tripped on Bernie’s outstretched foot and went tumbling onto the marble floor. He lay sprawled there on his belly. Sheriff Burns climbed the stairs and calmly put her foot on the small of his back.

“I was halfway home when I got this call,” the sheriff told him, not sounding happy. “I don’t like it when anyone messes with my plans.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“I FEEL SO USED,” Marsha said the next morning as she and Charity sat in the mayor’s office. “I liked Robert. I believed in him.”

“I dated him,” Charity said, shaking her head. “I felt bad that I didn’t like him more. How did this happen?”

“We were too trusting,” Marsha told her. “He had such excellent recommendations.”

“Is this where we talk about what a nice, quiet man he was?”

News had spread quickly. Not only had Robert stolen the town’s money, he’d been using a false name. Apparently the circumstances under which his elderly mother had died were suspicious and he was sitting in the city jail, waiting to be extradited back to Oregon for a possible murder charge.

“I have inherited my mother’s bad taste in men,” Charity said glumly. “Here’s one more example.”

“Robert doesn’t count. You barely went out with him.”

“I had no sense there was anything wrong with him. That should be a few points against me.”

“Half a point,” Marsha told her. “How are you feeing?”

“Fine. No obvious symptoms yet. No weird cravings or morning sickness.”

“Have you talked to Josh recently?”

“Since the original announcement? He came by and asked me what I want from him. When I didn’t have an answer, he said we would work it out. It was a thrilling moment for me.”

“You’re hurt.”

“Some. And angry.”

“Because he couldn’t read your mind?”

Partly, but Charity wasn’t going to admit that. “Why do I have to do the asking? Shouldn’t he be offering? This is as much his child as mine.”

“So you want him to do the right thing. Are you waiting for him to propose?”

“No.” She tried to put a little force behind the word. “I want him to…” She wanted so much—it was difficult to pick just one direction. “I want him to want to be with me and the baby. I’m not interested in doing anything because he thinks he has to.”

“Does he know you want to be with him?”

Charity didn’t want to answer that either.

“You have a hard time asking for what you want,” Marsha said. “Is it because your mother was never there for you?”

“Probably. I don’t trust easily.”

“What has Josh done to make you not trust him?”

“Nothing,” she admitted reluctantly. “But look at his past. He wants to get back into racing. He wants everything that goes with it.”

“Or maybe he just wants to know he hasn’t failed.”

An interesting point, Charity admitted grudgingly. But before she could figure out what to say, Sheryl stuck her head in the door.

“Charity, I’m sorry to bother you, but it’s Dr. Daniels from the hospital committee. He says it’s important.”

“Thanks.” Charity rose.

“You can take it here,” Marsha told her. “I’ll go get some coffee.”

“Thanks.” Charity waited until she was alone in the mayor’s office, then picked up the phone. “Hello, Dr. Daniels.”

“Ms. Jones. How are you?”

There was something about his voice. A hesitation. Her heart sank. “I’m good. What’s going on?”

“You know we really enjoyed your presentation and everyone on the committee thinks the town is great.”

Here came the but.

“But we have some concerns. While Fool’s Gold is a great town, it’s small and you already have one hospital. We’re concerned we won’t have enough of a workforce to support the new hospital and we didn’t see much in the way of community support.”

The need to scream grew, but she forced herself to breathe deeply and calmly. “Dr. Daniels, we have a very well-educated workforce and a community that is beyond eager to embrace the new hospital.”

“I’m sure you think that’s the case, Charity—”

“I don’t think it, I know it,” she said, interrupting him. “And I can prove it. Please give me one more chance with the committee.”

There was a long pause. “I’ll give you that because you’ve impressed me from the beginning. However, I’ll warn you, we’ve already voted on the other site.”

“Then I have my work cut out for me, don’t I?” she said, determined to sound positive when she felt crushed inside.

“Friday,” Dr. Daniels said. “Nine o’clock.”

“I’ll be ready.”

They hung up. Charity staggered to the sofa and collapsed, then covered her face with her hands.

Three days. She had three days to find a miracle. Three days to come up with a way to convince the hospital committee that yes, there was plenty of local support, not to mention a trained workforce. She’d already provided plenty of statistics, shown them Fool’s Gold, offered tax and housing incentives. What was left?

“Not good news?” Marsha asked when she returned to her office.

Charity briefly outlined what had happened. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted. “We were so close. I know they liked our town better, so why are they balking?”

“Is the other city larger?”

“Yes. It’s about twice the size, but it doesn’t have any of our charm. The location isn’t close to this nice, they don’t have a better trained workforce and I know we’re more enthusiastic than they are. Why won’t they believe me?”

“I guess you’re going to have to show them.”

“How? How do I prove something they’ve already seen but won’t believe?”

“Give them proof they can’t ignore.” Marsha patted her arm. “Ask, Charity. Ask for what you want.”

For someone used to being in complete control, the concept was impossible to imagine, let alone do. “How?”

Marsha gave her an enigmatic, grandmotherly smile. “You’re going to have to trust me,” she said. “And the town.”

Trust someone with her future? Her job? “What if I can’t?”

“Take a leap of faith. Let us surprise you.”

* * *

GERALD SATERLEE WAS AN annoying sonofabitch, Josh thought as he pushed himself to ride faster. Sweat poured down his back, his legs ached, but he wasn’t about to let some second-rate French racer beat him during a practice run.

Saterlee had shown up in Fool’s Gold the day before, a week ahead of anyone else arriving for the race. He claimed to want to acclimate, but Josh knew better. The bastard had been sent ahead to check him out and report back. The world of racing wanted to know if Josh Golden still had it.

A smart strategy would be to let Saterlee beat him easily so no one would have any expectations. That had been Josh’s plan. But as soon as they started riding, he’d felt his competitive nature kick in. He couldn’t do it—couldn’t let Saterlee think he was better.

They continued up the hill, most of the high school racers falling back. Brandon kept pace, but he was fading fast. Josh looked up at the few miles of hill left and knew that it would just be him and Saterlee in a few minutes.

Sure enough, a mile short of the peak, Brandon slowed. “Sorry, man,” he yelled.

Josh waved at him and continued to pump his legs.

His body had been honed for this, he told himself. He’d been riding every day for the past two years. He’d worked out in the gym, strengthening every part of him. While his brain had been busy healing, his body had been preparing for a comeback. Now he would find out if he’d managed to pull it all together.

As they closed in on the highest point in the road, Josh felt that magic surge of energy. The sense that there were plenty of reserves, that he could ride forever. He glanced at Saterlee and saw exhaustion in his eyes. Josh knew he wasn’t just winning. This was better—it was certainty.

He slowed suddenly and reached down to rub his calf. As if something hurt. He bent his head to hide any hint of satisfaction. Saterlee looked back, grinned like an idiot and rode on. Josh watched him go.

Word would spread quickly. They would say he wasn’t what he’d once been. That the comeback was about ego rather than ability. They would speak of him sadly, with respect, but on the inside they’d be pleased.

He could live with that, he told himself. Because on the day of the race, he would kick their collective asses. And then he would walk away, having won it all. It was going to be a good day.

* * *

THE TV STUDIO WAS exactly as Charity remembered, only this time she was the one being interviewed, not Josh. And there was no one salivating to have sex with her. Probably a good thing, she thought. She was freaked out enough about the possibility of losing the hospital. The idea of having to deal with an aggressive suitor would probably push her over the edge.

Unless the guy in question was Josh, she thought sadly. Him she would like to see. But the last couple of days had been crazy busy, with her trying to pull together a new presentation. Josh had left her a couple of messages. She’d returned his calls only to miss him, as well. She’d seen him around town, training for the upcoming race, but hadn’t been able to do much more than wave.

At some point they were going to have to have an actual conversation. Make decisions. Be grown-ups. But apparently not today.

The local reporter, a pretty woman about Charity’s age, waited until Charity was seated comfortably. The sound girl had already put the mike on her and someone had put a light meter in front of her face.

“How long do you think you’ll need?” the reporter asked. “We don’t like the segments to go past two minutes.”

“Not a problem,” Charity told her. “I plan to beg quickly.”

“Is this about the hospital bid? I thought they loved us.”

“So did I. They have some concerns, which is why I’m here.”

“Damn. My mom wants me to marry a doctor.” The reporter flashed a smile. “Easier to do if there’s a new hospital.”

Charity laughed, then straightened in her chair when the reporter indicated they were ready to begin. A few seconds later, bright lights clicked on.

“I’m sitting here with Charity Jones, Fool’s Gold’s new city planner. One of Charity’s current projects is convincing a California hospital to open their newest campus here in town. How’s that going, Charity?”

Charity stared into the camera. She drew in a breath and told herself to go for confident and capable.

“We’ve had excellent negotiations,” she began, then went through a few of the particulars. “Unfortunately, we seem to have hit a little bump in the road.”

“How’s that?”

“The planning committee has some concerns.” Charity explained about the need for local support and a training program for nurses and technicians. “I’m meeting with the committee in two days. If anyone has any ideas, please e-mail me directly.” She gave her e-mail address. “Or you can call City Hall and leave me a message.” She gave that number, as well. “A hospital of this size would be a great benefit to the community. While our current hospital is excellent, the new hospital offers a trauma center. This town deserves the facility. I’m determined to make it happen, but I’ll need your help. Thank you.”

* * *

FRIDAY MORNING CHARITY COULDN’T eat breakfast. She’d been up most of the night, reviewing her presentation. Adding and deleting points until she could barely remember what she was supposed to be talking about.

But as she slipped on her shoes and checked herself one more time in the mirror, she felt a kind of calm. Whatever happened, the town had come through for her.

After her TV appearance, so many e-mails had flooded her inbox, the city’s computer system had shut down for three hours. On Thursday, it had been overloaded and fizzled for half the day. She’d received phone calls, hand-delivered notes and dozens of ideas. Many of them had been excellent and had rounded out her presentation. Now she could only hope a small percentage of those people actually showed up, demonstrating to the committee that Fool’s Gold was the right place to build.

She left the hotel shortly after eight and made her way to City Hall. The meeting was at nine. She’d reserved the large auditorium in the basement, hoping she wasn’t being too optimistic. It seated about two hundred. If they could get fifty or sixty people there, that would help. A hundred would be better.

“It’s a work day,” she told herself as she entered the building. “That will cut down on the crowd.” Still, this was important. If they could just make time…

She took the stairs down to the basement. Last night she’d gone over her presentation twice, had made sure the screen was in place and checked the sound system. She’d also arranged for a backup computer just in case. Sheryl had ordered in large pots of coffee. The Fox and Hound had donated mugs and napkins. Morgan’s daughter ran a bakery that would be providing donuts.

Charity stepped off the stairs and entered a dark, quiet hall. No one was here.

She stood in the shadows, fighting disappointment. Not a single member of the community had come. There wasn’t anyone. Worse, she couldn’t see Sheryl or anyone else from the city. There was only silence.

Her stomach turned over as panic flooded her. What was wrong? Had she missed the meeting? Was it the wrong day? Had she woken up in an alternate universe?

“Charity?”

The warm, familiar voice made her turn. She glanced toward the auditorium and saw Josh waiting for her.

He smiled. “You turned your phone off.”

“What?”

“Everyone’s been trying to leave a message. Come on.” He took her hand and led her to the stairs.

“What are you doing? I have a presentation.”

“Tell me about it. Didn’t it occur to you that on one of the most important days of your life, you should leave your cell phone on?”

She followed him up the stairs. “I don’t understand. Of course it’s on.” She pulled it out of her purse and stared at the blank screen. Apparently the battery had died in the night. “Oh God. What did I miss?”

“So many people said they wanted to come that we had to move the meeting.”

Move? “Where is it now?”

“High school gym.” He glanced at his watch. “We have forty minutes. Don’t worry.”

Her heart thudded in her chest. “I can’t be late.”

“You won’t be.”

They raced out of City Hall and toward the SUV parked in front. She’d barely thrown herself inside when Josh started the engine.

“My presentation,” she said, remembering everything she’d left in her office.

“Sheryl took care of it. Everything’s been moved. She tried to call you this morning, but Mary at the front desk knew you’d been up until three, so she wouldn’t put the calls through. I was training, so I didn’t get the calls either.”

He raced through the oddly deserted streets of Fool’s Gold. About a half mile from the high school, they ran into traffic. Josh stuck his head out the window, yelling that he had Charity with him. Instantly cars began moving out of the way.

They continued to the high school. There wasn’t anywhere to park, so Josh simply pulled to the side of the road.

“Go,” he said, pointing toward the gym. “The doors are standing open. Marsha’s already inside. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He grinned. “You’re going to do great.”

Charity wanted to say something, to touch him, kiss him and maybe talk about their future. But there wasn’t time. She was already opening the door, then jumping down and hurrying toward the gym.

Once inside, she stopped to stare. The huge space was overflowing with people. The bleachers were full, as were the rows of chairs on the gym floor. There was a stage at one end, with a table. The hospital committee sat there, looking slightly dazed. Banners proclaiming that Fool’s Gold wanted the hospital covered the walls and the cheerleaders were leading the crowd in several strange but interesting cheers about health care and becoming a nurse.

Marsha saw Charity and waved. Charity made her way to the stage.

“My phone died,” she murmured to her grandmother. “I didn’t know we’d moved.”

“We had to. People started arriving about seven this morning. I’ve never seen a turnout like this.” She smiled at Charity. “They heard your appeal and responded. You won’t believe the offers that have been pouring in.” She motioned to the folders lying on the table. “You did very well.”

“We don’t know if the hospital is going to build here or not yet.”

“Either way, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” Charity gave herself a moment to enjoy feeling as if she’d finally found where she belonged, then drew in a breath and walked over to the conference table. “Good morning.”

“Impressive,” Dr. Daniels said, motioning to the crowd. “I like the banners.”

“You’re going to like the information I have even more.” She picked up the microphone on the table and turned it on. “Shall we get started?”

The huge gym went instantly quiet.

Charity had done a lot of presentations in the past. It was part of her job description. But she didn’t remember ever having an audience this big or enthused. Although everyone stayed quiet, she could feel them willing her to do well. Their support gave her confidence.

She moved to the podium and opened the folder lying there.

“Dr. Daniels, I’d like to welcome you and your committee back to Fool’s Gold and thank you for giving me one more chance to convince you this is where you should be building your new hospital. When we last spoke, you mentioned two specific concerns. A trained workforce and community support.” She looked up and grinned. “Let me show you why you have nothing to worry about.”

Over the next hour, she walked the committee through the detailed presentation. She explained how the California University campus at Fool’s Gold had developed a nursing curriculum, including several advanced-degree specialties. That the Wilson Memorial teaching hospital would be sending different intern and resident rotations to the new hospital.

She showed them plans for a new golf course, housing projects and reviewed the excellent test scores at the local schools. Then she showed a projected schedule of fundraisers to help with special projects at the hospital.

“As for the community support,” she said. “I believe the citizens of Fool’s Gold have already spoken for themselves.”

The crowd rose and applauded loudly. There were whistles and shouts.

Dr. Daniels looked stunned. “If you’ll give us a few minutes to talk this over,” he said, his eyes slightly glazed.

Charity nodded and turned off the mike. People in the gym started talking. She saw Josh hurrying toward her, weaving through the rows of chairs. After going down the stairs, she met him in front of the podium. He grabbed her hand and pulled her through a side door, into a quiet hallway.

“You did good,” he told her.

“We all did. Everyone came through. The information I had was great, but having so many people show up to express their support is invaluable.” She felt a growing warmth inside, a sense of being home. If the hospital moved here, she wouldn’t have done it all by herself, and that made the victory even sweeter.

This town, these people, it was all that she’d been searching for her whole life. A place to call home. A place to belong.

She’d been lost for so long, she thought, staring into Josh’s beautiful eyes. Doing her best to make the right choice so she wouldn’t get hurt. Wouldn’t be left. But living that way meant missing so much. It meant missing the best parts.

“Whatever happens,” she whispered. “With the race, with the baby, with the future, I want you to know I don’t regret any of it. I love you.”

Josh put his hands on her shoulders, then kissed her. “I love you, too,” he said when he straightened.

The floor seemed to lurch a little, then still. She felt every muscle freeze in shock. “W-what?”

He grinned. “I love you, Charity. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I love being with you, how I feel when I’m around you. I want to be the man in your life. The person you can depend on. I want us to be a family. For always. I want you to marry me.”

The words bounced around in her brain like a dozen pinballs. Individually they made sense but together they were impossible to believe.

“You love me?”

“Yeah.” He kissed her again. “As soon as the race is over, we’ll work out the details. Where we’ll live, when’s the wedding.”

His lips continued to move, so she would guess he was still talking. But she wasn’t listening.

The race. How could she have forgotten? This was all about the race. About being famous and important. About being the guy on the poster.

“I haven’t said I’ll marry you,” she pointed out.

“I know. When I win—”

“That’s what’s important, isn’t it? Winning. I don’t want to be with someone who has to be worshiped by millions, Josh. I want to be with a guy who wants me. Just me and our kids and maybe a dog.”

“I do want you. I’m not staying on the circuit. I just need to prove I’m worthy.”

What crap, she thought bitterly. “That’s just an excuse to be fawned over. Winning the race doesn’t matter to me.”

“It matters to me,” he told her. His jaw was set, his expression determined. “My mother left me because I was broken. She didn’t want to bother. Angelique left when I couldn’t race anymore.”

“I’m not either of them.”

“I want you to be proud of me.”

“I already am.”

“I need to be proud of myself.”

Which was the truth. This was about him and how he felt. She knew that. But would it end with one race? Could he hear the crowd and then walk away? No.

“I’ll win and then we can be together,” he said.

He was everything she’d ever wanted. The man she loved, the father of her unborn child. But he asked for the impossible.

“I won’t be with you if you race,” she said. “I don’t want to be with someone who needs to win to feel whole.”

The door next to them burst open. Pia stuck her head out. “Oh my God! They said yes. We’re getting the hospital. Isn’t that the best?”

“The best,” Charity whispered, knowing she had won and lost in equal measures that morning.

CHAPTER TWENTY

JOSH SAT AT THE BAR, sipping from his glass of water. It was three days before the race and he was in the best shape of his life. His carefully choreographed workouts had honed every muscle, tightened every reflex. He’d done the work—now all he needed was a little luck.

“For a guy on the verge of being a hero, you don’t look happy,” Jo said. “Want to talk about it?”

He shook his head and continued to stare at the bar.

Jo glanced around, as if making sure no one could hear, then leaned close. “You’ll do it, Josh. I’ve seen you practicing. You’ve been right in the middle of the pack and there hasn’t been a problem. You’re fine. You have to believe that.”

He slowly raised his head to stare at the woman across from him. Her eyes were soft with understanding.

“What did you say?” he asked.

“I know you were scared for a long time, but you did it. You figured out how to beat the fear. I don’t think I could have. To go through what you did? No way. But you’re the man.”

The impossible truth slammed into him. His mouth went dry. “You knew?”

“That you couldn’t ride anymore? Not counting those late-night rides you took all the time. That was dangerous. But I guess it was the only way you could get through it, right?”

He felt exposed and more than a little stupid. “You knew?” he repeated.

“Um, yes.”

He swallowed and straightened. “Let me guess. Everyone knew. Everyone in town.”

“Not everyone. Most people. We didn’t want to talk about it. You needed space to heal. It made sense.”

The past two years replayed in his mind. A montage of highlights, so to speak. He remembered how carefully he’d hidden his bike, how he’d ridden in the dark, too ashamed to be out in the light. How everyone had teased him about being out having sex, when they’d known exactly what he was doing.

He didn’t know if he should crawl under a rock or be grateful.

“You look confused,” Jo said.

“That’s one way of putting it.”

She smiled. “You’re one of us. We love you.” Her smile widened. “I’m speaking generally, of course. I don’t want Charity coming in and beating me up.”

“You think she could take you?”

“Love does interesting things to a woman. Gives her strength.”

Maybe, but he wasn’t sure Charity loved him as much as she claimed. She certainly didn’t understand him. Riding wasn’t about being the guy on the poster, as she claimed. It was about being himself. He had to do this—prove that he could. Then he could walk away and get on with his life.

A couple of guys finished up a pool game and walked through the bar.

“Good luck on Saturday, Josh,” they called as they left.

“Thanks.”

“You okay?” Jo asked.

He nodded.

When he’d been a kid, Fool’s Gold had taken him in. The town was still there for him, in ways he hadn’t even known about. He wanted to say he owed them, but it wasn’t like that. They were a family.

He wanted to stay here, to be here with Charity. He wanted to marry her. When the race was over, he would explain again, he promised himself. Somehow he would make her understand. He finally found the one woman he was meant to be with. No way he was letting her get away.

* * *

THE MORNING OF THE RACE dawned bright and hot. Charity busied herself in her room until she was supposed to meet Marsha, then made her way downstairs.

Mary, the woman at the front desk, waved. “You still flying from the hospital agreeing to build here?”

“It’s great news,” Charity said, doing her best to sound cheerful. “For all of us.”

“My little sister wants to be a nurse. She’s excited.”

“I’m glad.”

“You off to watch the race? Josh is so going to win.”

Charity smiled and kept walking. No, she wasn’t going to watch the race. She would be there at the beginning, because she was part of city government and she would be expected. But then she would leave. What was the point in staying?

Josh said he needed to win. She believed that. If he lost, he would keep trying. If he won, he would be sucked back into that world. She was just a regular person—how could she compete with the immortality of fame?

She walked more quickly, wanting to get to Marsha’s house before anyone else spoke to her. Nearly everyone in town was heading to line up along the race route. Thousands of visitors crowded the streets, so she didn’t have to do much more than smile and slip between milling groups.

“Quite the crowd,” Marsha said when Charity arrived. “Every hotel room is booked and the restaurants are full. It’s going to be a good weekend.”

“I’m glad,” Charity said, following her grandmother into her living room.

They’d arranged to meet and walk over to the start line together. But instead of getting her purse and pulling out keys, Marsha headed for the sofa. Charity saw several photo albums lined up on the coffee table.

“What are those?” she asked, pointing.

Marsha put her arm around Charity’s waist. “Just some old pictures. Don’t worry. This will only take a second.”

Charity settled on the sofa. “Are they of my mom?” she asked, not sure if she wanted to spend her morning looking at Sandra.

“Not exactly.” Marsha sat next to her and flipped open the first album. There were several pictures of a young boy on crutches.

Charity recognized Josh right away. He’d grown up, but his smile was still the same. Heartbreakingly appealing. Would their son or daughter have that smile?

“I remember the first time I saw him walk across the street,” Marsha said. “He moved so slowly. I could tell that every step hurt him, but he never complained. He couldn’t remember much about the fall and his mother didn’t talk about it.”

She turned the page, showing more pictures of Josh. In some he was with another boy, in a few, he was alone.

He was so physically perfect now that it was difficult to reconcile the adult with the child.

“He’s come a long way,” Charity said, aware of time passing.

How was Josh feeling in the hours before the race started? Tense? Confident? He’d worked the program and conquered his fears. Despite the fact that it would mean he would leave her, she found herself hoping he would win. It was what he wanted, and she loved him.

“His mother rented a room in a cheap motel. One of those horrible places with bugs and rooms by the hour. It’s since been torn down.” Marsha flipped another page. “He never brought a lunch to school or had any money to buy one. The principal told me how he would sit in a corner of the cafeteria, carefully not looking at any of the other students. He must have been starving.”

Charity’s own stomach tightened. “She didn’t feed him?”

“Not enough. We arranged for him to get a hot meal every day. That helped. He was bright and friendly. He enjoyed school, all the kids liked him. I made an appointment to talk to his mother. I told her I wanted to help. But when I showed up at the motel, she was gone. Josh was standing in the parking lot. He said she’d gone out to the store, but she would be back. He’d already been waiting for three days.”

Charity felt her eyes start to burn. This time she didn’t fight against the tears, mostly because ten-year-old Josh deserved them.

“How could she have done that?”

Marsha shrugged. “I can’t begin to understand her. You know what happened after that. The town took him in. He joined the Hendrix family and started riding a bike as part of his physical therapy.” She closed the album and looked at Charity.

“He’s never forgotten what happened. How his mother simply left him. He believes it’s because he wasn’t whole.”

Broken, Charity thought. He described himself as broken. Less than. As if anyone who really knew him could find him wanting in any way. But he wouldn’t believe that. And proving himself meant just what he’d said. Being worthy.

She stood and clutched her hands to her chest. “Oh no. He really does have to ride in the race, doesn’t he? It’s not about winning, although that would be nice. It’s about healing.”

“Not being broken,” Marsha agreed.

Charity brushed the lingering tears from her face. “I told him I wouldn’t be with him if he rode. I told him…” She covered her face. “Why was I so stupid?”

“A question people in love have been asking themselves for thousands of years.”

Despite everything Charity laughed. She lowered her arms. “Is this you trying to help?”

“Do you feel better?”

“I don’t know. Is it too late?”

“Do you really think an argument is enough to make Josh fall out of love with you?”

“No, but I made him feel bad. He has to race. Of course he does. He’s not going anywhere afterwards. Why couldn’t I see that?”

“Maybe you haven’t had anyone to believe in before.”

She hadn’t, Charity realized. Until now. “I believe in you,” she told her grandmother. “And I love you.”

Marsha smiled. “I love you, too. Now I think we have a race we need to get to.”

Charity nodded. They both hurried out of the house. There were throngs of people even on this quiet residential street. Marsha led the way, weaving through the crowds and slipping easily through clean, tidy alleys.

“Don’t worry,” her grandmother told her. “We have plenty of time. They can’t start the race without me.”

When they came out on the main road, they found themselves among a multitude of cycling enthusiasts.

Marsha turned and pointed. “The bike race starts over there. Put on your official ID and you can get right to the starting line.” She checked her watch. “You have five minutes before I make a few introductory remarks and Pia starts things.”

Charity hugged her. “Thank you so much.”

“You delight me, child. Now hurry.”

Charity pushed her way past families and couples, slipping into the tiniest openings, excusing herself when she bumped into someone. It was bright and hot. How did anyone ride a bike in weather like this?

She pushed and wiggled and darted her way through to the beginning of the race. Here the crowds were even thicker and there were barricades in place to keep everyone back. Probably so the line didn’t get covered with enthusiastic viewers.

Charity ran up to a deputy and smiled at the young woman as she showed her official ID. “Hi. I’m Charity Jones. I’m the—”

The deputy grinned. “I know who you are. You got the hospital to come here. They’re putting in a special children’s wing. My cousin has cancer. Not having to drive so far all the time is going to be great.”

“That’s great. Um, can you help me get through?”

“Sure.”

The deputy pulled back the barricade. Charity slipped through the opening and ran to the starting line.

There was an actual line on the street, along with TV cameras, reporters and photographers, and the athletes.

Charity saw Josh at once. She called his name, but the sound was lost in the crowd. She looked at all the racers, and knew she couldn’t simply walk into the middle of them and have a personal conversation.

The loudspeakers crackled, then she heard Marsha being introduced. There wasn’t much time.

She took a step onto the street. At that moment, Josh turned and saw her.

He was wearing sunglasses, so she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Before she could decide what to do, he was already weaving his bike through the other competitors and moving toward her. She hurried toward him.

“We don’t have much time,” she said, speaking quickly. “I know I’m distracting you, but I had to come and tell you I was wrong. I was wrong to tell you not to race, wrong to tell you I wouldn’t be with you if you did. I love you, Josh. This is who you are. If you really love me and want to be with me, then I’m the happiest, luckiest woman alive.”

He took off his sunglasses and she saw the love burning in his eyes. “You mean that?”

“Of course. I’ll go anywhere, just as long as we can be together.” She glanced toward the start line. “You’d better get ready to race.”

“What if I don’t win?” he asked.

“Then you’ll keep trying until you do.”

He bent down and kissed her. “I do love you, Charity.”

“I love you, too.”

He returned to the pack. She stepped back and seconds later a gun went off. The race had begun.

* * *

PIA JOINED CHARITY AS they watched as much of the race as they could. The sun rose in the sky, the day got warmer and Charity began to worry.

“Do you think he’s drinking enough?” she asked her friend. “It’s really hot.”

“He’s fine. He’s a trained athlete. Come have a taco. You’ll feel better.”

“I can’t eat while Josh is racing.”

“You think going hungry will help him?”

“Maybe.”

Pia sighed. “Save me from ever being in love. It makes people stupid.”

Charity grinned. “It’s worth it,” she promised.

“Like I believe that.”

When the course took the riders up the mountain, Charity and Pia went back toward the park to wait for the final leg of the race. Her ID got them in close to the finish line. She paced restlessly, wanting to know how Josh was doing, hoping he was kicking butt.

He needed this win, she thought, seeing the truth of it now. Not to have another trophy, but because he had something to prove to himself.

A gasp from the crowd told her that the lead riders had been spotted. Charity ran down to the edge of the street. She leaned as far forward as she could and watched.

A lone man on a bike rounded a corner. He was going as fast as the wind, pedaling easily, as if nothing about the race had bothered him. As if this was what he was born to do.

Even with him wearing a helmet and dark glasses, she recognized him and screamed his name.

His head came up.

She waved, laughing, waiting for him to go zooming past her. Instead he slowed, then came to stop right in front of her.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, as he put his foot on the asphalt. She pointed to the finish line, a scant hundred yards away. “Go.”

People around them started screaming. Josh ignored them all.

He pulled off his glasses. “How you doing?”

“Josh! This isn’t funny. Move.” She glanced over his shoulder, knowing the other racers would appear at any second. “Just finish. You can win. Then we’ll talk.”

“We can talk now.”

She shrieked. “No! I said I was wrong. I said I loved you. What more do you want?”

“You,” he said. “For always.”

“Yes, yes. You can have that. Now go. Cross the finish line. It’s right there. Can’t you see it? Hurry.”

“You’ll marry me?”

The man next to her turned. “For God’s sake, lady. Marry him already.”

“I’ll marry you,” she told Josh. “We’ll figure it out. Your racing career.”

“I don’t want to race, Charity. I meant what I said. I just needed to bury a few ghosts.”

She saw two riders round the corner.

“Go!” she yelled. “You have to go now.”

He slipped on his sunglasses. “You told me you didn’t care if I won.”

“I was wrong! I’ve said it five billion times. Now would you please go win this race so we can get on with our lives?”

“Sure.”

With that, he pushed off.

Charity didn’t even breathe as he picked up speed, then crossed the finish line with seconds to spare.

The crowd exploded into cheers and laughter. Charity tried to make her way to Josh, but there were too many people between them. So she waited while someone popped bottles of champagne and the reporters asked their questions. She watched Josh be the center of the universe.

Then she heard something strange. A few feet away a woman turned and yelled, “Where’s Charity? Pass it on.”

The man behind her called out the same thing and it continued until the man in front of her looked over his shoulder. “You Charity?”

She nodded.

“Got her,” he yelled. “Come on, honey. Get up there with Josh. He’s waiting for you.”

She was passed through the crowd until she found herself standing in front of Josh. He held a huge trophy in one hand and wrapped his other arm around her.

“Finally,” he said. He turned back to the reporters. “Okay, guys. Ask away.”

“Quite the comeback, Josh. You training for the Tour de France?”

“No. I’m done. This was a one-time race for me.” He kissed the top of Charity’s head, and held her closer. “My life is here.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and felt her love for him grow until she couldn’t contain it. “You can race if you want. We’ll work something out.”

He stared into her eyes and smiled. “No. I want to run the racing school and be with you. You’re my home, Charity. You’re where I belong.”

“I belong with you, too,” she told him.

“Which is really good, because I’m not letting you go.”

* * *

ETHAN HENDRIX WATCHED his best friend kiss the girl. It had taken Josh long enough, but he’d finally found what he’d always been looking for. Pleased, Ethan turned away to head back to his office.

Life was nothing if not interesting, he thought as he took a single step. Then something bright and red caught his eye. A color of hair he hadn’t seen in a long time.

He turned to get a second look. To be sure. Then he swore softly.

Liz was back.

ALMOST PERFECT

SUSAN MALLERY

CHAPTER ONE

LIZ SUTTON HAD ALWAYS KNOWN the past would come back and bite her in the butt—she just hadn’t known it was going to happen today.

Her morning had started normally enough, with getting her son on the bus to school, then going down the hall to her home office, where she wrote five fairly decent pages before stopping for some serious pacing, followed by deleting three of the last five pages. She was figuring out who to murder in the first chapter of her new book, not to mention how he or she would be murdered. Was decapitation just too predictable? Luckily her assistant knocked on her door, sparing her from making a decision.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Peggy said, frowning slightly as she held out a piece of paper. “But I thought you’d want to read this.”

Liz took the single sheet. It was an e-mail, sent to her Web site. There was a link there for fans to get in touch with her. Peggy handled most of the e-mails, but every now and then she found something she didn’t know what to do with.

“A crazed stalker type?” Liz asked, pathetically grateful for the interruption. When the writing was slow, even a death threat was more thrilling than the current work in progress.

“Not exactly. She says she’s your niece.”

Niece?

Liz scanned the sheet.

* * *

Dear Aunt Liz,

My name is Melissa Sutton. My dad is your brother Roy. I’m fourteen years old and my sister Abby is eleven. A few months ago, our dad went to prison. His new wife, our stepmom, said she would take care of us, but she changed her mind and left. I thought Abby and me would be fine. I’m really mature for my age. My teachers say that all the time.

She’s been gone a while now and I’m really scared. I haven’t told Abby because she’s still a kid, but I don’t know if we can make it. I don’t want to tell Dad what happened because he really liked Bettina and he’ll be sad she didn’t wait for him.

So I thought maybe you could help. I know we haven’t met before, but I’ve read all your books and I really like them.

Hope to hear from you soon. Your niece, Melissa.

P.S. I’m using the computer at the library, so you can’t e-mail me back. But here’s our phone number. Even though the lights are off, the phone still works at home.

P.P.S. We’re living in your old house in Fool’s Gold.

* * *

Liz read the e-mail a second time, trying to get the words to make sense. Roy was back in Fool’s Gold. Or at least he had been, before heading off to prison.

She hadn’t seen her brother in nearly eighteen years. He was a lot older and had left the summer she’d turned twelve. She’d never heard from him again. Apparently he’d married a couple of times and had kids. Daughters. Girls who were living alone in a house that had been run-down and disgusting twelve years ago. She doubted there had been many improvements since.

Questions tumbled through her brain. Questions about her brother and why he’d returned to Fool’s Gold after being gone so long. Why he was in prison and what on earth was she supposed to do with two nieces she’d never met?

She glanced at her watch. It was barely eleven. As it was Tyler’s last day before summer vacation, he was getting out at twelve-thirty. If she got the car packed in time, they could leave directly from his school and be in Fool’s Gold in about four hours.

“I need to deal with this,” Liz told her assistant, as she wrote an address on a piece of paper. “Call the electric company in Fool’s Gold and get the power turned back on. They should take a credit card for payment. Do the same with the other utilities. I’ll call the girls and let them know I’m coming.”

“Are they really your nieces?” Peggy asked.

“I guess. I haven’t seen my brother since I was their age, but I can’t let them stay there alone.” She shook her head, determining what else had to be done. Her next book wouldn’t be published until the fall, so she didn’t have to worry about publicity and book tours. She could work on her new story anywhere she had her laptop. At least that was the theory.

“I don’t know how long we’ll be gone,” she continued. “I’m guessing it will take a couple of weeks to get everything straightened out.”

Peggy stared at her. “Just like that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Aren’t you going to think about it? Most people would hesitate. You don’t even know these girls.”

True, Liz thought. But what choice did she have? “They’re kids, by themselves, and they’re family. I have to do something.”

“Which is just like you,” Peggy said. “You leap in and do what you think is right which is admirable. But not always smart.”

“Someone has to take care of this.” Besides, she’d grown up having to take care of things. Her mother hadn’t bothered. “With luck, I won’t be gone too long.”

“Don’t worry either way. I can handle things here.”

Liz forced a smile. “I know you can. I’m going to pack and then get Tyler. We’ll drive to Fool’s Gold today.”

“Maybe it will be nice to go home.”

Liz did her best to look normal. “Sure. Okay, I’ll call the girls.”

She waited until Peggy left before picking up the phone. She dialed the familiar number, then let it ring eight times before hanging up. No answer. Of course, it was a weekday. The girls were probably still in school. She would try again later, from her cell.

She had to pack for herself and her son, phone a few friends and let them know she would be gone for a couple weeks, e-mail her editor and agent to tell them the same. Logistics, she thought as she collected the notes she’d made on her current novel. She was good at logistics. The ability to plan and deal with problems was part of the reason she enjoyed writing her detective mystery series. She’d always been good at the work. It was the rest of life that caused her to stumble time after time.

“Introspection later,” she murmured aloud. “Action now.”

She powered off her laptop, then disconnected it from the docking station. After collecting her notes, a few pens, pads of paper and her address book, she went down the hall to her bedroom.

A little over an hour later, she’d packed what she hoped was enough, loaded the car and gone over everything with Peggy. Her assistant would take care of the house and make sure the bills were paid.

“Are you all right?” Peggy asked.

“Sure. Great. Why?”

Peggy, a forty-something former executive assistant, frowned. “Just checking. This is a lot to take in.” She hesitated. “You know if there’s no one else to take care of the girls…”

Liz might suddenly be responsible for two nieces she’d never met. “I know. I’ll deal with that when I have more information.”

“Mac and I went to Fool’s Gold on our honeymoon. Back when I thought marriage was a good thing. I didn’t know you were from there.”

No one did, Liz thought grimly. She found life easier when she didn’t talk about her past. “I left right after high school and moved here. San Francisco is my home now.”

Peggy smiled at her. “If you need anything, call me.”

“I will.”

Liz went downstairs to the single car garage and got into her Lexus. She’d packed four suitcases, a couple boxes with Tyler’s favorite movies, his Xbox and a handful of books. She went over the inventory because that was easier than thinking about what she was doing. Going back to the one place she never wanted to be. The town where she’d grown up.

For a second she wondered if she really had to do this. Go rescue a couple kids she’d never met. Then she shook off the thought. Right now there wasn’t anyone else. She couldn’t leave the two girls on their own. She would deal with the problem, get it resolved and return to her life. Staying was not an option.

Midday traffic was relatively light and she made it to Tyler’s school in about twenty minutes. He was talking to his friends, probably making plans for hanging out. When he saw her small SUV, he waved and hurried over.

“Jason says his family’s for sure going to Disneyland in August and they’re gonna call and talk to you about me going with them,” he said as he climbed into the passenger seat.

“Hello to you, too,” she greeted with a smile.

He grinned. “Hi, Mom. How was your day?”

“Interesting.”

“Great. Now can we talk about Disneyland?”

Her son was the brightest and best part of her life, she thought as she stared into his dark brown eyes. He had her smile, but everything else came from his father. As if her DNA hadn’t been strong enough to overpower his.

Tyler was smart, funny, warm and caring. He had dozens of friends, an easygoing disposition and plans to be an architect when he grew up. She knew that everyone said the early teen years were the worst with boys. That by thirteen or fourteen, he would be making her life hell. But that was a problem for another time. Today, Tyler was her world.

A world that had just been shifted off its axis and was tumbling freely through space.

“Disneyland sounds like fun,” she agreed. “I’ll talk to Jason’s mom. If they want to take you and you want to go, then we’ll arrange it.”

His grin widened. Then he glanced toward the back of the vehicle.

“Whoa, are we going somewhere? Road trip?”

She pulled into traffic, heading toward I-80. She would take it east, until she turned off to drive into Fool’s Gold.

“Sort of,” she said and tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

Over the years, she’d done her best not to lie to her son. Not about her past or his father. For the most part, she’d simply told him there were questions she wouldn’t answer. At four or five, he’d been easily distracted. At eight, he’d been determined to find out the truth. Now he asked less, probably because he knew he couldn’t wear her down. But she knew he wondered.

“I got an e-mail today,” she announced. “You remember I told you that I have a brother?”

“Uh-huh. Roy. We don’t ever see him.”

“I know. He’s a lot older and he left when I was twelve. I woke up one morning and he was gone. I never saw him again.”

She still remembered her mother’s sobs, made thicker and louder by the alcohol lingering in her system. From that moment on, her mother spent her life waiting for Roy to return. Nothing else had mattered, certainly not Liz.

Liz had left town shortly after graduating high school. She’d phoned home once, a few weeks later, saying she thought she should check in and tell her mother where she was.

“Don’t bother calling again,” had been the woman’s only response before hanging up the phone.

“So Uncle Roy e-mailed you?”

“Not exactly.” Liz didn’t know how much to reveal. Telling the truth was one thing, but sharing details was another. “He’s, um, in some trouble and I have to help. He has two girls. Your cousins. Melissa is fourteen and Abby is your age.”

“I have cousins? You didn’t tell me about cousins.”

“I didn’t know about them until today.”

“But they’re family.”

True enough, she thought. And the word family implied caring and connection. Maybe in most places, but not in the Sutton household. At least not until Liz had had Tyler. She’d done everything she could think of to break the cycle of neglect. She’d been determined to be a warm, loving mother, to offer her child a safe haven.

“I didn’t know where Roy was,” she said. “He never got in touch with me after he left.” For six years, she’d waited, hoping he would come get her and take her away. Until he’d walked out, he’d always taken care of her. Been a buffer between her and her mother. Protected her from the worst of it.

By the time she’d been old enough to go looking, she told herself she no longer cared.

“Do they know we’re coming?” Tyler asked. “Do they know about me?”

“Not yet, but they will. We’re going to stay with them for a couple of weeks.” She didn’t mention the fact that Roy was in prison. Time enough for that later. Nor did she discuss the possibility of the girls living with them permanently. Maybe other family could take care of them.

“I grew up in a small town called Fool’s Gold,” she said. “It’s in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains.”

“Do they get snow?” he asked eagerly. Because at age eleven, seeing snow was about the best it could be.

She laughed. “Probably not in June, but yes, they get snow. There’s lots to do there. Hiking, swimming. There’s a river and a lake.”

“We could go camping.”

She made a noncommittal noise in her throat, mostly because the thought of camping ranked right up there with being awake during open-heart surgery. Not even thinking about it was pleasant. But then she wasn’t an eleven-year-old boy. She hadn’t been fascinated by worms and dirt and play cars and plastic guns, either.

More traits she knew he got from his father. Which was another problem. Not the traits, the man himself. Odds were Ethan was still in Fool’s Gold. The one place he’d asked her not to be. He’d made it clear he didn’t want her or his kid around.

Well, he was just going to have to get over it, she told herself. This was an emergency. She wouldn’t make a big deal about Tyler being in town and she certainly wouldn’t tell her son about his father. Not when Ethan had rejected them both so completely.

She would deal with the girls and get out as quickly as possible. If she happened to run into Ethan, she would be pleasant and distant. Nothing more. Because after all this time and all the ways he’d managed to hurt her, there was no way she would ever be vulnerable to him again. She’d learned her lesson. Fool me once and all that.

She gripped the steering wheel tighter and glanced at her nav system screen. It showed the way to her destination and she was counting on the little device to guide her back home when she was done.

* * *

ETHAN HENDRIX STOOD BY THE barricades between the crowd and the cyclists. The sun was hot, the spectators loud. The noise of a race was specific and not something he would ever forget. There’d been a time when he’d planned on seeing the world on the racing circuit. A long time ago, he thought, remembering the feel of the wind, the sensation of muscles burning as he dug for the will to win.

Winning had come easily. Maybe too easily. He’d gotten careless during a race. At fifty miles an hour, balanced on skinny wheels and a lightweight frame, mistakes could be deadly. In his case, he’d been left with a few broken bones and a permanent limp. For anyone else, it would have been considered lucky. For him, the injury had kept him from ever racing again.

Now, ten years later, he watched the cyclists speed past. He spotted his friend Josh, still making up time from his late start, and wondered What if. But he didn’t have a whole lot of energy for the subject. Everything was different now and he was good with that.

He turned away from the race, ready to return to his office, when he spotted a woman in the crowd. For a second he thought he’d imagined her, that he was putting beautiful features he would never forget onto the face of someone else. There was no way Liz Sutton was back in Fool’s Gold.

Instinctively he moved closer, but the road with the barricades was between them. The redhead looked up again, this time facing him. She removed her sunglasses and he saw her wide green eyes, the full mouth. From this distance he couldn’t see the freckles on her nose, but he knew they were there. He even knew how many.

He swore softly. Liz was back. Except on the back cover of her books, he hadn’t seen her in over a decade. As of five seconds ago, he would have told anyone who asked that he’d forgotten her, had gotten over her. She was his past.

She looked away then, as if searching for someone. Obviously not him, he thought, then grinned. Liz back in Fool’s Gold. Who would have thought?

He eased his way through the crowd. He might not be able to find her now, but he had a feeling he knew where she would be later. He would meet her there and welcome her home. It was the least he could do.

* * *

LIZ KEPT A TIGHT HOLD ON Tyler’s hand on their way to the local grocery store. The crowd around the bike race was big and seemed to be growing. She’d been foolish to think she could find two girls she’d never met in the throng of tourists. It wasn’t as if she even knew what they looked like.

She pointed toward a vendor selling shaved iced and bought Tyler his favorite flavor. Blueberry.

All around them, groups of people laughed and talked about the race. She heard something about a new bike racing school and a new hospital being built. Changes, she thought. Fool’s Gold had changed in the past ten years.

But not enough for her to forget. Despite having to detour around blocked roads, she easily found her way down side streets, and back toward the house where she’d grown up.

“You lived here before you went to San Francisco?” Tyler asked.

“Uh-huh. I grew up here.”

“With my grandma Sutton?”

“Yes.”

“She’s dead now.”

He spoke the words as information, because that’s all they were to him. He’d never met Liz’s mother.

When Liz had first left town at eighteen, running away with a broken heart, she’d found her way to the city by the bay, had struggled to find work and a place to stay in a glorified shelter. Then she’d found out she was pregnant.

Her first instinct had been to go home, but that initial phone call had made her wary. Over the next year, she’d phoned home twice. Both times her mother had made it clear her daughter was no longer a part of her life. The rejection had hurt but hadn’t been much of a surprise. Her mother had also taken great delight in telling her that no, Ethan Hendrix never called or asked about her.

When the woman died four years ago, Liz hadn’t cried, though she felt regret over the relationship they never had.

Now, as she crossed a quiet street, she found herself in her old neighborhood. The houses were modest, two- and three-bedroom homes with small porches and aging paint. A few gleamed like bright flowers in an abandoned garden, as if the neighborhood was on the verge of being desirable again.

The worst house on the street sat in the middle. An eyesore of peeling paint and missing roof shingles. The yard was more weeds than plants or lawn, the windows were filthy. Plywood filled the space where one was missing.

She used the key she’d found under the front mat to let them in. She’d already done a brief tour of the house, to see if the girls were there. Judging from the school books piled on the dirty kitchen table and the clothes on the girls’ bedroom floors, she would guess summer break hadn’t started yet.

Now she walked through to the kitchen with tonight’s meal. Half the cabinets were gone, as if someone had started remodeling then changed his mind. The refrigerator worked, but was empty. There was no food in the pantry in the corner. There were a few potato chip wrappers in the trash and one small apple on the counter.

She didn’t know what to think. Based on her niece’s letter, the girls had been on their own for a few weeks. Ever since their stepmom had taken off. With their father in jail and no other family around, shouldn’t the state step in? Where were social services?

She had more questions, but figured she would deal with them later. It was after four. The girls should get home soon. Once they’d all met, she would get more food in the house and figure out what was going on.

“Mom?” Tyler called from the living room. “May I watch TV?”

“Until your cousins get here.”

Peggy had already called to confirm she’d paid all the amounts due on the utility bills and that everything should be working. Liz could see there was electricity. She turned on the faucet and water gushed out, which was a plus. Seconds later, she heard the sound of cartoons, which meant there was cable. Modern life as she knew it had been restored.

She walked back to the front of the house and took the stairs to the second floor. She made her way straight to the master. It was the only room with family photos. A wedding picture of a much older Roy standing next to a chubby blonde had been placed on the battered dresser. There were a couple of school pictures of the girls. Liz moved closer and studied them, looking for features that would be familiar.

Melissa seemed to have Roy’s smile. Abby had Liz’s eyes and freckles. They were both redheads, Melissa blessed with a soft auburn color. Abby was all carrot-top, which looked totally adorable. Although Liz had a feeling the eleven-year-old wouldn’t appreciate her unique coloring for a long time.

She turned away from the photos to look at the room. The bed was unmade, the dresser drawers open and empty. In the surprisingly large closet, only men’s clothes hung. A couple of boxes were filled with socks and underwear—most likely placed there by Roy’s wife.

Memories crowded around, filling the space. They poked at her as she moved back into the hallway, then into the bedroom that had been hers, making her remember things she’d tried so hard to forget.

She heard echoes of her mother yelling, inhaled the smell of alcohol. She remembered the low voices of the men who had come and gone. Most of her mother’s “friends” had stayed out of Liz’s way, but a few had watched her with an intensity that had made her uncomfortable.

She went into the room that had been hers. The wall color was different. The faded yellow had been replaced with a pale lavender. While the walls were freshly painted, the baseboards and trim had been sanded, but not finished. In the bathroom across the hall, the floor had been pulled up, exposing sheets of plywood below. She’d noticed a framed room off the back, sitting on a poured foundation. So many half-started projects that gave the already old and battered house the air of being wounded.

Easily changed, she told herself. A good contractor could have this place fixed in a few weeks. Or maybe the old house should simply be torn down and left for dead.

She shook off the morose thoughts. She’d been here all of an hour and already the place was getting to her. She had to remember she had a great life in San Francisco. Work she loved, a beautiful home, an amazing son. She’d left Fool’s Gold over a decade ago. She was a different person today. Older. Stronger. Able to deal with a few memories. It wasn’t as if she was settling here permanently. She would find out what was going on, then either take the girls to wherever they were going to live, or pack them up and bring them back to her place. A couple weeks, she told herself. Three at most.

She went downstairs and heard the sound of excited voices. There were racing footsteps on the porch, then the front door flew open.

Two girls stood there, the taller and older one looking both scared and relieved, while the younger hung back shyly.

“Aunt Liz?” Melissa, the fourteen-year-old, asked tentatively.

Liz smiled at them both and nodded. “Hi. I hope it’s okay that I let myself in. The key was right where—”

The rest of what she was going to say got squeezed out of her as both girls raced to her and hugged her hard, holding on as if they would never let go.

CHAPTER TWO

LIZ HUGGED THEM BACK, recognizing the relief and desperation in their embrace. They were too young to have been left on their own. What had Roy’s wife been thinking?

She mentally added that question to the growing list she would deal with later. For now she wanted the girls to feel safe and get them fed.

“You’re really here,” Melissa said, looking at her. “Really?”

“Yes. I got your e-mail this morning and came right away.”

Melissa, thin and nearly as tall as Liz, drew in a breath. “I’m really glad. I was trying so hard to make it okay, but I couldn’t. The money Bettina left us ran out really fast.”

Abby, a little shorter and also thin, bit her lower lip. “Are you our aunt?”

“I am. Your dad’s my brother.”

“You’re famous.”

Liz laughed. “Not really.”

“But you have books in the library. I’ve seen ’em.” Abby glanced at her sister. “I don’t read them because Melissa says they’ll give me bad dreams.”

Liz reached out and touched the girl’s cheek. “I think she’s right. But maybe when you’re older.”

“Or you could write a book for girls my age.”

“Something to think about.” She looked past the girls and saw Tyler standing in the doorway to the hall. “Girls, you have a cousin. My son Tyler is with me. Tyler, these are your cousins, Melissa and Abby.”

The girls turned. Tyler smiled.

“Hi,” he said, sounding more curious than uneasy.

“Hi,” the girls responded together.

“Tyler’s eleven,” Liz told them. “His last day of school was today.”

Melissa wrinkled her nose. “We have to go until Friday. Then we’re off for the summer.”

A fact that would make life easier, Liz thought. If she ended up taking the girls back to San Francisco, she wouldn’t have to worry about pulling them out of school.

Abby turned back to her. “Where’s Tyler’s dad, Aunt Liz?”

Not a question Liz wanted to deal with right now. She saw her son’s expression sharpen, as if hoping she would share some information. Not likely, she thought, wishing things had been different and Ethan had at least wanted to be a small part of his son’s life.

“Not with us,” Liz stated lightly. “Why don’t we go into the kitchen and get you two something to eat? I picked up a cooked chicken and some salads on the way into town. Then we’ll get to know each other a little and you can tell me what’s been going on.”

She had more to say, but both girls ran into the kitchen, as if desperate for food. Based on how they’d been living, they probably were.

She served them each a large portion of the chicken, along with coleslaw and potato salad.

The girls fell on the food, practically shoving it in their mouths. Liz poured the milk she’d bought and they gulped two glasses each. As she watched them devour the meal, she felt herself getting angry. How could Roy’s wife have simply abandoned the girls like that? What kind of heartless cow left two kids on their own? The least she could have done was phone social services on her way out of town.

She decided she would find out all she could about Bettina then kill off a character just like her in her next book. The death would be grisly, she promised herself. Slow and painful.

Tyler watched the girls wide-eyed, but didn’t say anything. He seemed to sense they’d been hungry for a long time, which was sad but probably a good lesson for him. Not everyone got to have three meals a day.

Liz took in their worn, not-very-clean T-shirts. Their jeans had seen better days, as well, and their sandals were in need of replacing. She knew most fourteen-year-old girls would be humiliated to be without stylish clothes and at least a hint of makeup. Was Melissa without both by choice?

When the feeding frenzy slowed, Liz settled across from Melissa. Tyler stood by Liz’s shoulder and she wrapped her arm around his waist.

“How long has Bettina been gone?” Liz asked.

“A while. Nearly three months. She left us with one hundred dollars. When that ran out…” Melissa dropped her gaze to her plate, then pushed it away.

Liz thought about the potato chip wrappers in the trash. The small apple on the counter. If there wasn’t any money and no one was taking care of them, there was only one way they could have survived. Melissa had been stealing from local stores.

“We’ll talk about that later,” Liz offered. “Privately. We can talk to the store owners and explain. I’ll pay them back.”

Melissa flushed, then swallowed. “I, um… Thanks, Aunt Liz.”

“How about just calling me Liz? Aunt Liz is too long.”

“Okay. Thanks, Liz.”

“Did your friends know Bettina was gone?”

Abby shook her head. “Melissa said not to tell. She said we’d be taken away and put in different homes. That we’d never find our way back to each other.”

“I wasn’t going to let them take Abby from me,” Melissa claimed fiercely, her green eyes flashing with determination.

An admirable sentiment, if slightly impractical when the alternative was starving. Of course Liz might be the wrong person to make a judgment on the issue. She’d adored her big brother and he’d taken off without a word, leaving her behind.

“A couple of my friends figured it out,” Melissa admitted. “They would bring us food sometimes. It’s been hard. I really thought I could take care of us both.”

“It’s a big responsibility,” Liz conceded. “You did the best you could, but the situation was impossible. I’m glad you e-mailed me.”

Abby grinned. “She’s read all your books, just like Dad. He has them all upstairs. Can we go see him?”

“Let me find out what’s going on first,” Liz explained, stalling for time. She didn’t even know where Roy was, let alone what he’d been convicted of or where he was incarcerated.

“Dad’s really proud of you,” Melissa told her shyly. “He talked about you all the time.”

Liz wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Roy’s pride hadn’t extended to getting in touch with her. As his daughters had proven, finding her wasn’t all that hard.

Abby raised her face to the ceiling. “The lights are on.” She grinned. “It won’t be dark anymore.”

“Everything’s back on,” Liz confirmed. “Even cable.”

Their eyes lit up. “We can watch TV?” Abby asked.

Tyler looked at Liz and grinned as if to point out he wasn’t the only kid who wanted to watch TV all the time.

“Not until your homework is done,” Tyler informed them. “And not every night.” He sighed heavily, as if his life was pain.

Liz laughed. “It’s true. I insist on reading nights every week, where we just sit quietly and read.”

“I like to read,” Melissa said. “But Dad and Bettina let us watch TV all the time.”

An issue she would address later, Liz thought. “If you two are done, why don’t you take your plates to the sink and rinse them? Then we can make a list and go to the grocery store.”

When they’d rinsed their plates, she sent Tyler to see if the upstairs bathroom had toilet paper and Abby out to the garage to check if there was any laundry detergent by the old washer. She and Melissa sat back at the table and started to make a list.

“We’ll get the basics,” Liz began. “But not too much. I’m not sure how long we’ll be here.”

Melissa frowned as she flipped her long hair over her shoulder. “We’re not leaving. I’m not going to let anyone separate me and Abby.”

Liz touched her arm. “I’m not suggesting anything like that. But you can’t stay here alone. You have to live with an adult or two. I’ll talk to your dad about the situation.”

“What about you?” Melissa stared at the table as she asked the question.

“I don’t know. If there’s other family, then we’ll have options to explore. If not, then you and Abby will be coming back to San Francisco with me.”

Melissa sprang to her feet. “No. We won’t go. We live here. In Fool’s Gold.” Tears filled her eyes.

Liz rose. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Everything is still new and we haven’t even gotten to know each other. Let’s not worry about anything more than today.”

“I won’t go. Neither will Abby.” Melissa looked defiant, despite the tears. “I mean it, Liz. You can’t make us.”

Liz knew that if she ended up with custody of the girls, she could and would, but there was no point in pushing hard now.

“I understand,” Liz assured calmly. “As I said, let me talk to your dad and figure out where we are. I won’t do anything without talking to you first. Can we put this on hold for a bit?”

Melissa looked as if she wanted to argue, but nodded slowly.

Liz took her seat and turned back to the list. “Shampoo and conditioner?” she asked.

Melissa sank into the chair across from her. “We’re out of them, too.”

Liz made a note. “You’ll have to show me what you like. What about makeup?”

It was a bribe, plain and simple, but she figured both she and Melissa had earned the break.

“I, ah, don’t wear that much, but I’d like to.”

Liz smiled. “We’ll get mascara and lip gloss when we go out, but later in the week, we’ll make a serious drugstore run and get some fun stuff to play with.”

Melissa leaned close. “Do you have highlights?”

Liz fingered her layered, wavy hair. It fell just past her shoulders—a length that allowed her to pull it back, put it up or go crazy with the hot rollers and have beauty pageant curls.

“A few. Our hair is about the same color. A bit of reddish gold adds dimension.” Liz shrugged. “You’re pretty without any help, but in a few years, you’ll be looking for more.”

Melissa flushed. “Abby hates her hair. It’s so red.”

“She’ll grow into it. When you’re young, it’s hard to be different.”

“That’s what my mom used to say.” Melissa pressed her lips together as she twisted her fingers. “She died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago. Abby doesn’t remember her.”

“But you do.”

Melissa nodded.

Liz wondered about the woman her brother had married and where he’d been all this time. When had he come back to Fool’s Gold? Had it been when their mother had died? Liz suspected she’d left the house to him. But how had anyone known how to get in touch with him? Unless he’d been in touch with their mother and she hadn’t known.

More questions for later, she told herself.

Tyler clattered down the stairs. “No toilet paper,” he announced. “And there isn’t soap in the shower.”

He sounded both shocked and delighted by the strangeness.

Abby returned to the kitchen to say there wasn’t any laundry detergent, either.

“I don’t know if my car’s big enough for all we’ll have to buy,” Liz teased brightly. “We may have to tie one of you on the roof of the car to make room.”

Abby looked a little startled, but Tyler laughed. “I’ll do it. Tie me on the roof, Mom.”

“Thank you for volunteering.”

Abby glanced between them, then smiled shyly, as if getting the joke. “You could tie me, too.”

“Why thank you,” Liz said, touching her cheek. “That’s very thoughtful of you. Okay—are we ready? I was thinking we’d have spaghetti for dinner. How does that sound?”

“My favorite,” Tyler yelled.

“Mine, too,” Abby said.

“With garlic bread?” Melissa asked.

“It wouldn’t be spaghetti if there wasn’t garlic bread,” Liz told her.

Melissa grinned.

* * *

ONE SHOPPING TRIP, A DINNER and shared kitchen cleanup later, Liz supervised the kids settling in for the evening. Melissa had one last assignment for school, while Abby and Tyler sat on the sofa downstairs to watch a movie.

Liz poured herself a second glass of wine, then carried it out front. While her nieces were great, the situation was intense and she felt the need to be alone for a few minutes.

She walked to the edge of the porch and sat with her feet on the second step. The night was clear, the stars much bigger and closer than they appeared in San Francisco. Here there weren’t big city lights to dilute the heavens. She could make out the mountains to the east, rising miles into the sky. The very tops seemed to almost brush the twinkling stars.

The sound of the movie carried to her, a safe sound. Abby and Melissa were good kids dealing with an impossible situation. Her anger at the absent Bettina grew every second. How could an adult simply walk away from two girls like that? Even if she didn’t want them herself, she could have done something to make sure they were taken care of.

Part of Liz wanted to call the police and report the woman, but she wouldn’t. Not until everything was straightened out. Getting social services involved at this point was a complication no one needed. Besides, she wanted to talk to Roy first.

At dinner Melissa had mentioned her father was at Folsom. Despite the fact that Johnny Cash had made the place famous with a song, the facility was old and very much a prison. Liz had researched the prison for one of her books. She still had several contacts there which would mean getting in to see her brother would be relatively easy.

But knowing that didn’t make the idea of seeing him after all this time anymore comfortable. What was she supposed to say?

She shook off the question and returned her attention to the beautiful night. That was easier than thinking about the past, or hey, even the present. After all this time, she was back in Fool’s Gold. Who would have thought?

The grocery shopping had been uneventful. Only one shopper had recognized her enough to call her by name. The older woman hadn’t been the least bit familiar to Liz, but she remembered enough of small-town life to pretend to be delighted at the meeting. The woman had commented on how nice it was that she’d come back for Roy’s girls.

An innocent comment, Liz thought as she sipped her wine. There was no reason for her to want to snap at the other woman, ask her how it was possible that an entire town hadn’t noticed two girls living on their own. Of course this was the same town that had seen plenty of bruises on her arms and legs and no one had asked any questions back then, either.

“Don’t go there,” she whispered. She was here to help Roy’s girls and get out as quickly as possible. Nothing else.

She heard someone walking on the sidewalk. Instinctively, she stiffened before reminding herself that this was Fool’s Gold, and no one ever got mugged here. She looked up to see a man walking by. Only he didn’t keep walking. He stopped at her front gate and let himself in. The wineglass nearly slipped from her fingers as she watched Ethan Hendrix stroll toward her.

“Hello, Liz.”

He was as tall and handsome as she’d remembered. Broader and a little older, but only in that good way men age. It was too dark for her to make out his exact features, but if she had to guess, she would say he was happy to see her. At least he was smiling.

She blinked, not sure he was real, but the image didn’t go away, which was confusing. Why would Ethan be pleased she was back in town?

She clutched her wine in both hands. Standing up made the most sense and was also polite, but she wasn’t sure she could manage it. Her legs felt a little wobbly as she stared at the first man she’d ever loved. If she’d had another glass of wine, she probably would have admitted he was the only man she’d ever loved, but why go there now?

“Ethan,” she said, startled to have his name on her lips after all this time. She’d yelled at him, cursed him, cried for him and begged—but only in her mind. In the past twelve years, she’d never once spoken his name. Except once…to his wife.

“I thought I saw you earlier,” he revealed, moving closer and shoving his hands in his front pockets, a smile tugging at his lips. “At the race. I tried to get to you, but there was too much of a crowd. You’re back.” The smile turned into a grin. “You look good.”

She looked what?

Gathering all her strength, she set the glass on the porch, then pushed to her feet. After crossing her arms over her chest, she realized she still had to tilt her head slightly to meet his gaze. Time had not caused him to shrink.

“It’s not what you think,” she began. “I’m not here to make trouble.”

Confusion flickered across his face. “Why would you be?”

“I’m here because of my brother and his daughters. This isn’t about anything between us.”

The grin faded into a straight line. “About that,” he reflected, then shrugged. “I was a kid and a jerk. I’m sorry.”

As apologies went, it wasn’t much of one. Not when compared to his incredible rejection of both her and their son, but Ethan had never been big on accepting responsibility for his relationships.

For him, it was all about how things looked. After all, he was a Hendrix. A member of the founding family. Upholder of all things good and right. A girl from the wrong side of the tracks was good enough to sleep with, but a guy like Ethan would never want anything more.

“Whatever,” she muttered. “I didn’t know my brother had moved back and I didn’t know about his daughters. Until Melissa wrote me. That’s why I’m here. It’ll be two weeks. Three at most. I’ll stay out of your way, just like you asked.” Commanded was more like it, but this didn’t seem like a good time to bring that up. She was tired and dealing with too much already. A fight with Ethan would only complicate the situation.

She shook her head, her temper rising just a little. “But I will point out you don’t own the town, and you don’t have any right to tell me where I can or can’t be.”

“I know,” he said, moving a step toward her. “Would it help if I said I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

The lazy smile returned. The one that always had the ability to make her stomach flip over a couple dozen times.

“I wanted to welcome you back,” he continued. “And tell you I think it’s great you’ve been successful with your books. Even though I’m not sure I like the part where you kill me over and over again.”

Now he wasn’t the only one who was confused, she thought. He wanted to talk about her books?

“You deserved it,” she retorted. “And technically I haven’t killed you at all.”

“Then why do your victims always have a more than passing resemblance to me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Which was a lie.

“Right.”

The smile left again as he took another step toward her. A step that put him a little too close.

“Eleven years ago I was a jerk,” he said. “I admit it and I’m sorry. That’s what I came by to say.”

“What?” She dropped her hands to her hips and glared at him. “That’s it? After everything that happened the last time I came to town you want to talk about that?”

His eyebrows drew together. “What last time?”

“Five years ago, I came back to speak to you. Instead I had a very awkward conversation with your wife. You were out of town. Then I received your letter a few days later.”

The frown deepened. “What?”

She wanted to shriek. “I came here to talk to you. To tell you about Tyler. I saw Rayanne, who said you were out of town. About ten days later, I got a letter from you telling me you didn’t want anything to do with either of us. To stay away from Fool’s Gold and that if I came back, you’d make sure I regretted it.”

The frown turned into an expression of dismissal. “I accept that what I did all those years ago was stupid and mean, and I’m sorry. As for this crap—don’t bring my wife into your stories.”

She stiffened. “Stories? You think I’m lying? I spoke to your wife five years ago. You wrote me a letter. I still have it.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t write you a letter. You didn’t see—” He hesitated. “I don’t know if you saw Rayanne or not. I could have been traveling. I saw you in town earlier today, so I came by to say hello and apologize. That’s it.” His gaze sharpened. “Who’s Tyler? Your husband? You’re married?”

Oh, God. Liz sank back on the step. Thoughts and memories flooded her, making it impossible to pick just one. The early past intruded first—reminding her how much she’d once loved Ethan. How he’d convinced her to trust him, had told her that he loved her. She’d given herself to him on a starry night, by the lake. Desperate emotion hadn’t been enough to make her first time not hurt, and he’d held her when she had cried.

They’d planned on her joining him at his college, because being together in Fool’s Gold was impossible. Not that his family was especially rich, but because they were respectable. Something Liz Sutton could never be.

She remembered him and his friends at the diner where she worked after school. How his friend Josh had mentioned seeing Ethan with her. As clearly as if it was happening right now, in front of her, she recalled Ethan’s discomfort. He’d said she was a piece of ass—but not anyone he could be interested in. He’d denied her, had denied them. She’d heard every word.

Maybe if she’d been older she would have understood why he’d said what he did. Or if he’d been more mature or stronger, he could have stood up to his friends. Instead he had hurt her and she’d reacted. She’d walked over to the table, picked up the chocolate milk shake she’d brought him only minutes before and thrown it in his face. Then she’d walked out. She’d quit her job, packed a bag and run away to San Francisco.

Three weeks later, she’d figured out she was pregnant.

She’d returned to town, prepared to tell Ethan, only to find him in bed with someone else. She’d run again. This time she’d been determined to make it on her own. But five years ago, as Tyler had been getting ready to enter first grade, she’d decided to make another attempt to tell Ethan. Which had led to the conversation with his wife and the letter telling her that he didn’t want anything to do with her and his son.

None of this made sense, she thought. Ethan was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. He wouldn’t just forget about his own child. Unless he really hadn’t been told. Which meant his wife had kept the information of Liz’s visit from him.

“Liz?” His voice was low. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” She pushed to her feet. “At the risk of repeating myself, Rayanne never told you that I came to see you?”

“That’s right.”

“You never wrote me a letter.”

“No.”

“So you don’t know about any of this?”

“Any of what?” he asked.

She sucked in a breath. She’d known there was a good chance she would run into Ethan again. Or his wife. Or both. But she’d never imagined anything like this.

“I came back to see you five years ago,” she began. “No, I came back a few weeks after I left, but you were in bed with Pia.”

“What?” He stiffened. “I didn’t…” He half turned away, then faced her again. “It’s not what you think.”

“I thought you were both naked and in bed,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even. “It doesn’t matter. Screwing around with Pia isn’t the point.”

“I didn’t screw around.”

“No? Then your intense and meaningful relationship isn’t the point, either. I came back to tell you that I was pregnant. When I saw you in bed with Pia, I took off. I was too hurt, too angry. You’d denied me in public and then slept with one of the girls who delighted in tormenting me.”

She squared her shoulders. “More irrelevance, right? The point is, I always wanted you to know. So I showed up here five years ago to tell you about Tyler. I spoke to Rayanne and told her. Then I got a letter from you saying you didn’t want anything to do with me or Tyler and to stay away from town.” A letter apparently written by Rayanne.

Ethan stared at her as if he’d never seen her before. Emotions flashed across his face. Disbelief, confusion, anger.

“Tyler isn’t your husband?”

“He’s my son. Your son. He’s eleven. And he’s here.”

CHAPTER THREE

ETHAN HEARD THE WORDS BUT THEY made no sense to him. Son? As in a kid? An eleven-year-old boy who was his?

“You never told me.”

The words came from him, although he couldn’t feel himself speaking. He was still trying to make sense of the information. A baby? No. Not a baby. A child. His child.

“I did tell you,” Liz reiterated, putting her hands back on her hips, looking as if she was prepared to take him on. “I just explained that. I’ll admit I didn’t make much of an effort when I came back the first time, but the whole naked-in-bed-with-Pia was more than I could handle. I came back a second time.”

“Stop.” He glared at her, anger growing. “You’re lying.”

“I told you—I still have the letter. I can have my assistant send it overnight. It will be here day after tomorrow.”

He knew there wasn’t a letter, mostly because he’d never written one.

He turned and walked back to the gate, before facing the house again. Liz stood silhouetted in the glare of the porch light. He’d been so damned happy to see her. He’d wanted to come talk to her. Now this.

“How the hell can you stand there and tell me I have an eleven-year-old son I’ve never known about?” He stalked toward her, fury growing. “You didn’t bother to tell me that you were pregnant? What gives you the right?” He swore.

“I did try to tell you,” she countered. “You were too busy screwing Pia.”

He grabbed her arm. “I don’t care if I was burning down the entire town. You were pregnant with my child, and I had the right to know.”

She jerked free. He let her, mostly because of how he’d been raised. It was the right thing to do.

“I cared,” she snapped. “I cared a lot. You were supposed to love me. You convinced me it was safe to love you back. You took my virginity, then let someone call me a whore in front of all your friends.”

“None of that matters.”

“Of course it matters. It speaks to who you are as a person. It’s the reason I didn’t try very hard.”

The unfairness of the accusation burned. “I was a kid,” he growled.

“So was I. Eighteen, alone and pregnant. If you expect a break, then I get one, too.”

“No. It’s not the same. He’s my child. You deliberately kept us apart for years.”

Liz drew in a breath and nodded slowly. “I know. That’s why I came back to tell you five years ago.”

He didn’t believe the bullshit story about talking to Rayanne. He didn’t care about anything except he had a son.

He pushed past her and headed for the door. “I want to see him.”

“No!” Liz grabbed his arm and held on with both hands. “Ethan, wait. Not like this. You can’t just walk in there and blurt it all out. He’s only eleven. You’ll scare him.”

He could have kept walking. She didn’t have the physical strength to stop him, but as her words filtered through the haze of anger and resentment, he recognized that something—or someone—was more important than both of them.

Tyler.

He stopped.

She released him, then came around so they were facing each other again. “I’m shocked, too. And sorry about all of this. I swear I thought you knew.”

“I want to meet him.”

“I agree. But we need a plan. He has to be prepared.”

He narrowed his gaze. “You lost your right to decide what happens the day you chose to keep him from me.”

She raised her chin. “That’s where you’re wrong. This isn’t a game. We’re talking about a child’s life. As for rights, I’m his mother and you’re not on his birth certificate.”

He’d never wanted to hit a woman before. Never wanted to punish one. Intense rage grew until it nearly overwhelmed him.

“I’m not saying I don’t want you to have a relationship with him,” she continued. “I do. That’s why I came back before. Of course I want that. I’m pissed, too. You said you loved me and yet you never bothered to look for me when I ran away. Based on what I saw with Pia, did you even miss me at all?”

“What does that matter?” He swore again, then took a step back. “You stole eleven years from me, Liz. Stole time and memories I can never get back. Do you really think hurt feelings from high school come close to measuring up to that?”

“I’ll accept responsibility for the first few years,” she told him. “But not the last five. Why do you refuse to believe me? I was here. I spoke to Rayanne. I’ll show you the letter as soon as it gets here. In the meantime, go talk to your wife.”

He stared at her. Of course. She wouldn’t know. “Rayanne is dead.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, God. I’m sorry.”

He glanced up at the house, wanting nothing more than to break in and take what was his. He might loathe Liz with every part of him, but she was right about one thing—Tyler was the only one who mattered in this situation. Bursting in and grabbing him would only terrify the kid. Ethan wanted a better start than that.

Not that he should have to worry about that, he thought grimly. If he’d known about Tyler, he would have been there from the beginning. Been a father.

“I’ll be by tomorrow after work,” he said quietly. “I want to meet him then.” He met her gaze. “No excuses.”

She nodded. “I’ll tell him tomorrow, prepare him.”

“Going to make me an asshole?”

“Of course not.”

“What have you told him before now?”

“Nothing. I wouldn’t lie to him. I told him there were things I wouldn’t talk about. He doesn’t always like that answer, but he accepts it.”

Because he didn’t have a choice, Ethan thought, still fighting fury. Liz had controlled the situation, done whatever she wanted. Well, that was about to change. He would make sure of it.

“You’ll be here?” he asked, not putting it past her to leave town. What was different was this time he would follow, chasing her to the ends of the earth, if necessary. She’d already stolen too much from him.

“I’ll be here,” she said. “I swear.”

He gave a hollow laugh. “Because your word means something?”

She dug in her jeans front pocket and pulled out her car keys. “Want to hang on to these? Will that make you feel better?”

It might, but it wasn’t necessary. “I have your license number. If you try to sneak away, I’ll have you hauled back for kidnapping.”

An empty threat. If she was telling the truth—if he really wasn’t on Tyler’s birth certificate—then his rights were probably limited. But if she pushed him, he would do everything in his power to make it happen. Tyler was his son—and Ethan took care of what was his.

A voice in the back of his head whispered if he’d been as willing to claim Liz, none of this would have happened. He would have known about Tyler from the beginning.

A fact that might be true, he told himself, but didn’t erase what she’d done.

“Ethan, please.” She gazed into his eyes. “We have to work together. Make this right for Tyler.”

“I agree, but don’t expect me to ever understand or forgive you, Liz. You played God with my life and my son’s life. I hope there’s a special place in hell for you.”

She flinched as if he’d hit her. He didn’t care. Instead he walked toward the sidewalk, stopping when he reached the gate. “I’ll be back tomorrow at six. Don’t make things worse than they are.”

And then he was gone.

* * *

LIZ REACHED FOR HER COFFEE. She usually tried to limit herself to one or two cups a day, but after a sleepless night, she had a feeling she was going to exceed her limit before noon.

She’d been an idiot. She accepted that. What she really didn’t like was the reality that she’d been thoughtless and cruel—characteristics she would have claimed weren’t a part of who she was.

Ethan’s parting shot—that she’d played God with both him and her son—had been a direct hit. One she’d been unable to forget. Guilt was powerful. Despite the fact that she’d come back to tell him everything five years ago, he’d still lost the first six years of Tyler’s life.

The time couldn’t be made up, as he’d said more than once. And she regretted that. But now everything was worse. Apparently Rayanne hadn’t told Ethan about Liz coming to town at all. There hadn’t been a second rejection, this time of both her and her son. Not that it mattered. Ethan obviously didn’t believe her. Still, she would call Peggy and have the letter sent overnight. An easy solution to only part of the problem. If only she could explain away the first six years as easily.

She heard footsteps on the stairs and got the milk out of the refrigerator. She’d already put a couple boxes of cereal on the table, along with bowls and spoons.

Melissa entered the kitchen first, her jeans and T-shirt clean from the loads of laundry Liz had finished the evening before, her hair shiny and bouncy. She moved to the table.

“Good morning,” Liz said, forcing herself to smile. Her trouble with Ethan had nothing to do with the girls.

“Hi.” Melissa moved to the table but didn’t sit down. “You’re still here.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Melissa shrugged as she pulled out a chair. “You didn’t sleep upstairs. In my dad’s room.”

The thought of sleeping in the same bed as her brother and her mother before him had totally creeped her out. Which wasn’t the point. Obviously Melissa had gotten up to check on her.

“Sometimes I like to work at night,” she detailed, which was true but not the reason she’d chosen the sofa in the living room over the bed in the master bedroom. “Being downstairs seemed easier.”

“I thought you’d left.”

Melissa didn’t look at her as she spoke.

Liz crossed to her and put her hand on the teenager’s shoulders. “I’m not abandoning you or Abby. I know it’s going to take a while for you to believe me, but you can trust me.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it,” Liz declared firmly. “We’re going to figure this out together. You don’t have a cell phone, do you?”

Melissa shook her head.

“We’ll get you one after school and program my number in. Then you can always get me. Would that help?”

Melissa brightened. “I’d be able to call my friends, right?”

“Yes.”

“And text?”

Liz smiled. “As long as you promise to stop before your thumbs fall off.”

“I can do that.” The teen pulled a box of breakfast cereal toward her.

“Then we have a deal.”

Abby burst into the room and ran over to Liz, then hugged her. “Do I have to go to school?”

“Yes. You have, what? Three days left? You’ll survive.”

Abby grinned. “I knew you’d say that.”

“But you thought you’d ask anyway?”

“Uh-huh.”

The girl sat across from her sister and reached for the cereal.

It didn’t take either of them long to eat breakfast. After they put their bowls in the sink, Liz reached for her purse. “We didn’t get anything for lunch, so do you mind buying?”

The sisters looked at each other, then laughed.

“We can buy lunch,” Melissa agreed happily. “That would be, like, totally great.”

Liz wondered how long they’d been going without lunch. Couldn’t they have gone into a free lunch program? Of course that would have meant someone knowing there was a problem in the first place.

She handed them each ten dollars, then walked them out to the gate. They waved and promised to be home right after school.

“We can bake cookies before dinner,” she yelled after them.

When they’d turned the corner, she headed back into the house and made a note of the cell phone errand and started a second grocery list that included ingredients for chocolate chip cookies. Once that was done, she called Peggy to have her overnight Ethan’s letter, along with some notes she’d left behind.

When she hung up, there was plenty of thunking from upstairs, telling her Tyler was up and making his way to the shower. She paced nervously until he came downstairs and she was forced to act normal, then she chatted with him through his breakfast.

“I thought we’d make cookies later,” she told him, as he finished up his cereal. “When your cousins get home from school.”

He grinned. “Sweet.”

“Is that about the cookies, or the fact that they still have school and you don’t?”

He laughed. “Both.”

He got up and carried his bowl to the sink. After rinsing it, he looked for a dishwasher, then frowned when he didn’t find one.

“What am I supposed to do with it?” he asked.

“Stack it in the sink,” she instructed, thinking if this were a made-for-TV moment, she would be smoking and looking for her morning shot of Jack Daniels. “We’re going to be washing dishes the old-fashioned way. By hand.”

He looked confused, as if the concept was impossible to imagine. Liz agreed with him, but wasn’t willing to buy one for the few weeks they would be in town. At least there was a microwave. A true necessity, she thought. Popcorn was required for movie night.

“What are we going to do today?” he asked, returning to the table.

“I thought we’d take a walk through town,” she offered, studying his familiar features and wondering if anyone who saw him would guess the truth. To her he looked exactly like Ethan, but that could just be because she was looking for certain features. “Then you can play Xbox while I work.”

His dark eyes crinkled. “I love summer vacation.”

“I’m sure you do. But you aren’t going to spend three months getting great at your favorite game.” Once they were back in San Francisco, there would be classes and a couple of weeks at camp. Maybe there was a day program here she could get him in. And the girls, too, she thought. Although Melissa might be too old.

“How about two months?” Tyler suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. “And twenty-nine days.”

“Unlikely.” She drew in a breath and wished he was next to her so she could hold him tight. Because as soon as she said the words, everything was going to change. She knew that. The truth would change everything and they would never go back.

“I have to talk to you about something,” she said, then added, “It’s not bad.”

“Okay.”

He waited patiently, trusting her. Because she’d never lied to him, had never let him down. She annoyed him because she was the mom and there were rules, but that was different. Expected.

“You’ve asked me about your dad a lot,” she began. “And I would never talk about him.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I know.”

“I’m ready to talk about him now.”

Tyler had been leaning back in the kitchen chair. But then he sat up and stretched his arms toward her, his expression expectant. “My dad?”

She nodded. “He’s, um, he’s a good guy. A contractor. That’s someone who builds things, like houses and—”

Tyler sighed heavily. “I know what a contractor is, Mom.”

“Oh. Of course you do. Well, he’s a contractor and he also builds windmills. The kind that generate electricity.”

“Wind turbines.”

“What?”

Tyler looked a little smug. “They’re called wind turbines.”

“Thank you.” She shifted in her seat, wishing she didn’t have to tell him and that everything could stay the same. Only that was selfish. Tyler deserved to know his dad and Ethan…well, he deserved to know his son, too.

“He lives here. In Fool’s Gold. You’re going to be meeting him tonight.”

Tyler was out of the chair faster than light. He raced toward her, then threw himself at her and held on tight. “I’m meeting my dad? For real?”

“Yes. I saw him last night and he wants to meet you.”

Tyler stared into her eyes. “Tonight?”

“At six.”

An awkward time, she thought. They either had to eat really early or really late. Not that she would be in the mood for food and Tyler would probably be too excited, but the girls needed dinner.

She would make them something at five, she thought absently, pulling the shopping list toward her.

“My dad’s coming here?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You really saw him and everything?”

She hugged him, wishing she could hold on tight forever. “I did.” She smoothed back his hair, then stared into his dark eyes. “Stuff with grown-ups gets complicated sometimes. I came back to talk to him about you when you were six. He wasn’t here. He was away on business. So I told someone else about you and she promised to tell him, only she didn’t.”

That much was clear. Ethan had been beyond stunned by the news.

“She lied?” Tyler sounded shocked. He was still young enough that he believed most adults told the truth.

“She kept the truth to herself, which is pretty much the same thing. I thought he didn’t want anything to do with us, but I was wrong. He’s very excited to see you.”

Tyler’s eyes widened with hope. “You think he’ll like me?”

“I think he’ll adore you.” She touched his cheek. “You look a lot like him. The dark hair and eyes.”

“But I have your smile.”

“Yes, you do and I want it back.” She leaned in and tickled him.

He laughed at that as much as at the familiar and silly joke.

He leaned against her. “I wish I was still in school so I could tell everyone I have a dad, too.”

“You’ll tell them in September.”

“Do you think Dad will come live with us in San Francisco?”

If she’d been standing she would have fallen on the spot. “Gee, ah, probably not. Your dad’s life is here, in Fool’s Gold. He has a big family. I don’t know who still lives here. Probably his mom and I would guess a few of his sisters.”

Tyler stared up at her. “There’s more?”

There was an entire herd, she thought grimly. Because Ethan’s relatives were also Tyler’s. The thought made her a little nervous. How could she compete with an entire family? Not that it was a competition, she reminded herself. But still…

“You have two uncles, three aunts, who are triplets by the way, and a grandmother.”

“Cool!”

“I know,” she said with false excitement. “You’ll have so much family, you won’t know what to do with everyone.”

“Anyone my age?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t know for sure. You can ask your dad.”

There could be dozens, she reminded herself. Any of his siblings could have married. Ethan might have children from his marriage to Rayanne, although they would be younger.

She shook her head to force out the thought of her encounter with his late wife. There was enough going on without that messing with her mind.

Tyler spun away and pumped his arms. “This is the best, Mom. I have a dad. We’re a family.”

They were a lot of things, but Liz didn’t think family qualified. Not with how much Ethan hated her.

“It’s going to be interesting,” she admitted. Perhaps not in a happy way, but that wasn’t Tyler’s problem.

“May I use the computer so I can send an e-mail to Jason?”

She nodded.

He ran out of the room. Seconds later, she heard the loud thundering of his steps on the old and creaking stairs.

At eleven, life was simple. A new dad was a great thing. There weren’t any complications, no ambivalence, no worries about the future. While she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about everything that could go wrong.

“Probably the reason I write what I do,” she murmured as she rose and walked to the sink to tackle the morning dishes. Some days murder and mayhem suited her mood. She would work out her frustrations on a deserving victim, then have her character find justice in the end.

But this wasn’t fiction—this was real life. And she had a feeling things weren’t going to be tidied up quite so easily for her.

CHAPTER FOUR

ETHAN DID HIS BEST TO WORK BUT by ten in the morning he’d given up on the pretense. He wasn’t fooling anyone, especially not himself. His sister Nevada had asked him twice if everything was all right. He’d told her that he was fine, but after spending twenty minutes doubling an order for lumber, only to realize it was for a job they’d completed two weeks ago, he knew he had to get out and clear his head.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” he yelled over his shoulder as he left the office.

“Don’t hurry back,” Nevada muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

Normally he would have gone inside and called her on it, but not today. Not when he was still having trouble wrapping his mind around what had happened the night before.

He had a son, he thought, getting in his truck and starting the engine. A child. For eleven years and he’d never once known or imagined or guessed. All because Liz Sutton had kept the truth from him. Deliberately.

The rage that had poured through him the night before ignited again, burning hot and bright. He forced himself to focus on his driving, to pay attention to little things like stop signs and other traffic, as he steered the truck through town.

Rather than go to his place, he went back to the house where he’d grown up. If anyone could talk him down, it was his mother. Denise Hendrix had raised six kids, surviving the loss of her husband, Ralph, nearly a decade ago. She was the heart of the family, the one everyone turned to when there was a problem. She was rational, thoughtful and would be able to give him a perspective other than his own. Because right now all he wanted was to take his son and bolt.

Not a smart plan, he told himself as he drove through the familiar neighborhood, then turned into the driveway.

He checked the clock on the dashboard of his truck. With all six kids out of the house, his mother had a lot more free time these days. Time she filled with classes and her friends. If he remembered correctly, his mother should be between the gym and whatever lunch date she might have lined up.

He crossed to the front door, but it opened before he could knock.

“I saw you drive up,” his mother said with a smile, looking fit in a T-shirt and flared cropped pants. Her feet were bare, her toes painted pink. Although she’d always worn her hair long, a few years ago, she’d cut it off and every time he saw her, it was shorter still. Now it barely came to the bottom of her ears.

“Hey, Mom,” he greeted, bending down and kissing her cheek. “You going to get your head shaved next?”

“If that’s what I want,” she declared, stepping back so he could enter. “I’m working out more and short hair is easier. Today was my yoga class. I seem to be missing the bendy gene. I swear, the positions some of the women get in defy me. I push, but I can’t help thinking that at some point, I’ll simply snap a bone. I’m at that age, you know. Shrinking and brittle.”

“Hardly.”

Denise was in her early fifties and could easily pass for ten years younger. Despite the years she’d been alone, she’d never dated. Intellectually he knew it would be nice for her to find someone. But speaking as the oldest son and the one responsible for her, it wasn’t anything he wanted to deal with. Beating up some old guy for making moves on his mother wasn’t Ethan’s idea of a good time.

“Sweet of you to say so.” She studied him for a second, her dark eyes seeing more than most people’s. “What’s wrong?”

“Maybe I came by just to see you.”

“This time of the morning, midweek? I don’t think so. Besides, I can tell. What is it?”

She moved to the kitchen as she spoke and he followed automatically. Everything big was discussed in the kitchen. All revelations, celebrations, announcements.

She poured them each a cup of coffee, then picked up hers and leaned against the counter.

Her gaze was watchful, her expression neutral. She would wait as long as it took. As a teenager, he hated her patience. It had made him squirm and writhe until he eventually confessed to whatever it was he’d done wrong. Today he was grateful she didn’t try to distract him with small talk.

“I have a son. His name is Tyler and he’s eleven.”

His mother nearly dropped the mug of coffee. She quickly put it on the counter. Color drained from her face. She inhaled a deep breath, then another.

“Liz Sutton is back in town,” he continued. “I noticed her during the race yesterday. I went to see her and she told me.” He shoved both hands into his jeans. “I haven’t seen him, yet. I will later tonight.”

“Liz Sutton? You slept with Liz Sutton?”

“It was a long time ago, Mom.”

“I thought I knew about all your girlfriends. When was this?”

Before he could answer, she frowned. “If he’s eleven, you were in college. When we let you live in that apartment over the garage during the summer when you were home. You had sex above the garage?”

“Mom, that isn’t relevant.”

“I think it is. Very relevant. You promised you wouldn’t. You said no girls. You lied and you got one pregnant.”

“Mom.”

She drew in a breath. “Fine. You’re right. Liz got pregnant and…” Her eyes widened. “I have a grandson. Oh, Ethan. How did this happen?”

“We just talked about the sex thing.”

“No. I mean you having a child all this time. Eleven? You said he was eleven? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know.”

She gasped. “She kept it from you? I can’t believe it. How horrible. We have to do something. Are you sure it’s even yours?”

Her reaction was a little scattered, but that was to be expected. It wasn’t as if he was thinking straight, either.

“I’m not trying to be mean, but are you sure? Eleven years is a long time for her to keep this to herself. And why now? What does she want?”

That was a lot of questions. He went with the easiest one first. “The kid is mine. She wasn’t seeing anyone else.”

“Everyone knew what her mother was and the things I heard about her. More than heard. She would get drunk, stand in the parking lot of the bar and scream.” His mother shook her head. “It was horrible. I always felt so badly for Liz. I used to wonder if I should say something or try to help. I have daughters. I know what it’s like. But then she got pregnant.”

“Mom, you didn’t know she was pregnant.”

“You’re right.” She returned to the table. “I don’t even know what to think.”

“You and me both.”

“Do you think she wants money?”

“No.”

“How do you know?”

“She’s a successful mystery author. You’ve read her, remember? She’s written five books and they’ve all done well.”

“I guess you’re right.” Denise made a small sound of defeat and collapsed into a chair by the worn table. “You have a son.”

“That’s what she said.” He settled across from his mom. “I can’t get my mind around it all.”

“All this time and she didn’t say a word?” Denise demanded, her strength obviously returning. “What a total bitch. How dare she keep your son, my grandson, from us. From the family. Who does she think she is?”

His mother was nothing if not loyal, he thought, amused by her easily engaged emotions. Then the humor faded as he remembered she was right. Liz had stolen the one thing that couldn’t be recovered: time.

Denise sprang to her feet and paced the length of the kitchen. “Did she even try to get in touch with you? Why now? What’s different?”

“She’s back because of her brother’s kids.” She’d said more, but he hadn’t been paying attention to much beyond how she’d looked in the moonlight. That was the hell of it—he’d been happy to see her. Had wanted to tell her that she’d grown even more beautiful. He’d apologized for how he’d acted. And she’d let him.

“She didn’t come here to tell you about the boy? About Tyler?”

He shook his head. “It’s complicated. She says she tried to tell me when she first found out, but when she came back, I was with someone else.” He wasn’t going to tell his mother he’d been in bed with Pia O’Brian. They’d dated all of two days and honestly, he couldn’t remember ever sleeping with her.

“That’s it?”

“No. She says she came to town five years ago and spoke with Rayanne. She says she told Rayanne about Tyler and that she wanted to talk to me.”

His mother stared at him intently. “And?”

“She claims she got a letter from me, telling her that I didn’t want anything to do with her or Tyler. That she was to stay out of town.”

Denise folded her arms across her chest. “That’s just so typical,” she grumbled. “Make up a stupid story and then expect everyone to accept it without a shred of proof.”

He would agree, except for one thing. “She says she still has the letter. She’s going to have it delivered by tomorrow morning.”

“Do you believe her?

“I don’t know.”

Tears filled his mother’s eyes. She sank back into the chair. “All this time a little boy has been out there, a member of our family, and we never knew. He’s been lost. Desperate. Alone.”

Ethan didn’t think Liz would appreciate Denise’s assessment of the situation, but his mother had always had a way with words.

“He needs us,” she said, touching his arm. “We have to be there for him. Finding out he has a father is going to be huge.”

“I know.” He squeezed her hand.

She drew in a breath. “We need a plan. We have to stay calm. You’re meeting them tonight?”

“At six.”

“Good. You should be friendly with Liz. Don’t push her right now. The last thing we want is her running away. I know you’re angry and God knows she deserves it. There’s no excuse for what she’s done. None. It wasn’t as if you would have turned her away. You married Rayanne when she got pregnant, and it’s not like she was a catch.”

“Mom,” he began warningly.

She held up her hands. “I know. I’m sorry. You were doing what you’d been taught—taking responsibility and upholding the family name.” Then she frowned. “Ethan, this is two girls you’ve gotten pregnant. I thought your father had the ‘safe sex’ conversation with you. Did he leave something out?”

Ethan stood and took a step back. “Mom, let’s remember the point of the conversation. Liz and Tyler.”

“Right. I know you’re mad. I’m beyond mad. I just want to squash her like a bug. But we can’t. There are things to be worked out. Besides, Tyler is only a boy. He probably loves his mother. You can’t get between them. So when you meet him tonight, be friendly to her, as well. Once you know what’s going on, then you can come up with a plan.”

Hearing her advice helped him to put things in perspective. His relationship with Tyler was his first priority. Punishing Liz could wait.

“Thanks, Mom.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

“You’re welcome.” She touched his cheek. “I want to meet him. My grandson.”

“You will.”

“She’s back home now?”

“Yeah.” The house had been old and run-down twelve years ago. Now it was worse.

“This will work out,” she told him. “You’ll see.”

“I know.”

He would make it work out, one way or another. Liz wasn’t going to steal any more time from him.

* * *

LIZ AND TYLER SPENT THE morning strolling through town. She’d wanted to familiarize herself with the area, although she quickly found out that she hadn’t forgotten anything about living in Fool’s Gold. While there were new businesses, and an impressive development of golf course homes, the basic grid of the town hadn’t changed at all. If you lived close to the park, you could get anywhere by walking.

A little before twelve, she took Tyler to the Fox and Hound for lunch. She remembered the location being a restaurant while she’d been growing up, although it had been called something else. As they waited for their food, they pored over the visitor brochures she’d picked up on their walk and discussed points of interest they could visit while they were here.

“Do you think my dad will want to take me hiking?” Tyler asked.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

She knew that Ethan had been injured in college, shortly after she’d left town. Something about a bike crash. At the time, she hadn’t wanted to know the details. From the little she’d seen, he could walk easily enough, so he could probably handle a day hike.

“You said he rode a bike,” Tyler repeated. “He raced?”

“Yes. In high school and college. He had a friend name Josh. Josh had hurt his legs and he rode his bike to get his strength back. Like physical therapy.”

Tyler nodded, his gaze locked on her. “My dad rode with him?”

“They were friends. They were both really good and started racing together. Then your dad got hurt.”

“What happened to Josh?”

Liz pointed to the poster on the wall—the one that showed Josh Golden in racing gear, a helmet under one arm, his free hand holding on to his bike.

“Whoa!” Tyler grinned at her. “My dad knows Josh Golden?”

“I think Josh lives in town.”

“Sweet.”

Lunch arrived. Between bites Tyler peppered her with questions. Some she could answer, some she couldn’t. A few she ducked. By the time they were on their way home, she was exhausted and feeling more than a little frayed around the edges.

“How about giving me some time to work?” she asked as they approached the house.

“Okay. I’ll watch a movie.” He grabbed her wrist and looked at her watch. “Five more hours.”

She forced a smile. No doubt her son would count down the minutes. While she understood and appreciated his excitement, nothing about this was simple for her. Especially Ethan’s understandable rage and her own growing sense of having screwed up.

But when the self-doubt threatened, she reminded herself that she had come back to tell him about Tyler. Maybe the first effort hadn’t been much, but she’d handled the second one the best she could. She even had proof that Ethan had rejected his son. Proof that might not be real.

What kind of woman kept information of a child from her husband?

In high school, Rayanne had traveled with a pack of mean girls and Liz had been one of their favorite victims. Rayanne, Pia O’Brian and a few others had delighted in making Liz’s life a nightmare. Liz might have been smart and pretty, but she’d been poor, living in a bad part of town and she’d had a reputation.

It didn’t matter that Liz hadn’t dated a single guy until Ethan. Not only had he been her first time, he’d been her first kiss. But as far as everyone in high school was concerned, Liz Sutton had been a piece of ass who put out for anyone who asked. Or paid.

There had been plenty of guys who’d claimed to have done her. She’d heard the bragging, the taunts. No one cared that it wasn’t true. No one questioned the rumors. After all, her mother was a drunk and a whore—why not her?

She shook off the past, knowing it wouldn’t help her now. She had to focus on what was happening today. Wasn’t that enough of a problem?

When they reached the house, Tyler raced into the living room to pick a movie. After searching through the collection in the small bookcase by the window, he chose one and brought it to Liz.

“It’s kind of a girl movie,” he said with a shrug, “but I haven’t seen it.”

Liz glanced at the Hannah Montana title, then ruffled his hair. “Sometimes girls are fun.”

“I guess.”

He would find out about girls being fun soon enough, she thought, watching him bolt upstairs. She’d brought the portable DVD player he used when they traveled, along with headphones. So the house would be quiet. She couldn’t use noise as an excuse not to work.

After booting up her laptop, she did a quick check of e-mail, then opened her Word document. But despite the half-written sentence and the blinking cursor, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

Everyone always talked about how great she had it. That being a writer was so wonderful. She could work anywhere, at anytime. Which was, in theory, true. But there was also no one else to do the work when she wasn’t in the mood, or when life interfered, like now. No meeting to take her mind off her swirling thoughts. At this point she would happily return to her waitressing days rather than try to come up with a few good pages. But that wasn’t an option. She could only type and delete until something finally clicked or there was a miracle.

Today the miracle came in the form of someone ringing the doorbell.

Liz saved her pitiful three sentences and got up from the kitchen table. When she opened the front door, she decided miracle wasn’t exactly the right word.

Denise Hendrix, Ethan’s mother, stood on her doorstep. The woman was well dressed, fit, attractive and based on the fire spitting from her eyes, really, really upset.

“May I come in?” Denise asked, pushing past Liz and entering the shabby living room, then facing her. “We’ve never met, but I’m Ethan’s mother.”

“I know who you are.”

“And why I’m here?” Denise demanded.

As questions went, it wasn’t a difficult one. She nodded.

Denise looked around. “Where is he?”

Liz assumed she meant Tyler. “Upstairs, watching a movie.”

Denise’s gaze went to the stairs. Longing darkened her eyes, then faded as the other woman turned back to her. “Probably for the best. You and I need to talk.”

“Ethan spoke to you.” Liz made the words a statement.

“Yes, he did. He told me you’re claiming to have had his child. A child who is now eleven years old. A boy you’ve kept from his entire family.” Denise glared at her. “I told him to be nice and rational. That it would be easier if we all got along.”

“Advice you’re choosing not to take?” Liz asked, feeling defensive and understanding at the same time. Not exactly a comfortable combination of emotions.

Denise shook her head. “I should, but I can’t. You’ve damaged us all, but your boy most of all.”

Liz grabbed hold of her self-control with both hands. She’d never thought to ask Ethan to keep the information to himself. She didn’t go around talking about her private life with very many people. It didn’t occur to her that he would speak to his mother, and so quickly.

But the Hendrix family had always been close. Something she’d envied when she’d been younger. Now the warm, loving, supportive mother had been replaced by one who perceived one of her own had been wronged.

“I came back to tell Ethan I was pregnant,” Liz countered, knowing there wasn’t actually any point in defending herself, but unable to stop. “I’d been gone about two months. I found him in bed with someone else.”

Denise frowned. “Which I’m sure was very painful, but not an excuse to keep that kind of information from him. He was a father. He had the right to know.”

Liz drew in a breath. “You’re right. He did. Which is why I came back five years ago to tell him. He wasn’t home and I spoke to his wife. I told Rayanne everything and she promised to tell him. Less than two weeks later, I received a letter from Ethan telling me that he wanted nothing to do with me or Tyler. That I should keep away from him and Fool’s Gold. I’m having the letter sent overnight and it will be here tomorrow. I’m happy to give you a copy.”

Liz reached for the door and pulled it open. “So if you’ve only come here to insult me or accuse me of everything from being a whore to tricking your precious son, then I’m done with this conversation.”

“I have a lot more to say.”

“This may be a crappy little house, Denise, but it belongs to my family, not yours. I’m asking you to leave.”

Denise hesitated. She had dark eyes like her son. Like Tyler. Emotions flashed through them.

“He told me about the letter,” Denise said grudgingly. “Ethan may not want to believe Rayanne lied to him, but it sounds exactly like her. If there was a problem she didn’t want to face, she avoided it. You having Ethan’s son would have been a big problem.”

Was that a peace offering? Like it or not, this woman was Tyler’s grandmother.

Liz crossed to her laptop and hit a few keys, then she turned the computer so the screen faced Denise.

The older woman’s mouth dropped open. Color bled away and her eyes widened. She stared greedily at the slide show Liz had started. All the pictures were of Tyler.

“He looks just like Ethan did when he was young. Like all my boys.” Her breath caught. “His smile is different.”

“It’s mine.”

Denise glanced at her, then back at the computer. “He’s eleven?”

“Yes.”

“This changes everything.”

Liz didn’t know if she meant the fact that they now knew about Tyler, or the fairly obvious proof he was a Hendrix. “I know you don’t believe me, but I never wanted to keep Tyler from his father. I did try to tell him. The first time was a poor effort, but the second, I really thought he knew.”

“I believe you,” Denise said slowly. “But I can’t help being angry. We can’t get back all the time that was lost.”

Liz thought about pointing out that Ethan had been the one to sleep with her, to take her virginity, promise to love her forever, then dump her. That when she’d run, he hadn’t bothered to come after her. It was as if she’d never mattered at all.

“Are you going to keep him from us?” Denise asked, sounding both defiant and afraid.

“No. I never wanted that. My life with Tyler wasn’t about punishing anyone. He would like to have a big family.”

“He could have had one all along,” Denise snapped.

“And your son could have been more responsible.”

“Don’t bring Ethan into this.”

“Right. Because I got pregnant all on my own. That whole slut thing, right?”

Denise pressed her lips together. “No. That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry.”

“I appreciate that, but I have things to do.” The door was still open. Liz glanced toward it. “We can continue this another time,” she elaborated. “After I talk to Ethan.”

Denise hesitated, then nodded and left.

Liz closed the door and leaned against it. Talk about a tough twenty-four hours, and it wasn’t over yet.

* * *

EXACTLY AT SIX, ETHAN KNOCKED on Liz’s front door. Her SUV was still in the driveway. He’d checked on it a couple times during the day. Not that he actually thought she would leave, but he wanted to be sure.

The door opened and Liz stood there, glaring at him. “Right on time,” she snapped. “Probably because you’re so damn rested, having sent your mother to take care of things for you.”

She looked good. All fire and temper, her green eyes flashing. He was caught up in the sight of the freckles he’d remembered. In the dark, he’d been unable to see them, but now he could count them easily. So it took a second for her words to register.

“My mother?”

“She was here earlier. It was great. Because you yelling at me isn’t enough of a thrill.”

He grimaced. “I didn’t tell her to come by.”

“You didn’t have to. The Hendrixes all stick together. It was that way years ago and nothing has changed. You told her about me and Tyler, and she showed up. Are you really going to stand there and say you’re shocked?”

“No,” he conceded. “It’s totally her style. For what it’s worth, she’s the one who told me to be rational and reasonable.”

“It’s not worth very much.” She rubbed her temple. “I have to admit in all the years I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to have you involved in Tyler’s life, I never thought of having to deal with your mother.”

“She’ll do anything for the people she loves.”

“Like I’m getting on that list?”

“You know she’ll be there for Tyler.”

“A small consolation,” Liz said. “Right now the only thing I’m grateful for is the fact that she didn’t have time to tell me what having your son is going to mean to the Hendrix family name. How we’ll have to make sure we act right all the time and do the right thing, so the legacy isn’t tarnished.” She took a step. “Come on. He’s waiting to meet you.”

Ethan followed her in. He wanted to ask what she’d told Tyler, what his son was expecting. All day he’d imagined what he was supposed to say or do, how to make it everything Tyler wanted the moment to be. Before he could ask, or even swallow the sudden surge of anger that followed the concern, she stopped and turned to face him.

“He’s really excited and a little scared. I told him some about you—what you do, that sort of thing. Please remember however you feel about what happened, he’s not to blame.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“He’s my son,” she reiterated, staring into his eyes. “I’ll do anything to keep him safe.”

A claim Ethan hadn’t been able to make until now, he thought, knowing he couldn’t dwell on the unfairness of the situation. Tyler was the important one here. The one who had to be protected.

“I’m not going to hurt him,” he said gruffly.

She sighed. “Just be careful. The ability to hurt someone is usually in direct proportion to how much that person cares about you.”

She moved into the living room, then called up the stairs. “Tyler. Your dad is here.”

Ethan braced himself for emotional impact. He heard slow footsteps on the stairs, then his son came into view.

Any doubts he might have had about paternity died the second he saw Tyler. The boy was all Hendrix. From the dark hair and eyes to the shape of his head. He looked like Ethan’s younger brothers had when they’d been kids.

An unexpected rise of emotion made it tough to talk. He was filled with longing and sadness, as well as wonder. His kid. How had this happened without him guessing Tyler was alive?

Liz waited until the boy stepped into the living room, then moved behind him and put her hands on his shoulders.

“Tyler, this is your dad, Ethan Hendrix. Ethan, this is Tyler.”

“Hi,” Tyler said, sounding uncertain. He stared at Ethan, then glanced away, before looking back.

“I was telling Tyler about how you used to ride bikes when you were younger.”

Ethan appreciated the help, even as he resented the need for it. “I was about your age,” he said. “My friend Josh had to ride to help his legs get stronger. We had a lot of fun together. In high school, we started racing competitively.”

Tyler stared at him, wide-eyed. “You grew up here?”

Ethan nodded. “All my life. I come from a big family. I went away to college, but when I graduated, I moved back home.”

“Mom says you have brothers and sisters.”

“Two brothers, three sisters. My sisters are identical triplets.”

“So you can’t tell them apart?”

He smiled. “It was hard when they were younger, but now they’re pretty different.”

“Do they know about me?”

“Not yet, but when I tell them, they’ll want to meet you.”

“Sweet.”

Liz motioned to the sofa. “Why don’t you two sit down and I’ll get some lemonade. We have freshly baked cookies, too.”

“We made the cookies after my cousins got home from school,” Tyler explained, leading the way. “They’re still in school until Friday. Melissa and Abby.” He wrinkled his nose. “They’re okay, you know, for girls.”

“Words that will warm their hearts,” Liz murmured, before she went into the kitchen. The girls were upstairs, out of earshot, thank goodness.

Tyler launched into a detailed description of his last few days of school, his friends in San Francisco and what movies he wanted to see that summer.

“Action Boy looks so cool,” he mentioned. “He’s starting middle school, like me. He picks up a special rock from outer space and gets super powers.”

“Super powers would be a lot of fun,” Ethan told him.

“That one starts in three weeks. Mom always takes me on the first day. We go to the early show, except this one time we went at midnight.” Tyler laughed. “I was still a kid, so I fell asleep. Mom didn’t mind and took me back the next day so I could see what I missed.”

Tyler talked on, the conversation growing easier with every passing minute. Apparently he didn’t stay shy for long. Ethan watched as well as listened, recognizing a few Hendrix family traits in his son.

The subjects themselves were conventional. School, sports, friends, his family. But the latter gave him trouble, seeing as Tyler’s only family was Liz. From what Ethan could tell, she’d been a good mother. Caring, fair and strong when she needed to be. And Tyler had thrived.

He supposed that some part of him should be pleased, but all he felt was deep resentment for what he’d lost. No, he reminded himself. Not lost. What had been stolen from him.

When Tyler ran upstairs to find a favorite video game, Ethan moved into the kitchen. He found Liz there, flipping through a magazine.

“You’re not rejoining us?” he asked, leaning against the door frame.

“I thought I’d give you two time together,” she said. A faint smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Afraid you’ll miss the cookies?”

Humor as a peace offering, he thought. While the sexual side of him could appreciate the shape of her face, the appeal of her body, the rest of him wasn’t so easily swayed.

“I want more time with him,” he said bluntly.

She closed the magazine and rose. “I wasn’t trying to keep him from you,” she began then shook her head. “Never mind. We’ll have that argument when I have evidence on my side. What did you want to suggest?”

“We have a minor league baseball team in town. They’re playing tomorrow. I want to take him.”

“Sure. What time?”

“The game’s at noon.”

“Okay.”

She was too agreeable, he thought, irritated. He wanted to fight with her, argue. He had too much energy and nowhere to put it. Apparently she could also read his mind.

“I’m not the bad guy,” she elaborated softly. “I wish you’d at least try to see that.”

“You kept me from my son. There’s nothing you can say to make that right. What Tyler and I have lost can never be recovered.”

She stared at him for a long time. “I agree I have responsibility for what happened, but so do you. And until you can admit your part of the blame, you’re going to be so caught up in the past, that you’ll miss the present and what you have now.”

“What do I have? A kid who doesn’t know me?”

“You have a second chance, Ethan. How often does that happen?”

CHAPTER FIVE

LIZ GOT THROUGH THE REST OF the evening and actually managed to sleep through the night, despite the lumpy sofa. She spent the morning answering e-mail and figuring out when she could see Roy.

Prison visiting hours were on the weekend. At this point she didn’t think it was a good idea to leave the girls home by themselves for more than a couple of hours. Not that they weren’t capable of handling things—she didn’t want them to feel abandoned. But she couldn’t take them with her the first time. She needed answers from Roy, and he may not tell her everything with the girls there.

Her last books had used a couple California prisons as a backdrop and she knew some people in the system. After making a few calls, she got through to a contact who thought he might be able to get her in for a midweek visit. Pleased, she opened her Word program and prepared to work.

But the second she saw the blinking cursor on the blank page, she found her thoughts straying from her plot to Ethan. He’d been beyond pissed with her and still was. She’d meant what she’d said—he would have to learn to let it go or he would never have a decent relationship with Tyler. Anger had a way of taking over everything. She should know. It had taken her months to get over what Ethan had done to her. In fact, she didn’t think she’d fully let go of her feelings until she’d written that first short story where he’d died a painful death.

Later, when she’d expanded the short story into her first novel, she’d moved beyond the need to punish Ethan. She’d hoped for at least a calm, adult relationship—one that put Tyler first. It was the reason she’d returned five years ago.

She closed the computer and stood. Apparently this wasn’t going to be one of those days when the work went quickly and easily. Maybe she’d been trapped inside for too long.

A quick glance at her watch told her that Ethan would arrive any second to take Tyler to the game. She could go for a walk while they were gone. Clear her head.

Fifteen minutes later, she’d gotten through yet another awkward meeting with Ethan, confirmed when he would bring Tyler back, done her best not to notice how great he looked in jeans and a sweatshirt, then watched them drive away.

And then it hit her. She wasn’t Tyler’s only parent anymore. Suddenly it wasn’t just going to be her and her son ever again. There would be someone else involved. Someone else in on the decisions.

A worry for another day, she told herself. After shoving a few dollars, a credit card and her cell phone into her pocket, she locked the front door of the house and started toward town. Three blocks later, she was walking through Fool’s Gold, noticing the new businesses and old. Morgan’s Books was still there. She remembered the owner from when she’d been growing up. She’d spent hours scanning new titles, writing down which ones she wanted the library to order.

Morgan had been a kind man who’d never minded the time she’d spent, despite the fact that she hadn’t bought a single book. Driven by guilt and maybe a little curiosity as to whether or not he stocked her books, she crossed the street. Before she could step into the store, she saw a window display of her latest hardcover. There was a poster of the cover, a good-sized picture of her, a list of several flattering reviews and a banner proclaiming her a “local author.”

Liz blinked at the display, not sure what to make of it. She’d never hidden where she’d grown up, but she’d never mentioned it, either. There hadn’t been any special events here in town, no book signings. Still, Morgan was treating her like a star.

She pushed open the door and stepped inside. The space was as light and bright as she remembered. There were books everywhere and immediately her fingers itched to hold and open every volume.

She loved books—the weight and smell of them, the feel of the paper against her skin. While an electronic reader took up less room than a stack of books, she had never been able to make the transition. She was a book person.

Morgan’s had a big table displaying new books. Hers sat in the middle, the new hardcover and all four of her backlist books. Several customers browsed. No one seemed to notice her.

If this had been any other bookstore, she would have walked to the information desk and introduced herself, then offered to sign any stock. But this was Fool’s Gold and somehow the regular rules didn’t apply.

Before she could decide what to do, an older woman glanced up and saw her. The woman’s eyebrows went up.

“You’re Liz Sutton,” the woman said in a loud voice. “Oh my God! Morgan! You’ll never guess who just walked into your store.”

Morgan, a tall older man with dark skin and warm brown eyes, stepped from behind the counter and paused at the sight of Liz. A moment later he winked at her. “I have three new books on horses.”

She laughed. The summer she’d turned twelve, she’d been obsessed with horses. Probably because being on one meant the illusion of freedom and being able to ride away. She’d come into his store nearly every day to ask if he had any new books on horses.

“I’ll have to check them out,” she said and crossed to him.

She’d meant to offer her hand to shake, but somehow she found herself hugging him.

“Welcome back, Liz,” he murmured, squeezing her, then holding her at arm’s length and smiling. “You’ve made us all proud. Your books are really good.”

She felt both pleased and a little embarrassed. “Thank you.”

The older woman reached for Liz’s hand. “I’m Sally Banfield. You were in school with my daughter, Michelle. I’m a huge fan. I couldn’t believe it five years ago when Morgan told me you’d written a book. I read it and I was hooked. Your detective is one of my favorite characters ever. She’s just like the people I know, only a little smarter. But she’s real. With problems and everything. I felt so bad her boyfriend got killed in the last book. But he died trying to save her life. It was so romantic. My husband won’t even pick up his own socks, let alone die for anyone.”

Sally frowned. “I don’t think that came out right.”

“I know what you meant,” Liz offered, knowing any fan was a good fan.

“Have you moved back to Fool’s Gold?” Sally asked.

“I, ah, I’m here for a few weeks.”

“I can’t wait to tell all my friends I really met you.” Sally raced toward the door. “You’ve made my day.”

“Thank you.”

When she left, Morgan smiled again. “She means well.”

“I know. And I really do appreciate the enthusiasm.” Liz was willing to overlook the fact that Sally’s daughter Michelle had been one of Liz’s tormentors.

She pointed at the window display. “Thank you for that.”

“You write a great book and everyone wants to hear about a hometown girl doing well. You’re famous here.”

Something Liz had never considered. Her only concern when she’d found out she had to come back had been avoiding Ethan. Now she had to deal with the reality of interacting with an entire town.

“Famous being relative,” she corrected with a laugh.

“We’re having our annual book festival in a couple of months. I provide most of the books through the store. If you’re still around, we’d love you to sign.” He winked again. “Our local authors tend to be self-published, with an emphasis on crafts and legends.”

She had no intention of being anywhere near Fool’s Gold in two months, but Morgan had always been kind to her, so she didn’t want to be rude.

“You’re saying you’ll make more on my books,” she teased.

“You know me. It’s all about the bottom line,” he joked.

“My plans aren’t set, but if I’m here, I’ll sign.”

“I won’t say anything until you’re sure. Otherwise Pia O’Brian will have you leading a parade.”

“Why would Pia care?”

“She’s in charge of all the festivals in town. She coordinates the special events and picnics. The book festival is one of her major fundraisers for the town.”

Oh, goodie, she thought glumly. Because Pia was exactly the person she wanted to see.

“I appreciate your discretion.”

A mother with two teenaged daughters walked into the store. Liz ducked behind them, waved at Morgan and left. She’d barely walked down the three steps to the sidewalk when she had to shift suddenly to avoid running into two women walking together.

“Excuse me,” Liz said, her attention still on the bookstore.

“Liz?” a familiar and unwelcome voice asked. “Liz Sutton?”

Liz held in a groan as she turned and met Pia O’Brian’s surprised gaze. Pia who had taunted her daily all through high school. Pia who had mocked her clothes, her love of books, her reputation.

The woman next to Pia squealed. “Liz Sutton? I’m such a huge fan!”

Liz glanced at her, then wished she had stayed home. The squealer was one of Ethan’s sisters, although she had no idea which one. Not that it mattered. Whatever fanlike feelings his sister might have now would be squashed the second she found out about Tyler.

“Hi,” Liz said weakly, doing her best to smile when what she really wanted to do was run. She looked at Ethan’s sister. “I’m sorry, I know you’re one of Ethan’s sisters…”

“Montana.”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Pia commented, still looking as stylish as ever. Her hair was a little shorter and she looked more twenty-something than teen-queen. Otherwise, she was as perfect as she’d been twelve years ago. “When did you get back? And aren’t you famous? What are you doing here?”

“She’s beyond famous,” Montana gushed. “I can’t believe it. I work at the library part-time. My boss is going to flip when I tell her you’re here.”

Montana was pretty and dark-haired with a sensual smile and a curvy body that made Liz feel just a little inadequate. She didn’t look anything like the stereotype of a quiet librarian.

“It’s a temp job,” Montana admitted, at Liz’s questioning look. “While I figure out what to do with my life. I actually have a degree in Broadcast Journalism. I went to L.A. to be in the news, but I couldn’t find a job beyond making coffee. Plus, it’s just too big-city there for me. I also work part-time at the paper. I do some reporting and…”

Montana reached for Pia and clutched her arm. “Oh, God! The book festival. Liz can be our headliner.” She turned her wide, dark eyes on Liz. “You have to say yes. I swear if I have to put out another display of easy crafts with twigs and branches, I’ll die. Or at the very least lose my sense of humor. You would be a huge draw. Everyone knows you locally, and we could get some real press. Don’t you think Liz would be great?”

“Sure,” Pia responded, studying Liz. “Assuming Liz wants to participate.”

“Of course she does.” Montana glanced at her. “Don’t you?”

“Liz is a big-time author,” Pia acknowledged, her expression unreadable. “New York Times bestsellers in hardcover. A little out of our league.”

Liz couldn’t tell if Pia was helping her or not.

Montana glanced at her watch and groaned. “Well, you can convince her because I have to be at the library in five minutes.” She grinned at Liz. “Welcome back. I love your books. We should get together and talk.”

And then Montana was hurrying away, leaving Liz alone with Pia.

Pia smiled. “Montana is the most enthusiastic person I know, and that’s saying something. While we’d love to have you sign at the festival, you were looking a little trapped. How about if I schedule time to give you my best pitch but I promise not to be offended if you refuse? Not that I won’t call your publicist and beg.”

Liz didn’t understand. Pia was being…nice. Pia was never nice. “I don’t know if I’ll still be in town,” Liz said slowly. “I’m not sure how long I’m staying.”

“You could come back for the signing. Make a weekend of it.” She laughed. “No pressure, I swear. So how are you? I haven’t seen you in forever. It’s been what? Eleven or twelve years since you were last here?”

“Something like that. You’re still in the neighborhood?” Liz did her best to make sure the question sounded as if she were interested rather than judging.

“They can’t get rid of me, although they keep trying.” Pia grinned. “Actually, except for college, I never left. Like Montana, I’m a small-town girl. Unlike her, I’ve found what I want to do.”

“I heard you plan all the festivals.”

“I’m Fool’s Gold’s party girl, and I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

It wasn’t anything Liz could have imagined the other woman doing. Pia had seemed more like someone who would marry well and join the ladies-who-lunch crowd.

“You look great,” Pia told her. “I’ve seen your pictures on the books, but they’re different. More, what? Formal?”

“Stern,” Liz admitted. “What I write requires me to look serious in my pictures.”

“You probably wouldn’t sell as many books if you appeared in taffeta and a pink boa.”

“Exactly.” Liz found herself relaxing a little. A lot of time had passed. Maybe they’d both changed and grown up. “Are you married?”

“No. I’ve never been very good at taking care of things. Although I’m looking after a cat for a friend and that seems to be going well.” Pia frowned. “At least I think it is. He hasn’t tried to kill me in my sleep and just last week he let me pet him. Well, it was more an accidental brush of my hand against his back, but we’re making progress. You?”

“I don’t have a cat.” Liz smiled. “Never married, either.”

“Really? But you’ve always been so beautiful. Back in high school, the guys practically killed themselves trying to get you to notice them. You left the rest of us semi-normal girls feeling like trolls. It was very depressing.”

Liz felt her smile fade as she stared at the other woman. “Is that what you thought? The guys wanted my attention?”

“Sure.”

Liz thought about the horrible comments, the gross come-ons, the snickers. How someone had spray-painted whore on her locker and one of the football players had claimed to have naked pictures of her that were for sale. The drunk carload of guys who had pulled up next to her while she’d been walking home from work late one Saturday night and had said between them they had twenty bucks. That should be enough for all of them to do her.

Pia laughed again. “You probably have to have extra security at your book signings to keep the love-crazed fans away. I think I would have liked being famous. Oh, well. In my next life.”

It was as if they were having completely different conversations, Liz thought, confused by Pia’s friendliness and seeming inability to remember the past with accuracy.

“There’s a group of us girls who get together,” Pia continued. “Sort of a girls’ night out. Or in, because we meet at someone’s house and drink a lot. It’s fun. I think you’d know a few people who come. We’d love to have you.” She pulled a business card out of her purse and turned it over, then grabbed a pen. “Give me your cell.”

Liz recited the numbers, still feeling as if she were having an out-of-body experience.

“It’s great you’re back,” Pia told her. “Let’s go to lunch or something and catch up. And think about that signing.”

The two women parted. Liz continued to walk toward the park by the lake. She was sure she looked completely normal on the outside, while on the inside, she was more than a little confused.

Pia O’Brian friendly? How was that possible? Liz did believe in a person’s ability to change, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to accept a full-blown miracle.

* * *

“I’VE NEVER HEARD OF THE Fool’s Gold Mountaineers,” Tyler told Ethan as they found their seats.

They were both carrying hotdogs and drinks. Ethan kept his eye on the boy to make sure Tyler didn’t trip, but the eleven-year-old didn’t seem to have any trouble navigating through the sparse crowd. They settled three rows up from the field, about a third of the way from home plate to first base.

“They’re a short season A league team,” Ethan said, then tugged on the brim of Tyler’s new scarlet baseball cap. “You know what that means?”

“They don’t play a long season?” Tyler asked with a grin.

“Very good. You’ve heard of Triple A and Double A minor league baseball, right?”

The boy took a bite out of his hotdog and nodded.

“This is another kind of minor league team. Their season runs from early June to early September. The opener was last week.”

“You go to a lot of games?”

“I get here when I can.”

“Mom and me went to see the Giants play a few times. That was real fun. There were a lot more people than here.”

“Fool’s Gold is a lot smaller than San Francisco.”

Tyler picked up his drink. “Mom takes me to lots of stuff. Museums, which sound really bad, but sometimes are fun. We go to the children’s theater and we saw the Lion King musical twice.” He swallowed some of his soda. “I’m kinda old for Disney, but it was still pretty sweet.”

Ethan stared at his son and tried not to let himself think about all the years that had been lost. There was no win in that. He told himself to focus on this moment, and let the rest take care of itself.

At least Tyler seemed ready to accept him. Liz hadn’t turned her son against him—which he probably should appreciate. Of course if she hadn’t kept Tyler from him, it wouldn’t be an issue.

“Do you like school?” he asked.

“Uh-huh. I really like math. I’m good at it. Mom says I get that from you.” The boy frowned. “That’s so weird. I never knew who she meant when she said that. But now, I’ll know she means you.”

Tyler grinned, then took another bite of his hotdog.

“I’m good at sports, too,” he added, when he’d chewed and swallowed. “Mom says she’s a klutz.” He hesitated. “That means she’s not really coordinated.”

“Thanks.”

Tyler beamed. “I didn’t know about you riding bikes and stuff. Now I’m going to ride my bike more.”

“Maybe we can ride together sometime.”

Tyler’s eyes widened. “Could we? Sweet! But you’ll go really fast and beat me. That’s okay. I’ll get better as I grow. That’s what Mom always tells me. That I’m good now and I’m going to get better.”

That was the pattern, Ethan thought grimly. Whatever they were talking about, Tyler had a story about his mother. A positive, supportive example of what a great mother she’d been. Their closeness was a good thing, or so he tried to convince himself.

“Mom says you build windmills. The kind they use for electricity. Can I come see?”

“Sure. We have a wind farm outside of town. We can go there, and you can see where I build them.”

“They’re really big, right?”

“Bigger than you can imagine.”

The game started, distracting Tyler. After they’d stood for the national anthem, they settled back in their seats. Tyler asked about Ethan’s family and the construction business. Ethan told a couple stories from when he’d been younger. The afternoon sped by and when the game ended Ethan had the sense that he knew his son better, along with a certainty that knowing Tyler was going to change his life forever.

They walked back to Liz’s old house.

“If the Mountaineers win this season, they don’t get to go to the World Series,” Tyler said.

“No, but the good players will be moved up in the league and maybe get to play in the majors.”

“I can hit pretty far,” his son told him. “I don’t catch so good.”

“We could practice,” Ethan suggested.

“Yeah?” Tyler grinned. “Mom tries, but she throws like a girl.” His eyes twinkled. “Although I’m not ’posed to say that. She gets mad. One time she told me this whole long story about girls having different hips and how they walk differently and it makes it harder for them to throw like a guy. I sort of understood what she was saying, but then I asked what her hips had to do with her throwing and she got mad.”

Ethan chuckled. “I’m sure she did.”

“Sometimes moms are complicated.”

“It’s not just moms. It’s all women. Just when you think you’ve got them figured out, they surprise you.”

Tyler continued to look up at him. The smile faded. “Do you have other kids?”

Ethan felt a tightness in his chest. Without thinking, he put his hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “No. I don’t.”

“So it’s just me?”

Ethan nodded.

“I wouldn’t mind a brother, but I sure don’t want a sister.”

Liz was sitting on the front porch when they got back to her place. Tyler raced toward her and threw himself in her arms.

“We had the best time,” he said. “The Mountaineers won and the manager got mad at the umpire and got thrown out of the game.”

“That can’t be good,” she replied, releasing her son. She looked over his head toward Ethan. “Sounds like everything went well.”

He nodded, determined not to react to her in a T-shirt and shorts. Nothing about the clothes was special—it was the woman inside the clothes that made him take notice.

Her legs were long and toned, the skin smooth. Her bare feet made her look vulnerable. His instinctive reaction was to protect. Then he had to remind himself that Liz was the bad guy here, which made him uncomfortable.

“I’m gonna tell Melissa and Abby about the game,” Tyler announced and ran inside. The screen door slammed behind him.

“I’m glad you had a good time,” she said.

Ethan let his anger take over. “There shouldn’t be anything to be glad about. I shouldn’t have to get to know my son. I should be a part of his life. You didn’t have the right, Liz. You didn’t just screw with my life, you screwed with Tyler’s.”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment, then she reached behind her and picked up a letter. The envelope was smudged and had the look of paper that had been handled a thousand times. She held it out to him.

He didn’t want to take it. Because in that second, looking into her eyes, he knew she’d been telling the truth. That five years ago she had tried to tell him about Tyler.

His fingers closed over the envelope. The date on the postmark confirmed her story, as did the handwritten address. The writing wasn’t his—he could see that immediately. But it was close enough that someone else could be fooled. After all, it wouldn’t have occurred to Liz that someone was trying to mislead her.

He pulled out the single sheet of paper. The message was brutally clear. “I know about the kid you claim is mine. What we had ended years ago. I have my own family now. My own responsibilities. I don’t want anything to do with him or you. Stay away from me and from Fool’s Gold.”

The letter didn’t excuse her running away and not telling him about her pregnancy, but it explained a lot. Suddenly his anger wasn’t as hot or bright as it had been. He was the one left feeling played by a woman who had claimed to love him.

Rayanne had known, he thought, shaking his head. She’d known for months, had gone into labor knowing he had another child out there and hadn’t said a word. She’d kept the truth to herself, even as she died in his arms.

While theirs might not have been a love match, he’d thought he’d known her. Had understood her. But he’d been wrong. She hadn’t been willing to take a chance that he might want Liz’s child more than he wanted hers. He knew Rayanne well enough to believe that.

The deception changed everything, he thought grimly, although he couldn’t say how. It wasn’t just the act of omission—she’d deliberately lied to Liz. What if Tyler had needed him? Liz would never have contacted him. Not after reading those words.

“I’m sorry,” Liz murmured.

He returned his attention to her, saw the sympathy in her green eyes. “What have you got to be sorry about?”

“You were married to her. She’s gone. You can’t ask her why she did it or know if she ever regretted what she did.”

He already knew the answer to both. The only real question was how he could have been so wrong about the woman he’d married.

He put the letter back in the envelope and handed both to her. “I guess I owe you an apology.”

“I’ll remind you of that the next time you’re mad at me. I expect that to be in about fifteen seconds.” She gave him a slow smile. “You’ve become emotionally volatile in my absence. It’s a little surprising.”

“Maybe I’m exploring my feminine side.”

“Maybe you need medication.”

He leaned against the railing. “You really did try to tell me about Tyler.”

She nodded.

There were still the first six years of Tyler’s life to deal with, but that was for another time. A few words on a page had changed everything.

“Can we start over?” he asked.

Her expression turned wary. “While I appreciate the offer and don’t mean to sound ungracious, it’s really just a matter of time until you’re pissed at me again.”

“Don’t you want to take advantage of my good mood?”

She grimaced. “No, thanks.”

“You should. Have dinner with me. We can talk logistics.”

She shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m not ready to be exposed to the questionable society of this town. Eating out, with you, in a restaurant, isn’t my idea of a good time.”

“At my place. Tomorrow night.”

“You cook?”

“I have many talents.”

A light wash of color stained her cheeks. “Yes, well, I have three minors I have to worry about. Melissa is fourteen and plenty old enough to be left on her own, but under the circumstances, I’m not sure I want to leave her in charge. She’s had enough responsibility for a while.”

“My mom can come over and watch them.”

Liz winced. “I’m sure she’s a lovely woman, but I’m not up to another encounter with the soul that is your mother.”

“Then I’ll ask one of my sisters.”

Liz considered that. “If Montana will stay with the kids, I’ll go. I ran into her today and she doesn’t hate me. In your family, that’s practically a miracle. Of course she doesn’t know about Tyler and it’s possible finding out will change everything, but a girl can dream.”

“Montana it is,” he agreed. “She’ll be here at six tomorrow.”

“How do you know she doesn’t have plans?”

“I don’t, but she owes me.”

“Typical male.”

He grinned. “Is that a yes?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.

She sighed. “Yes.”

* * *

LIZ HAD ALMOST TWENTY-FOUR hours to regret her decision and she did her best to make use of the time.

Dinner with Ethan? What had she been thinking? More alone time so he could yell at her again? Not her smartest move. But now, as she got ready to walk over to his place, she knew she wasn’t going to back out. She and Ethan had too much they had to talk about—mostly practicalities when it came to him getting to know Tyler. With a little luck, and proof that she had tried to contact him five years before, they might be able to have a normal, regular conversation. Like adults.

Maybe.

Montana arrived right on time, as bubbly and gushing as she had been the day before.

“I brought books for you to sign,” Ethan’s sister spoke as she entered the house. “Not tonight. I’ll just leave them and you can get to them when it’s convenient. And Pia told me I’m not supposed to bug you about the book festival, but offering my babysitting services in exchange for you coming to the festival isn’t exactly the same as bugging, right?”

Liz couldn’t help laughing. “Do you drink a lot of coffee?”

Montana grinned. “I get that question all the time.” She glanced around, as if checking to see if they were alone, then lowered her voice. “I heard about Tyler and that you tried to tell Ethan before. That Rayanne kept it from him. I know we’re not supposed to say anything bad about someone who’s dead, but I’m not even surprised she did that.”

Liz wanted to ask her why, but the three kids came down the stairs just then.

Introductions were made, the pizza ordered and rules for the evening established. Liz made sure her cell number was written down. She’d already talked to Melissa about Montana coming over to watch the younger kids and the teen had agreed she was happy not to have to take on more responsibility. Just before she left, Liz checked to make sure the pizza money was on the dining room table.

But the two twenties she’d left were gone.

“Did somebody take the pizza money?” she yelled toward the living room.

The kids and Montana were already engrossed in picking out their movies for the evening. A mumbled “I didn’t see it” drifted back to her.

Liz checked under the table, to see if the money had fallen. But there weren’t any bills tucked behind chair legs. Maybe she’d only planned to put out the money.

She removed two more twenties from her wallet and handed them to Montana.

“Have fun,” she called. “I should be back by ten, but if I’m not, everyone goes to bed then. Bye.”

“Bye, Aunt Liz.”

“Bye, Mom.”

“Have a good time,” Montana told her. “Get Ethan to tell you about the book festival.”

“You’re relentless,” Liz said as she walked to the door.

“One of my best qualities. It marks me as a Hendrix.”

CHAPTER SIX

ETHAN’S HOUSE WAS ON THE OTHER side of town, which meant it was a fifteen-minute walk. With the longer days, the sun was still out, the sky blue. She distracted herself by naming the flowers she passed. As she knew little more than the basic rose/carnation/daisy types, it wasn’t a totally successful diversion.

Instead she questioned her choice of clothing for the evening. She’d wanted to be casual but not too casual, settling on a cap-sleeve T-shirt in light green and a white denim skirt that showed off her spray-tanned legs. With her red hair, real tanning was impossible and only promoted sunburn and freckles.

Maybe she should have simply worn jeans. Did a skirt imply a date? She didn’t want him thinking she thought this was more than it was.

Before she could make herself totally insane, she turned on Ethan’s street and paused to admire the house. It was relatively new, craftsman style with a wide porch and plenty of wood. Cream shutters contrasted with the deep green of the main house.

There was plenty more to appreciate, but she had a feeling that if she stood in front too long, she wouldn’t have the courage to go inside. Eventually the neighbors would notice her frozen on the sidewalk, assume she was crazy and call the police. From there it would all be downhill, proving that going inside was probably the safest and best plan.

She made her way to the front door, which opened before she could knock. Ethan stood there, looking tall and masculine and sexy in jeans, boots and a soft white shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His hair was slightly mussed, his expression both welcoming and expectant. For a second she felt a very different kind of tension—one that began low in her belly and worked itself all over her body. While it was better than nerves or annoyance, it wasn’t any safer.

She’d loved Ethan once, she reminded herself. That made her vulnerable. Just because they’d worked through a few things didn’t mean she could relax now. Noticing that he was a good-looking guy who made her insides sigh with appreciation wasn’t anything she had time for.

“You made it,” he noted.

“Amazing but true.” She stepped inside. “Great house. Did you build it?”

“A few years ago.”

“With Rayanne?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“No. I sold that house.”

Because of the memories? Probably, she thought, telling herself not to ask questions if she didn’t want to hear the answers.

“Come on in,” he said, motioning her to the left.

The entryway was large and open, with a two-story ceiling and dark wood floors. She crossed the space and entered a huge living room with a fireplace at one end and a view of the mountains through big windows.

The furniture was masculine but comfortable, the artwork conservative. Rugs covered enough of the hardwood floor that sound didn’t echo. On the far side was an opening to a dining room.

He led the way into the kitchen which was filled with cherry cabinets, miles of granite and large south-facing windows. Two bar stools had been pulled up to the counter. There was a bottle of red wine and two glasses, along with a plate of appetizers. Delicious scents of garlic and spices drifted from one of the two stainless steel ovens.

“I’m impressed,” she said.

“Don’t be. I know a great caterer. I call, food arrives, I heat it.”

He waited until she took one of the seats before reaching for the wine.

“The perfect bachelor lifestyle?” she asked.

“Some days.” He opened the bottle with an easy, practiced motion. “You’re not married, either. Want to talk about it?”

She took the glass of wine he offered and shook her head. “Not really.”

“Because of the guy or because we should stick to safer topics?”

“I think safer topics are a better idea,” she answered cautiously.

“You sound wary.”

“I’m prepared to practice my duck-and-cover skills.”

He gave her a smile. “Because I may start using you as target practice again?”

“Absolutely.”

The bar was high enough that with her sitting and him standing, they were practically at eye level. She could see all the shades of brown that made up his irises, the long, thick lashes that took her three coats of mascara to achieve. If she inhaled deeply, she would catch the scent of soap and man. A scent she remembered, even now.

“Tonight we’ve called a truce,” he declared, touching his glass to hers. “Remember?”

“And I can trust you?”

The smile turned into the slow, sexy grin she remembered. The one that made her think about how long it had been since she’d had a man in her bed. No, not a man, she corrected herself. This man.

They might have been young, but he’d still been a whole lot more than her first time. He’d been her best time. He’d made love with a combination of affection and tenderness no one else had matched. He’d made her believe that anything was possible.

And then he’d broken her heart.

“A truce,” she agreed, knowing that having loved Ethan once, she would always be vulnerable to him. She had to stay strong to protect herself and Tyler.

He moved to the other side of the counter and pushed the plate of food toward her.

“How’s it going with Roy’s kids?” he asked.

“So far, so good. I’ve got them fed and feeling safe, so that’s half the battle.” She leaned toward him. “They survived on their own for nearly three months. Roy’s wife left them one hundred dollars and took off. I want to report her to the police, but I need to talk to Roy first. Find out what he wants.”

Ethan looked stunned. “She abandoned two kids?”

“Walked out and never came back. The money ran out, the utilities got turned off. Melissa’s been stealing what they needed to survive.”

“No one noticed?” he asked. “No one called social services?”

Liz thought about her own childhood. “You’d be amazed at how many kids slip through the cracks. I’m going to see Roy tomorrow. I wanted to go there while the girls are still in school.” She glanced at him. “Would you mind taking Tyler? I don’t think he’s ready to see Folsom Prison.”

“Sure. Bring him by the office.”

“Thanks.”

“What’s going to happen to the girls?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m hoping Roy has a plan. If he doesn’t, my family just got bigger.”

“You’d take them?”

She nodded slowly, thinking if there wasn’t anyone else, she didn’t have much choice. She knew nothing about teenage girls, except she’d once been one. She hoped that was going to be enough.

“That’s a lot to take on,” he said.

“You’d do the same for one of your brothers or sisters.”

“Probably. If Mom didn’t take them first.”

“She is a tiger.” Liz did her best to keep her tone light.

“You’ll like her a lot more when you get to know her.”

“Something else to look forward to,” Liz murmured, hoping she wouldn’t be in town long enough for any of Ethan’s family to be an issue.

“Having Roy’s kids in your life would change everything,” he told her.

“I know. I’m still kind of in denial. Better to wait and see what happens than start any planning now. If the arrangement is permanent, then we’ll all figure it out together.”

She looked up and saw him staring at her. “What?”

“Just waiting for you to admit you were killing me over and over again in your books.”

She shrugged, trying not to smile. Or be happy that he’d obviously read her books. “You should be flattered. You’re a recurring character in a successful series of books.”

“I’m a dead body. Not much to be flattered about.”

“You always get a name and a history.”

“Along with a very graphic description of my death.”

This time she did smile. “You’re a tough guy. You can handle it.”

He smiled back. “I’m hoping to persuade you to move on to another victim.”

“The writing muse is a tricky thing.”

He leaned against the counter. “You don’t believe in muses.”

“How do you know?”

“You wouldn’t give up that much power to a force you couldn’t control.”

He was right, but it startled her that he had figured it out. No doubt their pesky past was to blame. Before she could figure out what to say, the oven timer dinged.

Saved by the bell had never sounded so good.

* * *

THEY MADE IT THROUGH DINNER talking about safer topics. The catered food was excellent, the wine good enough that she didn’t protest when he refilled her glass twice. The result was a pleasantly full feeling combined with a slight buzz. Liz wasn’t drunk, but she was glad she was walking rather than driving home.

“Does the town look different to you?” Ethan asked when they’d finished eating. It had grown dark outside. A cool breeze drifted in through the open windows.

“There’s been a lot of growth,” she said, turning her glass slowly. “Those new houses out by the golf course. When I left, I’m not sure they’d even broken ground on the lots. There are a few new businesses. Daisy’s place is now the Fox and Hound.”

“Daisy’s place has been five different restaurants in the past ten years. No one knows why—it’s a good location. Lots of foot traffic.”

“There are new people, too,” she added, glancing at him. “And some old. I ran into Pia yesterday, along with your sister.”

Although she was watching carefully, nothing about his expression changed.

He seemed to sense her scrutiny and frowned. “What?”

“I thought you’d have something to say about her.”

“Pia? Why?”

“Because she’s here. Because when I first found out I was pregnant, I came back to tell you only to find you in bed with her.” She held up her hand. “Sorry. That’s not truce material. You’ll tell me that I left and you could see whoever you wanted. That will hurt my feelings, then I’ll yell and we’ll fight and I’m tired of fighting. At least for tonight.”

“You don’t need me here for this conversation, do you?”

“Apparently not.” She sighed. “I do have a question about her, though.”

“Pia?”

She nodded. “In high school, she was really horrible, right? Mean and bitchy and not someone you’d leave a small child with?”

“She wasn’t the nicest person.”

“Good. Then it’s not my imagination. Because she was totally different yesterday. Friendly and nice. It was so unexpected, I felt like I was having an alternate-universe experience. I started to wonder if I was remembering the past wrong or something.”

“You’re not.” He hesitated. “I didn’t sleep with Pia.”

Liz was sorry she’d brought it up. Apparently Pia wasn’t the only one to have bitchy moments. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. We were at a party, I was missing you and lonely and mad. I’d been out with her a couple of times, I took her home, but I was too drunk. Nothing happened.”

All this time later, she found herself wanting to believe him. “Ethan, it was a long time ago.”

“I didn’t sleep with her,” he repeated.

Information that shouldn’t make a difference, but still loosened a knot inside of her.

“Thanks,” she said.

“You’re welcome.” He picked up his wine. “I know why you left, but I wish you’d stayed to talk to me.”

She shrugged. There was no way that would have happened. “You went back to college and forgot about me.”

“I never forgot.”

There was something about the way he said the words. Something about his dark gaze. She felt herself drawn to him, or maybe she was drawn to their past. Ever since she’d gotten the e-mail from her niece, her life had been crazy and confusing and she hadn’t had a chance to catch her breath.

“You swore you’d never stay here,” she remembered, to distract them both. “After college, you were going to see the world.”

“It didn’t work out that way.”

“The injury?”

He stared at her. “You know about that?”

Ethan had entered college on an athletic scholarship. He and Josh had always planned to take the racing world by storm. They would compete together, sharing the victories. They’d planned back-to-back Tour de France wins, arguing about who would be victorious that first year.

In college Ethan had been hurt enough that he never had the chance to race competitively.

“I wasn’t reading the paper searching for your name, if that’s what you’re asking,” she corrected. “But I heard what happened. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “That was a long time ago. I finished college and came home to sulk.” One corner of his mouth turned up. “Not that I would have admitted it at the time. Then my dad died unexpectedly. My mom fell apart. Everyone looked to me and I had to make it right.”

Which sounded like him. Even in high school he’d been a steady kind of guy. Not that rejecting her had made him hero material.

She told herself to let that go, at least for now. Tonight was about getting to know each other again so they could be friends and deal with Tyler.

“You took over the business?” she asked.

He nodded. “Learned it from the bottom up. Took me a while to figure out I liked building things. Then I started with the windmills.”

“And the rest is history?”

“Something like that.”

“You could have walked away,” she said. “But the thought didn’t cross your mind, did it?”

“No. You know me—it’s all about family. The Hendrixes’ place in our town’s history.” His tone was filled with both humor and pride.

He’d been like that before, she remembered. Proud of his heritage and amused by it at the same time. Back in school, he’d claimed he was different from his father, but he was wrong. When push came to shove, he worried more about the family reputation than doing the right thing.

She probably should have resented him for that, but she couldn’t. It was who he was. It was like resenting feathers on a bird—a waste of time. He was who he had always been—a basically good guy with a few faults.

Their eyes met. Something crackled between them. Awareness, she thought, feeling a sense of yearning she hadn’t felt for years. A wanting that was based on both what she knew had been possible once, and a sense of loss. She’d carried emptiness around for so long now. A dark hole where her love for Ethan had once lived.

There had been other men who had tried to claim her heart, or at least her body and her attention. Occasionally she’d had relationships. With Ryan, she’d done her best to convince herself she was in love—but she’d been wrong. There had only ever been Ethan.

He’d been the one who had made her believe, both in herself and in possibilities. With him, she’d been able to imagine a place that wasn’t Fool’s Gold. They’d talked about going away together, about a future. He’d told her that he wanted to marry her.

She felt a sudden unsteadiness, even though she was sitting. As if past and present had somehow become entwined. She knew that wasn’t possible, that she and Ethan were incredibly different people. That any feelings she had were the result of the wine and the stress and maybe how good he looked sitting across from her.

He swore under his breath. “Don’t,” he breathed. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Instead of answering, he rose and circled the bar. She came to her feet without being prompted. They were standing so close, she could feel the heat of him.

They stared at each other, a sense of the inevitable growing. Of being unable to escape, and knowing she didn’t want to. Then his hands were cupping her face, drawing her to him. She went willingly, pressing herself against him even as his mouth claimed hers.

The kiss was hot, insistent, erotic. His mouth was firm and tender, better than she remembered and she had thought she’d remembered it all. Her arms went around him as she held on.

They pressed together, hard to soft, male to female. He was thicker, broader. A man now. A man who pulled her close and tempted her with a kiss that tore at her soul.

Their tongues tangled in rediscovered erotic yearning. He tasted of the wine and of himself—flavors that were impossible to resist. She tilted her head to deepen the kiss, leaned into him, wishing she could crawl inside. He dropped his hands to her hips, his fingertips lightly touching the curve of her butt. Without thinking, she pushed her hips toward him in an age-old invitation. Her belly came in contact with something hard and thick and dangerous.

Sexual need exploded. It crashed into her with no warning and left her breathless and hungry. Desire poured through her, liquid heat that stole her strength, her will and her common sense. Knowing he wanted her, knowing what he would feel like inside of her, was too much.

Maybe it was the past she couldn’t seem to escape, or everything that had happened in the last couple days. The emotional ups and downs that left her unable to think things through. All she knew was that she wanted Ethan with a passion she hadn’t experienced in a long time and if she didn’t have him that second, she would probably die.

He must have read her mind, or felt the shift in her body because the hands on her hips tightened. He moved his mouth from hers, only to trace an arousing line down her jaw to her neck. He nipped on her earlobe, before licking the sensitive spot right below it.

He pulled up her T-shirt, then reached behind her and unfastened her bra. His mouth closed on her tight, aching nipples, licking and sucking until she shivered with arousal. Each tug, each stroke, sent fire racing through her. She burned everywhere. The frantic need grew until it was more powerful than her heartbeat, more necessary than air.

Her legs were weak, her core swollen and damp. She touched his arms, his chest, then dropped her hand to his erection, cupping him through the thick fabric of his jeans.

Still sucking on her breasts, he shoved up her skirt and slipped his fingers between her thighs. He found the promised land on the first try, easing his fingers against the hypersensitive, swollen flesh. She pulled back long enough to rip off her cotton bikini panties, then returned to his welcoming embrace.

He thrust two fingers inside her, using his thumb to rub her very center. In a matter of seconds, she could barely breathe. Tension and pleasure competed. Her legs wobbled.

Ethan eased her back a step. She felt the kitchen island behind her. As he slid her onto it, she heard flatware hit the floor, followed by the crash of a dinner plate. His gaze locked with hers, as if the sound didn’t matter. As if there was only this moment and the two of them.

He was still rubbing her, moving his fingers in and out. Her muscles tightened around him, drawing him in deeper. He stroked with a sureness that allowed her to surrender. The steady rhythm of his thumb matched the pounding of her heart. She could see the fire burning in his dark eyes and knew there was no turning back. Maybe that chance had never existed.

She unfastened his belt, then the button on his jeans. She eased down the zipper, mindful of how big and hard he was, and how good he would feel inside her.

She shoved his jeans down his hips, then did the same with his boxers. The second she freed him, he stepped forward, replaced his fingers with his erection and pushed into her.

The force of the thrust pushed her back a good six inches. She braced herself on the countertop, her hands jarring loose a glass and more flatware. She didn’t care. Nothing mattered but how he filled her, stretching her, satisfying her, going deeper and harder, the heat building between them.

He had hold of her hips. She wrapped her legs around him. They were joined so completely, she had the feeling they could never be separate again. More and more until all she could think about was the pleasure spilling over and around and then she was coming.

She cried out her release. His low groan accompanied her sounds of satisfaction. They strained toward each other, making it last as long as possible, the contractions slowing and finally stilling.

The kitchen was silent except for the low hum of the refrigerator and the sound of their breathing. Reality returned as Liz slowly lowered her legs and Ethan stepped back.

She’d just had sex with Tyler’s father—on a kitchen bar. She’d been back in town less than a week and she’d already surrendered to a man who had rejected her years ago, accused her of lying and keeping his son from him. A man who was nothing but trouble, with a huge family and ties to a town she couldn’t wait to leave.

“Crap,” she muttered as she carefully slid to her feet, then stood and steadied herself. “Crap, crap, crap.”

“Liz,” he began.

She held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t,” she ordered as she pulled down her skirt. Her panties were somewhere on the floor, but she didn’t bother looking for them. “Just don’t. This was really stupid. On the stupid scale, it gets a ten.”

He pulled up his boxers and jeans. “It’s not like I planned this. It was just one of those things.”

Typical man, she thought, picking her way through the broken glass. It was a whole lot more than that. It was trouble. No matter what happened between them, the sex would be lurking. She’d given in when she’d meant to be strong.

“What the hell were you thinking?” she demanded. “Don’t you ever use a condom?”

He stiffened.

She sucked in a breath. “I’m on the pill, you idiot, but haven’t you learned anything since high school? This was a huge mistake. It never happened. Am I clear? Never.”

“You can’t pretend it away.”

“Watch me,” she declared as she made her way to the front door.

Her purse was where she’d left it, on the small table in the entryway. She grabbed it and left, walking briskly to the sidewalk, ignoring the slightly squishy feeling that was the lingering proof of what they’d just done.

Ethan didn’t come after her and she was grateful. By the end of the block, she was willing to admit she might have overreacted. By the second block, she knew the person she was really angry with was herself, not him. By the time she got home, she didn’t feel any better about what had happened and she didn’t have a clue how she was ever going to face him again.

Whoever said you couldn’t go home again had been dead wrong, she thought as she climbed the steps to the house where she’d grown up. You could and being there was nothing but a disaster.

CHAPTER SEVEN

PASSING THROUGH A METAL detector, then being patted down before going into prison had a way of putting one’s life in perspective, Liz thought the next morning as she waited while the guard searched her purse. When she’d been cleared to proceed, she followed yet another guard into a small room with a table, half a dozen chairs and a small window looking out onto a courtyard.

Since it wasn’t a regular visiting day or a normal visiting room, they would have an element of privacy. She pulled out a metal chair and sat down. The room was cool and despite the small size, she felt oddly exposed. Although that could have more to do with what had happened the previous evening than her meeting with Roy.

She hadn’t slept at all. Telling herself she’d acted irresponsibly and impulsively didn’t make for a restful night. Nor did the waves of sense memory that shuddered through her from time to time. Physical reminders of the music Ethan had played on her skin.

The last thing they needed were more complications, but here they were. And she had no one to blame but herself.

Sucking in a deep breath, she pushed the memories and recriminations to the back of her mind. She would beat herself up some more on the drive back to Fool’s Gold. Right now she had to concentrate on seeing her brother for the first time in nearly eighteen years.

As if on cue, the door—opposite the one she’d used—opened and a man entered. He was a few inches taller than her, with thin gray hair and weary green eyes. She knew Roy was in his forties, but he could have easily passed for a man in his sixties. For a second he stared, confused, then he smiled.

“Damn. Look at you,” he greeted as he approached. “They said I had a visitor. I couldn’t figure out who. It’s not the regular day and no one comes to see me. I thought it was a mistake. How you doing, Liz?”

“Hi, Roy. It’s been a long time.”

She’d been twelve when he’d taken off without warning, leaving her in the hands of an indifferent parent. Still a child. She’d grown up a lot that summer.

“You look good,” he told her, pulling out one of the chairs and sitting down. “I’ve read your books. You’re famous now, aren’t you?”

“Not exactly.” She settled in a chair across the table. “But I know a guy who got me in to see you on a non-visiting day.”

“That’s something.”

He looked tired—as if the road of life had been too long.

“I’m real proud of you, Lizzy,” he continued. “Real proud.”

“Thanks.” She glanced around the bleak room. “What happened? How’d you end up here?”

He shrugged. “There was a fight in a bar. I defended myself, but the D.A. didn’t see it that way. It wasn’t my fault.”

The words were familiar. It had been like this before, she thought sadly. When she’d been younger. Nothing had ever been his fault.

“How long are you in?” she asked.

“Fifteen to twenty. I’ll get out sooner. For good behavior.” He leaned toward her. “You seen my girls?”

“I have. They’re great. They miss you.”

“I miss ’em, too. I should write more, I know. Time has a way of slipping by. I’m a busy man.”

He was in prison—how busy could he be? But she knew there was no point in having that conversation.

“I was surprised you’d moved back to Fool’s Gold,” she said. “When did that happen?”

“After Mom died.” He frowned. “I thought you knew. I always stayed in touch with her. I came back when she got sick. It was fast. She went into the hospital and a week later she was gone. I’d just married Bettina and we didn’t have a place, so when I found out Mom had left me the house, I moved us there.”

She shook her head. “You stayed in touch with Mom? You wrote and called?”

“Sure. I wrote you, too. After I left. You never answered. I thought you were irritated or something.”

“I never got the letters,” she said softly, trying to breathe through the pain. Roy had written? She’d thought he’d simply disappeared, abandoning her without a second thought.

“You know what Mom was like,” Roy reminded her. “She had her weird rules.”

Liz remembered. Her last contact with her mother had been the older woman’s request that Liz not bother her again. Someone in the hospital had contacted her through her publisher to tell Liz that her mother was sick. Before she could finalize her travel arrangements, she’d received another call saying her mother had died. At that point, returning to Fool’s Gold for the funeral had seemed pointless. Now she knew that Roy had been there.

“Relationships are complicated,” she murmured, not sure what she should have done differently. There was no real sense of loss, just an absence of connection, and sadness. Roy was her brother—they should have been a family, but they weren’t. They were only relatives.

“I came to see you because of your girls,” Liz informed him. “Melissa e-mailed me a few days ago.” She hesitated. “I’m sorry, Roy, but Bettina is gone.”

He turned away. “I wondered,” he muttered, returning his attention to her, looking more resigned than surprised. “I haven’t heard from her in a while. She took the girls with her?”

“Um, not exactly. Bettina took off a couple months ago. Melissa and Abby have been on their own ever since.”

The color drained from his tired, wrinkled face. “That bitch. She never said a word. Are they all right?”

“They’re fine. Melissa’s been taking care of both of them. When it got to be too much for her, she found me through my Web site. I came right away. Some arrangements have to be made….”

Roy rose and crossed to the window. He stood there, his shoulders bent. “I got no one, Lizzy. Those girls? They’re all I have. Can you take ’em?”

She wanted to say no. She barely knew her nieces and looking after them for a few days was very different than taking responsibility permanently. But even as she tried to refuse, she knew she couldn’t. If the girls didn’t stay with her, they would go into foster care, probably be separated. Who knew what would happen to them.

“I’ll sign whatever papers you want,” he added quickly. “To make it easy on you.”

“Of course I’ll take them,” she replied, smiling when he turned to face her. “But I can’t stay in Fool’s Gold. My life is in San Francisco, as is Tyler’s.”

“He your husband?”

“My son. He’s eleven.”

Roy grinned. “You got a boy? I didn’t know.”

Their mother had known, but obviously she hadn’t felt the need to pass on the information. “He’s great.” She pulled a picture out of her purse and carried it over to Roy.

Her brother stared at the photo. “He’s a good-looking kid.”

“I think so.”

He swallowed. “Maybe San Francisco would be better for my girls. A chance to start over where no one knows about me. I tried to settle in town, but it didn’t go well. People couldn’t get past the family name, you know? You could sell the house and put the money away for them. For college or a wedding or something.”

She thought about the battered old structure that was as tired-looking as Roy. “It would need some work,” she began.

“Not much. I got most of the projects started.”

“I noticed that.”

He smiled sheepishly. “I’m not one for finishing.” The smile faded. “I need you to take care of my girls, Lizzy.”

Perhaps it had always been inevitable that things would end up this way, she thought. “They’ll be safe with me.”

“I know they will. You’ve gone and gotten all fancy, with your books and everything. They’ll like that.”

“They’d like to see you.”

“No. Not here. I don’t want them thinking of me here.”

“You’re their father. They need to know you’re all right.”

He sucked in a breath. “Visiting day is bad, Lizzy. Everybody crying. There’s no being together.”

“Their stepmother abandoned them, they don’t know me at all. You’re the one person in their life they know loves them.”

“Fine. But give me a couple of weeks. I’ll write ’em and let ’em know I’m thinking about ’em.”

“Sure. I’ll be in Fool’s Gold a bit longer.” Figuring out what to do with the house would take some time. She had a feeling that neither girl would be especially excited about the thought of moving. Melissa had certainly been clear about that already.

“Thanks, Lizzy,” Roy said, hugging her.

She held on, trying to reconcile the man she hung on to with the brother she had adored. But it was impossible. Too much time, she thought sadly. Too many miles.

“I’ll be in touch,” she promised and walked toward the door that would lead to the outside world, while Roy stepped through the one that took him back to prison.

* * *

“SO IT’S A CAMP?” TYLER ASKED. “Mom sends me to a day camp in the summer. I went overnight a couple of times, up in the mountains.”

Ethan glanced at his son, then returned his attention to the road. “This is both,” he explained. “Kids come from all over and they stay for a couple weeks. Local kids can come up daily, if they want. There’s a bus that takes them.”

Liz had dropped off Tyler about an hour ago, hovering by the front door until the kid had reached Ethan’s office. As if she was avoiding him. Who was he kidding—of course she was avoiding him. Why wouldn’t she?

Ethan had planned for Tyler to stay in his office for the morning, maybe head over to the turbine manufacturing facility. But Raoul had called and asked to meet him at the camp and Ethan had figured that was as good a way to spend a morning as any. Maybe going to the camp would be a better distraction. He needed something to stop him from thinking about what he and Liz had done the previous night.

Ethan hadn’t meant for anything to happen. It had been so far off his radar, he hadn’t even thought about coming up with a plan to avoid having sex with Liz. He’d been so damned angry—he still was.

Although he had to admit seeing the letter had shifted things. And being alone with Liz had been better than he’d remembered. She’d always been beautiful and smart and funny. Now she was those things plus she had a maturity that appealed to him. He’d wanted her years ago and he still wanted her, even though being with her meant nothing but trouble.

He turned off the main highway, onto a private road marked by a red sign pointing to “End Zone for Kids.”

“The guy who started the camp used to play football,” Ethan said. “Raoul Moreno. He was a quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys.”

Tyler looked at him, his eyes wide. “I know who he is. Does he ever come to the camp? Do you think I can meet him?”

“Remember I told you I had a meeting with a guy? He’s that guy.”

“Sweet!” Tyler bounced in his seat. “That’s so awesome. I can’t wait to tell my friends.”

“I’ll take a picture with my cell,” Ethan told him. “You can e-mail it to them.”

“All right!” Tyler stared out of the front of the truck. “Are we there yet?”

Ethan laughed, then turned into the mostly empty parking lot. The camp would officially open on Saturday when the first inner-city kids arrived. The day camp for locals began on Monday.

Initially, Ethan had wondered at the wisdom of mixing the overnighters with kids from town. His sister Dakota who ran the camp for Raoul, had explained that it was a good learning experience for both groups. Usually small-town kids and inner-city kids had almost no contact, except possibly during regional and statewide play-offs. Getting them involved with each other now meant expanding their world view before they made up their minds about what the world was like.

Ethan parked between a Ferrari and his sister’s beat-up Jeep. Tyler was out of the truck before the engine was off, jumping impatiently as he waited for Ethan.

“Is that his car? It’s really cool. I like the color.”

They walked into the main building, where there was a big living area and the dining room. The offices were in back.

As they made their way down the hall, Ethan studied the walls, the fit of the windows and looked for anything that needed touch-ups before the camp opened. He’d already walked the property with the job foreman, creating a punch list of things that needed to be finished. From what he could tell, it was all done.

Raoul’s office door stood open. Ethan walked in and found the other man sitting on the corner of his desk, rather than behind it. Josh Golden was there, too. They both looked up when he and Tyler entered.

“Hey, Ethan,” Raoul greeted, standing and holding out his hand. “Thanks for making the drive.”

“No problem.”

The two men shook hands. Ethan turned to Josh and did the same, then put his hands on Tyler’s thin shoulders.

“This is Tyler,” he introduced, pausing before adding, “my son.”

Raoul greeted the boy, while Josh looked as stunned as a cartoon character going off a cliff.

“Your son?” Josh repeated. He mouthed “Who?” over Tyler’s head.

“His mom is Liz Sutton.”

Tyler shook hands with both men, then stared adoringly between Raoul and Josh. “You’re both really famous.”

“I’m better looking,” Josh said easily. “And smarter. Raoul’s kind of homely.”

Raoul grinned. “I could snap you like a twig. If it wouldn’t make a mess, I’d do it right now.”

Tyler stood as if mesmerized by the thrill of the moment.

“What are you doing here?” Ethan asked Josh.

“Talking to Raoul about a pro-am golf tournament. Pia’s been on my ass about it.” Josh hesitated, glanced at Tyler, then cleared his throat. “I mean butt. She’s been on my butt about getting him to sign up. She seems to think people will care that we have some ex-quarterback playing. I think they’ll find it boring.”

“He’s threatened,” Raoul said, settling back on the corner of the desk.

Ethan grinned. “He sure is. Probably scared he won’t be Fool’s Gold’s favorite son.”

Josh frowned at Tyler. “Do you hear a buzzing sound? Not conversation. Something more annoying.”

Tyler laughed.

“I’m playing in the tournament,” Raoul told Josh. “Want to put your money where your mouth is?”

Ethan shook his head. “You might not want to bet against Josh. He’s pretty good at golf.”

“So am I.” Raoul sounded confident. “How about five thousand a stroke? The winner donates the money to the charity of his choice.”

“Done,” Josh said easily. He turned to Ethan. “You playing?”

“No, but now I’ll be watching.” He glanced at Tyler. “We’ll have to talk about who we’re willing to bet on.”

Tyler looked between the two competitors. They were both tall and muscular. Josh was what his name implied—golden. Blond hair, hazel eyes. Raoul was dark. Ethan had worked out with them enough to know they were well matched physically. Each could bench press about three hundred pounds. As could he. But he worked out because he liked it. Sometimes it seemed like Josh and Raoul were in the gym because they had something to prove.

“You’ll pick me,” Josh declared easily and winked at Tyler. “They’re going to talk business for a while. Want me to give you a tour of the place?”

“Sure,” Tyler said eagerly. “You’ve been here before?”

“A few times. You think a guy like Raoul could do this all on his own?”

Tyler laughed.

Raoul sighed. “You’re overcompensating again. Should I feel sorry for your fiancée?”

Josh’s grin turned cocky. “Ask her yourself. She’ll tell you how satisfied she is.”

Josh and Tyler left. Ethan and Raoul settled at the small conference table in the corner, a stack of folders between them.

“Is Josh always like that?” Raoul asked, obviously amused.

“Since he was a kid. Underneath the cocky exterior, Josh is a great guy.”

Raoul nodded. “He’s been a big help with the camp. I’ve never set up anything like this, but his work on the cycling school gave him a lot of good ideas. Not that you need to tell him that I said that.”

“I won’t.” Ethan flipped open the first folder. “We’ve worked through the punch list. I’ll take a look around, but from what my foreman told me, we’re done with the refurbishing.”

“You promised me a camp I’d be proud of,” Raoul told him. “You were right.”

They went through the various projects. The next phase was more bunkhouses and clearing an area for an ice skating rink. Raoul wanted the camp to go year-round. Ethan made notes of what he wanted to double check, including housing for the overnight staff.

“You still thinking of putting in a house for the camp director?” he asked.

Raoul shrugged. “I would, but Dakota said she’s not interested in living on-site. She prefers her place back in town.”

Ethan studied the detailed map of the camp. “There’s plenty of room for a couple of houses, if you decide you want to stay here all year.”

“I’m with your sister. I’d rather be in town.”

Ethan chuckled. “Don’t want to give the kids that much access?”

“No. They’d never leave me alone.” Raoul leaned back in his chair. “If I decide I want to build a place instead of buy, would you give me a bid?”

“Sure. Got anywhere in mind?”

“I’m looking at a few lots. There are a couple of old houses that have potential, but they’d need gutting or close.”

“I can do either.” Ethan closed the folder. “You sure you want to settle in a small town? Fool’s Gold is pretty different from Dallas.”

“I like it here,” Raoul admitted. “I’ve traveled a lot, seen most of the world. I’m looking for a home base. Something permanent.”

Ethan would guess Raoul was in his early thirties. His football career had been a stunning success, so money wouldn’t be a problem. “I have three sisters,” he said lightly. “Stay away from them.”

Raoul laughed. “Spoken like an older brother.”

“You got that right. Besides, there are plenty of other women in town. A lot more women than men, in fact.”

“I’ve noticed that. Lots of pretty ones, too. Anyone else you want to warn me about?”

Ethan thought of Liz, her shiny red hair, the scent of her skin, the way she tasted when he kissed her. He remembered her passion, her cries as she came, the flash of anger in her green eyes as she’d pointed out that what they’d done was fifty kinds of stupid.

The memories were enough to heat his blood. He found himself wanting to see her again. No. Not see. Make love. Slowly, this time. In a bed, with plenty of time to remember and even more to explore.

A wanting complicated by their past, Tyler and anger.

“There’s no one,” he said.

Raoul’s gaze seemed to see more than it should. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

* * *

LIZ CHECKED HER LIST, BEFORE turning her cart toward the checkout line. Pia had called a couple hours ago about the girls’ night in. When Liz had tried to beg off, saying she didn’t want to leave the kids by themselves, Pia had offered to move the party to Liz’s place. Liz had been so unprepared for that suggestion, she hadn’t figured out a way to say no. In a matter of seconds, she’d gone from unwilling participant to hostess. It was a move that would make any four-star general proud.

At least it was a distraction, Liz thought. There was no way she could panic about what to serve and think about Roy while worrying about Ethan. Her brain simply wasn’t that big.

She got in line behind an older woman and wondered if she should buy another bag of ice. Pia had said everyone would bring plenty of liquor. Liz only had to provide snacks. Someone named Jo would bring the blender. But blender drinks required a lot of ice.

She eased out of line and started to turn toward the freezer case, when a woman in her fifties, someone Liz had never met, stopped her.

“Are you Liz Sutton?” she asked, looking more annoyed than friendly.

Liz hesitated. “Yes.”

“I thought I recognized you. I’m friends with Denise Hendrix and I wanted to tell you that I think what you did is just awful. What kind of mother keeps her child from his father? There’s no excuse for that. You hurt a wonderful family with your selfishness. I hope you’re happy now.”

“Not so much,” Liz murmured as the other woman stomped away.

Still astounded by the encounter, she grabbed a second bag of ice, and returned to the checkout line. As she stood there, she felt as if everyone was staring at her, judging her.

“Hateful old cow,” she muttered quietly, wishing the name-calling would make her feel better. It didn’t.

When the clerk announced the total, Liz picked up her wallet and pulled out the bills.

There should have been over one hundred dollars, but instead there were only three twenties and a single five. She frowned, sure she’d checked her cash before she’d left the house, but obviously not. She shoved the money back into her wallet and zipped a credit card through the machine.

The girls were home by the time she arrived at the house and Tyler had returned, as well. They competed for her attention as they talked about their day. She listened and nodded, doing her best to keep smiling, to forget the woman at the grocery store and not get lost in thinking about Ethan, either. Which was tough with Tyler starting every sentence with, “And then my dad…”

She got the food put away, chicken breasts in the oven for the kids and explained about the women coming over that evening.

“I thought the three of you could go to the video store and rent movies for tonight,” she suggested.

Abby and Tyler agreed. Melissa tilted her head.

“Maybe I could stay with you,” she said. “You know, not with the kids.”

Abby and Tyler rolled their eyes. “We’re not kids,” Abby chided. “And you’re not all that grown-up. You’re only fourteen.”

“I’m a teenager,” Melissa reminded her.

Liz didn’t know what exactly happened at girls’ night in, but she knew there was a lot of drinking.

“How about if you stay for the first half hour,” she suggested. “While everyone is getting here. Then you can go upstairs.”

“Fine,” Melissa conceded with a sigh. “But I’m very mature.”

“I know, honey. You did a great job while you were alone.” She hesitated, then asked the girls to sit at the table. “I want to talk about your dad.”

Tyler hovered by Liz. “Should I go upstairs?” he asked in a loud whisper.

She nodded. “I’ll explain all of this later.”

“Okay,” he said, and ducked out of the room.

She settled across from the girls who were huddled together, shoulders touching, identical fearful expressions in their eyes.

“I saw your dad today,” she began. “He really misses both of you and said to tell you how much he loves you.”

“Did you tell him about Bettina?” Melissa asked.

“I did. He was angry and hurt, but so proud of you for taking care of your sister. I explained how you got in touch with me and he was really impressed.”

Melissa looked both pleased and afraid. “He’s not coming home, is he?”

Liz reached across the table and took their hands in hers. “No, honey, he’s not. He’s going to be at Folsom for a while longer.” She drew in a breath. “I’m going to be taking care of you.”

Abby and Melissa exchanged another glance.

“I want to see my dad,” Abby said.

“In a couple weeks we’ll go for a visit. And your dad said he’d write you.”

They both nodded. Abby’s eyes filled with tears. Before Liz could go to her, she pushed back her chair and ran up the stairs.

“I’ll talk to her,” Melissa declared, sounding far older than fourteen.

Liz wanted to ask who would take care of Melissa, but knew this wasn’t the time. Damn Bettina, whoever she was, and Roy for getting in trouble in the first place. He’d been impulsive when he’d been younger and it didn’t sound like that had changed. Unfortunately, now his daughters had to pay the price.

She checked on the chicken, then went through the list of snack foods she’d bought. There were different cheeses, some frozen bruschetta she would heat after the chicken was done, chips, salsa, avocados for guacamole. She’d bought boxes of crackers, various cookies, the ingredients for a quick seven-layer bean dip and a presliced veggie plate. If Pia and her friends wanted something fancier, they were going to have to give Liz more than four hours’ notice.

She climbed the stairs and went into the master bedroom. She kept her clothes here and shared the master bath with her son. After going through the few items of clothing she’d brought with her, she picked a dark green wrap shirt made out of one of those amazing fabrics that never wrinkled. She changed her shirt, decided her jeans were fine, and replaced her Ryka walking shoes with cute flat sandals.

Tyler and Abby walked into the bedroom. The young girl looked a little puffy around the eyes, but otherwise fine.

“We’re going to get the movies,” Tyler announced. “Is that okay, Mom?”

“Sure.” She gave him a twenty and smiled at Abby. “You’d probably like something funny for tonight.”

Her niece nodded, then barreled toward Liz and threw herself into her embrace. Liz hugged her tightly.

“I know it’s scary right now,” she whispered. “But I’m going to take care of you.”

Abby nodded and stepped back.

“We’ll be right back,” Tyler called as they headed for the stairs.

“Get something funny,” Liz yelled after him from the doorway.

“Oh, Mom.”

Liz grinned and returned to the bedroom.

She pinned back her hair, then washed her face before smoothing on moisturizer. Melissa inched into the bedroom.

“Abby’s better,” she said. “This is hard on her.”

“On you, too.”

Melissa shrugged.

Liz opened her zipped cosmetic bag. She pulled out concealer and smoothed the cream under her eyes, then blended with her ring finger. The mineral base she used went on next. When she’d covered her freckles and blended the color, she dug in the bag for her eye shadow.

“How do you know what to do?” Melissa asked. “I bought some makeup at the drugstore. You know, before. I couldn’t get it right. Plus, I didn’t like how that liquid stuff felt on my skin.”

Liz glanced at her niece. At fourteen Melissa was old enough to wear some makeup. At least mascara and a little lip gloss. The girl’s skin was smooth and had that glow older women spent a fortune trying to duplicate.

“A base is for smoothing out the color of your skin and hiding imperfections,” Liz told her. “Your skin is practically perfect.”

“Unless I get a zit.”

“They happen. As for the rest of it, I learned by doing, mostly. We can practice together this weekend. The basics aren’t hard.”

“Really?” Melissa looked both hopeful and almost afraid. As if anticipating anything good was a mistake.

“Sure.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Liz dug around in her bag again and pulled out a tube of gloss. “In the meantime, try this. It’s one of my favorites.”

Melissa took the container and turned it over in her hand. “Sugar cookie?”

“Oh, yeah. It looks good and tastes better. Sometimes it’s very cool to be a girl.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

LIZ GOT THE KIDS FED, THE movie started and the frozen bruschetta in the oven. The schedule was tight enough that she didn’t have time to let her nerves get out of control, which was good. Well before she was ready, her doorbell rang and it didn’t stop for about twenty minutes.

Nearly a dozen women piled into the cramped living room. She already knew Pia. Jo Torelli was new. Jo owned the local bar and was a relatively recent transplant to town. The Hendrix triplets arrived together and Liz was relieved they seemed relatively friendly. Before she could do more than say hello, Pia walked in with Crystal Danes.

Liz remembered the pretty blonde from high school. “It’s so great to see you,” she said with a laugh.

Crystal smiled and hugged Liz. “Hmm, I thought you’d be sending me a cut of your royalties. Who do I talk to about that?”

Pia glanced between them. “I didn’t know the two of you were friends. Crystal was three years ahead of me in high school, so she was what? Two years ahead of you, Liz?”

Crystal linked arms with Liz and grinned. “I met Liz in our senior creative writing class. Even though she was a lowly sophomore, our teacher thought she had talent and invited her.”

Crystal had been the only student who would speak to Liz. All the others had resented her presence and basically ignored her. A few of the girls had made mean comments about Liz’s clothes, while two of the guys had hounded her about her reputation.

But in the creative writing class, Liz had done her best to ignore all that. She’d found she could forget everything in the writing process.

Each of the students had to write a short story every three weeks, then read it aloud. The first time, Liz had been terrified. While the teacher had offered glowing praise, the class had been silent when she’d finished. Feeling embarrassed and exposed, Liz had slunk back to her seat.

But at lunch that day, Crystal had sought her out and told her the story was amazing. That the other students had been silent out of shock, or maybe jealousy. Crystal had encouraged her to keep writing.

Four years later, when she was alone with a baby and terrified in San Francisco, she’d remembered Crystal’s words and had signed up for a writing class. While she’d begun with another short story, eventually it had become a novel which had turned into her first published book and the beginning of her professional writing career.

“Crystal told me I had talent,” Liz admitted. “No one had believed in me before.”

Crystal squeezed her arm and laughed. “I’m an angel in disguise. Now if only I could perform a miracle or two on myself, right?”

Liz didn’t know what she was talking about, but she saw pain flash through Pia’s eyes and Jo turned away, as if uncomfortable with the words.

Crystal didn’t seem to notice. Instead she released Liz and smiled at Melissa. “Hello. Do you have any idea where the snacks are? I’m starving.”

“Right in here,” Melissa said shyly. “I can show you.”

“That would be great.”

They walked away. Before Liz could ask what Crystal’s comment had meant, Jo held up a very industrial-looking blender.

“I need a plug and some counter space,” she announced. “I’m saying upfront that while I disapprove of fruit drinks on principle, I’m making an exception tonight. I’ve come up with a mango-strawberry margarita that is going to make you all worship me.”

“I’m glad I bought extra ice,” Liz told her as she led the way into the kitchen. “I’ll get glasses. Will everyone have margaritas?”

“Not me,” Crystal declined as she walked into the kitchen behind Jo.

“I’ll make yours without tequila,” Jo said easily.

“You’re very good to me.”

“Don’t let word get out.”

Crystal laughed, then picked up a tray of veggies. “Should I take these out to everyone?”

As she turned, the light caught her full in the face. Liz was shocked to see dark shadows under her eyes and a gray cast to her skin. It hadn’t been noticeable in the kinder light of the living room, but under the glaring fluorescents, she looked drawn and sick.

Liz did her best to keep her shock from showing. “That would be great,” she responded. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Oh, and Melissa went upstairs. I think we scared her, which makes me feel bad.”

When Crystal had returned to the living room, Jo glanced at Liz, obviously reading her expression. “Crystal’s sick. Cancer. She’s been fighting awhile, but she’s not winning.”

Liz felt as if someone had hit her in the gut. “Oh my God. No. She’s too young.”

“Cancer doesn’t seem to care about that. You okay?”

Liz nodded, although her stomach churned, as if she was going to be sick.

Jo picked up a pitcher of mix and dumped it over the ice in the blender, then poured in a generous amount of tequila. “Prepare to watch the lights dim,” she called and turned on the blender.

Less than a minute later, Liz was pouring the slushy concoction into glasses. She took them into the living room where the other women had claimed seats on the worn sofa and the floor. Someone had pulled in battered chairs from the dining room. She did her best to smile and keep things normal. Everyone else was. Apparently that’s how Crystal wanted things.

Dakota and Nevada sat together; but Montana jumped up the second Liz entered.

“I was telling everyone about the signing.”

Pia rolled her eyes. “Montana, I swear. You’re as subtle as an elephant. We agreed not to bug Liz about the signing.”

Crystal looked up from her place nestled in the corner of the couch. “Don’t you like signings?” she asked.

“I’m not sure how long I’m going to be here,” Liz admitted.

Conversation shifted to events in town. There was talk of the new hospital being built and rumors about ex-football star Raoul Moreno moving to town.

“He’s very good-looking,” Montana said with a sigh.

“Interested?” her sister Dakota asked.

“Not for me, but maybe we could fix him up with Liz and she would be so grateful, she’d do the signing.”

Pia groaned and leaned back against the wall. “You have a one-track mind.”

Dakota laughed. “She’s the stubborn one. And before any of the rumors get out of hand, yes, Raoul is thinking of settling here in Fool’s Gold. He likes the small-town feel.”

Topics shifted to other people, the general lack of men and what was being done about bringing more of them to town. Charity Jones, the new city planner, was teased about capturing the heart of Josh Golden, the last great eligible bachelor. Although everyone seemed comfortable with Raoul Moreno claiming the title. Liz thought about pointing out that Ethan was single, but was afraid it would stir up memories of their very public breakup all those years ago.

The talk was comfortable, if not exactly familiar, Liz thought. Growing up, she’d never felt as if she were part of the community, but maybe some of that was her fault. Sitting in the living room where she’d lived, getting slightly buzzed on margaritas, hanging out with women she hadn’t seen in years, she felt a sense of loss. That maybe the friends she’d been looking for all those years ago had been right in front of her. If only she’d bothered to look.

Not Pia, she thought, watching the now charming woman laugh at something Crystal said. Their relationship had been a little too “mean girl” for her liking. But what about Crystal or even Ethan’s sisters?

Her experiences in high school had made her cautious about making friends with other women. But maybe she’d been too quick to walk away from something important. Something she’d realized she was missing.

Her gaze slipped to Crystal who, despite her illness, appeared happy and content. Talk about having character. Liz had a feeling she was more the curl-up-and-whimper type.

“Am I allowed to ask how you started writing?” Montana inquired, interrupting Liz’s thoughts. “That’s not the same as talking about the signing.”

Liz laughed. “You’re right. It’s not even close.”

“Tell her it’s because of me you’re famous,” Crystal called out.

“It’s true,” Liz agreed. “Crystal told me I had talent and to never forget that.”

Pia was next to her friend and grabbed her hand. “You’re such a good person. It’s intimidating. Tell me again, why do I like you?”

Everyone laughed.

“Seriously,” Montana pressed. “How did you start?”

“I wrote a short story about a man who was murdered and found I couldn’t let the idea go,” Liz explained. “It kept getting bigger in my mind.”

She left out the part about the cathartic nature of killing Ethan over and over again. At least in fiction. It was kind of a writer thing and she doubted anyone else would understand that it didn’t mean she was dangerous or creepy.

“I was alone with a baby and I couldn’t afford cable,” she continued. “Writing felt like a way to escape the pressure.”

Crystal turned to her. “Where did you go when you left here?”

“San Francisco.”

Liz had the feeling there were going to be more questions but just then Jo appeared with another pitcher of margaritas and the conversation shifted to the various summer festivals. Montana grinned at Liz.

“If you would just agree to sign,” she began, “we would have the best festival ever.”

It was one book signing, Liz thought. She did them all the time. So what if it was here? She could handle a couple of hours at a table, talking to her fans. And Liz appreciated that Montana was the only Hendrix still speaking to her.

“Sure,” she said.

Montana straightened. “Seriously?”

“Why not? I’d love to.”

Even if she wasn’t still living in Fool’s Gold, she could drive in for the day. Tyler could hang out with his dad, her nieces could see their friends and then they would all go back to San Francisco, where life was normal and people standing in the grocery store didn’t know anything about you.

An hour later, Liz went to check on the kids. As she stood, she had to steady herself for a second. Her balance felt off—apparently she’d been drinking more than she’d realized. At the bottom of the stairs, she paused as a burst of loud laughter filled the room. She grinned. She wasn’t the only one who was feeling the alcohol. Good thing everyone was walking home.

After confirming all three of her charges were totally engrossed in their movie, she returned to the kitchen, opened the last few packages of cookies and dumped them on two plates. Normally she would arrange them neatly, but right now that seemed impossible.

Pia walked into the kitchen. “I don’t know how Crystal stands us. She’s the only one not drinking.”

Liz looked up, her sense of contentment fading. “Jo mentioned she was sick.”

“She’s dying,” Pia said flatly. “Today she doesn’t look like it, but she is. They’ve given her less than six months. She’s working with hospice. This is the first time she’s been out of her apartment in a week. She’s living on painkillers.”

“I’m sorry,” Liz whispered, the gut-clenching returning.

“Me, too. She’s a good friend.” Pia drew in a breath. “I don’t want to talk about it. Knowing I’m losing her is impossible and makes me cry. As drunk as I am, I probably won’t stop for hours and no one wants that. Least of all Crystal.”

Liz nodded and had to swallow before she could speak. “Are you up to carrying in a plate of cookies?”

Pia eyed the plate doubtfully. “What happens if I drop them?”

“They fall?”

She smiled. “I can make an effort.” But instead of reaching for the plate, she leaned against a counter. “Why didn’t you come back? When you found out you were pregnant?”

Not a question Liz wanted to answer. “It wasn’t an option.”

“Of course it was. Even if your mom wouldn’t have taken you in, there was still Ethan and his family. You shouldn’t have kept his kid from him. It wasn’t very nice.”

It was one thing to be yelled at by an older woman she didn’t know, but it was quite another to have Pia O’Brian passing judgments on her.

“And that’s the whole story?” Liz asked, trying to stay calm and keep her voice low.

Pia rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. It’s not as if you tried to tell him.”

“You’re wrong,” Liz told her, planting her hands on her hips. “I did come back. Pretty much as soon as I found out I was pregnant. I’d been gone all of three weeks. You’d think after how in love he claimed to be he would have waited to replace me, but no. He was in his little apartment over the garage. Naked. In bed with someone.” She narrowed her gaze. “He was in bed with you, Pia.”

Pia slipped and had to grab onto the counter to stay upright. Her mouth dropped open. “No,” she breathed.

“Am I wrong?”

Pia winced. “I did get him into bed, but it’s not what you think.”

“You weren’t trying to have sex with him?”

“Okay, yes. It was that, but I…” Pia shook her head, then swore. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

Liz waited. “Didn’t mean what? To take him?”

“You were gone. Plus, I wasn’t completely sure the two of you were actually dating. Josh said something that one time and Ethan denied everything.”

Not an afternoon Liz cared to remember. It had been difficult enough working as a waitress in the one place the popular kids liked to hang out, but it had been sheer torture being there when Ethan came home from college and they started seeing each other. They’d both agreed it was better if no one knew about them. He had his family’s reputation to think about. After all, he was a Hendrix.

Liz had been young enough and foolish enough to think that was a good reason to slink around behind everyone’s back. Today she wouldn’t bother. Either a man wanted to be with her or he didn’t. But back then she’d been so grateful to have someone care about her. Especially Ethan.

Ethan who was accepted everywhere he went. Ethan who had a family that was always sober and kind and respectable. Ethan’s mother didn’t show up at the grocery store drunk and talk about being with other women’s husbands.

Liz had never actually met Ethan’s father, but she heard him speak once, at a fundraiser to refurbish the city park. He’d been stern, but eloquent as he talked about duty and responsibility and how as citizens of the town, everyone had to participate and give of themselves. She’d been drawn to the man and intimidated. After seeing him, she knew why Ethan didn’t want anyone to know they were involved. Ralph Hendrix wouldn’t have approved.

Then Josh had mentioned seeing the two of them together and another friend had called her a whore. Ethan had not only denied they were dating, he’d said he wasn’t so desperate as to need to be with someone like her.

Pouring a milk shake over his head and walking out hadn’t healed the wound in her heart.

She didn’t want to remember any of this, Liz thought grimly. She didn’t want to be here, dealing with her past. The people, the memories, her complete inability to feel as if she’d made progress emotionally were just a few of the reasons she’d never wanted to come back.

“Your relationship with Ethan doesn’t matter,” she stated, turning away from Pia. “My point is, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about when it comes to my son, and you need to remember that.”

“I’m sorry.”

Liz nodded.

“I mean that. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Liz declared facing her again, trying not to see the regret in Pia’s eyes.

Pia opened her mouth, then closed it. “I really am sorry,” she whispered, then walked out of the kitchen, leaving Liz alone.

If the buzzing in Liz’s head wasn’t enough to tell her that she wasn’t going to have a good time come morning, the tightness in her chest hinted that a hangover might very well be the least of her problems.

Damn this town, she thought as she grabbed the cookies and braced herself to return to the party.

* * *

LIZ WOKE UP WITH A MILDER headache than she deserved and a determination to put together a plan to get out of Fool’s Gold as quickly as possible. The house was the biggest problem. What to do with it. Keeping it for the girls was a possibility. As a rental, it could provide income and the value would increase over time. Although that would require fixing up the place. Selling it presented the same fix-up dilemma. Maybe the best place to start was to speak with a Realtor. Get some actual numbers and see what made the most sense.

As much as she wanted to pack her car and run, she knew she couldn’t. There were Roy’s girls to think of. Melissa and Abby wouldn’t want to move. They’d already lost their dad and stepmom. Their home was all they had.

But she couldn’t stay here, she thought, feeling desperate. It was a twisted kind of hell for her. Which meant what? Endure the town as long as she could and give the girls more time to adjust to her and moving?

Not a decision she could make without a second cup of coffee.

She made her way to the kitchen. Melissa was on the phone with one of her friends and Abby had gone next door to play. Tyler was with his father. She got out the phone book and called a couple real estate offices from her cell.

An hour later, she’d confirmed what she’d already guessed. No one would commit without seeing the house in person, but the consensus was for rental property and fixing up was required. A sale could be “as is” but that seriously cut down on the number of interested buyers as well as the price.

Liz had a feeling the house was all the girls could expect to get from their father. Her gut said that fixing it up and then renting it made the most sense. Let the property value increase while Melissa and Abby were growing. If they wanted to sell it later, they could. She could even pay for the renovations herself.

She got out a pad of paper and started making a list. She would have to get an attorney to draw up a title transfer. Roy had said he wanted to put the house in the girls’ names. Fortunately, Bettina wasn’t on the title, so she wasn’t going to be a complication.

Liz wandered back into the kitchen for more coffee, then headed for her computer. Maybe she could get in a couple of pages before Abby and Tyler returned.

Her timing was off. She’d barely clicked on her word processing program when her son flew into the house. He bounced onto the sofa next to her, then threw his arms around her.

“How are you?” she asked, hugging him back and kissing his forehead.

“Good. Dad had doughnuts and he only let me eat two. And I saw the new designs for a windmill. Dad says it’s going to be more energy efficient. And he really liked the card I gave him.”

Tyler continued to relive his morning in real time. Nearly every other sentence began with “Dad says.” Liz told herself this was all good news, even as she felt a little less important in her son’s life.

A fleeting emotion, she told herself. One that would pass.

“Then Dad said it was your fault that I don’t know him because you kept me from him. Dad says you were wrong not to let us be together.”

Liz nearly fell out of her chair. “Excuse me?” she asked.

Tyler’s eyes got big and he looked worried. “He wasn’t mad when he said it, Mom. Don’t be mad.”

Don’t be mad? Don’t be mad when she was doing everything she could to bring father and son together and Ethan was going behind her back, trying to make her look guilty? Had he bothered to mention how badly he’d treated her twelve years ago? Or the fact that she’d come back to tell him about his kid and his wife had been the one to keep them apart? Of course not.

“It’s fine, I was just surprised,” she said, forcing a smile. She glanced at her watch. “I thought we’d go to the pool later. And Montana wants me to bring you by the library to look at some new books they got in.”

His face brightened. “Can we go now?”

“Sure. Why don’t you tell Melissa, so she knows. And I want to make a quick call.”

“Okay.”

He raced upstairs. When she heard his feet thundering overhead, she picked up her cell and Ethan’s business card. She was put through to him immediately.

“We have to talk,” she said by way of greeting. “Now.”

He hesitated. “I have an appointment.”

“I don’t give a damn.”

“Okay. Starbucks in fifteen minutes?”

“Fine.” She hung up.

* * *

SHE LEFT TYLER WITH MONTANA at the library and promised to be back in half an hour. What she had to say wouldn’t take more than a few minutes.

Ethan was already sitting outside when she got there. An umbrella shaded him from the bright sun.

“What’s up?” he asked, looking tall and handsome and annoyingly confused. “You sounded upset.”

She ignored the way her body reacted to the sight of him, not wanting to remember what being with him had been like. Better that she remembered all the ways she’d killed him in her books. And the even more painful way she would kill him in the next one. It was what he deserved, the bastard.

“What were you thinking?” she began. “We’re supposed to be working together. At least that’s what you said. I’ll accept that you’re mad at me. Fine. But don’t you dare talk about me with my son. You had no right to tell him it was my fault that you and Tyler don’t know each other and that I was wrong to keep him from you. Do you think you’re helping your cause? Not only does it make me regret ever coming back, it makes me know I can’t trust you at all.”

His body tensed. “He told you.”

“Of course he told me. I’m his mother. He tells me everything.” She was fighting blinding fury. “Did it make you feel all manly to crap all over me in front of my kid?”

“No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. We were talking about what he usually does in the summer and on his birthday and all I could think was how much I’d missed. I lost it.”

“Not much of an excuse,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice low. “Do you think you can come between Tyler and me?”

“No. That’s not what I was trying to do.” He stared into her eyes. “I swear, Liz, I’m sorry. I reacted. It was stupid.”

“You say that to me, but did you bother saying it to Tyler?” She waited. He shook his head. “Figures. You’re playing us, Ethan. And that’s a huge mistake. No one will win that game.”

“I’m not trying to come between you.”

She held his gaze. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Probably not.” He sucked in a breath. “I was mad.”

“You’re mad all the time.”

“I have a good reason.”

She leaned toward him. “Yes, you do. And you also know I’m not as much the devil as you first thought.”

“I’m sorry, Liz. I was an idiot,” he apologized, sounding as if he meant it.

It was easier to believe that rather than think he was deliberately trying to undermine her, but easier didn’t necessarily mean right.

“You want me punished,” she said, her voice quieter. “You need to get over that.”

He drew in a breath. “I know.”

* * *

ETHAN DID KNOW, BUT SOMETIMES it was damn hard not to react. He’d lost so much and even though it wasn’t all Liz’s fault, it was tough not to blame her.

She stared at him, her green eyes flashing with anger, her mouth set with determination. She would take him on, if necessary. He wanted to say she couldn’t win, but he wasn’t sure that was true. She had eleven years’ worth of a relationship with Tyler. He’d known his kid all of two weeks.

Bitterness threatened, but he pushed it away. She was right—he had to think before he spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

She sighed. “I guess I have to at least pretend to believe you.”

“You could try actually believing me.”

“Don’t push it.”

“I was wrong.”

“Yes, you were.” She shook her head. “Okay. I’ll do my best to let it go. Just don’t do that again. We have to work together. If we don’t, the person who gets hurt the most is Tyler. You’re everything he’s ever wanted. You don’t have to destroy me in order to make him love you.”

Ethan stiffened. “That’s not what I was doing.”

“Wasn’t it?”

He hesitated. “Maybe. This is really new for me. I’m reacting, rather than thinking.”

“I’m doing my best to understand that.”

She sounded as if she didn’t want to, which irritated him. Then he told himself it was time to stop being angry. Liz was right—they did have to work together.

“I’d better get back to the library,” she said. “I don’t want your sister thinking I’ve abandoned Tyler.”

He pushed to his feet, then grabbed her hand.

Her fingers were warm. Touching her reminded him of the last time they’d been together. Of how, despite everything, the passion was still there, lurking. Heating. Making him want in a way he hadn’t in a long time. There had been other women. He’d even gotten married. But there had been no one like Liz.

Something hot flared in her eyes. She gave him a brief smile. “You’re trouble. You know that, right?”

He grinned. “One of my best qualities.”

“A debate for another time.”

He thought about kissing her, about leaning in and tasting her again.

A complication neither of them needed, he told himself as she squeezed his fingers then walked away. There were still too many other issues to work through. But he wouldn’t say no to more alone time with her, he thought, watching her walk away.

“What was that all about?”

He turned and saw his mother walking toward him. She had a shopping bag in each hand.

He took the bags from her and set them on a chair. “Liz and I were talking about Tyler.”

His mother’s gaze sharpened as she studied his face. “Is that all? It looked like more to me. You’re not starting something with her, are you, Ethan? After what she did to you? To all of us?”

His reaction was instinctive. “Don’t worry. Liz doesn’t matter to me at all. There’s nothing between us.”

“It’s good to know that some things never change.”

But the words weren’t spoken by his mother. He turned to his right and saw Liz standing just behind him. Her expression was unreadable, but he saw a flash of pain in her eyes.

“In case I was wondering,” she added, picking up the keys she’d left on the table.

She turned on her heel and was gone.

CHAPTER NINE

LIZ WAS STILL SHAKING AS SHE climbed the three steps to the library. She told herself it didn’t matter. That Ethan had to say that to Denise. It wasn’t as if his mother was a fan. Besides, there wasn’t anything else to tell the woman. But in her gut, Liz felt just as dismissed and hurt as she had twelve years before—when Ethan had denied their relationship to all his friends.

She might have had a child with him, and slept with him and still be fighting feelings from the past, but the bottom line was, she couldn’t trust him. Not ever. He couldn’t escape his family name and reputation anymore than she could.

She reached for the front door and pulled it open. A woman with a stroller smiled. “Thanks for the help,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”

The twenty-something woman pushed the stroller through the door, then turned back.

“Are you Liz Sutton? I thought I recognized your picture from your books.”

Liz nodded cautiously.

The woman’s warm smile faded. “My sister went to high school with you. When she told me that you were the class slut, I didn’t want to believe her. But now that I’ve heard what you did to poor Ethan Hendrix, I know every word is true. I’ll never read your books again.”

Hit number three, Liz thought, standing in the sunlight, determined not to go inside until she was sure she wasn’t going to cry.

She told herself the young mother didn’t know her. That other people’s opinions had no meaning. That the truth was much less clear than most people realized. All of which was bullshit, she thought, finally stepping into the cool darkness of the library.

As soon as they got back to the house, she was getting out the phone book, she promised herself. She would get bids on fixing up the house and pay whatever premium was required to get the work done quickly. When the house was finished, she would take the girls and Tyler, return to San Francisco and never, ever come back to this hellhole.

* * *

THE ONLY BRIGHT SPOT IN AN otherwise hideous morning had been Montana’s enthusiasm over the book signing. Ethan’s sister had insisted on showing Liz the initial design for the posters and all the Internet postings. Montana swore people would drive into town from hundreds of miles away, just to meet Liz and have her sign books. Liz was less sure of her popularity, but it beat being verbally spit at by the locals.

She helped Tyler carry his armload of books into the house. He’d picked out several he thought Abby might like, which Liz appreciated. After sending him to his room to play computer games for an hour, she called Melissa and Abby into the living room.

The two girls sat on the sofa. They looked impossibly young, she thought, wishing things had been different for them. However much she might currently hate her own life, what Abby and Melissa were feeling was ten times worse. They were just kids who didn’t deserve what had happened to them.

She sat on the coffee table in front of the couch and leaned toward the girls.

“I’m going to fix up the house,” she began. “Your dad started a lot of projects, but I don’t know how to finish them. So unless one of you is holding out some secret contractor knowledge, I’ll be hiring a team to finish the work.”

Melissa looked wary, but Abby smiled. “I can help.”

“I’m sure you can.”

“What happens after the house is finished?” Melissa asked.

Not the question Liz wanted to answer. “We’re going back to San Francisco.”

Melissa and Abby exchanged a look. Tears filled Abby’s eyes while Melissa started shaking her head.

“No, we’re not,” she announced. “We’re staying here. We live here.”

“I know it will be hard,” Liz began.

“It doesn’t have to be.” Melissa stood up. Her face was red, her eyes bright with tears she blinked away. “We’ll run away. We don’t need you.”

Abby stood, too, then leaned into Liz who hugged her close.

“I’m sorry,” Liz murmured into her hair, hanging on tight. “I’m sorry.”

“W-what does Dad say?” Abby asked in a whisper.

“That you’re going to stay with me.”

Abby raised her head. “He doesn’t want us, does he? No one wants us.”

“I want you,” Liz assured, wishing she had the power to take away their pain and make them feel safe. “No matter what, we’ll be together. Your dad being in prison isn’t about you. It’s about him. If he wasn’t there, he’d still be here.”

“With us. Where we belong,” Melissa snapped. “In our house. You’re going to sell it, aren’t you? And take all the money.”

Liz continued to hold Abby, but turned her attention to the teenager. “I’m going to fix it up. Then the three of us will sit down with a real estate agent and discuss the benefits of renting it versus selling outright. Either way the money will go into trust for both of you. For when you’re older. This isn’t about taking anything from you and I think you know that.”

“You’re taking away everything,” Melissa said, losing her battle with the tears. They spilled down her cheeks. She brushed them away and glared at Liz. “You can’t do this to us.”

“Tyler and I can’t stay here. San Francisco isn’t so far away. You’ll be able to visit your friends.”

“How?” Melissa asked.

“Tyler will be coming back to see his dad. You can come with him. I’m not trying to make this worse. We need to settle in to being a family. I want that. You girls are important to me.”

“I’m not going,” Melissa said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You can’t make me.”

Abby stared at Liz. “I want to be with you.”

Liz kissed her forehead. “I’m glad. I want you to keep in touch with your friends. We’ll work on that. Okay?”

Abby nodded.

“She’s lying,” Melissa told her sister. “She doesn’t care about us at all.”

“If she didn’t care, she’d just leave,” Abby noted, still holding on to Liz. “Like Bettina did. We don’t have a choice. There’s no one else.”

The simple words spoken with the wisdom of a child, broke Liz’s heart. No eleven-year-old should have to be so keenly aware of life’s unpleasant realities. Tyler was the same age and he didn’t know anything about how the dark side of the world operated.

“I want to make it work,” Liz reiterated to Melissa.

“I’m not leaving,” Melissa told her and walked out.

“She’ll get over it,” Abby said, stepping back. “It’ll take a while, but she will. She was scared when we were alone before.”

“Weren’t you?”

“Yeah, but I had someone taking care of me. She didn’t have anyone.”

“I’m sorry,” Liz apologized. “I wish I’d known about you before.”

“Me, too.”

* * *

AFTER LUNCH, THE FOUR OF THEM went to the community pool. They found a cool spot in the shade. Liz leaned against a tree, opened her laptop and prayed for inspiration. Technically her deadline was generous enough that she wasn’t exactly behind. Not yet. But give it another few weeks and she would feel the panic.

While her computer booted up, she gazed around the pool, taking in the other mothers and kids. Most of them seemed to know each other. One of the blessings—and curses—of small-town life.

She turned her attention to Tyler, spotting him easily from years of practice, then finding Melissa and Abby. Their red hair made them stand out in the crowd. A good thing, she told herself. After the morning she’d had, she was due for a break or two.

The streak didn’t last. Five seconds later, someone spoke her name.

“Liz.”

She didn’t have to look up to recognize Ethan, who was very possibly the last person she wanted to see right now. Or ever.

“Tyler told me that you’d be here after lunch.”

She kept her gaze firmly on her screen. With practiced ease, she opened her word processing program, then loaded the book in progress.

He dropped to the grass next to her. “Did I mention that I’m sorry?”

Grateful for the big hat she’d pulled on and the sunglasses shielding her eyes, she turned toward him. At least she didn’t have to worry about him seeing she was more hurt than angry. He wouldn’t know about the bitter taste of betrayal on her tongue or the lingering sense of having been hit in the gut.

“I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” he explained.

“Right. So you’re apologizing for me hearing it but not for saying it. Thanks for the clarification.”

His gaze sharpened. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it? It’s what you said.”

“Dammit, Liz, give me a break.”

“Why? You spent the first part of the morning telling Tyler that it’s my fault you and he don’t know each other and the hour before noon telling your mother that I don’t mean anything to you. I wasn’t expecting you to declare I was the love of your life, but a little respect would have been nice.”

“You’re right.”

“But that was too much. Instead you threw me under the bus. I’m not even surprised. You’ve done it before.”

His gaze never left her face. “Why is it you get to tell me to stop bringing up the past, but you get to do it as much as you want?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. She was angry and hurt and didn’t want to admit he had a point. One she was going to ignore.

“We slept together, Ethan. We didn’t plan it, but it happened. We have a child together. You can’t say we’re on the same team to my face, then undermine me every chance you get.”

He drew in a breath. “I know. I’m sorry. I keep saying that and I mean it. Everything is different. Complicated. I’m trying to figure out what happens next.”

“What happens next is we come up with a plan. A way for you to spend time with Tyler.”

“I am spending time with him.”

Despite the fact that he couldn’t see her eyes, she looked away. “For later,” she clarified. “When I go back to San Francisco.”

His jaw tightened and his eyes darkened. “You’re leaving? When?”

“I’m not sure. I want to fix up the house. I’m hiring a contractor to do the work. Then we’re leaving.” She turned back to him and pulled off her sunglasses. “This isn’t about keeping you from Tyler, I swear. We’ll do alternating weekends, share holidays.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“That’s not an option. I can’t live here. I have a life I need to get back to. A job.”

“You can write anywhere.”

“You speak from experience?” she asked, her voice sharp with annoyance. “I hate it here. Everyone is very comfortable getting in my face about my past and they don’t know what they’re talking about. I don’t see anyone blaming you. I want you to know your son. I want you to be a part of things, but whatever plan we come up with isn’t going to include me staying here. When the house is finished, we’re all leaving.”

Ethan stared at her for a long time. She tried to read his expression but couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He wasn’t happy, but it hardly took insight to figure that out.

Finally he stood. “Thanks for the update,” he said at last.

“You’re pissed.”

“You’re stealing him from me. Again.”

“What do I have to do to convince you that’s not what I’m doing? You keep forgetting I’m the one who tried to get you into his life five years ago. I want this to work. But it’s going to have to happen with him living in San Francisco.”

He nodded once and left. Liz checked on all three kids, then leaned against the tree and drew in a breath.

There would be consequences, she thought grimly. With Ethan there were always consequences. He would probably try to convince her to stay. Which was fine. Let him try. But there was nothing he could say or do to keep her in town. And the sooner he figured that out, the better for all of them.

* * *

LIZ STILL WASN’T SLEEPING, SO morning came early. With the kids out of school, she didn’t have to worry about getting them up and ready, but there were other considerations. Mostly that today the construction team would arrive to start the remodeling. Jeff, the burly fifty-something contractor she’d hired, had promised his team would be at her place no later than seven. The fact that they would be done by four each day was minimal comfort.

She had set her travel alarm for six, showered, dressed and made coffee. She was on her second cup when someone knocked on her front door.

She crossed the living room to open it and smiled at the three women and one guy she saw on her porch.

“Right on time,” she began, then blinked several times when she noticed the identical beige T-shirts they wore.

Instead of the ladder and truck logo she’d seen in the phone book, the name “Hendrix Construction” was spelled out in a sturdy font.

“You’re not Jeff’s crew, are you?” she asked already knowing the answer.

The woman closest to the door handed her a cell phone. “Boss said you’d want to talk to him.”

She did her best not to shriek. “How thoughtful of him. If you’ll excuse me?”

She closed the front door, looked at the number already punched into the cell phone, and pushed the send button. He answered on the first ring.

“Don’t take it out on the team,” Ethan said.

“Take what out on the charming construction crew on my front porch?”

“You know. And it’s not Jeff’s fault, either. He owed me.”

“You seem very determined to make sure I blame you,” she countered, her voice low, but still thick with anger. “Don’t worry. I have every intention of making sure you pay for this.”

“Look, you wanted your house fixed up. My team will do a great job.”

She stepped away from the door and clutched the phone tighter. Outrage churned the coffee in her stomach. “Dammit, Ethan. What is wrong with you?”

“I bought out Jeff’s contract. At a premium.”

“I hope he totally screwed you.”

“He made a profit.”

“At least one of us is happy.” She glanced around the run-down house and knew fixing it up wasn’t optional. “Why are you doing this? Is it the thrill of constantly bugging me?”

“I want to know what you’re doing. You’re taking my kid away from me, Liz. I don’t want any surprises.”

“How is any of this a surprise? I told you my plan and made it very clear I want to work things out. I want you to have a relationship with Tyler. Why can’t you believe that?”

“I do. I’m covering my bases. You ran once. You can do it again.”

The unfairness of the accusation made her catch her breath. “I ran after you told all your friends I was some cheap whore you’d never bother with. The night before you’d promised to love me forever.” She grabbed the back of the sofa. “Never mind, Ethan. I totally get it. You can’t be trusted and you assume the world is just like you. Watch me all you want, if it gives you a thrill. I don’t care. I’ve got nothing to hide. But here’s the thing. Some of us do the right thing because it’s what we’ve been taught, while others do it because it’s who they are. I know which side I’m on in that discussion. If you’re worried about how someone is playing this game while hiding his true character, you should look in the mirror.”

She hung up, then crossed to the front door and pulled it open. After handing back the cell phone, she motioned for the crew to come in.

“You might as well get started,” she told them.

It didn’t matter who did the work, she thought as she walked upstairs. The sooner everything was finished, the sooner she could get the hell out of Fool’s Gold.

But the morning surprises weren’t quite over. As she walked into the master bedroom where Tyler was sleeping, she found Melissa standing by her dresser. The teen had Liz’s wallet in her left hand and three twenties in her right.

Their eyes met. Liz had a feeling she looked shocked and more than a little stupid. The mystery of the lost pizza money and the missing bills from her wallet the previous week was suddenly solved. A sense of betrayal battled with the realization that the few months of abandonment had affected Melissa more than she’d let on.

The teen dropped the wallet back into Liz’s purse, let the twenties flutter to the floor as she pushed past Liz and raced out of the room. Liz followed, reaching Melissa’s bedroom door just before the girl could push it closed.

Melissa sat on her bed, her arms folded across her chest, her gaze locked on the floor. Liz pulled over the chair at the desk, then sat down.

“I guess we should talk about this,” she said slowly. “I’m sorry. I should have thought the situation through. You were left with nothing, forced to steal to feed yourself and your sister. I can tell you that you’re safe over and over again, but why should you believe me? You don’t know me from a rock, I’m threatening to take you from your home and your friends. What if I leave like Bettina did? You’d have nothing. Nowhere to go. And there’s Abby. You love her, but she’s a big responsibility. You’re only fourteen. It’s way too much.”

Melissa didn’t speak. Her hair covered most of her face, but Liz saw the tears dropping onto her folded hands.

Liz ached for her. While she knew there had to be consequences for stealing, these were extraordinary circumstances. She wanted to be fair but also supportive.

“How much do you have?” she asked, trying to remember exactly how much was missing.

Melissa swallowed and raised her head. There were tears in her eyes, and a look of both defiance and shame. “One hundred and twenty dollars.”

“Did you have a goal in mind? An amount that would make you feel safe?”

The girl shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe two hundred dollars.”

From a fourteen-year-old’s perspective, that probably was enough. Reality was very different.

“I should be giving you and Abby an allowance,” Liz told her. “I didn’t even think of it. Let’s talk later, when your sister is up. You’ll get it weekly. That will be for spending money.” She hesitated, not sure how to handle the stealing, but determined to do what felt right.

“I’ll give you the rest of the money you need so that you have two hundred dollars. We’ll put it in a safe place that only you and I know about. It will be there to make you feel safe. In return, you’ll stop stealing from me. Agreed?”

The defiance faded. “You’re not mad?”

“I’m disappointed, which is different. I understand why you took the money, but that doesn’t make it right.”

“So I’m still going to be punished.”

Liz hid a smile. “I think it’s important to be consistent.”

“There are always consequences,” Melissa grumbled with a sigh. Her gaze drifted to her nightstand. “Probably my cell phone would be the worst. For…” She sucked in a breath. “A week.”

Her voice was barely a whisper and more tears filled her eyes. Liz felt relief at the words. From what she could tell, Melissa was going to grow up to be an amazing person. She would try to remember that the next time her niece went off on her about the whole moving thing.

“I think two days is plenty,” Liz said. “On one condition.”

“Which is?” Melissa sounded relieved and a little wary.

“We’re going to be staying in town for a few weeks while the work is done on the house. I’ve signed up all three of you for the new day camp. End Zone for Kids. I want you to help me convince Abby and Tyler this will be fun for them.”

Defiance won over relief. “I’m too old for camp. I’m practically in high school.”

“I know,” Liz agreed. “When I called to register Abby and Tyler, I learned they have a program for older kids. It’s sponsored by the university film school. Students are supposed to be in high school to get in, but I convinced them you were mature and more than ready for the experience. I don’t know exactly what’s involved. I think you learn about making movies. Everything from writing scripts to acting. Unless you think that would be too boring.”

Melissa jumped to her feet, her face bright with excitement. “Really? I get to do that? Learn all about it and maybe be in a movie?”

“That’s what they said.”

“I would love that.”

“Good. Then you’ll help with convincing Abby and Tyler?”

“Sure.” Melissa picked up her cell. “I have to call Tiffany and…” The light faded. “I guess I’ll tell them in a couple of days,” she corrected as she handed over the phone.

Liz took it and put it in her pocket. “Thanks. Want to wake up your sister while I tackle Tyler?”

Melissa nodded. “What time do we leave?”

“Eight-thirty. Abby and Tyler are in a computer animation class. I hope they like it.”

“They’ll love it.”

Melissa turned to leave, then came back and hugged Liz. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “About taking the money.”

“Me, too, but I understand why you did it.” She put her hands on the girl’s shoulders. “I’m not going to walk away from you and Abby. I know it’s going to take time, but it would nice if you started to believe me.”

Melissa nodded. “Okay.” Then she left.

Liz watched her go, appreciating the temporary truce. It was just a matter of time until they were fighting about the move. Melissa wasn’t going to give in on that easily. Regardless, it wasn’t a battle the teen was going to win. There was absolutely nothing anyone could say or do to convince Liz that she was staying in Fool’s Gold. She might have to return for the signing and to deliver Tyler to his father every other weekend, but she would do everything in her power to never again call this place home.

* * *

LIZ PICKED OUT HER CHOICE FOR lunch in a matter of minutes. The barbecue chicken salad looked great. It was what to have with it that had her stumped.

“You look determined,” Pia noted from across the table. “Should I be worried?”

Liz forced a smile. With everything going on in her life these days, the last thing she’d wanted to do was have lunch with Pia. But the other woman had insisted and Liz hadn’t been able to say no.

“I’m fine,” she replied, trying to unclench her teeth. “Just a little stressed.”

“How’s it going with Roy’s daughters? Are they having trouble adjusting to you?”

“Among other things.”

Pia looked sympathetic. “I can’t believe you’re going to be taking care of them. They’re young girls. You don’t even know them.”

“They’re family.”

Pia’s blue eyes darkened with an emotion Liz couldn’t read. “Yes, that is important, isn’t it? The whole family connection. I hope they know they’re lucky to have you.”

“I’m planning on moving them to San Francisco. They’re not happy about it—especially Melissa. Right now things are fine, but we’ll be fighting again later.”

The waitress appeared to take their drink orders.

“White wine,” Liz decided firmly. “Chardonnay.”

“Me, too,” Pia said, then grinned when their server left. “I don’t usually indulge in the middle of the day.”

“Me, either. But I’m walking home from here, the kids are taking the bus and I’ve earned it.”

“They’re up at the new camp?”

“Yes. Even Melissa was excited.” Liz told her about the film class.

“Sounds like fun,” Pia commented as their wine was delivered. “Keeps them from getting bored.”

Liz sipped her wine gratefully. “There’s going to be construction in the house. My brother was great at starting projects, but didn’t feel enthused about finishing them. The house needs to be fixed up so we can sell it or rent it out. I haven’t decided.”

“You haven’t been back in years and now you’re dealing with all this,” Pia described, sounding sympathetic. “That can’t be easy.”

“It’s not,” Liz admitted. “Between the unexpected responsibility of my nieces, Tyler getting to know his dad, me having to deal with Ethan and being back in Fool’s Gold, it’s been an active couple of weeks.” She took another sip. “Ethan’s mother hates me.”

“Denise? I doubt that. She likes everyone.”

If only that were true, Liz thought. “She doesn’t like me. She’s angry about me keeping Tyler from Ethan and the family.”

“Well, sure.”

Liz looked at the woman sitting across from her. “Let me pause and bask in your sympathy.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. But from her point of view, she’s lost time. Nothing can make up for that.” Pia held up her hand. “And before you go off on me about sleeping with Ethan right after you left—first, I didn’t know you were actually dating him. Second, nothing happened. He was too drunk that night and we didn’t make a second attempt.”

“You’re saying lack of penetration means it doesn’t count?”

“Something like that.”

Liz was too tired to fight, even with Pia. “I’ll accept the blame for the first six years that were lost, but not after that. I came back again.”

She briefly told Pia about her meeting with Rayanne and the subsequent letter.

Pia’s blue eyes widened. “I can’t believe she did that. I know Rayanne had her problems, but to keep Tyler from Ethan? And then she died without telling him.”

“Why are you surprised? She was never very nice. To me the question is more about why Ethan ever got involved with her.”

“She was pregnant when they got married,” Pia informed, then paused as their salads were delivered.

Pregnant as in they had to get married? Liz waited until the server had left to lean forward. “That’s why they got married?”

“Uh-huh. I think Rayanne had picked out Ethan a while before, but he wasn’t that interested. Then she got pregnant and he wasn’t the kind of guy to walk away.”

Liz ignored the stab of pain at hearing that and refused to wonder if he would have been willing to marry her if he’d found out about Tyler. She knew the answer. After all, Ethan was a Hendrix.

“Then I showed up,” Liz said. “Threatening her happy world.”

“She must have been terrified. Especially if she knew that you and Ethan had been involved before. She would have thought she could lose everything.” Pia looked at her. “You probably think she deserved it. She wasn’t exactly nice to you in high school.”

Neither were you. Liz thought the words, but didn’t say them. Pia was different. Not the same mean girl she’d been back then.

“No one deserves to lose everything,” Liz said at last.

“But it happens.” Pia sipped her wine. “It did to me.”

“What are you talking about.”

“You don’t know? Oh, right. You were gone by then.” Pia shrugged. “My senior year of high school it all fell apart. My dad lost his job.”

“He owned the company, didn’t he?”

“He was president, which isn’t exactly the same thing. It seems sales weren’t as good as he had led the board of directors to believe. He’d also been stealing money for years. Not telling the employees was one thing, but not telling the IRS is another. He was charged with tax evasion, fraud, theft. I can’t remember everything. My mom took off for Florida. I wanted to stay here and finish high school. She agreed. When I graduated, she said, after what she’d been through, it would be better if I learned to stand on my own.”

Liz didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.” Her own mother hadn’t been a prize, but at least she’d grown up used to it. Pia’s mother had done an about-face at the worst time in a young girl’s life. That made things worse. “What about your dad?”

“He killed himself the day before the trial started.”

Liz dropped her fork onto the table. “Pia. I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“That can’t make it any easier to deal with.”

The other woman looked at her and smiled slightly. “It makes it easier to forget. Besides, I was a real bitch in high school. Maybe I earned it.”

“No. You didn’t. I really am sorry.”

“Sorry enough to let the whole naked-with-Ethan thing go?”

Liz nodded. “I was never really angry at you.”

“I’m a safer target than Ethan. Right?”

Liz shrugged. “And you’re also insightful. That’s annoying.”

Pia’s smile turned genuine. “This is probably where we say we’re going to start over and really be friends.”

Liz thought about everything going on in her life. How there wasn’t anyone she could talk to. How nice it would be to have someone on her side.

“I’d like that,” she admitted.

“Me, too.”

Pia sighed. “You need to give the town a chance. I know things have been rough, but the people here will support you, if you give it time.”

“No, thanks. I’m not buying into the theory of small-town bliss.”

“Maybe we’ll change your mind.”

“Maybe hell will freeze over.”

Pia laughed. “You never know.”

CHAPTER TEN

AFTER A FEW DAYS, LIZ SETTLED into a routine. The construction crew showed up every morning and made impressive progress on the house—a fact that surprised her. She had wondered if Ethan had told his people to go slow, but he obviously hadn’t. The kids settled into the rhythm of day camp, taking the bus up the mountain every morning and riding it back down every afternoon.

They all loved their programs, especially Melissa, who had already spent two evenings online checking out the USC Film School. Ethan had seen Tyler twice, which she encouraged. He’d also tried to talk to her, which she’d resisted. Despite his apology, she was still hurt by what he’d said to his mother. The honest assessment that she didn’t matter shouldn’t have been a surprise, but knowing that didn’t take away the sting of the words.

He was a weakness. Here, in town, on a sunny morning as she walked by the lake, she could admit the truth. There was something about Ethan. Maybe because he was the first man she’d ever loved, ever been with. Maybe because they had a child together. Whatever the reason, he could get to her in a way no one else could. Around him, she was vulnerable. Which made him dangerous.

Avoiding him might not be the most mature response, but it was the safest.

Liz glanced at her watch. She’d had a productive writing morning and had rewarded herself with this walk. But now it was time to head back to her computer and review the pages she’d written. To make them better, sharper.

She took the path leading back to town, thinking that she could stop for a latte. The caffeine would perk her up and give her the energy she needed to push through the pages. She’d barely made it to the corner when someone called her name. She turned and saw Montana waving.

While Ethan might not be one of her favorite people at the moment, Liz found herself smiling as Montana approached. Ethan’s sister was unfailingly cheerful and enthused. There were days when a little enthusiasm was the best gift possible.

“Taking a break?” Montana asked as she approached. “I’m desperate for coffee. I was up all night reading. It’s so hard when a book is great, you know? So great you can’t stop reading even though it’s late and your eyes are burning.”

“It’s the best compliment any writer can ask for,” Liz told her. “Come on. I’ll buy you a latte.”

They got their coffee, then sat in the shade on the small patio outside Starbucks.

“My mother hates you,” Montana stated cheerfully. “Okay—maybe hate is too strong, but she’s still going off on rants about you.”

Liz held in a groan. “Thanks for the update.”

“Don’t worry about it. She starts out feeling sad about how everyone said really bad things about you in high school. She has three daughters and knows if anyone had talked about us that way, it would have broken her heart. Then she admits it would have been tough to raise a kid on her own and how you did such a great job. Then she starts in on the fact that you would have been welcome in her house and all she missed and then she’s throwing pots and we’re ducking for cover.”

Liz winced. “You have a gift for making things come alive.”

Montana laughed. “The outbursts have a little less energy every time. In another month or so, she’ll be calm.” Her humor faded. “It’s not you she’s mad at. It’s circumstances. I think she understands more than she’s letting on.”

“I hope so,” Liz said, thinking that Denise would always come down on Ethan’s side. After all, he was her son and Liz was just the woman who had kept Tyler from the Hendrix family.

“Dakota and Nevada are pretty much staying out of it,” Montana continued. “And my other brothers barely know what’s going on. Mom will come around. It’s worth the wait. Once you’re part of the family, she’ll do anything to protect you.”

“She might make an exception for me,” Liz murmured.

“No,” Montana corrected, briefly touching her arm. “I’m saying this all wrong, aren’t I? She’ll be there for you, Liz. I promise.”

“Thanks. How’s the book fair coming?”

“Great.”

Montana launched into details about the project. Liz pretended to listen, but instead thought about the other woman’s words. Liz’s track record with Ethan wasn’t exactly impressive and while the idea of Denise being on her side was tempting, she knew better than to hope for too much.

“If you have anyone you want to invite,” Montana was saying, “let me know and I’ll put them on the list. We’re going to have a VIP reception and everything. A chance for lesser mortals to mingle.”

Liz laughed. “Lesser mortals? I don’t think so.”

“It’s how we see ourselves. We have a club with bylaws and everything. So anyone from San Francisco?”

“No, thanks. My friends there have all been to plenty of signings. I think my assistant would like to come, though. Every time I talk to her, she wants to know about small-town life.” Obviously Peggy had been watching too much TV, Liz thought grimly. If she knew the reality of Fool’s Gold, she would run in the opposite direction.

Montana’s eyes brightened with interest. “No one of the male variety longing for your return?”

“Sorry, but no.”

Montana sighed. “Damn. I was hoping one of us had a decent love life. Mine sucks.” She sipped her coffee. “I can’t believe you’re not married. You’re successful, beautiful, totally together.”

If Liz had been drinking, she would have choked. “Is that how you see me?”

“Well, yeah. It’s who you are.”

“Not exactly. I’m more the scrambling-to-keep-up kind of person,” Liz told her. Beautiful? Not even with perfect lighting. “The book success is great, but it’s what I do, not who I am. And there are downsides.”

“Crazed fans?”

“I’m sure I have a few. But the bigger problem is more how people think about me. The assumptions.”

Montana leaned toward her. “By people you mean guys.”

Liz laughed. “Did you have to choose this moment to be perceptive?”

“It’s a gift. Who is he?”

Liz hesitated, then decided she didn’t mind telling the story—even if it made her look stupid. “His name is Ryan. He’s a writer, too, which should have been a clue. When we met, he’d published two classic coming-of-age novels. Sort of a poor man’s Nick Hornby, without being even close to that good. But he’d had some modest success. We met at a launch party for another author. He was charming and I was…” She drew in a breath. “I was lonely.”

“How long ago was this?”

“About four years ago. I’d been raising Tyler on my own, I’d managed to get my first book published, and while it had done well, it was a first book. I didn’t know if I had a career or a single lucky break. I was still working as a waitress to support us, writing at night and getting by on about four hours of sleep.”

Liz shrugged. “We talked at the party, exchanged numbers. I didn’t think anything of it. And I didn’t hear from him for about three months. At the time he said it was because he’d been on the road, looking for inspiration for his next book.” She wrinkled her nose. “I figured out later, it was because he was waiting to see how my second book did.”

Montana’s eyes widened. “No way.”

“Uh-huh. I suppose if it hadn’t been successful, I never would have heard from him.”

“What a jerk.”

“A very smooth, good-looking jerk,” Liz told her, remembering how dazzled she’d been on their first date. Ryan couldn’t have been more attentive and interesting. Not to mention funny, charming and kind. He’d been great with Tyler, too. He’d played her and her kid, and she hadn’t known at all.

“He was everything I could have wished for. I was crazy about him. We got engaged.”

“You were married?” Montana’s voice was a squeak.

“No. Somehow the wedding never got planned. Which turned out to be a good thing. He went to New York to meet with his publisher about his new book. He wouldn’t tell me what it was about, which was fine. That was his process. While he was gone, I watered his plants.”

Liz rested her forearms on the table. “Okay—let me just admit I was really curious about the book he was writing. He’d been so excited about it and his previous book had bombed. I wanted him to do well.”

Montana’s mouth twitched. “You went snooping.”

“Not my finest moment, but yes. There were some notes on his desk and I read them.”

“It wasn’t very good?” Montana asked sympathetically.

“Worse. It wasn’t his. He’d stolen my idea. Unlike him, I do talk about my stories. I can be tedious and annoying about it. It’s how I work through problems before I start the actual writing. So he knew everything I was going to do. He had taken the entire story, changed the names and written it. Without saying a word.”

Liz still remembered standing in Ryan’s office, hearing nothing but a rushing sound. She’d wondered if there was something wrong with her brain—a stroke or something. Because what she’d been reading hadn’t made sense. It couldn’t. The man she’d said she would love forever, the man she’d promised to marry couldn’t possibly have taken her work for his own. There had to be a mistake.

Montana swore softly. “What did you do?”

“I tried to convince myself I was crazy. Then I got mad. I waited until he was home and I confronted him.”

“Did he deny it?”

“No. Apparently having a good idea isn’t enough. His editor had hated the book and told Ryan they wouldn’t be publishing him anymore. Ryan was furious. He blamed me. He said I’d known what he was doing and had tricked him into writing a story that didn’t work. He said it wasn’t fair. That he had the actual talent. I was nothing but a hack, yet I had all the success.”

She still remembered the fury in his eyes, the loathing.

“He’d never been interested in me beyond what I could do for his career. He’d lied about nearly everything, especially how he felt about me.” Liz managed a smile. “The good news is he moved away after that and my recovery was fairly quick. Apparently I wasn’t as in love with him as I’d thought.”

But it had been one more illustration of the lesson that men shouldn’t be trusted. Not with something as delicate as a woman’s heart.

“How did Tyler take it?” Montana asked.

“It turns out my son had never much liked Ryan but he hadn’t told me because he wanted me to be happy. Which makes me about the luckiest mother ever.”

Montana sniffed. “Now I just want to hug him and never let go.”

“I know how you feel.”

“And kill that Ryan jerk. Want me to give Ethan his name so he can beat him up?”

Liz shook her head. “Probably best if Ethan doesn’t hear the story at all.” She didn’t need him to know how stupid she’d been.

“You’re right. But still. I hope he’s punished in some way.”

“I suspect Ryan will be unhappy for most of his life. That’s punishment enough for me. I’m just happy to have escaped. He gives writers a bad name.”

“You should tell the college to start giving your scholarship to students who want to be writers. That would be very cool.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your scholarship. Okay, it’s not yours, but it’s named after you. Here. At Fool’s Gold Community College.”

If they’d been drinking alcohol, Liz would have thought Montana was drunk. But it was the middle of the day and they’d only had lattes. “I don’t have a scholarship at the college.”

“Sure you do. It was set up a while ago. I don’t know all the details, but it was started with the scholarship you didn’t use.”

Liz stared at her blankly. “The scholarship?” Nothing about this made sense.

“You had a scholarship out of high school. Remember?”

“Sure. But I left.”

“Exactly. Someone had the idea to use that as seed money to fund a scholarship every year. They’re given to women who have faced hardship—financial or personal. I know because I looked into applying. You really don’t know about this?”

“No.”

“You should talk to the college. They can explain the details.”

“I will,” Liz assured, thinking that Montana had to be wrong. Who would have started a scholarship in her name?

An hour later, she had the information package in her hand and was smiling at a very excited clerk in the admissions office.

“We’re all huge fans,” the older woman told her. “I can’t believe you’re really here. We read all your books.”

“Thanks,” Liz said. “Can you tell me about the origin of the scholarship?”

The woman, her tag read Betty Higgins, frowned. “I would have thought someone would have been in touch with you about it. Very strange. Anyway, when you left town without using your scholarship money, someone suggested giving it to another student. But then several people came in with anonymous donations, increasing the amount and we realized we could make this an annual scholarship instead of a onetime gift.”

Betty glanced around as if to make sure they were alone and lowered her voice. “I moved here a few years ago, but heard all about your sad story. How your mama, God rest her soul, wasn’t exactly maternal and a lot of boys said hateful things about you. Apparently many people knew you were having a rough time of it and they felt badly. So they put this all together. Your scholarship is one of our most popular. Not only for people funding it, but for the women who apply. Most of the recipients are returning students. Women with families, trying to give themselves a better future. It’s so inspiring.”

Talk about too much information in too short a time, Liz thought, her head spinning.

She remembered the scholarship she’d been offered and how she’d planned to use the money to go away to college. She and Ethan had spent the summer talking about being together on a university campus. How perfect it would be.

Then he’d denied even knowing her and she’d taken off. She’d never given the money a second thought. She’d left because staying was impossible.

That much she could handle, but Betty’s claim that people had known about her circumstances astonished her. Part of her appreciated the gesture of donating while the rest of her wondered where they’d been when she’d been young and alone. A kind word back then would have meant the world to her.

It was too much, she thought.

“Thanks for the information,” she said.

“You’re welcome.” Betty smiled. “This is such a thrill. I can’t wait to tell everyone I met you. Oh. We’re having our reception in a few weeks. For the recipients. Can you come?”

“I, ah…”

“It’s only for an hour or so. I know those women would appreciate the chance to thank you in person.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Liz countered. “I’m not the one they should be thanking.”

“You’re an inspiration. In fact, two of the women wrote about you for their essays. How you started with nothing and made yourself a success. Why don’t I send you an invitation and you can think about it?”

“Um, sure.” Liz cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.”

Liz left the college and walked to her car. But instead of driving home, she made her way back into town and parked outside of the Hendrix Construction office. Before she could change her mind, she turned off the engine and went into the building.

After giving her name to the receptionist, she paced the small waiting area. Seconds later, Ethan appeared, looking tall and strong and pleased to see her.

Inside her belly, something fluttered. Something hot and bright and dangerous. She ignored the sensation.

“Is this a good time?” she asked. “Can you talk?”

“Sure.”

He led the way to his office. “Everything all right?” he inquired as he closed the door behind her.

“No. Nothing’s all right. I’m still mad at you, by the way, so don’t think everything is fine between us. I hate this town. I hate everyone knowing everything about me. Your mother is still angry at me, and I hate that part of me understands why. I blame you for most of this, in case you were wondering. But just when I think I know exactly where all the pieces fit, I get surprised.”

“A good surprise or a bad one?”

“Good.” She paced the length of his office. “There’s a scholarship in my name.”

“At the community college.”

“You knew?” She spun to face him.

He leaned against his desk. “Sure. It’s been around awhile.”

“You never thought to tell me?”

“Why would I?”

Right. “I don’t know why, but I feel like it changes everything. But where were these caring people when I was growing up? Why didn’t someone tell protective services that my mother was slapping me around? Why didn’t someone notice that she supported herself with casual prostitution with her underaged daughter in the house? Probably because they didn’t want to get involved. So they ignored the problem until it went away, and then they started a scholarship in my name. Does that make sense to you?”

She crossed to the window and turned back. Moving seemed required. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she stood still. Scream maybe. Or fall apart.

As she passed Ethan, he grabbed her and pulled her close. At first she resisted, but then she collapsed into his arms, wanting to feel his strength surround her.

“It’s okay,” he murmured.

“You think?”

“It will be.”

She sucked in a breath, letting her hands rest on his shoulders. “This town is making me crazy.”

“If it makes you feel any better, old Mrs. Egger cornered me yesterday. Slapped me with that big purse of hers and accused me of not respecting you. Not only did she give me what for because I’d, and this is a direct quote, ‘ruined the reputation of a perfectly respectable girl,’ she pointed out that if I was going to let my sperm loose on society, I should keep track of them.” He shuddered. “I never want to hear a woman in her eighties talking about my sperm.”

Liz leaned her forehead against his shoulder and smiled. “I always liked Mrs. Egger.”

“I thought you’d say that.” He put his hand on her chin, pressing until she looked at him. “I know this is hard.”

“You really don’t.”

“I’m trying to understand. I want you to like it here.”

Meaning he wanted her to stay. Which wasn’t going to happen, but there was no reason to go over that material again, she thought, wanting to stay in his arms forever.

Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Wanting burned. Not just for how kissing him would make her feel, but because when she was with him, nothing else could touch her. There was only the man and what they could do to each other.

“I thought I was only going to have to deal with Roy’s kids,” she admitted. “You weren’t supposed to be a part of this.”

“Too late to get rid of me now.”

“I don’t want to,” she said.

“What do you want?”

An impossible question, she thought. One without an answer.

No. That wasn’t true. She had plenty of answers, just none she wanted to share with him.

“I want us to be friends,” she told him. “I want to be able to trust you.”

“You can.”

“I don’t think so.”

He kissed her. “Come on, Liz. You know me. I’m a good guy.”

“Are you saying there aren’t any more surprises?”

Before he could answer, his phone buzzed.

“Sorry to bother you, Ethan, but it’s that call from China.”

Liz stepped out of his arms. “When did you go international?”

“Not me. The windmills.” He frowned. “I need to take this call, but then I want to talk to you.”

“I’m fine. Go be successful. I have to get home.”

“Liz, I—”

She cut him off with the shake of her head. “International calls shouldn’t be kept waiting. I’ll see you later.”

She stepped out of his office and made her way to her car. Thoughts spun in her head. That there were multiple versions of the past. While she resented the fact that no one had bothered to step forward when she was growing up, she hadn’t been as ignored and forgotten as she’d thought.

Which meant what? That Fool’s Gold wasn’t evil? She’d never thought of it that way—at least not in general.

The information about a scholarship in her name shouldn’t have made a difference, yet she found herself feeling better about nearly everything and wasn’t exactly sure why.

* * *

LIZ WOKE EARLY THE NEXT morning with a growing sense of the inevitable. After showering and dressing, she went downstairs and started coffee. The kids would sleep until the construction crew arrived, which gave her a half hour or so of perfect quiet.

She took her coffee out onto the front porch to enjoy the stillness of the morning. The air was cool, the sky clear. The sound of birds greeted her as she settled on the top step with her mug.

Maybe she needed more time before making her decision, she thought cautiously. Yes, there were things she really hated about this town, but there were other parts she liked. Melissa and Abby were desperate to stay and after all they’d been through, shouldn’t she consider their feelings? Tyler would enjoy living close to his dad and Liz knew it was what Ethan wanted, too. Ethan’s mother was a problem, but better a rabid grandmother than one who wasn’t interested at all. Given time, maybe she and Liz could come to terms.

Of course Liz could be completely fooling herself. There was the possibility she was blinded by a scholarship, a few kind words and the feel of Ethan’s arms around her. Clarity would come with time, she told herself. She didn’t have to tell anyone she was having second thoughts about leaving.

An unfamiliar sedan pulled up to the curb and an older man in a suit got out. He stared at her a moment, shrugged, then reached for something in his car.

“Morning,” he said as he approached, an envelope in his hand. “You’re up early.”

She smiled. “It’s the only time it’s quiet.”

“I hear you.” He hesitated. “My workday starts in a couple hours. I was on my way to Starbucks. They’ve got me hooked on their lattes. Can’t get going in the morning without one.”

She rose and moved to the gate. While the conversation was pleasant enough, she felt uneasy with the man’s presence.

“Can I help you with something?”

The old man nodded slowly. “I would have come back later, but seeing as you’re already up… Elizabeth Marie Sutton?”

How did he know her name?

She felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck.

He held out the envelope, then waited until she took it. “You’ve been served.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“YOU SLIMY, WEASELLY, disgusting bastard,” Liz yelled the second Ethan stepped into his office building.

Ethan came to a stop and stared at her cautiously. Liz looked ferocious, which wasn’t good, but he had a feeling he knew why.

She stood by the reception desk. It was still early enough that most of the staff hadn’t arrived. Nevada’s truck was in the parking lot, but his sister was nowhere to be seen. She normally arrived around six-thirty. Today hadn’t been an exception. The only difference appeared to be that she’d let Liz in to wait for him.

“I should have known,” Liz continued, her green eyes flashing a level of rage powerful enough to melt steel. “You say one thing to my face and go behind my back. And here I stand. Surprised. Which makes me an idiot. Well, I’m done being stupid where you’re concerned. Know this—I will never trust you again. Ever. Do you hear me? I hope you rot in hell. I hope there’s a special place there just for you.”

She picked up the message pad from the reception desk and threw it at him. He sidestepped the missile easily. When she reached for the computer flat screen, he grabbed her arm.

“Stop.”

“I won’t.” She wrenched free and glared at him. “There’s no excuse for what you did.”

The envelope was in her hand.

He wrestled with regret, then reminded himself that she hadn’t given him a choice. “They weren’t supposed to serve you until this afternoon. I was going to come tell you myself. This morning.”

“Oh, please. Let’s not even pretend that’s true. You’ve always been a coward and a liar. That hasn’t changed.”

He grabbed her arm again and this time didn’t let go. “I was going to tell you. I started to explain yesterday.”

If her gaze had had laser power, he would be a small stain on the rug right now.

“That’s so much bullshit,” she snapped. “And here I am wearing sandals.”

She tried to pull free, but he didn’t let her go. “Liz, calm down. We have to talk.”

She continued to tug. Afraid he would bruise her, he finally let her go. She staggered back a step.

“I was going to tell you,” he repeated.

He read the betrayal in her eyes, the hint of pain. “Liar,” she echoed, then waved the envelope. “If this is how you want to play it, then fine. Because I know some damn good lawyers.”

“I’d hoped we could work it out ourselves.”

“You’re the one who went to court, Ethan.”

He had. He’d seen a family court judge and asked for an injunction. One that forbade Liz from leaving Fool’s Gold with Tyler.

“I didn’t know how else to stop you from taking Tyler away,” he explained.

“I have a right to a life,” she said, rubbing her arm. “That life is in San Francisco.”

“You can explain that to the judge next week.”

“I will. I also plan to tell her that I made two efforts to tell you about Tyler and that the only reason you don’t already have a relationship with him is your late wife kept the information from you. So don’t think you’ll make me the bad guy in all this.”

“You were going to leave,” he reminded her, doing his best to hold his temper. It wouldn’t help anyone if they both got mad. “You didn’t give me a choice in the matter. You just said that I could have alternating weekends. As if that was enough.”

She stared at him. “Is that what this is about? You want more time? Then why didn’t you come to me and say that? Why involve a judge?”

“Because I’ve already lost too much time as it is. I’m not losing any more. You could walk away tomorrow and I couldn’t stop you. Now I can.”

“There were a lot of ways to guarantee my cooperation. This isn’t one of them.”

“The person I care about here is Tyler.”

“And you think I don’t?” she demanded. “You think I haven’t spent the last eleven years lying awake at night, worrying about him, doing what I think is best? Do you think it was easy to come back here five years ago to tell you about him? Do you think it was pleasant talking to Rayanne, listening to her judge me for having had your baby? Do you think I liked her calling me a whore?”

His gut clenched. He wanted to say that Rayanne wouldn’t have done that, only he knew better. She would have said that and more. Liz would have represented everything she’d both hated and wanted. Beauty, brains, determination.

He wanted the past to be different but the truth is his relationship with Rayanne had been a mistake. He’d been bored, she’d been pursuing him and if she hadn’t gotten pregnant—probably on purpose—he would have broken things off sooner rather than later.

But she had gotten pregnant and he’d accepted the responsibility. The way he would have done with Liz.

“I would have married you,” he said softly.

Words he’d expected to make things better. Instead the fury returned. “Yes, I know. Despite having denied even knowing me, let alone swearing you were in love with me, you would have been noble and married the slut you’d knocked up. Lucky me. I could have been your wife. What a thrill to spend my life wondering what horrible things you were saying about me. We could have had T-shirts made. ‘I didn’t want to marry her. I don’t even like her.’ That would have been great.”

“Dammit, Liz, I said I was sorry. I was young and stupid. Or does the absolution only go one way? I’m supposed to get over your halfhearted attempt to tell me about Tyler when you were first pregnant. That’s fine, because hey, you tried. But my screw up is unforgivable? Want to test your theory in the general public? Or before the judge?”

She raised her hand, as if to hit him. He grabbed her wrist.

They were both breathing hard, glaring fiercely at each other. There was no softness in her expression. No affection, no passion. He’d paid a high price to keep her from leaving. He knew that.

“Tyler is my son,” he said, releasing her. “I’ve already lost most of his childhood. I’m not willing to lose any more. I protect what’s mine.”

“Selectively,” she corrected, lowering her arm and walking to the door. “You’ll protect what’s yours selectively. Let’s not forget that.”

She walked out. The door slammed behind her.

Ethan stood in the foyer, his fists clenching and unclenching. Helplessness washed through him, which only infuriated him more.

Liz made him crazy—more than any other woman he knew. She had the ability to make him see the worst in himself—and to want to fix it. She was maddening and difficult and, he had to admit, maybe she was right.

An office door opened and Nevada stepped out into the main room. His sister, dressed in jeans and a work shirt, as always, her boots worn and practical, stared at him.

“You’re beyond stupid,” she said. “You know that, right?”

“I had to stop her from leaving.”

“I understand, but jeez, Ethan. There were a lot better ways to go about it. You should have at least warned her.”

“I was going to.”

“Famous last words.” She walked over to him. “I was younger than both you and Liz, but even I heard talk about her. People said ugly things about her mom and assumed they were true about her, too. She grew up with that, every single day.”

He didn’t want to hear this, didn’t want to know he might have gone too far. “She would have taken Tyler from me.”

“So you’d rather be right than win?” Nevada asked. “You’re smarter than that. There’s too much at stake here. You’ve just made Liz your enemy. Is that what you want?”

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

“What happened to sitting down and talking?”

“Not something Liz and I can do.” The one evening they’d tried, they’d ended up making love in the kitchen. While he would enjoy repeating the experience, it didn’t accomplish anything. “This solves the problem.”

“If you believe that, you’re even more stupid than I thought. Do you get what Liz is going through? Being back in town can’t be easy. You know how people speak their minds. She’s at the receiving end of a lot of criticism. Liz doesn’t have anyone on her side. Okay— Montana likes her, but is one friend enough? You’re her son’s father. She should be able to trust you and she can’t. No wonder she wants to leave. You’re lucky she didn’t kick you in the balls first. I would have.”

“I love you, too, sis,” he said sarcastically.

She gave him that pitying look that always made him uncomfortable. “You don’t get it and because of that, you’re going to lose.”

“What don’t I get?”

“I know what Dad used to tell you. We all heard the lectures about what it meant to be a Hendrix. How we had to protect the family name. You got it more than all the rest of us put together. You’re the oldest. You would have done anything for him. You gave up your life to take over the family business when he died.” She touched his arm.

“Dad was wrong, Ethan. There are more important things than the family name and reputation. There are the people we love. There’s doing what your heart tells you is right.”

“I’m not in love with Liz.”

“No, but back then, you were supposed to be. Doing what’s right isn’t supposed to hurt someone you care about.”

* * *

LIZ SPENT THE MORNING WEEDING. The alternative was breaking every plate in the house, as a way to vent her temper. While the theory was great, she wasn’t sure it was especially smart, considering not only would she have to replace all the dishes, she would also be the one cleaning up the mess.

As she dug and hacked in the garden, she did her best to look at the situation from Ethan’s point of view. An attempt that still made her want to punch him really hard.

What she would agree on—not that she was going to tell him anytime soon—was that if she expected him to let the past go, she would have to do the same. Yes, he’d been horrible to her nearly twelve years before, but she’d been worse. She’d made a halfhearted attempt to tell him about her pregnancy, then had disappeared for six years. Not exactly a mature decision.

But an injunction?

By eleven she was hot and sweaty and ready to let go of her fury, if only to get into the cool house. She waited until the construction crew left for lunch, then showered quickly and worked until about three. Then she gathered the ingredients for cookies, cranked up the CD player and danced along to the Black Eyed Peas until the kids got home.

“Mo-om!” Tyler said when he walked into the kitchen with Melissa and Abby. He sounded both horrified and confused. “What are you doing?”

“Making cookies. I’ve already made some oatmeal raisin. Now I’m moving on to peanut butter.”

Tyler wrinkled his nose. “I meant the other part.”

“The dancing?” she asked with a laugh and turned the player up even louder. “It’s fun.”

She reached for Abby who took her hand and began to move her hips. Melissa surprised her by spinning around, then waving her arms in time with the music. Soon even Tyler joined in and they were all dancing around the kitchen.

Liz showed them how to form a conga line and they were weaving through the downstairs, bumping into the sofa and yelling the words to the song.

She broke free of the line and spun in a circle as the song ended. Abby and Tyler flopped onto the sofa, both giggling. But Melissa stood still, her face etched with sadness.

“What’s wrong?” Liz asked.

“My mom used to dance with me,” the teen said. “My real mom. Not Bettina.” She gave a smile that faded quickly. “I don’t remember very much about her.”

“You remember her in your heart,” Liz said. “That’s what’s important.”

“I guess.”

Abby stood and sighed. “I don’t remember her at all.”

Liz moved to her and touched her cheek. “That’s okay. I’m sure she understands and loves you very much.”

“From heaven?”

Liz nodded. Now wasn’t the time to get involved in a “life after death” discussion.

“You promise?”

“Yes,” Liz told her. “I promise. No matter what, your mom loves you.”

She wanted to look at Tyler, to see if he got the message as well, but kept her attention on Abby.

“Dad never wrote us,” Melissa pointed out.

Liz didn’t know what to say. Roy had promised he would. These were his daughters. Families could be complicated, she thought sadly.

“Does he still love us?” Abby asked.

“Yes.” Liz pulled her close, then held out her free arm to Melissa. “He does. Right now he’s dealing with a lot.” What had he said? That he was a busy man? She didn’t understand how he could ignore his children, but this wasn’t about him. It was about making the girls feel better.

“Can we go see him?” Melissa asked, then cleared her throat. “I want to go see him.”

“I’ll take you,” Liz said hesitantly. “But you have to be prepared. Your dad is in prison. It’s not like the movies. It’s a lot less clean and it’s a little intimidating.” There was also a smell, but some details were better left blurry. They would find out soon enough. “I’m not saying that to change your mind, but to warn you what it’s going to be like.”

“I want to see him,” Melissa repeated. “Abby, if you’re scared, you don’t have to come.”

“I want to see Dad, too,” she whispered.

Liz hugged them both. “Then we’ll go.”

She glanced at Tyler, who was watching her wide-eyed. Theirs had always been a quiet life, she thought. With routines and predictability. Sure, she’d pulled him out of school once or twice a year for a fun day in the city, but that had been a good kind of surprise. Not every unexpected event fell into that category.

Reality came in all shapes and sizes. In the end, he had two parents who cared about him, even if they couldn’t care about each other. She would die for her child. While Ethan might not be there yet, he was determined to be a part of Tyler’s life, which was an excellent start.

As for her nieces, they would have to take things slow. Seeing Roy would make his prison sentence real. Whether or not it made leaving harder or easier, she couldn’t say. But however things turned out, they would find their way to becoming a family.

In the kitchen, the timer dinged.

“We have cookies,” she announced, releasing the girls. “I’m going to need some help sampling. Any volunteers?”

All three of them yelled out they were willing and together they walked into the kitchen.

* * *

ETHAN WANTED TO IGNORE his mother’s voice-mail request that he stop by on his way home that evening, but knew it wasn’t a good idea. Denise didn’t make many demands of her children, so when she asked for something, they mostly paid attention.

He had a feeling he knew the topic she would want to discuss. He would rather chew glass than talk about his relationship with Liz, but he didn’t see how he could avoid it. Sometimes having close relationships was a giant pain in the ass. If he and his mother were estranged, he could cheerfully ignore her. But they weren’t, and the affection between them demanded he be forthcoming.

He parked in front of the house and walked to the front door.

“It’s me,” he called.

“I’m in the kitchen.”

He moved to the rear of the house, then stepped into the bright, open kitchen. His mother stood at the counter, pouring sun tea into tall glasses filled with ice. She wore cropped pants and a pink T-shirt, was barefoot and had a country station playing on the radio.

Everything about this was familiar, he thought as he took his usual seat at the large table in the center of the room.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Good. Great.” She approached him with the glass and set it in front of him. “I met someone. His name is Roger. He owns a shipping company. We’re going to Las Vegas together on Friday.”

He stared at her, the words sinking into his consciousness. “What?”

Her dark eyes were alive with excitement. “It’s wonderful. To think I could fall in love again, and at my age. The sex…well, I won’t get into that, but trust me. It rocks my world.”

He could have choked. As it was, he could barely speak. “You met a guy? Just like that and you’re running off?”

“Of course not,” she snapped and cuffed him on the back of his head. “That would be stupid and irresponsible. I’m a firm believer there should only be one idiot in the family at a time and right now that’s you.”

His mind reeled with the shift, as he struggled to figure out what she was saying. She collected her glass and sat across from him.

“There’s no Roger?” he asked, wanting confirmation.

“There’s no Roger. Just my son, who is doing his damnedest to screw up. You must get that from your father.”

The world seemed to steady itself. He drew in a breath. “You heard about the injunction.”

“Yes, and if I was closer, I’d hit you again. Talk about stupid. Are you trying to drive Liz away?”

He rubbed the back of his head, doing his best not to wince when he passed over the place where she’d hit him. “I thought you didn’t like her.”

“I’m ambivalent. I’m angry about the time we’ve lost with Tyler, but I can see her side of things. She didn’t have it easy when she was growing up. As the mother of three daughters, I ache for her. Where was her mother? Talk about a difficult situation. Which you’ve made worse. What were you thinking?”

“That I didn’t want her to run. She’s leaving. She told me flat out that she was fixing up the house, then going back to San Francisco. I couldn’t lose him again.”

Denise frowned. “I don’t understand. Why would Liz allow you to see Tyler, why would she be so cooperative, then threaten to take her son away?”

Ethan shifted in his seat. “She didn’t say she was taking him away, exactly. She said that we would work something out. Custody. Visitation. Whatever.”

His mother stared at him, disbelief widening her eyes. “You’re telling me that Liz was willing to come up with a plan, and you served her with an injunction? To what end?”

“What if she disappeared? I’d have no way to find her. No way to see Tyler.”

“Is there anything about her past behavior that would make you think even for a second that she would disappear? She’s been perfectly up-front with you. Okay, not the first few years, and I’m still angry and hurt about that. But we’ll put that aside for now.”

She picked up her iced tea, then set it down. “Since she’s been back, she’s been cooperative, hasn’t she? She really did try to tell you about Tyler five years ago. You have written proof of it. What more did you need?”

Control, he thought, knowing he couldn’t explain that to his mother. She wouldn’t understand and if she did, she wouldn’t approve.

“We’ll work it out,” he said instead.

“In front of a judge? That will be friendly and pleasant.” Denise shook her head. “I don’t get it. What did you hope to accomplish by acting like that? Getting her attention?”

His head snapped up. “I’m not looking for Liz’s attention.”

“Aren’t you?” She seemed to consider the idea. “You were in love with her once, weren’t you?”

“I was a kid. We both were.”

“I was nineteen when I met your father. Being young doesn’t make the love any less real.”

“Fine. I loved her.” He’d loved her but he’d been too much of a jerk to admit it. To stand up to the town and his friends. To admit his feelings out loud.

It wasn’t behavior he’d been proud of. Looking back, with the wisdom of hindsight, he knew he hadn’t been ready for Liz. Hadn’t deserved her.

He’d been blessed with a happy, normal childhood. He hadn’t realized that little had been asked of him, so he hadn’t had to prove himself. On the surface, he’d seemed like one of the good guys, but underneath, he’d been immature and selfish.

It had taken the accident that had ended his racing career to start the process of maturing him. But even that hadn’t been enough. Because he’d come home to sulk, to complain. It was only after the death of his father, when he’d been forced to take over the family business, that he’d finally started to grow up.

“I wasn’t ready,” he said slowly. “Not to be what Liz needed. If I’d known she was pregnant, I would have done the right thing and married her. But I don’t think we would have made it.”

“You might have surprised yourself.”

“You’re my mom. You have to believe the best of me.” Even when it wasn’t true.

She and Nevada were right, he thought. Serving Liz had accomplished nothing but alienating her. Maybe he had wanted to get her attention. If so, he’d picked a lousy way to do it.

“She needs someone on her side,” Denise told him. “You have your family and the town.”

“Not everyone in town,” he assured, remembering the old lady who’d gone after him with her purse.

“You’re still coming out ahead. If we’re not careful, Liz will feel overwhelmed and take off. Honestly, I’m not sure I would blame her for that.” His mother paused, then scrunched her face. “I could have been a lot more supportive and understanding. I should have been. I want to know my grandson, and Liz is the key to making that happen.”

He thought about pointing out that if push came to shove, they could go to court. Force Liz to let Tyler spend time with the family. But in the end, no one would win. Certainly not Tyler. And as Liz had pointed out several times, the kid was the most important part of the equation.

“I can’t take the injunction back,” he said, not completely sure he would if he could. Although he still wasn’t sure why. His mother was right—he was trying to prove something.

“You may not be able to take it back, but I can make an effort, and I’m going to. Liz has been in this by herself for too long. I’m still angry about missing the first eleven years of Tyler’s life, but if I don’t let that go, my emotions will affect everything else. And not in a good way. Besides, Rayanne is to blame for the last five years. This is so complicated.” She looked at him. “I suppose you’re going to be an idiot for a while longer.”

“Apparently.”

She surprised him by smiling. “Sometimes you remind me so much of your father. He was an idiot, too.”

“And you still loved him.”

Her smile broadened. “Yes, but Liz might not be as smart as me.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

LIZ HAD NEVER BEEN TO A CITY event-planning meeting before. When Pia had called to invite her, she thought the afternoon might be interesting. Her stay in Fool’s Gold was temporary but she might as well get a feel for the good as well as the bad. If nothing else, she may be able to put the experience in a book.

A little before two, she walked to the City Hall building and found her way to the meeting room. When she opened the door, she was surprised to find herself in a good-size open space, with about three dozen chairs facing a long table and a podium. Most of the chairs were full, and three women chatted by the head table. Montana and Pia were among them and smiled at her.

Liz smiled back, then went to find an empty seat.

Her choices were limited. There was one next to a young mother with a baby. Liz didn’t recognize her, so they hadn’t gone to school together. Odds were the woman wouldn’t care about Liz or her past. There were several older women sitting together, but after the recent comments on her character by strangers, she wasn’t sure she wanted to risk the wrath of a potential mob.

Unable to find a place that felt safe, she settled for a seat in the back corner. With any luck, she would be ignored.

A woman in the row in front of her turned to face her. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Marti and I just love your books.”

“Thanks.”

“Your main character is wonderful. She feels so real. And thank God you’re not putting too much gore in your books. I know violence is part of the genre, but some authors go too far.”

“I enjoy writing my stories,” Liz acknowledged, knowing a neutral response was usually best. The truth was she always liked hearing her readers opinions, even when she didn’t agree with them. Readers probably thought she ignored what they said, but that wasn’t true. Liz had made not a few changes in story lines based on reader input.

“I love reading them,” Marti repeated, before smiling and facing front.

Pia moved to the podium and called the meeting to order.

“We’re planning the book festival,” she began. “Thank you all for coming out this afternoon. This is going to be our biggest and best program ever, which means lots of opportunity for volunteering. We’ll get to that later. First, let me go over the program.”

A screen rolled down behind her. She pushed a few buttons on her laptop and a big poster appeared. It was bright and inviting, giving the dates of the Fool’s Gold annual book festival. The border was filled with pictures of both authors and books. Liz was relieved to see that she was just one of the many on this poster. The one Montana had shown her a few days before had featured her prominently. Not something to endear her to the other local authors.

“We’re going to set up in the park,” Pia continued. “Given that we have a few better-known authors this year, we’re expecting a larger crowd than usual.”

“That’s right,” someone in the front called. “There’s that mystery writer everyone’s been talking about. What’s her name?”

A ripple of laughter flowed through the room. Liz chuckled. “I can’t remember,” she said loudly. “But I’ve heard she has an attitude, so watch out.”

An older woman stood up and waved at Liz. “I have a new quilting book out this year. Chances are my fans are going to be flooding the park. Just so you’re prepared.”

“I look forward to meeting them,” Liz told her.

Pia looked at Liz with a teasing expression. “I think our local New York Times bestselling author can handle the competition.”

Pia went through the list of authors. As promised, most of them were local, self-published and their books dealt with unusual or dying crafts. Using sticks for art and furniture. Making meals from what one can find on the forest floor. There was mention of an author who wrote about the Indian legends. The book sounded interesting, but when Liz asked Marti about the author, the other woman told her no one ever saw him in town. He lived in the mountains and kept to himself.

“There are tons of rumors,” Marti admitted. “Seeing him is like seeing Bigfoot. I’ve heard everything from him being one-hundred-and-eight, English and a former explorer to him being young, gorgeous and really rich.” She lowered her voice. “Personally I like the second story best.”

Liz thought the old British explorer sounded more intriguing. She would have to look up the mysterious author at the signing.

Despite everything going on, she found herself looking forward to the event. Her usual signings were in big stores or at industry events. Very organized and predictable, with crowd control and readers kept at a respectful distance. This sounded more fun. She liked the idea of being part of a writing community. There were days when figuring out a new way to serve chicken for Tyler seemed impossible. Feeding someone what could be found on a forest floor was impressive.

Pia went through the rest of the programs, the various opportunities for volunteering, then opened the meeting for questions.

Two people wanted to know about taking sign-up sheets around town. The only man at the meeting pointed out that just because there were more women than men in town didn’t mean it was right to take over all the men’s restrooms every time there was a festival. Men had needs, too. Pia promised to look into the problem.

“Anything else?” she asked.

The young mother with the baby rose slowly. “I’m sure a lot of you aren’t going to agree with me, but I have to say, I’m just sick about having that woman here.” She pointed at Liz. “What she did to Ethan is shameful. Keeping his little boy from him all those years. It’s worse because of him losing Rayanne and their baby.” The woman’s eyes filled with tears. “Rayanne was a sweet girl and now people are saying terrible things about her.” She glared at Liz. “I don’t believe any of them.”

The room went silent as everyone turned to stare at Liz. Her warm fuzzies about the signing, the town and ever thinking it was smart to come back, disappeared. She sat in her seat, embarrassed, angry and determined not to blush. Speaking any words seemed impossible, let alone the right ones. What was she supposed to say?

“Let’s stay on topic, everyone,” Pia reminded from the front of the room. “We’re here to talk about the book festival.” She glanced at the young mother. “Melody, I know Rayanne was your friend, but this isn’t the time or the place to have this conversation. Can we please finish up here.”

Both her voice and her gaze were sympathetic. Liz appreciated the support, although she still felt sick to her stomach. Then the woman next to Marti rose.

“Melody, you need to get your head out of your butt. Liz didn’t do anything wrong. She was a kid, dealing with a lot of crap.” The older woman cleared her throat, then faced Liz. “I knew your mother and I had a bad feeling about what was going on at your house every night. I knew she drank and I knew there were men in and out of that place. A lot of us knew and we didn’t do anything to protect you. We should have. You were just a little girl.”

The woman drew in a breath. “I’m sorry for my part in that. I’ve given money to the scholarship and I’ve acted differently since then. But that doesn’t make up for me turning away when you were growing up.”

Several other women nodded. Melody looked furious.

“That doesn’t excuse what she did to Ethan.”

“Maybe if you spent more time looking after your own family, you wouldn’t have time to worry about something that happened all those years ago,” the older woman snapped. “After all, your husband spends plenty of nights up at the lodge, flirting with a certain cocktail waitress.”

Several people gasped. Melody went red. Pia grabbed the microphone.

“People, please. This is getting out of hand. Obviously we need to finish this another time. We—”

The door by the front of the room opened. An older woman walked in. It took Liz a moment to recognize the mayor. Marsha Tilson looked pale and it was obvious something bad had happened.

Pia stared at her. “It’s Crystal, isn’t it?” she asked softly, her voice picked up by the microphone.

The mayor nodded and held out her arms. Pia went into them and started to cry.

Liz stared at them both, unable to believe what she’d just heard. Crystal couldn’t be dead. Sure she was sick, but Liz had seen her only a few weeks before. She’d been walking and talking and…

Her eyes burned with unshed tears. Liz remembered the pretty, friendly girl from high school who had taken the time to give her hope.

“Oh, Crystal,” she whispered. “Not so soon.”

Nearly everyone in the room began talking. A few were crying. Liz got up and slipped out before anyone noticed.

As she walked home, she thought about Crystal, the town and how coming back had changed her life forever. She could leave and swear she would never return, but Fool’s Gold had made a mark on her. One that nothing could erase.

There were horrible people here, but there were also good ones. People like Crystal, who took the time to change a life with a few words.

* * *

FAMILY COURT WAS IN THE county courthouse—away from the center of town. A fact that made the experience slightly more bearable, Liz thought as she walked into the old building. There were murals in the massive entryway—the kind painted in the 1940s and depicting farmworkers and loggers. The subjects stood ten or fifteen feet high, the sure brushstrokes and colors still vivid after all these years.

Liz saw Ethan waiting by a bank of elevators. He wore a dark suit and white shirt, very different from his usual jeans and boots. Professional looked good on him. Not that a man with his height and muscled body ever looked bad, she thought, trying not to notice.

They moved toward each other. She squared her shoulders, grateful her three-inch heels meant she didn’t have to look up very far to meet his gaze.

“No lawyer?” he asked.

“We’re meeting the judge in her chamber,” Liz stated. “It’s an informal meeting. The lawyer I contacted suggested trying to keep it friendly for as long as possible.”

“With the judge,” he noted, his gaze unreadable. “Not with me.”

“I’m not the one who started this.”

He shoved his hands into his front pockets. “I didn’t want you to leave.”

Something she could understand. Despite her claims that he could see Tyler whenever he wanted, she understood the fear of losing the one thing that mattered.

“You should have talked to me before doing this,” she told him evenly. “This is where you went and now we’re stuck.”

“You owe me, Liz,” he said quietly.

“Maybe, but this is the wrong kind of payback.”

“I need to know I’m not going to lose my son.”

“What did I ever do to make you not trust me?”

“You didn’t tell me right away.”

So they were back to that, she thought, both annoyed and sad. The same road, the same words, the same feelings. They were trapped and she didn’t know how to make things different.

They walked to the waiting room, and then were called into the judge’s chambers.

Judge Powers was a small woman, with dark hair and a petite build. She sat behind a large desk and leaned back in her leather chair as Ethan and Liz walked into the room.

She motioned for them to sit across from her, then drew in a breath.

“This sort of action makes me tired,” she began, her voice thick with irritation. “You’re wasting my time and the court’s time. You are two reasonably intelligent people who went to all the trouble to create a child together. Now, when your son is eleven, suddenly I have to deal with this?”

Liz had to consciously press her lips together to keep her mouth from falling open. She hadn’t known what to expect, but it sure hadn’t been a beginning like that.

“Your Honor,” Ethan responded, “there are some extraordinary circumstances.”

“There always are,” she said, reaching for her reading glasses and opening a file. “Dazzle me with them.”

Ethan briefly explained about how Tyler had come to be in his life. Liz gave him points for being fair about her attempts to tell him. He was a little dismissive of her first effort, but detailed the second accurately.

Judge Powers frowned. “Your wife kept the information about your son from you?”

Ethan nodded.

“There’s a prize,” the judge commented. “Where is she now?”

“She died a few years ago.”

The judge drew in a breath. “I’m sorry for your loss. So now you’re back in town, Ms. Sutton. I understand you’re caring for your brother’s two daughters while your brother is incarcerated. Is that correct?”

Liz nodded, shocked for the second time in the very short meeting. “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Don’t look so surprised,” the judge said. “I do my homework. What you’re doing with them is admirable. I’ve heard you plan on taking them to San Francisco with you. How do they feel about that?”

“They’re not happy about the decision.”

“They’re teenage girls. They’re not going to be happy about anything.” She picked up the folder and looked at Ethan over her glasses. “This wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve ever done.”

“I’m beginning to see that.”

“It’s done now. You’re going to have to deal with it. Both of you. School starts the Tuesday after Labor Day. You have between now and the Friday before Labor Day to come up with a reasonable plan. You will present it to me at nine that morning. If I like it, then everything will be fine. If I don’t…”

She smiled tightly. “Trust me. You’re going to want me to like it.” The smile faded. “However, if you don’t come up with a plan, then I will put both of you in jail and charge you five hundred dollars a day until you do. Each. That should cover the cost of three additional children being put in our already overcrowded foster care system. Have I made myself clear?”

Liz nodded. She had no idea if Ethan did the same, but then they were being shown out.

She stood in the corridor feeling as if she’d just escaped a war zone.

“Jesus.” Ethan shoved his hand through his hair. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“We’re going to have to figure something out,” Liz insisted, glancing back at the door. “While I’m sure you’re not excited about paying five hundred dollars a day, either, I can at least work from jail. You made this happen, Ethan. Now we’re both stuck.”

“I did what I had to do.”

“You’d rather be right than anything?” What happened to the gentle, funny man she’d fallen in love with? Was he gone forever? Or had the person she’d cared about been little more than an illusion?

“I can’t lose Tyler again.”

“You won’t,” she said, frustration boiling inside of her. “How many times do I have to tell you before you’ll believe…”

She stared at him as understanding dawned. “Of course,” she whispered. “You can’t believe me. Because if I’m reasonable, if I really want you to get to know your son, then I’m not the bad guy. And just maybe part of the reason you don’t know him now is because of the choices you made.”

She was thinking about how he’d betrayed her, but the tightness in his expression warned her that he’d gone to a different place.

“You leave Rayanne out of this,” he growled.

“I wasn’t talking about her.”

“You blame her.”

She considered the question. “Not as much as you do.”

“I don’t blame her. She was my wife.”

There was something about the way he said the words, she thought. She didn’t know what it was. What secret or piece of information she was missing.

Before she could decide if she should hit him or walk away, he surprised her by touching her cheek with the back of his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Sensitive topic.”

“Apparently.”

They stared at each other. Looking into his eyes was a little too much like looking at the sun. Do it for any length of time and there would be permanent consequences.

“I don’t want to fight with you,” he told her. “You’re right. We need to come up with a plan.”

The gentle stroking made her want to lean against him. “As if I’d trust you now.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Liz.”

She glanced away. “What do you want?”

He dropped his hand to his side. “I want a do-over. I want to be there when Tyler’s born and watch him grow up.”

There was raw honesty in his expression and anguish in his tone. Her chest tightened.

“I’m sorry, too,” she said softly. “More sorry than I can tell you.”

“I know.”

Two little words that usually didn’t mean much. But this time, spoken by him, they were the world.

“We can make this work,” she reiterated. “I want you and Tyler to spend as much time together as possible.”

“Hard to do when you live in San Francisco.”

She wanted to say that if this was so damned important, he could be the one to move. He could run his businesses from there. Only she knew that wasn’t possible or practical. That most people would say she should be the one to compromise. To turn her life upside down and move back to Fool’s Gold. Because it would be better for everyone.

Everyone but her.

“I need to get back,” she concluded. “I have to work before the kids get home from camp.”

They walked to the parking lot together. Liz tried to think of something to say—another compromise that they could both live with. But it didn’t exist.

When she pulled out the keys to her small SUV, Ethan grabbed her arm. He pulled her around and there, in the middle of the afternoon, in an open parking lot, on a Thursday, he kissed her.

His mouth claimed hers with a combination of need, anger and determination she could relate to. Instead of pulling away, she leaned into him, kissing him back just as passionately, letting her emotions flow through her. Their lips clung, their bodies strained. He wrapped one arm around her waist, she put her free hand on his shoulder.

For a single moment, there was nothing but the heat of the sun and the man who held her. There was wanting and promise and in that space of time, anything was possible. Then sanity returned in the sharp honk of a horn, the sounds of traffic and the realization that this problem was bigger than a kiss.

Ethan released her. She stepped back. Without saying a word, they each got in their own car and drove away.

* * *

LIZ ARRIVED HOME KNOWING THAT if she wasn’t expecting three children to walk in the front door in the next hour or so, she would give in to the theory that it was five o’clock somewhere and pour a big glass of wine. As it was, she changed into jeans and a T-shirt and medicated herself with Diet Coke and two peanut butter cookies. She’d barely taken her first bite, had yet to feel the sugar coursing through her body, when someone knocked on the front door.

She found herself hesitating before answering. In this town, unexpected company was rarely the good kind. A theory confirmed when she pulled open the door and found Ethan’s mother standing there.

Liz did her best not to flinch. She knew better than to show fear in the face of a predator. Denise Hendrix smiled and held out a covered casserole dish.

“Mac and cheese,” she said. “It was Ethan’s favorite when he was growing up. Actually it was all my kids’ favorite. What is it about children and cheese and pasta?”

Denise looked both friendly and hopeful.

Liz once again wished for wine or a margarita. When neither appeared, she stepped back to let the other woman in.

“You’ll want to put this in the fridge,” Denise continued. “It only needs to be heated. About forty minutes at three-fifty. Oh, and take off the foil.”

“Thanks,” Liz said, taking the dish and walking into the kitchen. “Can I get you anything?”

“No. I’m fine. Were you working? Am I interrupting?”

“I’ve been dealing with other things today,” Liz said, wondering if she should mention the visit with the judge or leave that for Ethan to share. She wasn’t completely sure about Denise’s reason for stopping by. Somehow the food delivery seemed more like an excuse than a plan.

“Do you have deadlines?” Denise asked.

“Yes. I usually stay on top of them. This summer has been a challenge.”

“You’ve been dealing with a lot.”

Sympathy? Was it safe to trust it? “There are unique circumstances.”

Denise leaned against the counter. “I know about the injunction and I’m sorry my son was such an idiot. I hope it went well with the judge.”

So his mother already knew. Is that why she’d stopped by? But why not wait and get the story from her son? “We saw her this afternoon. It was interesting.” Liz explained how she and Ethan had until the end of summer to come up with a plan.

“Do you know what you’re going to agree on?” Denise asked.

“Not yet. I know what Ethan wants.” Liz said the last sentence defiantly. Because it would be what Denise wanted, too.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” the other woman told her. “That you had to go through having a baby on your own. I remember when I was pregnant with Ethan. I was terrified. You were younger and alone. That couldn’t have been easy.”

Liz forced herself to relax. She moved to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair, then waited for Denise to do the same before sitting.

“I had a few difficult moments,” she admitted. “Luckily I found a shelter for pregnant girls. It was nice not to be completely by myself. I saw a doctor, got the right kind of food and vitamins.”

“I wish we’d known,” Denise offered. “I wish you’d come to me.”

Liz stared at her. “I appreciate what you’re saying but that would never have happened.” It wouldn’t have occurred to her. Not ever, but especially not after Ethan had rejected her so publicly.

“I understand. I wish I’d known the two of you were together. Maybe I would have thought to check on you.”

Rather than say something she would regret, Liz pressed her lips together and nodded slightly.

“I knew what they were saying about you, back then,” Denise told her. “I always felt so bad for you. I wish your mother had protected you more.”

“She was the real problem. I wasn’t doing those things. I wasn’t that girl, but no one cared to look beyond the rumors. Well, except for Ethan and then, not so much.”

Denise frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter. It was a long time ago.”

“It matters to me.” She leaned toward Liz. “Why did you leave that first time?”

Liz tried to be vague. This was Denise’s son, after all. “We had a fight.”

“I don’t believe that’s the only reason.”

Liz drew in a breath. “You should ask him.”

“I’m asking you.” Denise gave her a faint smile. “Don’t make me use my ‘bad mom’ voice. I have six kids and a lot of practice.”

Fine. If the woman wanted to know, Liz would tell her.

“Ethan and I had been going out for two months. He didn’t want anyone to know. Despite how much he said he loved me, I think he was a little embarrassed by my reputation. I was going to join him at college, where no one would know about me. We were going to be together. I loved him. He was my first boyfriend. My first kiss. My first…” She cleared her throat. “You know.”

“I can imagine. Then what happened?”

“I was working at the diner. Ethan was in with his friends, like always. I used to think it was so romantic that no one knew. It was our secret.” Knowing Ethan loved her had made her feel special.

“Josh mentioned seeing us together. All Ethan’s friends started going after him, wanting to know if he was ‘doing me.’” She laced her fingers together, determined to stay in the moment, to not remember too much. “He said he barely knew who I was. That he would never be interested in someone like me.”

Denise flinched. “Oh, Liz. I’m so sorry.”

She shrugged. “I was humiliated and hurt. I could feel my heart breaking. I dumped a milk shake on his head and walked out. That was the last time we spoke. When I found out I was pregnant, I came back to tell him. I found him in bed with another girl.”

“Oh, God.” Denise touched her arm. “That’s awful. I don’t know what else to say.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. Nothing about the situation is okay.” Denise shook her head. “It’s Ralph, and that damned idea of his that we’re the Hendrixes. The family that founded Fool’s Gold.” She sounded frustrated. “Reputation is everything. Act right, do right, be right. Emotions be damned.”

Denise sighed. “I loved my husband from the moment I first saw him, but he wasn’t easy. And he passed all that righteousness onto Ethan.”

Liz wasn’t surprised. “He was the oldest.”

“Exactly.”

“Being with someone like me violated everything his father had ever said. I get it.” Liz spoke as if the words didn’t hurt her and hoped the other woman couldn’t see the truth.

“For Ralph, the world was black and white. Reality is much more gray. I don’t think Ethan was mature enough to see that.”

Denise sounded sincere and conciliatory, which Liz appreciated, but it also made her uncomfortable.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “The past is over. Tyler and I have been fine. I’ve taken good care of him.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Denise assured her. “But while you’ve been busy taking care of your son, who’s taken care of you?”

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

Denise smiled gently. “Liz, we all need someone. And now you have us. I hope you’ll accept me and my children into your family. You’re a part of us now.”

It was as if she could hear a door slam somewhere in the distance. No. Not a door—a gate. Denise was Tyler’s grandmother. He had aunts and uncles. However far she might want to run, she was bound to these people forever, and for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out if that was a good thing or a bad one.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

LIZ HAD DONE HER BEST TO prepare Roy’s daughters for the reality of seeing their father in prison, but words couldn’t begin to explain the experience. Not only did Melissa and Liz have to leave their cell phones in the car, Abby wasn’t allowed to bring gum. She’d had to tell the girls not to wear chambray shirts or jeans because the color was forbidden for visitors. It was what the prisoners wore. They all had to make sure their shirts had sleeves and that they would have to pass through a metal detector before they could see their father.

Their cheerful mood during the drive had faded, the closer they got to the prison, then disappeared when they stopped by the structure. Liz understood completely. There was no way to look at the forbidding building and feel anticipation.

They followed the other visitors to an open patio where Roy hovered. He looked both excited and nervous.

“You came,” he said, when he saw them.

Abby rushed toward him and he embraced her, but Melissa hung back.

“It’s all right,” Liz told her.

Melissa shook her head. “It’s not,” she whispered. “He’s not getting out of here, is he?”

Liz’s throat tightened. “It will be a while.”

“How could he do this? How could he leave us?”

Liz didn’t know what to say.

“He’s still your dad,” she managed to murmur. “He still loves you.”

Melissa swallowed. “Loving us isn’t going to be enough.”

She slowly approached her father, then hugged him.

The three of them settled on a picnic table. Liz hung back, wanting to give them private time together. She sat by herself, reading the book she’d brought, trying to ignore the other reunions going on around her. Some groups were happy, but others were quiet, marked with tears and obvious pain.

About an hour later, Roy walked over to sit next to her.

“They told me that you’re having the house fixed up,” he relayed, avoiding her gaze. “Thanks for that. I got the paperwork that lawyer sent. I’ve already signed it and sent it back.”

She nodded. The house was being put into a trust for the girls.

“When it’s finished, I’ll talk to a real estate agent again and we’ll figure out if it’s better to sell it now and invest the money or keep it and rent it out.”

Roy nodded. “Do whatever you think is best. You were always the smart one in the family.”

“Either way they’ll have money for their future.” They wouldn’t need it for college. If either of her nieces wanted to go, Liz would pay for it herself. She thought about saying that but thought Roy might think she was showing off. The situation was awkward enough already.

“I signed that other paper, too,” her brother told her, looking at her for the first time. “The one making you their legal guardian. I told them that they have to do what you said. Mel’s mad because you want to move them to San Francisco. I told her it was for the best.”

“I doubt she believed you.”

“She’ll get over it. She’s just a kid.” He shifted uneasily. “I was thinking you probably shouldn’t bring them back to see me again. It’s too hard on them.”

Liz had a feeling the person he was most concerned about was himself. “Are you going to write them?”

“Sure. Sure. I sent that one letter.”

“They’ll want to hear from you. You’re their father.”

“I know. I said I’d write.”

“Okay,” she murmured. “I’ll make sure they write you, too, and let you know what’s going on with them.”

“Thanks, Liz.”

“Sure.”

He returned to his daughters. A few minutes later, the girls walked over to her.

There were tears in their eyes. Abby tried to smile but failed. Melissa, like her father, wouldn’t look at Liz.

“Ready to go?” Liz asked.

Abby nodded.

They returned to the car. The afternoon was warm, the sky a cloudless blue. She cranked up the air conditioning until it blasted them, then headed for the freeway.

“Dad said you were our legal guardian now,” Melissa reported as she stared out the window.

“I am.” Liz clutched the steering wheel. “It’s not that he doesn’t love you. This just makes things easier. Like if you have to go to the doctor’s, I can sign the paperwork.”

“Or make us move,” Melissa said bitterly. “You’re not our mom.”

“I’m not trying to be,” Liz explained, refusing to take the attack personally.

“Can’t we stay?” Abby asked softly from the back-seat.

“No,” Melissa told her, turning to glare at her. “We can’t. Aunt Liz is going to make us move and we can’t stop her. If we run away, the police will find us and bring us back. She can do anything she likes. Even dump us in foster care.”

Liz merged onto the freeway. “Melissa, that’s enough,” she said sternly. “You can be mad at me if you want, but don’t take it out on Abby. No one is going into foster care and you know it. You may not like the idea of moving, but in the few weeks you’ve known me I’ve done my best to take care of you.”

“You might be able to make us move, but I’ll never forgive you,” Melissa announced. “I’ll hate you forever.”

“Something we’ll both have to live with,” Liz told her.

She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Abby was crying. Melissa had her head turned away, so Liz wasn’t sure how upset she was. Nothing about this situation was easy, she thought sadly. Nothing was the way it was supposed to be.

No one spoke. After a few minutes, she turned on the radio. A while later, Abby’s tears stopped. She sniffed every now and then but otherwise was silent. Melissa sat stiffly in her seat. When they finally arrived back in Fool’s Gold, Liz was actually relieved to be in town.

She drove directly to the house and had barely put the car in park before Melissa jumped out. Abby followed her sister.

Liz got out more slowly, then came to a stop when she saw Ethan at the top of the porch stairs.

He’d spent the morning with Tyler and no doubt wanted to complain about something or throw her under a nearby bus. She was too tired and drained for another fight, but telling him that felt like admitting weakness.

“I take it things didn’t go well,” he guessed as he approached her.

“Knowing their dad is in prison and seeing him there are two different things. They’re upset.”

He was tall and handsome and the fact that she noticed made her want to stomp her foot in frustration. Why did he have to be the one man on the planet able to win her with a single look? Even now, with the injunction, the past and everything else between them, all she could think about was stepping into his strong embrace and letting him handle things for a little while.

“They took it out on you,” he assumed, not asking a question.

“I’m an easy target.”

He reached toward her. She thought about stepping back but instead braced herself. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

The light brush of his fingers against her skin made her warm inside and a little stronger. Craziness, she told herself. Ethan might not be the enemy, but he wasn’t exactly her friend.

“Let’s go riding,” he offered.

“What?”

“We’ll rent bikes. For all of us. Getting out of the house will make Melissa and Abby feel better and you won’t have to deal with them alone.”

“It makes me nervous when you’re nice,” she admitted.

“I guess I should be nice more often so you get used to it.”

“I find that unlikely.”

He gave her a slow, sexy smile. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Very funny. I was trying to indicate I’m not sure you can be nice.”

“Try me.”

She would like to, even if that made her the local idiot. “I think a bike ride would be safer.”

* * *

A HALF HOUR LATER, THEY HAD bikes and were making their way around the lake. Sunlight sparkled on the water where paddle boats glided. Families sat on the grass or under the trees. On the other side of the bike path, teenaged boys played with a Frisbee.

Ethan hung back, wanting to make sure that Melissa and Abby were both comfortable and safe as they rode. Abby stayed close to Liz, talking easily. Melissa was in front, her shoulders stiff, her pace determined. The teenager was obviously still angry.

Tyler was on the other side of his mother. Ethan watched his son weave back and forth, deliberately riding a serpentine course. Every now and then he took both hands off the handlebars, causing his mother to glance at him. Tyler grinned and returned his hands to the bars.

When a family on bikes came toward them on the wide, paved path, everyone moved to the side. Melissa wobbled a little and had to put her foot down to keep from falling. Ethan rode up to her.

“Been a long time,” he said with a grin. “It’ll come back to you.”

“Riding bikes is for kids,” she said, pouting.

“Ever hear of the Tour de France?”

She sniffed. “That’s some big race.”

“Right. Know what they ride?”

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Kids and weird people.”

He held in a laugh.

They were a ways back from Liz and the kids. He lowered his voice.

“Who are you really mad at? Your dad for being in prison or Liz for wanting to move back to San Francisco?”

She turned away. “I’m mad at Liz.”

“I don’t believe that.”

She glared at him, tears filling her eyes. “You don’t know anything.”

“I know some. I know this is hard. I know you’re about the bravest person I know, taking care of your sister like that. And I know Liz dropped everything to come here the second she got your e-mail.”

Melissa sucked in a breath. “Maybe.”

He didn’t know if she was talking about herself or Liz and decided not to push it.

“I don’t want to leave here and she’s going to make me,” Melissa said.

Not a subject he could be neutral about, he thought. He didn’t want Liz to go, either. But he also knew this was a chance for him to protect Liz’s back and show her that he wasn’t the bad guy in all of this.

“She’s taking you away from all your friends and never letting you come back, huh?” he asked. “That sucks.”

Melissa glanced at him. “She said I could still see my friends. You know, on the weekends Tyler’s with you. And I’ll have my cell phone.”

He didn’t say anything.

She sighed. “It won’t be the same.”

“That’s part of growing up. Things change.”

“But I don’t want this.”

“That happens, too.”

There were a lot of things he didn’t want. He didn’t want to have missed the first eleven years of his son’s life. But no matter how he yelled or complained or threatened, nothing about the situation would change.

“Sometimes you have to accept how things are,” he said as much to himself as to Melissa. “You can make it easy on yourself, or you can make it hard. The choice is yours.”

“Maybe I don’t want to grow up,” she argued.

“After what you’ve already been through?” He smiled. “Sorry, Melissa. It’s happening and you’re turning out great.”

“Can we get ice cream?” Tyler asked, looking back at Ethan.

“I think ice cream is a good idea,” Liz agreed. She pointed to the stand up ahead. “Something dipped in chocolate would be very nice.”

Beside her, Abby laughed. “You really like chocolate.”

“I do. It’s a chick thing.”

“Ice cream for everyone,” Ethan concurred. He turned to Melissa. “You okay?”

She nodded.

Fifteen minutes later they were all stretched out on the grass, in the shade, eating ice cream. Abby stayed close to Liz, as did Tyler. Melissa was a few feet away, by herself. Ethan found himself wishing Liz were leaning against him the way Abby leaned against her. Because being angry didn’t mean he stopped wanting her.

It had always been that way, he reminded himself. It had been the first day of his senior year of school. He’d been walking down the hallway when he’d spotted Liz. She’d had that shy, terrified look that told him she was unprepared for the transition from junior high.

Even then she’d been beautiful. Tall and slim, with curves in the right places. There’d been something about the way she’d carried herself—with a warning that you could look but you couldn’t touch. She didn’t make eye contact with anyone.

One of Ethan’s friends had nudged him.

“See that girl there? She’s Liz Sutton. I’ve heard she puts out as much as her mom. I hope it’s true.”

Ethan didn’t know what combination of events had started the rumors about Liz. Maybe the girls in school had resented how beautiful she was. Maybe the boys had hated that she wouldn’t pay attention to them. But in a matter of weeks, everyone knew Liz Sutton had a reputation for being easy and cheap.

Even so, he’d been attracted to her. Not just for the potential sex, but because he’d seen something in her eyes. Something that called to him.

He’d spoken to her a few times that year. Or at least he’d tried. She’d always turned away and disappeared with an ease that told him she was well practiced at vanishing. Then he’d graduated and gone off to college, nearly forgetting all about Liz.

Until the summer before his senior year. When he’d come home in May and literally run into her on the sidewalk. He’d taken one look at her and known he had to have her.

His initial interest had been about how she looked, but he’d quickly discovered there was a smart brain behind the green eyes. That Liz had a wicked sense of humor and yet a moral compass that appealed to him. He’d learned she was kind and self-aware and that no one else had ever kissed her. He’d been her first…for everything.

“Ethan, what are you thinking?” Liz asked. “You have the strangest look on your face.”

He smiled. “I was remembering that you were the smartest girl in school.”

Liz wrinkled her nose. “Hardly.”

Abby and Tyler both looked at him. “Really?” Tyler asked. “Mom was smart?”

“Hey, kiddo. I’m plenty smart now,” Liz pointed out.

He grinned at her, then turned back to Ethan.

“She was,” he told them. “All As in her classes. A scholarship to college.” Which she hadn’t used because of him, he reminded himself.

“That was a long time ago,” Liz reminded, avoiding his gaze. “School was easy for me. I liked to read. Books were my friends.”

“Is that why you write now?” Melissa asked. “Because you used to read?”

“I’m sure that’s part of it. One of the best ways to learn how to write is to read.”

“How can you have a book for a friend?” Abby asked. “You can’t talk to them.”

“No, but they can take you away to another place. With books, the world feels safe.”

Abby and Melissa looked at each other, then back at her.

“Could you give me the name of some books to read?” Abby asked quietly.

“Sure. We can go to the library later.”

“I like to read, too,” Tyler said.

“Are you going to be a writer?” Melissa asked. “When you grow up?”

Tyler shook his head. “I want to build stuff, like my dad.”

Ethan happened to be looking at Liz as their son spoke. She didn’t react at all, as if she’d already heard this. But to him, the information was new and filled him with a sense of pride. He waited for that to be followed by resentment—after all, he’d already lost so much.

The feelings were there, but not as intense as before. The loss, the anger was muted somehow. Less important. Liz had been right—he couldn’t have a relationship in the present if he kept living in the past. What mattered with Tyler was today.

His gaze drifted over Liz’s face. She was a part of his son’s life. He couldn’t have one without dealing with the other. He’d loved Liz once—as much as he could at that age. With a limited life experience and nothing much ever required of him. He’d been a child in a man’s body. He was older now. But all that life experience hadn’t made him a whole lot smarter when it came to Liz.

* * *

THE AFTERNOON OF BIKE RIDING stretched into a dinner out, followed by a movie. By the time Ethan walked Liz and the kids home, it was after ten and everyone was tired.

Liz felt her own emotional exhaustion sucking at every step and knew the girls had to be ready to collapse, as well. For once, no one protested getting ready for bed. While she checked on the girls, Ethan said good-night to Tyler. They met downstairs. Liz was prepared to thank him for the day and show him the door, but something in his eyes stopped her. They were bright with an emotion she didn’t recognize.

“I never got to do that before,” he revealed quietly. “Put him to bed.”

There was nothing accusatory in his tone, and still she felt as if he’d hit her in the stomach. Her body stiffened as guilt flooded her. Then like a montage in a movie, she saw her son’s life as a series of pictures.

Somehow in the challenge of raising a baby alone, she’d forgotten about the magical moments Ethan had missed. The first smile, first step, first word. First day of school, first friend. But even more painful were the everyday things she took for granted. The moments that made a relationship.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and sank onto the sofa. “I’m so sorry.”

He sat next to her and wrapped his arms around her. For once, she let herself lean on someone as everything crashed in on her. Being back in town, the stress with her nieces, the reality of dealing with Ethan again. He might be the cause, but he was also the only safe haven she’d ever known. While their time together had ended badly, that was for another time. This was about now and maybe what could have been.

“I never wanted it to be like this,” she muttered, fighting tears.

He touched his fingers to her chin, easing her head up until they looked at each other.

“I know,” he told her.

“It’s mostly your fault,” she declared with a sniff.

“I’ll take some of the blame.”

“I can’t believe you married Rayanne.”

She hadn’t meant to say that and as soon as the words popped out, she covered her mouth.

“I take it back,” she said quickly. “I’m sure she was lovely.” After all, Pia had changed into a nice, normal person. Rayanne could have had the same sort of transformation.

He angled toward her, his hand resting on her shoulder. “You mean, why did I marry her?”

“I didn’t ask you that. I’m assuming the normal kind of thing. Dating, falling in love, marriage.”

His dark gaze held hers. “You know about my bike crash in my senior year of college?”

She nodded.

“It was a moment of bad judgment or bad luck. I zigged when I should have zagged.” He shrugged. “I hit Josh’s bike, but I was the one who went down. I was hurt bad enough that I couldn’t race again.”

“That must have changed everything.” She remembered how he’d loved the sport. How winning mattered more than nearly anything. Without wanting to, she recalled the night he’d vowed that she was more important than anything else. How he loved her more than winning. She’d been young enough and foolish enough to want to believe him.

“I didn’t take it well,” he admitted. “I was angry and blamed Josh. He felt guilty enough that we didn’t talk for over ten years.”

That stunned her. “He was your best friend.”

“Yeah, well, we can both be stubborn. Things are fine now.”

“I hope so.”

“You’re too softhearted.”

“I pretend-murder people for a living. How softhearted can I be?”

“I’ll remember that.” He reached for her hand with his. “I finished school and came back to town. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, but I wasn’t going to do it here. A few weeks later, my dad dropped dead of a heart attack. I’m the oldest. Suddenly it was all up to me.”

“The family business,” she murmured. “You never wanted to go into construction.”

“I didn’t have a choice. There were six people depending on me. My mom fell apart. The girls were still in high school, my brothers needed to finish college. So I did what had to be done. But I didn’t like it.”

She hadn’t liked being responsible for a newborn. Maybe that’s what life was about—doing the things that had to be done without expecting anything in return.

“I grew up those first few years,” he admitted. “Painfully, kicking and screaming. Then one day I realized I liked building things. I liked starting a project and seeing it through. By then nearly four years had gone by and I hadn’t been out on a date. One day Rayanne walked into my office and asked me out. It shocked the hell out of me.”

Because Ethan wouldn’t see himself as sexy, smart and dependable. Three irresistible qualities when it came to picking a husband.

“We started dating,” he said, averting his gaze. “One thing led to another. I liked her, but I knew she wasn’t ‘the one.’ The day I planned to break up with her, she told me that she was pregnant.”

Liz did her best to keep her expression neutral. To not give in to the churning emotions inside her.

Pia had already told her that he’d married Rayanne because she was pregnant. But she couldn’t help feeling annoyed. No, more than annoyed.

There was a voice in her demanding why Rayanne and not her? Reminding the voice he hadn’t known she was pregnant didn’t make her feel any better.

“You seem to have a track record of unplanned pregnancies,” she told him. “Haven’t you ever heard about birth control?”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “That’s what my mom said. Only with a little more emotion.”

“I would think so. If we weren’t having this very nice moment, I’d smack you on the back of the head and tell you to be more careful.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She sighed. “So you married her. And then I showed up and because you’d told her about our relationship, she felt threatened.”

“Probably.”

“We’ve both really messed up,” she said.

“I guess we have.”

They smiled at each other then, and she found herself getting lost in his gaze. When he shifted toward her, she moved the last few inches, bringing her mouth to his.

This kiss was more tender than the last one. His firm mouth teased hers, making her melt even as she wrapped her arms around him.

He pulled her closer, their legs tangling on the sofa. She parted her lips and he eased inside, his tongue stroking hers. Need blossomed, but she ignored the wanting. Not only were there three kids upstairs, she wasn’t ready to make love with Ethan. Last time had been unplanned—an event driven by passion. She’d been able to walk away, only slightly scarred by the experience. This time would be different. This time there would be emotional complications and they were the last thing she needed.

Apparently he was feeling the same. They kissed again and again, but he didn’t push things further. She savored the feel of his body next to hers, enjoyed the heat building inside. It had been a long time since she’d really wanted a man. Wanted this man. Because Ethan could do things to her no one else could.

He drew back and they stared at each other.

“I should probably go,” he murmured.

She nodded, and shifted so he could stand. When she rose, he pulled her to him and kissed her again. After glancing at the ceiling, he exhaled slowly.

“You have a houseful of kids up there,” he noted.

“I know.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “Damn.”

She touched his face, rubbing her fingers against the stubble. For a second she allowed herself to think what it would be like if they were alone. If there weren’t other considerations. If she didn’t have to worry about losing her heart to a man she couldn’t trust.

He kissed her lightly, then walked to the door. “I’ll see you soon.”

She nodded and followed him onto the porch. He walked down the steps, along the path, then turned onto the sidewalk. After he was gone, she stood there, looking up at the night sky, admiring the stars. Two months ago her life had been so routine, she thought. So predictable. Things had changed quickly, and she couldn’t be sure where she would be two months from now.

There was something fun about the not knowing, she told herself. Then she leaned against the porch pillar and breathed in the scent of the night.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

LIZ HAD NEVER BEEN TO A WAKE before and wasn’t sure what to wear. And it was blisteringly hot, which limited her options. She settled on a green sleeveless dress and cream-colored sandals. Word of the celebration of Crystal’s too-short life had come from Montana, who had phoned her two days before and asked her to bring a salad. Apparently the wake was a potluck.

As the type of salad hadn’t been specified, Liz had settled on a favorite pasta and mixed lettuce salad that was both healthy and delicious. Normally, she enjoyed making the salad, but this morning her heart hadn’t been in it. Crystal’s death was just too sad, her life over too soon. Even though they hadn’t been close in years, Liz felt the loss of someone she’d considered a friend.

She’d done her best to avoid thinking about where she was going and what would happen when she got there. She had a vision of a bunch of people sitting around in a quiet room, speaking softly, with everyone trying not to cry. Liz didn’t want to share her emotions in public, that was for sure.

But when she got to Jo’s Bar she was surprised to find what sounded like a party going on. The main room was full of people laughing and talking. Music played in the background and a slide show of pictures of Crystal and a handsome young man in a marine uniform flashed on a big-screen TV.

“Hi. Thanks for coming. We’re putting food in the back room,” Montana greeted as Liz entered. “On the pool tables.”

The tone was friendly but not especially welcoming. Sort of the way one spoke to a stranger.

Liz froze. After all this time, was Montana now blaming her for what happened with Ethan and Tyler? She felt stricken. It wasn’t as if she had a lot of friends in town—she didn’t want to lose one now.

“Are you…” she began, only to stop.

While the woman standing in front of her looked very much like Montana, there were differences. Shorter hair, a faint scar on the right cheek. A different way of standing.

Triplets, Liz thought in relief. Montana was one of three identical triplets.

“You’re not who I thought,” Liz explained.

“Who were you expecting?” the other woman asked.

“Montana. I’m Liz Sutton. We met at the girls’ night at my house.”

Ethan’s sister smiled. “I remember. I’m Dakota.”

“Hi.”

“How are you holding up? It’s got to be difficult, moving back here, dealing with Ethan and taking on Roy’s kids.”

“I’m handling it. Some days better than others.”

“If you ever need anything, call me. I’m always up for babysitting or whatever.”

“Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”

“Hey, you’re family now.”

“I appreciate that.” She raised her bowl. “I’ll put this with the other food.”

“Great. Jo’s serving pink grapefruit martinis at the bar. She and Crystal created them one night about a year ago and they’re surprisingly good.”

As it was barely two in the afternoon and she had three kids coming home around four, Liz agreed but privately told herself she would only have one.

She made her way through the bar, stopping to greet the few people she knew. She felt herself relaxing. It was unlikely anyone would verbally attack her at Crystal’s wake. This was a time to focus on the young woman who had died. And Dakota’s offer to help had been both unexpected and really nice.

After dropping off the salad next to several other dishes, she returned to the main room, where she saw Pia talking to a group of women.

Liz started to approach them, then stopped, not sure if she should join in. Pia made the decision for her by excusing herself from her friends and walking over to Liz.

“Hi,” Pia said, her eyes red from tears. Her mascara was smudged, her face pale. “I’m a mess.”

“You’re missing a close friend,” Liz stated, giving her an impulsive hug. “It’s okay to be a mess.”

Pia hugged her, then stepped back. “I guess. I can’t believe she’s gone. It’s not a surprise, and yet I can’t seem to get my mind around it.”

“We never expect people to die, even when we know they’re going to.”

Pia nodded slowly. “You’re right. But knowing that doesn’t make it easier.”

“I’m sorry. That will take time.”

Pia’s eyes filled with tears again. “It’s so damned unfair, you know? Crystal was a sweetie. She’d already lost so much. And then to die like this.”

Liz didn’t know what Pia was talking about. “I thought she was sick.”

“She was.” Pia sniffed. “I meant the other part. She was married. He was a soldier in Iraq.”

Liz looked around the room but didn’t see any men who fit that description. “Is he still over there?”

Pia shook her head. “He died. Because they knew that would be a possibility, they decided to make sure there were children. They used IVF to create several embryos before he left, just in case.”

Liz gasped. “Crystal has children?” That would make it worse.

“Not exactly. After her husband died, she went to have the embryos implanted. During a routine physical, she found out she had cancer.” Pia’s eyes filled again. “Can you imagine? She couldn’t even have her husband’s children. I don’t know how she kept going every day. She was so nice. I’ll never be that nice.”

Liz hugged her friend again. “You’re perfectly nice.”

“Not really. I try. I was horrible in high school, but you know that. I want to be better. I have her cat and I swear I’ll do everything possible to make that cat happy.” She sniffed again. “I guess I should buy a book or something. ‘Cat Happiness for Dummies.’”

Liz didn’t mean to be insensitive, but she couldn’t help laughing. “I’m not sure they have that title yet.”

“I have to do something. I guess I should really be grateful she only left me the cat. She had those embryos. I don’t know what arrangements she made for them.”

Liz hadn’t thought about that, but it made sense. Crystal would be concerned about her unborn children. “That would be a lot of responsibility,” she conceded quietly.

“Figuring out what to do with them?” Pia asked.

“Sure. Implied in the gift is the request to have the babies, then raise them.”

“I’m glad it’s not me,” Pia noted. “A cat is about all I could handle. I’m not very maternal.”

“You don’t know until you try.”

“I have trouble keeping plants alive. I don’t really do the nurturing thing.”

Liz shook her head. “Do you think I was prepared to have Tyler? You do what’s required. At first it’s hard, but then it gets easier.”

“I need a drink,” Pia muttered. “Let’s go see what Jo’s pouring.”

They made their way to the bar. Before they reached it, an older woman paused to glare at Liz.

She felt a sinking sensation in her stomach and wondered if she could escape out the back way. But before the plan formed, the woman spoke.

“You should have married him,” the older woman snapped, her eyes nearly as blue as her hair. A shapeless floral print dress hung past her knees and her sensible shoes gave her an extra inch of height. “It’s disgraceful. In my generation, if a girl got pregnant, she married the father of her child. Now young people have sex and don’t worry about the consequences.”

Liz opened her mouth, then closed it. What was there to say? Her mind was totally blank, except for the continual chanting of “Anywhere but here.”

Pia stepped in front of her and waved her index finger at the woman. “Back off, Esmeralda. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Liz was a kid. If you’re so concerned about what’s right, why didn’t you step in back then? Why didn’t you talk like this to Liz’s mother? Everyone knew what was happening at her house. Where was your moral code then?”

Esmeralda pressed her thin lips together. “Well, I never.”

“Now you have,” Pia declared firmly. “This is my friend’s wake. Do you really think Crystal would want you talking like this here?”

Liz, feeling all warm and fuzzy and supported, expected the older woman to snap back at Pia.

“You’re right,” Esmeralda said primly. She turned to Liz. “I apologize. For Crystal’s sake.”

“Thank you,” Liz acknowledged, stunned.

Pia linked arms with Liz and took her the rest of the way to the bar. “See? It’s not so bad here.”

“I can’t always count on you to rescue me.”

“I will if I’m there. And let me say for the record, that shows what an amazing person I am.”

Liz accepted the drink Jo passed her. “Because I don’t deserve you defending me?”

Pia took her drink, smiled her thanks, then turned back to Liz. “You walk really straight for someone with such a big chip on her shoulder. It’s impressive.”

Liz bristled. “I don’t have a chip.”

“Oh, please. It’s huge. The size of a small car. Which must make sleeping difficult.”

Liz narrowed her gaze. “Are you drunk?”

“No, but I plan to be.” She took a big swallow of her martini. “My point was you’re so damned perfect, I should hate you, but here I am taking your side. You should be grateful. And maybe buy me a diamond or something.”

Liz had barely sipped her own drink, but her head was spinning. “I’m not perfect.”

Pia rolled her eyes. “As if that’s true. Look at you. You were gorgeous in high school, and now you’re even more beautiful. Worse, you don’t seem to notice. It’s not like you go out of your way to be attractive. It just happens. Have you ever seen me in the morning? No. Well, let me just say without some serious work, I can’t walk out of the house. I would scar small children for life.”

Liz didn’t know if she should laugh or run for her life. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe, but it’s true. Even more horrible, you’re smart. Everyone knows it. Back in school, the teachers always talked about you. ‘Why can’t you be smart and dedicated like Liz?’” she repeated in a mocking tone. Pia took another sip. “You ruined it for all of us.”

Now Liz couldn’t help laughing. “I did not.”

“Ya huh. You so did. And now. Look at you. You’re a famous mystery-thriller writer person. You’ve got that damn scholarship in your name at the stupid community college. You have a great kid. What do I have? A cat who doesn’t even like me and three dead house-plants.”

Pia looked miserable and defiant and slightly tipsy. Liz took her free hand and squeezed her fingers. “I’m not all that, and you have so much more than you listed. You have a great job and a community and people who love you. Crystal loved you.”

Pia wiped tears from her face. “She did and she was great. But you have character and I never did.”

Liz kept a hold on her fingers. “You have enough character for all of us. Trust me.”

Pia’s wide eyes filled with tears again. “You promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

* * *

ETHAN PUNCHED THE BUTTON TO increase the incline on the elliptical. It was midafternoon and the gym was quiet. A few high school guys worked out with the free weights and there was a yoga class going on in the glass-enclosed area at the far end of the building.

“This is how girls work out,” Ethan grumbled as he wiped away sweat.

Josh grinned at him. “We could have gone bike riding.”

“I didn’t have time. Unlike you, I work for a living.”

“I work,” Josh protested. “Not very hard, but I work.”

His friend had called to suggest they head to the gym together. They’d briefly discussed a thirty-mile bike ride, but Ethan had meetings later that afternoon. As much as he would have enjoyed the mountainous route, it would have to wait for another day.

“Maybe this weekend,” Josh suggested. “If you’re not too busy with Tyler.”

“Why are you free on the weekend?” Ethan knew his friend, a recent newlywed, spent every free second with his wife.

“Charity and Mayor Marsha are going to San Francisco to shop for the baby’s room.”

Ethan grinned. “You don’t want a say in colors and accessories?”

Josh shuddered visibly. “No, thanks. I just want the baby to be healthy.”

“And a boy.”

Josh chuckled. “I wouldn’t say no to a boy. But we’re waiting to find out. Charity wants to be surprised.”

Ethan felt the burn in his legs and increased the pace of his workout. “You scared?” he asked.

Josh shrugged, then nodded. “Sometimes. When I think about it. What do I know about being a father?”

Ethan could relate to that. The difference was Josh got to start small—with a newborn. Of course a baby was a whole different set of worries.

“I know what you mean,” he said.

“How’s it going with Tyler?”

“Good. Great. He’s bright and funny. Athletic.”

“You see yourself in him?”

“Yeah, but there’s a lot of Liz, too.”

“Is that bad?” Josh asked.

“Sometimes,” Ethan admitted, wiping away sweat. “I’m dealing, not that I have a choice. But when I think too much about what she did…” He grabbed his water bottle and swallowed several gulps.

Going there, getting riled up, accomplished nothing, Ethan reminded himself. It was a waste of time and energy.

“She speaking to you?” Josh inquired.

“Sure. Why?”

“The injunction. I would have figured she’d come after you with something sharp.”

“She wasn’t happy,” he commented. “I reacted. It wasn’t smart. But it’s done now.”

“Can’t you undo it?”

Ethan thought about the judge. She didn’t seem like the type of person who would support him changing his mind. And he wasn’t willing to test the theory and risk jail time.

“We’ll figure out a plan,” he declared.

“Charity said Pia told her Liz came back as soon as she found out she was pregnant. But you were other wise engaged.”

“I was asleep,” Ethan protested.

“With Pia in your bed.”

“Still.”

Josh grabbed a towel and wiped his face. “Sorry to tell you this, but Liz pretty much gets a pass. She left town because you threw her under the bus and then you were in bed with another woman when she came back to tell you about the baby. There’s no way you’re the good guy.”

“She kept my kid from me. Nothing excuses that.” No matter what, Ethan had lost something unrecoverable.

“I’m not saying it’s an excuse. I’m saying you’re not blameless.”

“Maybe.” He didn’t want to think about that. “Everything would have been different if she’d stuck around. Woken me up. Hit me with something.”

“That’s not her way.”

“You know this how?” Ethan asked.

“She left. She was hurt and she went quietly. You might not want to admit it, but from what I can see, she did a hell of a job with her kid.”

“I know.” He had no complaints about Liz as a mother to his son.

“Maybe she’s not the one you’re mad at,” Josh guessed.

Ethan’s legs ached, his muscles shook slightly with the effort of his workout. He pushed harder, not wanting to hear his friend’s words, let alone think about them. Then the machine beeped, indicating his thirty-minute program had ended. He slowed reluctantly.

“Sure Liz didn’t tell you when she first found out,” Josh continued. “But the real tough one is that she came back.”

Ethan stepped off the machine and grabbed his towel. “Thanks for the update.”

Josh ignored that. “Rayanne kept the truth from you. She was your wife. You should have been able to trust her more than anyone. You did trust her.”

Ethan started to turn on his friend only to remember that Josh had also been betrayed by a woman. Big time. Maybe he knew what he was talking about.

“She felt threatened,” Ethan admitted, reaching for his water. “She was pregnant when we got married.”

“I figured,” Josh told him.

Ethan raised his eyebrows.

“Come on,” Josh said, spraying down the handles of the machine and wiping them off, then handing the disinfectant to Ethan. “She was never your type. I couldn’t figure out how you two got together at all.”

“I came up for air and she was there,” Ethan detailed. “I’d been working hard, learning the business, starting with the windmills. I hadn’t had much time to date. One day Rayanne walked into the office and I was interested.”

He didn’t bother saying it wouldn’t have lasted. Bad enough to admit that to Liz. For reasons he couldn’t explain, he’d wanted her to know the truth. But no one else needed the information. Despite the circumstances, Rayanne had been his wife. She deserved his loyalty.

“She was only a few months along when Liz showed up,” he recounted. “I was out of town. I’m sure the news frightened her. I’d talked about Liz some, so she had a clue about how serious things had been. Or maybe she would have imagined the worst regardless. Plus knowing I already had a son might have scared her into thinking I wouldn’t care as much about our baby.”

At least that was his assumption. He’d only been able to look at things from his perspective. Rayanne wasn’t around to ask.

He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Wanted to believe the best of her, but the bottom line was, she’d kept her secret until the very end. Even when they’d both known she was dying, she hadn’t told him about Tyler. That was a tough thing to forgive.

“You’re still pissed,” Josh pointed out.

“Sometimes.”

“Does it ever occur to you that because you can’t get things right with Rayanne that you’re taking out all of it on Liz?”

Ethan stared at his friend. “What are you talking about?”

Josh shrugged. “I’m just saying that sure, Liz has some blame in all this, but so do you and so does Rayanne. Only Rayanne’s not here. Being mad at the dead never plays well, even to ourselves. So what are you left with? Liz.”

Ethan finished his bottle of water and tossed the empty container into the recycling bin, then dropped his towel across his shoulder and headed for the locker room. Josh fell into step beside him.

They walked downstairs and pushed through the swinging door. His friend’s words made sense, which fried his ass.

“When did you get all insightful?” he asked.

“I have no idea,” Josh admitted.

“I don’t like it.”

“Me, either. Makes me feel like a girl. Don’t tell anyone.”

* * *

SATURDAY DAWNED AS HOT AS THE rest of the week had been. By ten, it was close to eighty-five degrees. The air conditioning in the old house was questionable at best, which meant it was on the repair list. But so far, the subcontractor hadn’t shown up. Something Liz would discuss with Ethan the next time she saw him. In the meantime, she had three kids to deal with.

Melissa and Abby were arguing about who got to use the phone next, with Abby pointing out Melissa could just as easily use her cell phone, while Tyler resented the limit on his computer game time.

“Dad would let me play longer,” he whined as she reached for the controller.

“You don’t know that.”

“Uh-huh. He let’s me do lots of stuff you don’t.” Tyler’s lower lip jutted out.

She didn’t doubt that Ethan wasn’t into things like limits right now. He was getting to know his son.

She told herself to be patient and understanding. That everything would even out eventually.

“I’m glad you’re getting along with your dad, but right now your computer game time is up.” She took the controller from him. “We’re heading out, so please put on your swimsuit.”

“I want to go see Dad instead.”

She ignored that and walked to the stairs. “Fifteen minutes,” she yelled over the girls’ bickering. “Be ready or be left behind.”

Abby ran to the landing. “Where are we going?”

“The pool. We’ll spend the whole day there.”

“Can we have hotdogs for lunch?” Abby asked.

“Yes.”

Melissa joined her. “I’m too old for the pool.”

Liz was less sure about leaving the teenager home alone. Not that she was afraid Melissa would get into trouble, but more because she would brood. Better for her to be out with people.

“Call one of your friends and invite her along,” Liz offered. “Be ready in fifteen minutes. I mean it.”

The two of them turned and ran down the hall. Liz went upstairs to put on her own bathing suit. She didn’t have big plans to get in the water, but the odds of being splashed were huge. Better to be prepared.

Tyler slowly climbed the stairs, muttering something about preferring his father.

It took nearly a half hour to get out the door, but it was worth it. Although there were several families at the pool already, there were still plenty of spots in the shade.

“How about over there?” Liz asked, pointing.

“I see Jason,” Tyler said, already moving away. “I’m going to see if he wants to go on the slide.”

“Brittany’s with her mom,” Abby stated. “May I sit with them?”

“Madison’s waiting for me by the snack bar.” Melissa was already inching away.

Liz gave permission for Abby to visit with her friend and found herself carrying everything over to the bit of grass she’d selected and laying out towels. She put on sunscreen, plopped a hat on her head and opened the romance novel she’d brought with her. Less than a minute later, her cell phone rang.

“Hello?”

“It’s Pia. I’m at your house. Where are you?”

“At the pool.” She hadn’t talked to Pia since Crystal’s wake. “What’s going on?”

“I have printouts of the posters,” Pia explained. “I wanted to make sure they’re okay with you. After all, you’re our star.”

Liz frowned. While she appreciated the concern, the posters weren’t her business. Pia’s job was to promote the entire signing and the town. Besides, Liz had seen the posters at the meeting.

Then she realized that maybe it wasn’t about the posters at all, but about missing Crystal.

“I’d love to see them,” Liz told her. “But I’ve got all three kids here. Why don’t you put on a sassy bikini and join us?”

Pia sighed. “No, thanks. I’ll just go home. I’m not feeling very well.”

“All the more reason to slather on sunscreen and pretend to tan. Come on. I desperately need an adult to talk to.”

Pia hesitated. “Maybe,” she said. “Okay. I’ll be there. Want me to bring anything?”

“Wine?”

Pia chuckled. “I don’t think they’ll let me open a bottle by the pool.”

“Probably not. Then just bring yourself. See you soon.”

Liz was concerned that Pia would change her mind, but in less than a half hour, the other woman had shown up with her towel and a cooler full of cold water.

As Pia peeled out of her shorts and tank top, Liz tried not to be envious of the other woman’s long, lean legs. Height was required to look that good, she decided. While she wasn’t exactly vertically challenged, Pia topped her by a good three inches.

“This is nice,” Pia said, settling on the towel next to her and looking around. “It’s been years since I’ve hung out at the pool.”

“I’ve been here on and off since school was out,” Liz told her. “The hotdogs are good.” She glanced at Pia. “How are you doing?”

“Okay. I miss Crystal a lot, but work is keeping me busy, so that’s good. I bought a collar for Jake. Sort of as a way to let him know we’re committed to each other, now that Crystal is gone.”

Liz blinked at her, not sure what to say.

“I know he’s a cat,” Pia added with a smile. “We don’t actually have those conversations.”

“Good. Because I would have worried about you.”

“I was all set to put the collar on him when Dakota scared me off.” Pia paused. “She’s one of Ethan’s sisters.”

“I’ve met her a couple of times.”

“She said a friend of hers put a collar on a cat who’d never worn one and he about ripped his head off, scratching to remove it. He nicked a vein or something and there was blood everywhere. The last thing I need is to come home from work one day to a scene in a horror movie.”

Liz winced. “Are you sure Dakota wasn’t trying to be funny?”

“I don’t think so. Anyway, Jake won’t be getting his collar anytime soon.”

“Probably a good plan.” Liz thought about Ethan’s sister. “Doesn’t Dakota work at the camp?”

“She’s the head counselor, which doesn’t sound as important as it is. She has a PhD in childhood development. Raoul Moreno owns the camp. While it’s just a summer place now, he wants to expand it into a year-round facility. Dakota is helping him with that.”

Liz frowned. “Raoul Moreno. Why is that name familiar?”

Pia grinned. “Oh, honey, you haven’t seen him? He and I haven’t actually had a conversation, but I’ve spotted him around. Talk about yummy. Tall, dark and very pretty. In a macho, Latin kind of way. He played football for the Dallas Cowboys. Quarterback. Smart and athletic. Does it get better than that?”

“Sounds like someone has a bit of a crush.”

“Only from afar. I’m not interested in having a relationship right now.”

“Why not?”

Pia hesitated. “I’m not very good at them. I want to be. I want to be nurturing and know fifteen different ways to stylishly cut a sandwich. But it’s not my thing. I like kids, in theory. I don’t know much about them. But getting serious and having one of my own? I don’t really think I’m the right person for that.”

There was something about the way she said the words. As if there was more, but she wasn’t comfortable telling the story. Liz didn’t want to press. Her friendship with Pia was still new. But she couldn’t help wondering what secrets her friend was keeping to herself.

“I don’t think skilled sandwich cutting guarantees great nurturing,” she said instead. “I only know two ways.”

“That’s one more than me. Besides, you’re a natural parent. I’ve seen you with Tyler. You two have a great relationship.”

“I’m a parent because I got pregnant,” Liz told her. “I was eighteen. Instinct or not, I was a kid and I know I made a bunch of mistakes. I spent the first year terrified I was going to drop him or something. I think loving is a whole lot more important than anything. Children need to know they’re wanted.”

“That’s true,” Pia said. “Not being wanted sucks.”

“I know.”

“It’s a nonissue,” Pia said flatly. “I’m between men and I intend to keep it that way. I have Jake the cat and that’s enough.”

“At least he won’t leave the toilet seat up.”

“Exactly. I heard from Crystal’s lawyer. She wants me to come in and talk in the next few weeks. She said there was no rush so I’m assuming there’s something in Crystal’s will about a formal transfer of ownership.”

“Be sure to tell the city,” Liz teased. “There’s paperwork with pet transfers.”

Pia lowered her sunglasses and glanced over them. “You’re not all that. You know that, right?”

Liz laughed.

Pia smiled at her. “I’m glad you came back.”

Liz groaned. “Don’t say that.”

“Still being harassed by the elderly?”

“They’re not all old.” Thinking about Fool’s Gold left her feeling confused. “There are some things about being here that I really like and some that make me insane.”

“Where does Ethan fall on the list?”

“He’s on both sides.”

“See? Men are a complication.”

“Tell me about it,” Liz grumbled. “I know he wants a relationship with Tyler and I encourage that. But then he goes and does something stupid like the injunction and I want to bitch slap him.”

“Can I watch? It would be the highlight of my week.”

Liz smiled faintly. “Probably not his.” She sighed. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“Because you don’t know how you feel about him? How could you? It’s been years, but you were in love with him once and now you have Tyler together. It’s got to be complicated. Trying to decide if you still love him.”

Liz felt the world tilt to the right. She grabbed on to her towel to keep from sliding away. Only nothing was really moving—it was all happening inside of her.

“I don’t love Ethan.”

Pia’s expression turned pitying. “Speaking as a professional, I can tell you that denial is a dangerous place to live. It really messes up any long-term planning. I’m not saying you love him, I’m saying you have to decide if you might.”

“No. I don’t accept that. He denied me in public—twice! He never tried to find me. I’m sure he hasn’t thought about me in years.”

“Interesting. So your feelings are dependent on his? I wouldn’t have thought you were that shallow.”

Liz sputtered. “Excuse me? That’s not what I’m saying.”

“It’s what you said.”

Liz sucked in a breath. “The point is I’m not interested in Ethan that way and he’s not interested in me. We have a child together. There are details that have to be worked out. Nothing more.”

Care about Ethan? Love Ethan? Not on this planet. She barely liked him. Okay, sure she wanted him, but that was different. Having a sexual connection was hardly significant.

“You’re wrong,” Liz added. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

Pia picked up a bottle of water and opened it. “Isn’t there a line in Shakespeare about protesting too much? I can’t remember, but then, I’m not the literary one here.”

“No. You’re the crazy one.”

Instead of getting upset, Pia only smiled.

Liz glared at her, then crossed her arms over her chest and stared out at the pool. Love? That was just plain stupid. She didn’t love Ethan. She refused to do more than like him and that was just for her son’s sake. Anyone who implied otherwise needed some serious mental therapy.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

TALK ABOUT A BAD IDEA, LIZ thought as she stood in front of the house where Ethan had grown up. Denise had called to invite her and the kids over for dinner. Sort of a family bonding time. Liz had wanted to say no, but hadn’t been able to think of an excuse. Ethan’s brothers were out of town, but the triplets would be there. Which meant five members of the Hendrix clan to face down.

Liz kept telling herself that Denise had been perfectly friendly the last time they’d talked. That everything would be fine. The problem was she couldn’t quite believe herself.

She clutched the flowers she held tightly, then led the way to the front door and rang the bell. The children clustered behind her, talking about the newly installed shower in the upstairs bath back home. For reasons Liz couldn’t understand, the glass blocks around the window had been a big hit.

The door opened.

“You made it,” Ethan said.

“Was there any doubt?” she asked, trying not to let her nervousness show.

“We were taking bets.”

“Great.”

“I’m kidding,” he corrected, stepping back. “Come on in.”

She walked inside. Tyler came after her and hugged his father, while Abby and Melissa huddled together. Denise appeared, looking relaxed and pretty in a matching light green crop pant and T-shirt set. There was a rhinestone pink flamingo filling the front of her shirt, and she had pink sparkles on her flip-flops.

“Come in, come in,” the older woman urged as she hugged first Tyler, then the girls. She took the flowers Liz offered. “Aren’t you sweet? They’re beautiful and I have just the right vase for them.” She frowned. “But it’s up high and I can’t reach it. Melissa, honey, can you get it for me?”

“Um, sure.” The teen followed her into the kitchen.

“I always wanted to be tall,” she could hear Denise saying. “You’re so pretty. I don’t even want to think about all the boys you have interested in you.”

“Me, either,” Liz agreed, allowing Ethan to ease her down the hallway toward the large kitchen. Abby and Tyler trailed after them.

The kitchen was light and bright, obviously the center of the home. The blue floor tiles warmed up the white cabinets and dark granite. There were stainless steel appliances and lots of storage space. It was the perfect kitchen for a large family.

Through the far door, Liz saw the table in the dining room had been set for nine and there was still plenty of room. Ethan’s family had always been large.

“We’re keeping it simple tonight,” Denise announced as she put the flowers in water. “Barbecued chicken and salads. I made a few fresh pies earlier today, so we have them for dessert. Now let’s go into the family room. It’s more comfortable there.”

She led the way into a big open space filled with comfortable-looking sofas and chairs, plenty of small tables scattered around a fireplace. A long bar stood against the far wall and a big TV was mounted on the opposite wall.

Ethan’s sisters were already in the family room. They stood as Liz and the kids entered, moving next to each other.

“Sweet,” Tyler said as he stared at them. “You’re really Dad’s sisters?”

“Uh-huh,” Montana said. “Which means we’re your aunts. Very cool. I know I’d like me for an aunt. I’m Montana. You’ve seen me at the library and I babysat once.” She pointed to her head. “Long hair. I’m the pretty one, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“You’re a lot of things,” Dakota muttered. “Hi. I’m Dakota, Tyler. This is a lot to take in, huh? Don’t worry. You’ll get used to there being three of us. This is Nevada.”

“Long hair, medium hair, short hair,” Tyler said. “That works.”

Liz put her hands on his shoulders. “Don’t get used to it too much. Women tend to change their hair.”

“We might,” Montana acknowledged. “Nevada just cut hers. She says this cut is more sensible.”

Nevada, the quietest of the triplets, only smiled. “I’m not out there looking for attention.”

“Or a man,” Montana added. “It wouldn’t kill you to date.”

“Like you go out every weekend?” Nevada quipped.

“I’m waiting for the right guy,” Montana explained.

“You mean the perfect guy,” Nevada said. “He doesn’t exist.”

“You’re all making me so proud,” Denise said with a shake of her head. She turned to Abby and Melissa. “You two are sisters. Do you fight?”

Abby grinned. “A lot. But it’s okay. We still love each other.”

“She can be a pain, but I’m used to it,” Melissa conceded.

“That’s encouraging.” Denise motioned to the sofas. “Everyone have a seat. Ethan, you’re in charge of the bar tonight. There’s lemonade for those not yet of drinking age. I made a very nice fruit sangria for the adults. Or we have the usual drink fixings.”

“Sangria sounds nice,” Liz said, taking a seat on one of the sofas. Both Melissa and Abby settled next to her. Tyler wandered over to the bar and sat on one of the stools. Everyone else found a place in the room.

The girls kept glancing at Ethan’s sisters. Finally Melissa asked, “What’s it like to be a triplet?”

“Easier now,” Dakota told her. “We have our own lives. We’re close but because we’re interested in different things, we don’t have the same friends, hang out at the same places.”

“Back in school, almost no one could tell us apart,” Montana said with a laugh. “We used that to our advantage.”

“Your names are nice.” Abby’s voice was low and shy.

Denise brought the girls each a lemonade. “And not my fault,” she stated. “Just remember that.”

“What do you mean?” Liz asked.

Denise sighed. “Giving birth to triplets isn’t easy and I had a very hard time recovering. The boys were scared and being very difficult for their grandparents. To make them feel better and give them a distraction, their father promised they could name the girls anything they wanted.”

Liz laughed. “That’s giving away a lot of power.”

“I know,” Denise agreed. “When I found out, I nearly had a fit. But by then, it was done.”

“I like their names,” Abby said.

“I like yours,” Dakota told her.

“Would you like to see their baby pictures?” Denise asked.

Melissa and Abby both nodded.

Montana groaned. “Mom, please. Not the baby pictures.”

“I was on bed rest for nearly four months with you three. I can do anything I want.”

She opened several cabinets in the storage unit below the TV and pulled out albums. Melissa and Abby joined her, as did Tyler. The triplets exchanged a glance and slowly moved over to where Denise had the albums open. Liz got up and walked to the bar.

“Does she do this a lot?” she asked.

Ethan grinned. “More than she should. It was worse when my sisters were in high school and starting to date. They had to bring the guys home to meet the folks, but ran the risk of the pictures coming out. My younger brothers made money by distracting her.”

“It’s almost enough to make me grateful for my inattentive mother.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he warned. “Any second now she’ll start lamenting her lack of grandchildren. I’ll be off the hook for a while because of Tyler, but my sisters are feeling the pressure.”

Even though she was standing in the room and seeing it all as it happened, there was a part of her that wondered if any of this was real. Were there actually families that interacted with each other? That laughed and fought and made up for years and still had that loving connection? While she and Tyler were close, it was just the two of them.

Or it had been, she thought, correcting herself. Her small family had just doubled in size with the addition of Melissa and Abby.

Liz felt her chest tighten and she had to consciously suck in air.

“You okay?” Ethan asked.

“I guess.” She looked at him. “I’m responsible for them. Melissa and Abby. They’re living with me permanently.”

He seemed confused. “That’s not news.”

“I know. Roy asked, I agreed. I never thought about saying no. It’s just…I never really put the pieces together before now. They’re my responsibility. I’m going to have to take care of them. Doctors and dentists and schoolwork and talking about boys. Until now it’s all been theoretical. I’m not prepared for teenage girls. Technically Abby’s not yet a teen, but still.”

He walked around the bar and sat next to her. “You’re doing great. Just keep with the plan.”

“I don’t have a plan. I don’t have anything. What if I mess up?”

“You’ll say you’re sorry and then you’ll start over.”

That seemed too simplistic. The responsibility was suddenly overwhelming. She’d gone from being a single mom of one child to being responsible for three. How could she have missed that?

What now? What would be best for them?

She turned toward the far wall and saw Denise bending over a coffee table, flipping pages in a photo album. Tyler, Melissa and Abby were clustered around her. The triplets hovered nearby, correcting or adding to the stories.

This was good for them, Liz thought. Seeing a big family in action. Feeling a part of something. They’d already been through so much. Not a thought designed to make her feel good about her decisions. Because in a few weeks her plan was to take her nieces from everything they’d ever known and move them to San Francisco.

She knew the argument. Her life was there. The schools were great, the house big enough. They would adjust. Kids did it all the time. But she couldn’t escape the voice whispering that staying here would make things easier for everyone. Well, everyone but her.

Tyler wouldn’t mind being uprooted. He might protest about leaving behind his friends, but the truth was he loved Fool’s Gold. And she had a feeling he would gladly trade time with his friends for time with his dad.

“Earth to Liz. You okay in there?”

“Don’t distract me with the facts,” she snapped.

He held up both his hands, as if to show he was unarmed. “I’m not the enemy here and you’re not making sense.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m confused by all of this.” And at the core of it, she was confused by him.

“Can I do anything to help?” he asked.

“Spike my drink?”

He grinned. “You got it.”

* * *

DINNER AT THE HENDRIX HOUSE was loud and fun and delicious. By the time the kitchen had been cleaned up—a job complicated by too many people trying to help—dessert eaten and more pictures viewed—this time of Ethan as a boy—it was nearly ten.

Ethan insisted on walking them all home. There were hugs for Denise and the triplets, promises to do this again soon, and then they were out in the cool, clear night.

Once they arrived, Liz herded the kids upstairs to get ready for bed, then turned to Ethan.

“We all had a great time,” she began. “Please thank your mom for the—”

Anything else she’d been planning to say was cut off when he kissed her. He cupped her face in both his hands, then pressed his mouth to hers. She reacted instinctively, moving closer, parting her lips and hanging on because kissing Ethan was always a hell of a ride.

He didn’t disappoint. After dropping his hands to her waist, he hauled her against him. His tongue invaded, taking and teasing, exploring and exciting. She felt the heat pouring through her body, the wanting. Just being near him was tempting enough, but actually touching him made her knees weak. She was hungry, but not just for sex. What burned inside her was need for this specific man.

She leaned into him and deepened the kiss. He responded in kind, their tongues stroking frantically. He moved his hands to her breasts and cupped the curves. His thumbs brushed against her tight, sensitive nipples, making her groan.

There was a noise from upstairs. As if something had fallen. They weren’t alone.

Reluctantly, she pulled back and he let her go. They stared into each other’s eyes, their breathing hard.

“Damn,” he murmured.

“Double damn.”

She thought he might ask to come back later, but he didn’t, which relieved her. Given the fact that she was still sleeping on the sofa, that there wasn’t any privacy in the house and that things were still unresolved, she knew making love would be a mistake.

“I should go,” he said.

She nodded.

“I had a good time tonight,” he told her.

“Me, too. And I didn’t expect to.”

He grinned. “I won’t tell my mother.”

“Thanks.” She raised herself up on tiptoes and brushed her mouth against his. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I look forward to it.”

He released her and left. She waited until she was sure he was gone, then stepped out on the porch into the darkness.

The night air cooled her heated skin. She brushed her fingers against her lips, as if she could recreate the feelings. But nothing would be the same as kissing Ethan. Reluctantly, she went back inside and started up the stairs to say good-night to her family.

* * *

SUNDAY MORNING LIZ DUG OUT AN old waffle maker and mixed batter. Tyler rose early, as he always did, while the girls slept in.

“Last night was fun,” he commented as he set the table, then carefully poured juice. “Did you see those old pictures of Dad? I really look like him.”

“I know. That’s what I thought when you were a baby—that you looked just like your dad.”

“We’re going riding later,” her son continued with a grin. “He’s showing me some really sweet tricks and stuff. He says I’ve got talent. I don’t know if I want to get serious and race professionally, but it’s so much fun.”

Tyler glanced down, then back at her. “In a couple of years, I’ll be old enough to go to racing school. Dad knows Josh Golden. He’s this really famous racer and he runs the school and everything.”

Hero-worship, she thought wryly. That was new. “I know Josh. I went to high school with him.”

Tyler’s mouth drooped. “So he’s like really old, huh?”

Liz winced. “Hey, not so old. Although he’s a couple years older than me.”

“But he could still teach me stuff. Only if we don’t live here, I guess I couldn’t go.”

Great. So now it wasn’t just Melissa and Abby who didn’t want to move. “You can’t go to the school for a few years, so let’s not worry about that now.”

Tyler hesitated. “But if we moved here, I could.”

“Yes. I get it. Let’s move on.”

Her son sighed, then nodded. “Dad says because I’m so good in math and science, that I could study a lot of different things in college. Like engineering or maybe do research.”

They were discussing his college plans?

“Maybe you should think about finishing high school first.”

“Oh, Mom. Plans are important. And goals. It’s a guy thing.”

“Girls don’t have goals?” she asked as she poured the batter into the heated grid.

“I guess some do, but some just want to be pretty.”

“And some guys are only into playing video games and partying.”

“Sure, but that’s different.”

Her son, the sexist, she thought, faintly annoyed. Apparently there needed to be more conversations about equality and tolerance. Perhaps Ethan should be the one doing the explaining. Then he could be more than the fun parent.

While she appreciated that Ethan and Tyler got along so well, she knew they were a long way from being father and son. Right now Ethan was entertaining and new. He’d yet to have to make any hard decisions, to stand up to Tyler or punish him.

“How is it different?” she asked.

“Guys don’t care about how they look and girls don’t care about computer games. Melissa takes forever in the bathroom.”

“Abby plays with you.”

“But there are more girls like Melissa than there are like Abby.”

“You know this how? Did you take a survey?”

He frowned. “You’re mad. Why?”

She checked on the cooking waffles. “Because you’re making statements about people that may or may not be true. You’re assuming a lot. It’s easy to say a group of people always acts a certain way, but it’s not accurate.”

“But why does it matter?”

“Because people are a lot more alike than they are different. The biggest problems we have in this world are because of what we assume about each other. People make decisions based on appearance or gender or race, without getting to know anyone in that group. Or they have a very limited sample. Then they say things and other people hear them and start to believe them. Pretty soon we have a cultural bias that affects all kinds of decisions.”

Tyler stared at her blankly.

Liz shook her head. “Let me try it another way. When Melissa and Abby move to San Francisco with us, Abby will be in your school, right?”

He nodded.

“She’s from a small town. Let’s say a few students and teachers think that people from small towns are stupid. So they find out about Abby transferring and they tell everyone at the school that Abby is stupid. Is that right or fair?”

Tyler’s eyes widened. “Abby’s not stupid. She’s really smart and nice and fun. She’s my friend.”

“I understand that, but so what? You said it didn’t matter if you said something about someone that wasn’t true.”

He was quiet for a few seconds. “They’ll hurt Abby’s feelings and I’ll get mad. And if I act out because I’m mad, I could get into trouble. And all my friends will help me and they’ll get in trouble.”

“That’s a big mess,” Liz said as she used a fork to pop the waffle onto a plate. “All because someone believed something that wasn’t true.”

“I guess it does matter what we say, huh?”

“Yeah. And a little word can have a big impact. The difference between all and some. ‘All girls don’t care about computer games’ is really different than ‘Some girls don’t care about computer games.’”

“Okay. So when I said girls don’t have goals, I was wrong. Some boys don’t have goals.”

“Exactly.” She passed him the waffle.

He grinned at her. “You’re really smart.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re probably the smartest mom in the whole world.”

She laughed. “That’s very possibly true.”

* * *

LIZ HAD LIVED THROUGH CABINETS being torn out, carpet being ripped up, drywall installation and insistent banging of hardwood floors being laid. But the noise that finally drove her out of the house was the high-pitched scream of a tile saw.

She took her laptop and a blanket to the far end of the yard and stretched out in the shade of a tree. The sound was still intense, but not so distracting.

She glanced up at the house. Even from here, she could see the changes. What had once been poured foundation and a few attempts at framing had become a real room attached to the house. The master suite was nearly complete. When it was, she might think about moving off the sofa.

Inside, the kitchen gleamed, the fresh paint added a brightness and the carpet was plush. The house had come a long way since she’d first arrived in town. It was practically new.

But no matter how many changes occurred, she couldn’t seem to shake the sense of doom and defeat when she walked inside. Maybe the memories were just too strong. Whatever the cause, this house would never be her home. Staying or leaving, she would move out as soon as possible.

She returned her attention to her computer. After loading her word processing program, she started to read the pages she’d finished the previous day.

It only took a few minutes to get back into the story. She glanced at her plotting notes, then began to type. The serial killer in this book targeted teenaged boys. The scene took place at a high school basketball game and she closed her eyes to imagine what it would sound like and feel like to be in that gym during an important game.

Two hours later, she leaned against the tree. The scene was nearly finished, her back ached from the uncomfortable position and the tile saw had grown mercifully silent. All in all, a pretty decent morning’s work.

The back door of her house opened and Ethan stepped onto the patio. He had a bottle of water in each hand.

God, he looked good, she thought as she took in the faded jeans, the long legs and narrow hips. He moved with an easy masculine grace—a man comfortable in his own skin.

“Couldn’t stand the noise?” he guessed.

“They defeated me with the tile saw.”

“And here I thought you were indestructible.” He offered her a bottle, then settled across from her on the blanket.

“Not all the time.” She glanced at the house. “They’re doing great work. Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome. I have a good team.” He pointed at her computer. “How’s the book going?”

“Good. I’m finally into it enough to make the writing easier. The beginning is always a nightmare. Figuring out who everyone is, why they’re doing what they do. That sort of thing.”

“You make it sound like work,” he teased.

She mock glared at him. “Don’t make me hurt you. We both know I could.”

“I’m trembling in fear.”

They smiled at each other and she felt a quiver low in her belly.

“Are you going to keep killing me?” he asked.

“I wasn’t, but I’ve changed my mind.”

“What did I do?” he inquired, looking all innocent.

“What didn’t you do? You’re raising my son to be sexist and judgmental when it comes to women.”

Ethan stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Girls don’t have goals? Since when? I know he got that from you.”

Ethan groaned. “I didn’t mean it like that. We were talking about how important it is to set goals. To figure out what you want and just go for it.”

“And?”

He shrugged. “I might have said something about girls not being interested in anything but fashion and talking on the phone.”

“If I didn’t need my laptop, I’d throw it at you.”

“I’m sorry. It was just one of those things guys say to each other.”

“Tyler isn’t a guy. He’s a kid and he adores you. As far as he’s concerned, everything you said to him is ultimate truth.”

Ethan looked both pleased and chagrined. “Okay. You’re right. I need to think before I speak.”

She opened her mouth to say more, then closed it. “Excuse me?”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that. In fact there’s a lot of things I regret. Like the injunction. I should have talked to you first. I was upset. That’s not the best time to make an important decision.”

“Well, damn. If you’re going to take responsibility and express regret, how can I keep yelling at you?”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “You’ll find a reason. Then you can kill me off in your book again.”

She smirked, raising her eyebrows. “Maybe I already did.”

He laughed, then took a drink of water. “You’re good, you know. Those books. They’re extraordinary.”

His compliment warmed her. “Thank you.”

“You have a detective you talk to?”

She nodded. “I met her at Tyler’s preschool. She was picking up her daughter and we started talking. She reads my manuscripts and tells me where I get it wrong.”

“She’s a mother?”

Liz put aside her laptop, stretched out her arm and slapped him on the shoulder. “What is it with you? Nevada is female and she’s an engineer. Why is that okay but you’re a pig about other women?”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the blanket next to him, then rolled her onto her back.

“I don’t have a problem with women,” he said leaning over her. “I said mother not woman. I never thought of a detective as having a family.”

“You wouldn’t. They usually don’t show the home life on TV.”

“Are you saying I’m shallow?” he asked with a grin. “You’re awfully arrogant for someone completely in my power.”

“You only think I’m in your power.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

They stared at each other. His mouth hovered inches from hers. She did her best not to react to the feel of his body against hers.

“What are the odds of one of my crew watching out the window?” he theorized.

“Better than fifty percent.”

“That’s what I thought, too. Damn.” He rolled off her. “Change of subject. Has being here made you late with your book?”

“I’m not too behind.”

“This summer can’t have helped with your deadline.”

“That’s true, but I tend to plan ahead. Usually I have less time to write in the summer because Tyler’s home, so I’m still okay.”

He shifted so he faced her and brushed the hair from her face. “What were you doing before you were a writer?” he asked.

“I waited on tables. Same as here. That’s what I did when I first moved to San Francisco. When I got big enough that I walked slow, I was a cashier, where I could sit during my shift. After Tyler was born, I got work at a nicer restaurant where the tips were better.”

“Don’t take this wrong,” he suggested slowly, “but I would have helped.”

“If you’d known.”

He nodded.

She considered the words. He was right—he would have helped.

She thought about the long, lonely evenings after she’d brought Tyler home from the hospital. Her terror at being alone with a newborn. She had checked out a few books from the library, but had no real working knowledge of what to do. She’d never really been around babies and there was no one to ask. Help would have been nice.

Loss made her throat tighten. Everything could have been different, she thought. Looking back, she wasn’t sure if it would have been better, if they would have lasted as a couple. She wasn’t sure she would have ever started writing. After all, her first short stories had all been about killing Ethan in an assortment of creative ways.

Regardless, she was sure, given the choice, he would want the chance to know his son from birth.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Me, too.”

She rolled toward him. He leaned in and lightly kissed her mouth, then they stared at each other for a long time.

She read a world of ache in his eyes. Saw the place where the past should have been. In that moment, she knew she had never stopped loving Ethan, never stopped missing him, had never moved on. And if she stayed here too long, she was in danger of him discovering that particular truth.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE BANQUET ROOM AT THE HOTEL had a view of the mountain that filled the window. Concentrating on the lush colors of the plant-life seemed much easier than making small-talk with people she didn’t know at a luncheon she didn’t want to attend. But here she was.

The purpose—to award scholarship recipients—made perfect sense. But knowing these women were getting scholarships in her name made her feel as if she was having an out-of-body experience.

Betty Higgins, the clerk from the community college, waved from another table. Liz waved back. There were about fifteen tables in all—and nearly one hundred people at the event. Lunch had been pleasant—a delicious salad and warm sourdough bread. But after the hot fudge brownie had been delivered, Dana Marton, the president of the college, stood to address everyone.

“Thank you so much for coming,” Dana, an attractive, slender woman said with a smile. She’d introduced several members of the faculty, a few significant donors, then had shifted to Liz.

“Everyone here has been brought together by a single person of extraordinary talent. Liz Sutton left Fool’s Gold only a few months after graduating high school. She went away, had a baby, supported herself and her child, then started writing a detective novel. That first book, published nearly six years ago, made it to the top of the bestseller lists. Not only are her characters real and smart and sympathetic, they remind us of people we know. And for me, that’s writing at its best.”

Dana glanced down at her notes, then back at the people listening. “But the significance of Liz’s story lies elsewhere. Yes, she managed to overcome tremendous odds and adversity. But the most amazing part of her journey is that it had to happen somewhere else. Not here, in the town we love so much.”

Dana drew in a breath. “In a town that prides itself on caring, Liz slipped through the cracks. While we all noticed she was neglected at home, no one acted. Maybe it’s because she was so mature for her age. Her grades never suffered, she was always on time to school. Maybe it was because we weren’t as sensitized to disenfranchised children years ago. But when we, as a community, could have helped, there was silence.”

Liz felt the heat on her cheeks and did her best not to give in to the need to bolt for the closest door. They were talking about her life as if everyone knew. She’d become a sad and tragic legend.

“While the outcome of Liz’s story is a happy one, not every ignored child is so successful,” Dana continued. “Not every child has the skills and determination and character to survive. While we are proud of Liz and her life, we must not lose sight of this opportunity to learn from our mistakes. To do better next time so no child ever slips through the cracks again.”

There was a round of applause. Liz felt everyone glancing in her direction and did her best to appear calm and engaged. Because panic was just so unattractive.

“When Liz disappeared, we were left with a small scholarship,” Dana went on. “It should have been hers. The first suggestion was to simply fold the money back into the scholarship fund. But before we could do that, someone sent in a few dollars in Liz’s name. More checks arrived. As someone once told me, fifty dollars can’t change a life, but when everyone gives a little, we can change the world.”

Dana smiled at Liz. “That is how the Elizabeth Marie Sutton Scholarship was born. To date there have been nearly thirty recipients and most of them are here today.”

To Liz’s astonishment, several people stood. Then more joined them. There were exactly twenty-eight woman clapping and smiling at her. Beaming as if she’d actually done something for them.

When the women were seated, Dana invited the four women who would be receiving the money this year to speak. Each of them talked about how she wanted to go to college and how this money made it possible. They thanked Liz, which made her want to point out her big act had been to run away. But maybe this wasn’t the time.

There were a few more speeches, then the luncheon ended. Liz found herself shaking hands with people and accepting their thanks. As much as she wanted to say she didn’t deserve their praise, she was glad that her story had become symbolic of something bigger.

Only in Fool’s Gold, she thought as a teenager was explaining how her mother was sick and the girl had to take care of her younger three brothers. That meant paying for college wasn’t possible. But at Fool’s Gold Community College, she could get a start on her education. All thanks to Liz.

It took a while to work through the crowd. Liz finally made her way to the college president.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Dana said warmly. “I only moved here a few years ago, so I missed the formative years of the scholarship. However, I’m happy to tell you more women apply for this money than any other scholarship we have.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” Liz stated, pulling a business size envelope out of her purse and handing it over. “I want to make a donation, but please don’t say anything.”

“I won’t,” Dana promised, then opened the envelope and glanced at the ten thousand dollar check. “Oh, my.”

Liz glanced around warily. “Not a word.”

“But you’re being so generous.”

“I want to give back.”

A few weeks ago, Liz would have laughed at the idea of giving back. To a town that had ignored her? But things had changed. Sure, Fool’s Gold wasn’t perfect. No place was. There were good things and bad things, the same with the people. She might have slipped through the cracks, as Dana had described it, but that was as much a symptom of the time. Back then, how you raised your children was a more private matter. People looked away, rather than get involved. She realized it was more important to see that the people in town had tried to change. And in doing so, they’d helped others.

“Maybe you’d like to come speak to our students in the fall,” Dana suggested. “We have a lecture series that’s very popular. I know you’d draw a crowd.”

Liz hesitated. “I’m not sure of my travel plans this fall,” she explained, which was mostly true. “I usually go on a book tour.”

“We could work around that.”

“Maybe,” Liz said, doing her best to sound doubtful. “I’ll think about it.”

Come back here and lecture? She didn’t want to have to make a special trip. Although if she was still living here…

No, she told herself. Not here. She couldn’t let herself be lulled by a few good days. Did she really want to spend the rest of her life in a place where people felt free to judge her when they didn’t know what they were talking about?

Never, she thought with a firm nod.

* * *

“I CAN GET YOU A DISCOUNT,” Ethan murmured.

Liz stared at the dresser made entirely of twigs. Not logs, not sticks, but twigs. Lots of twigs.

“How does he do that?” she reflected in a low voice. “How is it staying together?”

“You don’t want to know.”

The book festival took place in the main park in town, but as Liz and Ethan walked with Abby and Tyler, she saw there was a lot more than books for sale.

The booths were clustered by subject. All the crafts together, the cooking across from the travel section. Novels were at the far end, but Liz wasn’t due there for half an hour.

“She has a great crowd,” Liz noted, pointing to a large group of people surging toward a booth.

“Cookies,” he told her, grabbing her hand and keeping her close. “She writes a cookbook and offers samples.”

“Great idea. I should do that.” She frowned. “Although I’m not sure what sample I would offer.”

“Blood,” Tyler teased cheerfully from Ethan’s other side.

“Or dead bodies,” Abby said with a giggle. The preteen walked next to her. Melissa had gone off with a couple of girlfriends.

“Very nice,” Liz said. “Where do you two get your ideas?”

They both laughed.

This was fun, she thought as they stopped for lemonade at a stand, then strolled by the quilting demonstration. Part party, part county fair. So far everyone had been friendly enough, calling out to her. No one had said anything bad about her or Tyler.

“Is that a llama?” Ethan asked, pointing.

Liz squinted, then stopped when she saw a small llama in the shade. “Don’t they spit?”

“That’s what I heard.”

“It’s not a llama,” Tyler stated importantly. “It’s an alpaca.”

“They’re like sheep,” Abby added. “Their fibers are like wool and can be made into a lot of different things. Some of the fibers are really soft.”

“Llamas have ears shaped like bananas,” Tyler informed. “Alpaca ears are straight.”

Liz glanced at both of them. “Excuse me?”

The kids grinned. “A lady brought alpacas to camp last week,” Abby told her. “We spent a morning learning about them.”

“Impressive,” Liz said.

Ethan ruffled Tyler’s hair. “Nicely done.”

The boy shrugged, but looked proud.

They continued toward the far end of the park. The crowd got thicker and Liz noticed big posters featuring her books. It was strange to see huge publicity photos hanging from trees.

“Is that you?” an older woman asked, stopping her. “You’re Liz Sutton?”

Liz smiled. “Yes.”

“Oh, I’m such a fan. I can’t wait to have you sign my books. I drove in from Tahoe this morning. I told my Edgar that we were spending the day in Fool’s Gold and that I was going to meet you.”

The woman smiled at Ethan. “Hello.”

“Hi.”

Liz separated herself from Ethan and the kids and moved toward the woman. “I’m signing from one to three, then from four to six,” she said. An impossibly long time, but Montana had insisted. Now that Liz saw the crowd, she had an idea that maybe she would be selling books for that long.

“I think the lines are going to be long,” Liz continued. “Did you bring a book with you? If so, I can sign it now.”

The woman beamed. “Would you? That would be so nice. Edgar wants to get home before dark.” She sighed. “You know how men are.”

Liz nodded and got a pen out of her purse. She took the offered book. “What’s your name?”

“Patricia.”

Liz wrote a note, then signed the book and handed it back. Patricia patted her arm.

“You’re lovely. I knew you would be.” She winked at Ethan. “And your husband is very handsome. No wonder you have such nice-looking children.”

“Thank you,” Liz said.

Patricia excused herself and left.

“Why did she say that?” Tyler asked. “Dad isn’t your husband. You should have told her.”

Liz crouched in front of him. “She was trying to be nice. Sometimes it’s easier to accept the compliment than explain. Besides, both you and Abby are nice looking.”

“Jason’s parents are married,” Tyler declared.

She stayed where she was, eye level with her son. “Yes, they are.”

“You and Dad aren’t married.”

“No, we’re not.”

“You didn’t get a divorce.”

“That’s right.”

She could feel Ethan hovering, sensed that he wanted to help. But what was there to say? Eventually Tyler was going to figure out that she and his dad hadn’t followed a traditional path.

“You didn’t get married at all.” The words sounded like an accusation.

“It’s complicated,” Ethan described, drawing Liz to her feet and putting his hand on Tyler’s shoulders. “There were extenuating circumstances.”

“I don’t care about that,” Tyler argued stubbornly.

Abby looked uncomfortable. Liz took her hand and smiled reassuringly.

“You should be married,” their son announced.

Liz held in a groan. “An interesting idea,” she said lightly. “But not one we’re going to discuss right now and certainly not here.”

“But I—”

“You heard your mother,” Ethan reiterated firmly. “She has a signing. This isn’t the time to deal with the subject. We’ll talk later.”

“I want to talk now!”

“Come on, Tyler,” Ethan said firmly. He glanced at her. “All right with you?”

She nodded and Ethan led Tyler away.

Abby hovered close by. “Should I go?”

“I thought you wanted to be with me for the first part of the signing. It’s okay. Really. Why don’t you come with me until you meet with your friends at one-thirty?”

“Okay.”

They walked toward the booths at the far end of the park.

“Tyler’s mad,” Abby observed.

“I know.”

“He said he always wanted a dad, but you wouldn’t talk about his. He didn’t know how to make you. Sometimes he got really sad and stuff.”

Liz didn’t know if she wanted to hear more or not. “I remember he would ask a lot. It’s complicated.”

“Grown-ups always say that, but if you don’t tell us stuff, how can we learn?”

Liz smiled. “You’re pretty smart.”

“I know.” Abby grinned.

The preteen’s point was a good one. Maybe it was time to explain the truth to Tyler. That Liz hadn’t exactly pressed for Ethan to know about his son, and later fate, in the form of Rayanne, had intervened. She would discuss the idea with Ethan later.

Liz saw the signs pointing toward the signing area and was surprised at how many people had already lined up. Rather than go through the crowd, she and Abby went around, down by the lake, then back up through the trees.

“Do I have leaves in my hair?” Liz asked as they broke through several bushes and came out behind the booth where she would be signing. “I don’t want to look—”

She came to a stop and stared at the stacks of boxes from her publisher. There were at least a dozen. Maybe more. Both hardcovers and paperbacks.

Liz held in a groan. Montana seemed to have gotten ahead of herself. Enthusiasm was great, but if a significant percentage of the books didn’t sell, Liz’s publisher wasn’t going to be happy.

She saw her assistant Peggy waiting by the table and hugged her. “You came.”

“How could I miss this?” Peggy asked. “The great book signing caper. This is a lot of inventory.”

“Tell me about it.”

Liz introduced Peggy and Abby.

“I was feeling guilty about wanting to look at the quilts,” Peggy conceded with a laugh, “but you’re going to be busy for a while.”

“Yes, there’s plenty of time to come back later.”

“You’re here,” Montana said, rushing up to greet her. “I think we should start a little early. The lines are so long. Hey, Abby.” She hugged Liz, then the girl and introduced herself to Peggy. “I have water and pens. We’re going to take turns holding the books open for you to speed things along.”

Liz couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from the book boxes. “Don’t you think you got a little ambitious with the ordering?”

Montana laughed. “Trust me, Liz. I know what I’m doing.”

“I’ve never sold that many copies in a single signing before. Not even close.”

“Then we’re going to break a record, aren’t we?” She patted Liz’s arm, then turned to Abby. “Want to take the first shift with holding open the books? I’ll show you how.”

“Okay,” Abby agreed cheerfully.

They walked toward the booth. The people in line began to clap and call out to her. Liz eyed the crowd and felt a little better. There had to be at least sixty people waiting. If they each bought a book, maybe she wouldn’t embarrass herself with poor sales. But someone had to have a serious talk with Montana. Optimism was great, but one had to be practical, too.

* * *

“I OWE YOU AN APOLOGY,” LIZ said, nearly five hours later as she approached the end of the signing. Her right arm ached, her fingers had cramped two hundred books ago and she was exhausted.

Montana laughed. “Never doubt the power of positive thinking.”

“Or great advertising.”

They’d gone through box after box of books and the crowd had never seemed to get smaller. Liz hadn’t had the hour break in the schedule, instead she’d signed straight through, talking to fans, posing for pictures and answering questions about various story lines.

“Has it occurred to you that people love your books?” Montana asked.

“Not this much. I need to ask for more money.”

Montana laughed, then turned to the next person in line.

Liz sipped water, then threw herself into author mode, focusing on the reader. Each one mattered. She wanted to know what they thought of her stories, what moved them the most. They were the reason she wrote.

A half hour later, the line had dwindled. She could actually see the end of it, which was great because she was close to running out of books. She’d half expected Ethan to bring Tyler by but she hadn’t seen either of them. As she glanced up to scan the crowd, she noticed a tall, thin man waiting at the end of the line.

What caught her attention was his intense gaze. He stared at her with a focused expression that made her uncomfortable. After a few seconds, she looked away.

She shook off her uneasiness and smiled at the woman next in line. The signing continued. It was well after six when Montana murmured, “Here’s the last one.”

“Hello, Liz.”

She looked up and saw the thin man who had creeped her out earlier. He had medium brown hair and watery blue eyes. His skin was pale and there was something about his expression that made her uncomfortable.

“Hi,” she greeted, forcing herself to sound cheerful. “I hope you weren’t standing in line too long.”

“Not at all. I wanted to see you. To talk to you. I would have waited forever.”

Talk about icky, she thought, grateful she wasn’t alone with the guy.

“Thank you,” she said. “So, can I sign a book for you?”

“I already have all your books.” He eased closer. “I thought we could end the day together.” His voice lingered on the last word, as if making a point. “Would you like that?”

Liz glanced around for Montana but her friend had been pulled aside by one of the volunteers. No one else seemed to be paying attention to what was happening.

Which was fine, she told herself. Every writer had a few crazy fans. The important thing was not to overreact to the situation.

“I appreciate the offer, but I have plans,” she answered smoothly. “Are you sure you don’t want me to sign a book?”

Something flashed in his eyes. Anger. No, that wasn’t right. It went beyond anger.

“How about a picture?” he asked.

“Sure.”

She rose, then hesitated. Normally she walked around the booth to stand next to the fan, but this time that didn’t feel right.

“You’re going to take one of me by myself,” she said, more command than question.

“Sure.”

But instead of pulling out a camera, he grabbed her arm. The action was so unexpected, she didn’t even react. She simply stared at his hand closing over her skin.

“We’re going to be together,” he told her. “Forever.”

In the nanosecond it took the words to sink in, her brain finally reacted.

“Get the hell away from me,” she screamed as loud as she could and wrenched free of his grip.

He grabbed for her again, lunging toward her. She picked up one of her last hardcovers and struck him.

“Get away!” she yelled again, hitting his shoulder, his hands, his head. “Stop it.”

He plowed into her and knocked her down. “Shut up,” he hissed, slamming her head onto the grass. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”

Suddenly there were people everywhere. Dark shapes flew at her, then the air was thick and she couldn’t breathe. The man let go of her. Coughing and gagging, she sat up, shifting so she was on her hands and knees, desperately trying to suck in air. Her throat burned, as did her eyes.

A familiar voice told her to try to relax. Ethan.

She turned to him, his outline blurry through her tears. “W-what?” she asked in a croak.

“Pepper spray,” he said, lightly touching her back. “Give it a second.”

“Pepper spray?”

“You were a casualty of your own rescue.”

He pointed and she turned to look at the scene behind her. Over a dozen old ladies were beating the man with their purses and dousing him with pepper spray. Several police officers hovered nearby, as if they couldn’t get close enough to help the guy. They didn’t look like they were trying very hard.

“What kind of sicko pervert are you?” one woman demanded. “Liz Sutton is one of us. You try to hurt her, you answer to all of us. You got that?”

“Seniors to the rescue,” Ethan told her.

Liz straightened and started to laugh. Laughing made her cough, then she couldn’t stop either. Not until Ethan pulled her close and held her.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I will be.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

IT WAS CLOSE TO TEN BEFORE life calmed down. Liz had been taken to the hospital to be checked out. Less for the pepper spray than for the swelling around her jaw and the bump on her head. When she’d been pronounced healthy and ready to go home, Ethan had brought her to his place rather than hers.

“My mom is with the kids,” he explained. “They’re worried but fine. Why don’t you call home and talk to them?”

She’d done as he’d suggested, reassuring all three of them that she was fine. Then Ethan had sent her to shower followed by a long bath. The former to wash away any residual spray, the latter to help her relax.

As she stretched out in the tub, bubbles to her chin, she found herself unable to shake off the feeling of being watched. A sensation that would take time to erase, she told herself. A few minutes later, Ethan knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

He opened the door a few inches. “If I bring wine and promise to behave like a perfect gentleman, may I come in?”

Even if he didn’t promise, she thought but didn’t say. “Sure.”

He stepped into the steamy room, an open bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands. He poured one for each of them, then settled on the tile surround by the tub.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, looking just above her head, as if not wanting to look directly at her.

“Okay. A little weird.”

“Your eyes still burning?”

“No. They’re fine. The toxin wears off in about an hour.” She managed a smile. “That was the damnedest rescue I’ve ever seen.”

“Don’t mess with our seniors.”

“Apparently not.” She glanced at him. “Did you hear from the sheriff?”

He nodded. “The guy is Bradley Flowers, age thirty-six. He has an assortment of arrest warrants, three convictions for some fairly nasty crimes. Just his being here is a violation of his parole. The attempted kidnapping won’t help his case, either. He’s in jail, waiting extradition back to Colorado. The D.A. is still figuring out the best way to charge him. He’ll probably be tried here, serve out his sentence there, then come back to finish up with prison time for kidnapping.”

“How much time does he have left in Colorado?”

“Fifty years.”

“Oh.”

The thought of an eighty-six-year-old stalker was a little less frightening.

He stroked her cheek, finally staring into her eyes. “Try not to think about it. You’ll have plenty of time to deal with it later.”

She nodded. “I’ve never had anyone come after me like that. Some of my fans are intense, but they’re not scary. A lot of them are cops.”

“So I should make sure I stay in line.”

She smiled. “Probably.” She held up her free hand. “At least I’m not shaking anymore.”

“It’s okay if you are. You’ve been through a lot.”

She sipped her wine. If she wasn’t careful, she could find herself reliving the moment. Not exactly the best way to spend an evening. The doctor at the hospital had given her a short-term prescription to help her sleep. Normally she wasn’t big on prescription drugs, but this time she might make an exception.

“Everything happened so fast,” she murmured. “I wasn’t prepared for him to attack me.”

“Why would you be?”

“I guess I wouldn’t be, but it was weird and so quick. He creeped me out. I guess it’s good I paid attention to that.” She thought about the flying handbags and zealous hits of pepper spray. “It must have been surreal to see the old ladies go on the attack.”

“Not something I’m going to forget.” He shrugged.

She noticed something intense in his expression. “What?”

“I wanted to kill him.”

The words were spoken evenly, calmly, but with a certainty that told her Ethan wasn’t kidding.

Before she could react, he continued.

“Tyler nearly went crazy trying to get to you.” There was pride in his voice now. “He wanted to take the guy down.”

She felt a little warmer on the inside, knowing the men in her life wanted to protect her. That there were…

Wait a minute. Men in her life?

“Maybe it’s not so bad here,” Ethan said.

“Maybe not,” she admitted, turning her attention back to the stalker and away from Ethan.

She wasn’t sure what would have happened if her crazed stalker had struck in a big town. While the police would have still dragged him away, she wasn’t sure she would have been so well protected by other people who just happened to be there.

“We should stop talking about this,” he suggested. “You need to relax, not relive the event.” He rose. “I’ll leave you to your bath.”

Not sure if she wanted him to stay or not, she watched him leave. After placing her glass of wine on the tile surround, she settled back in the water and closed her eyes.

As she did, she remembered the feel of the man’s hand on her arm, the rush of air as he barreled into her, pushing her to the ground. She reached up and lightly touched the left side of her face. It was painful and swollen but not too bad. It could have been a lot worse.

She drew in a deep breath and tried to relax. This time when she closed her eyes, she saw Ethan, which was a much better picture. She smiled, thinking about him smiling. She thought about how he was with both Tyler and her nieces. How he looked after his mom and sisters. He had a strong sense of family. A need to belong to a community. He was his father’s son.

He’d gotten Rayanne pregnant and had done the right thing. That’s who he was. He would do the right thing now. She knew the character of the man and was willing to admit that twelve years ago, he’d still been a kid. Not mature enough to stand up for the woman he claimed to love. Or maybe he hadn’t loved her enough. But that was the past and if they were to work anything out, she had to be willing to let it go. The fact that he might not have cared about her as much as she’d cared about him didn’t change the fact that they had a son together and decisions had to be made.

It also didn’t change the fact that she loved him more now than ever. Time had allowed her to pretend it was over, but she’d been fooling herself. So what was it to be? A second chance with the only man she’d ever loved? Did she allow pride and mistakes to keep them apart forever? There was no guarantee that Ethan felt the same way, but maybe it was time to find out.

She pulled the plug on the tub and stood. After drying off, she wrapped herself in the bathrobe he’d left for her and walked out into the master bedroom.

Ethan stood by the fireplace, staring at the flames. He didn’t hear her, didn’t turn. She was able to study the handsome lines of his face, the stiffness in his body, as if he were forcing himself to do something he didn’t want to do.

Or preventing himself from doing something he did.

“Ethan?”

He visibly shuddered, but didn’t turn to look at her. “I’ll drive you home.”

“Isn’t your mom expecting me to stay here tonight?”

“It’s not a good idea.” He swore under his breath. “You were attacked today. Attacked. He hit you. All I can think about is how I want to beat the shit out of him. And when I’m not thinking about that, I keep seeing you in the tub. I keep wanting…”

He swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? For wanting me?”

He looked at her, then. “Doesn’t that make me the biggest jerk ever? A totally insensitive guy only interested in taking?”

“Would you only be taking?”

“You know what I mean.”

His guilt was charming, she thought. His feeling bad only made her want to be with him more.

She whispered his name. When he turned to face her, she slowly, deliberately, shrugged out of her bathrobe, letting it fall to the floor. She stood naked in front of him.

His intake of air was audible in the quiet room, then he moved toward her. Lunged was more like it. When he reached her, he touched the uninjured side of her face with one hand and placed his other hand on her waist. He didn’t have to draw her to him. She went willingly, surrendering with the first kiss.

His mouth was hot and hungry, his lips pressing against hers. Her mouth parted for him immediately. He swept into her mouth, their kisses both arousing and achingly familiar.

She felt the soft brush of his well-washed jeans against her thighs. Her breasts flattened against his shirt. Wanting heated her blood and made her long for him to touch her everywhere. She tilted her head and wrapped her arms around his neck.

His tongue stroked against hers. She closed her lips around him and sucked gently, causing him to groan. When he did the same to her, she felt the tug clear down to her belly. Her breasts swelled, as did that place between her legs.

He dropped both hands to her waist, then moved them lower, gliding over bare skin. He explored the curve of her hips before slipping around to graze his fingertips along the curve of her butt. The sensation was as ticklish as it was exciting and she shivered.

He kissed his way down the side of her neck. Warm, damp lips teased her skin. He licked the skin just below her earlobe, then nipped and made her gasp. Then he bent lower and took her left nipple in his mouth. He licked the tight tip, before sucking deeply, pulling her into his mouth.

The tugging sensation wove its way through her whole body. She had to hold on to Ethan to stay standing. Over and over he sucked and licked and then blew on her damp skin. She shuddered in response. As he moved to the other breast, he slipped his hand between her legs and found her damp, waiting center.

She immediately parted her legs. He moved his fingers against her, circling that one swollen spot over and over. Then he dropped to his knees, parted her with his fingers and kissed her intimately.

His tongue brushed against her with just the right amount of pressure. The steady rhythm made it impossible to breathe. Her legs shook and she could barely stand. When he thrust a finger inside her, she had to bend over and put her hand on his shoulders to stay upright.

Stop. He had to stop. They could go to the bed and lie down and then she would…

Only she didn’t want him to stop. Not when everything about the moment was so perfect. Not when her muscles tensed and the wanting grew and she knew she was closer and closer. There was only the man and how he made her feel. There was only the sensation and pressure and tension and need. He closed his mouth over her clit and sucked. At the same time he pushed deep inside of her, curving his finger slightly and stroking the very center of her body.

She came with an explosion that made her gasp his name. Shudders of release claimed her. He touched her until she had drawn the last drop of pleasure, then caught her as she collapsed into his arms.

“It’s all right,” he whispered into her hair.

“Easy for you to say,” she murmured. “You’re not the one who’s naked.”

“I can change that.”

She looked into his dark eyes and smiled. “Would you?”

In the time it took her to get to her feet and walk to the bed, he had pulled off his clothes. Together they drew back the covers, then she patted the mattress.

“Right here,” she told him.

“What are you going to do to me?” he asked, his eyes bright with humor and anticipation.

“Everything.”

* * *

LIZ AND ETHAN ARRIVED BACK AT her place about eight the following morning. If Denise suspected how they’d spent the night, she didn’t say anything.

“Everyone slept fine,” she relayed as she collected her purse.

“Did you?” Ethan asked.

“I did okay. I wanted to check on them a few times in the night, just to make sure no one was having nightmares.” She yawned. “All right. Maybe I didn’t exactly get my full eight hours. I’m heading home now. After church I plan to doze in my chair. It will be good practice for when I’m old.”

Ethan kissed her cheek. “You’ll never be old.”

“I wish.”

“Thanks for staying here,” Liz said, hugging her.

“After what you’d been through, you needed a break. I’m happy I could help.”

Sunday was a lazy day of strolling around town, followed by lunch and a movie. Ethan hung out with them. Liz did her best to act normal so none of the kids would suspect that she and Ethan had behaved like more than friends the night before. At least thinking about sex meant she didn’t have to think about her attacker.

Since she didn’t know what making love with Ethan had meant, there was no reason to talk about it. Not that she would anyway. But it was difficult not to think about it or try to assign various meanings to their time together. It was a bit stressful, so by Monday she was ready to have her life back.

Unfortunately, the town didn’t cooperate. She spent the day fielding visitors who stopped by to check on her. About ten-thirty, after her doorbell rang for the fifth time, she accepted the fact that she wasn’t going to get any work done. At least not that day.

She already had a collection of casseroles in the freezer, salads in the refrigerator and enough cookies to make the kids do the happy dance for weeks. When the doorbell rang again, she braced herself for yet another visit where they would discuss her stalker fan, relive the attack, her rescue and crow over the fact that because she’d been in Fool’s Gold when it had happened, all was well. She wasn’t expecting to find Dakota and Tyler on the porch.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Dakota held up a hand. “Don’t panic. Everything is fine. I was heading into town when Tyler said he wanted to come home and talk to you.”

Liz looked at her son. He stared more at the ground than her, but there was something about the set of his shoulders that made her worry.

“Okay. That’s fine.” She opened the door wider.

Dakota looked curious, but only said, “You can take him back to camp later if you want or have him stay home. Just phone the office and let us know which.”

“I will,” Liz promised.

Dakota waved and left.

Liz followed her son into the living room. Instead of sitting he turned to face her.

His dark eyes, so like Ethan’s, were bright with emotion. He pressed his lips together, as if gathering his thoughts, then spoke.

“You should have married Dad.”

She held in a groan. Not exactly a turn she expected the conversation to take, and not a concept she looked forward to explaining.

“Is this about what that woman said on Saturday?” she asked, doing her best to sound calm.

“Sort of. Parents get married.”

“Some do. Some don’t.”

Tyler glared at her. “I wanted to know my dad. I kept asking and asking and you wouldn’t tell me. You wouldn’t say anything. It’s not fair.” His voice escalated exponentially.

“Okay, if we’re going to have this conversation, we’re going to sit down and we’re going to speak calmly. If you’re going to get upset and yell, I’m not talking to you.”

“Fine,” he grumbled and collapsed on the sofa, his arms folded across his chest.

She sat on the coffee table in front of him, so they were facing each other.

“When I found out I was pregnant, I was terrified. I was only four years older than Melissa. Do you think she’s ready to be a mom?”

He shook his head but didn’t speak.

“I came back to tell your dad, but he was with someone else. A girl. And I was hurt and confused, so I left.”

“You should have stayed. You should have tried harder.”

“I know.”

“You should have,” Tyler repeated, his voice getting louder again. “He would have married you. I asked him and he said he would have married you. We would have been a family.”

She drew in a breath. “Tyler, please. I know you’re upset, but I meant what I said. I’m not having a screaming match with you.” Especially not about this.

She reached out to touch his hand, but he jerked it back. That hurt more than the questions, more than the accusations.

“He would have been my dad,” her son said more quietly.

What was she supposed to say to that? How could she explain?

“I was very young.”

“You keep saying that. I don’t care. You were wrong.” His eyes filled with tears. “You kept me from my dad.”

Which is what this was about.

How was she supposed to explain about hurt pride and a bruised heart? Maybe she didn’t.

“You’re right,” she said again softly. “I did keep you from him. That wasn’t my intent. I didn’t mean to hurt either of you, but that’s what happened and I’m sorry.”

“That’s not good enough.” A tear slipped down his cheek. He looked away. “I needed my dad and he wasn’t there.”

She thought about pointing out how she’d tried again five years ago, but fate, in the form of Rayanne, had intervened. Information Tyler would need at some point, but not now.

“I can’t change the past,” she stated, feeling sick to her stomach.

“He would have come to get me,” Tyler told her, his voice fierce with emotion. “He would have wanted me with him.” He turned to glare at her. “I want to live with him. I want to live with my dad and not you.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

HELL CAME IN THE FORM OF A pain that wouldn’t go away. Ethan’s rejection was nothing when compared with her only child telling her that he didn’t want to live with her anymore. It was as if Tyler reached into her chest and pulled out her still-beating heart and threw it in the trash. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. All she knew was that she couldn’t cry in front of him because it might upset him. An irrational, maternal response that came from instinct.

She stood, amazed that her legs still worked, then walked into the kitchen.

“Did you hear me?” he yelled, following her. “I don’t want to live with you. I want to live with my dad.”

Each breath sliced through her like a knife. She half expected to see blood pouring out of her body, pooling at her feet. It felt like she was dying. Truly no death could be worse.

After finding Denise’s phone number, she turned to Tyler.

“I heard you,” she said quietly. “I need to make a call, then we’re leaving.”

“I don’t want to go back to camp.”

“Good, because you’re not.” Liz couldn’t imagine making the drive. She was in no shape to negotiate the mountain road and surely shouldn’t be behind the wheel of anything dangerous.

She punched in the phone number, then waited until Ethan’s mother answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Denise. It’s Liz.”

“Oh, hi. How are you?”

Talk about a question she couldn’t answer. “I know it’s really short notice, but could you please take Tyler for a couple hours? He’s not sick or anything.”

“Of course. He’s not at camp?”

“Not right now. May I bring him over now?”

“Sure. Is everything all right?”

No. Nothing was all right. Nothing would ever be all right again. “May I bring him now?”

There was a pause. “I’ll be here.”

“Good.”

Liz grabbed her cell phone and her house keys.

“Let’s go,” she told Tyler and walked out of the house.

It took less than fifteen minutes to get to Denise’s place. Tyler didn’t speak and Liz was grateful. When they reached the welcoming home, she stopped on the sidewalk.

“Go on in,” she said. “I’ll wait here. I’ll be by to pick you up later.”

Her son, the child she had given birth to, worried over and loved with her whole heart, looked at her with angry eyes. “I want to live with my dad.”

“I got that.”

“I’ll run away if you don’t let me.”

More wounds, she thought sadly. More pain. A few short weeks ago she and Tyler had been so close. She would never have believed he could speak to her like this. That he would want to drive her out of his life. He was only eleven. How could he not love her?

The front door opened and Denise stood there. The other woman probably wanted to ask what was wrong, but instead she gave Liz an encouraging smile, then turned to Tyler.

“Hi. Have you had lunch?”

“I’m not hungry,” Tyler groused.

“Then we’ve got a problem because I just ordered a pizza.”

Tyler smiled slowly. “With pepperoni?”

“It’s not pizza if there’s no pepperoni.”

“Sweet!” He hurried up the walkway and entered the house.

Liz watched him go, waiting for him to turn around, and say something to her. To run to her, wrap his arms around her and tell her that he was sorry. He didn’t. He didn’t look back at all.

“Are you all right?” Denise asked.

Liz shook her head. “I have to go,” she said, struggling not to cry. “I’ll be back later.”

She hurried away.

Her arms folded, her shoulders hunched, she made her way to Ethan’s office. Now that Tyler was with Denise, Liz could allow herself to think about the man responsible for all this. The man who had turned her child from her.

It had been his plan from the beginning. She realized that now. He’d been angry and hurt and desperate to get what he wanted. She was in the way, and he’d been determined to make her irrelevant.

Why hadn’t she seen it? The truth was here—clearly visible in everything he did. Could reality be any bigger than the injunction? He’d played her from the beginning and she’d let him. She’d thought she was in love with him. Talk about stupid. Following her heart, letting herself trust and love again had cost her the only thing that had ever mattered.

Her son.

She pushed through the door into Ethan’s construction company. The receptionist at the front desk looked up and smiled.

“May I help you?”

“No,” Liz said and headed for Ethan’s private office.

The young woman got up and followed her. They reached Ethan’s door at about the same time.

“You don’t want to get in the middle of this,” Liz told her.

Ethan hung up the phone and stood. He took one look at Liz, then turned to the girl. “It’s all right, Cindy.”

Liz stepped into the office and carefully closed the door behind her. Now that she was here, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. She’d thought she might want to throw things, to scream, to threaten. She’d worried if she had access to a weapon, she would use it. But all her energy was gone, bled away in the open wound of her missing heart.

“You don’t know what it means to love a child,” she said softly. “To be willing to die to protect him. Loving a child isn’t about winning. You don’t deserve him. But you can’t see that. You wanted to punish me. Well, congratulations. You have. You may think you’ve won, but you haven’t. Because for now, you’re a bright, shiny new toy. Eventually Tyler will see that. And then he’ll come home.”

At least that’s what she was telling herself with every breath. That her son would come back to her. That he would love her again. That he loved her now…still…he was just too angry to see it.

Ethan moved toward her, stopping in front of her. “What are you talking about?”

The question sounded genuine. He looked more confused than upset.

No. It was another trick. All of it. She couldn’t trust him. He was the enemy—she’d been the fool who’d forgotten that.

“Tyler told me that he wants to live with you,” she repeated flatly. “Don’t pretend this wasn’t part of your plan.”

“What?” Ethan took a step back. “Jesus, Liz. What are you saying? Tyler’s not living with me.”

He sounded so sincere, she thought. Of course he’d made love with her as if she was important to him. As if she mattered.

“You’ve played me from the beginning,” she revealed. “I let you, so I suppose the blame is as much mine. You pretended to want what was best for everyone. You kissed me and touched me, all the while knowing you were going to do this. You must not have a conscience. At least the guy who tried to kidnap me was honest in his intentions.”

“Wait a minute. Stop this.” He grabbed her upper arms. “Look at me. I’m not trying to hurt you. I never talked to Tyler about coming to live with me.”

Maybe that was true. Maybe Tyler thought of that on his own, but he would have had help getting there. “Didn’t you tell him that if you’d known I was pregnant that you would have married me?”

“Yes, but—”

“Didn’t you talk about all the time you’ve missed with him? Didn’t you blame me?”

“At first. I was angry. But not recently. Liz, I want what’s best for him and that means you. You’re great with him.”

“What was it you said that first week? That I’d had him eleven years, so you should get the rest of his childhood?”

He tightened his grip. “No. I didn’t do this.”

The worst part was she wanted to believe him. “I trusted you. Even when I knew what you’d done to me before, I believed in you.”

He stared into her eyes. “Don’t stop believing in me. Please, Liz. We can make this work.” He sucked in a breath. “Marry me.”

If he hadn’t been holding on to her, she would have fallen. “What?”

“Marry me. It solves everything. Then we both get Tyler. It would be better for the girls, too. They could stay here with their friends. Marry me.”

She pulled free of his grip and crossed to the sofa. After collapsing, she rested her elbows on her knees and dropped her face to her hands.

It was too much, she thought. She was physically and emotionally drained. That was the only reason she hadn’t run screaming into the afternoon. Or hurled a lamp at him.

Marriage as a practical solution?

“We have a child together,” he continued. “It makes sense.”

Of course it did. Because why would love enter into it? He’d married Rayanne because she was pregnant—why wouldn’t he marry her because they had a child together?

She straightened. “No.”

He sat on the sofa and angled toward her. “Come on, Liz. Why not?”

Where was she supposed to start? “We don’t love each other.”

Only a half truth. She loved him, but this was hardly the time to go into that.

“We like each other,” he stated. “We get along. And it’s better for the kids. You said being a good parent was all about making sacrifices.”

“Not those kind.” She rose.

“Wait.” He stood. “We have to figure this out.”

“No, we don’t. I have to.”

“Tyler is my son, too.”

“You’ve made that very clear—to all of us.”

She left.

Ethan stared after her, not sure if he should follow her or give her time to sort things out. He still couldn’t believe what Tyler had done. The kid hadn’t warned him that he was about to tell his mother he wanted to live with Ethan.

His son wanted to live with him. Ethan couldn’t help feeling excited at the idea of really getting to know his son. They could have so much fun together—really bond. Not that he wanted Liz hurt.

His office door opened and Nevada stood there.

Nevada was the quietest of the triplets, the most practical. She’d studied engineering, had come to work for him and did a helluva good job. Customers liked her, the other employees respected her. When he wasn’t around, she also ran things.

Now she stared at him with a combination of pity and amusement.

“You really are the stupidest man on the planet,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“I would have thought the statement was self-explanatory.” She leaned against the door frame. “I just passed Liz and asked how she was. She said you asked her to marry you for practical reasons. Tell me that she’s lying.”

“It’s not like that.”

Nevada raised her eyebrows. “Then what’s it like?”

He explained about Tyler and Liz being hurt and how getting married would solve all their problems.

“Very romantic, too,” she quipped sarcastically.

“This isn’t about romance. It’s about doing the right thing.”

Nevada stared at him for a long time. “I think it’s about you getting what you want. You’re not thinking about Liz. Why does she need to marry you?”

“Tyler needs a father.”

“Sure. But what does that have to do with Liz?”

“She’s his mother.”

“Yeah. I knew that. You’re not answering the question. What does Liz get out of marrying you? It’s not like she needs a second income. Or housing. Most people get married because they’re in love and want to be together, but you already took that off the table. So why exactly should she marry you?”

“I, ah…” He swore silently.

Something he’d never considered. Why would Liz want to be with him? He blurted out the proposal without thinking. Because it was the right thing.

Just like with Rayanne, he thought. Was that so wrong?

While he knew it wasn’t, he couldn’t escape a nagging sense of having screwed up in the worst way possible.

Nevada shook her head. “I’ll give you a hint because you’re my brother. The only thing Liz needs and wants from you is for you to love her.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Of course I can. It’s what every woman wants. Why else would she put up with your crap? She didn’t have to be this nice. She didn’t have to tell you about Tyler. She could have taken her nieces back to San Francisco that first night and you would never have known. Liz has been giving you chances since she got here and I’m going to guess you’ve blown every single one of them.”

“No,” he retorted, even as he wondered if Nevada was right.

“Here’s the thing, Ethan. You have a very limited window of time to make this right. Assuming you want to. Because if you’re trying to convince Liz to stay with you, you’re going about it all wrong.”

Then Nevada walked out, leaving him staring after her.

Wait. She couldn’t leave like that. He had more questions. Damn.

As he stood alone in his office, he realized that maybe his sister’s point was that he had to figure it out himself.

“I’m not the bad guy,” he spoke into the silence. “I’m doing the right thing.”

But for the first time in his life, he wondered if doing the right thing was going to be enough.

* * *

LIZ WALKED THROUGH TOWN. THERE were plenty of tourists on the street and she had to weave between them. Summer was a busy time, with visitors flooding the area to check out the wineries, hike in the mountains and spend time on the lake. To anyone who didn’t have a gaping hole in her chest, Fool’s Gold probably looked really good. She knew better. It was her own personal, living nightmare. It was the place where she’d lost both her heart and her son.

She turned onto a residential street and reminded herself that she hadn’t truly lost Tyler. It only felt that way. He would come around. What she didn’t know was how long it would take and she wasn’t completely sure she trusted Ethan to be impartial. A part of him had to love the fact that his son wanted to live with him.

But being a parent was about more than saying yes. It could be difficult and frustrating. There were lessons every child had to learn. If someone didn’t teach the kid right while he was young, life lessons were that much harder to grasp later.

Would Ethan get that? Would he look past his need to connect with Tyler to what was best for the boy? Even as she asked the question, a part of her knew she was searching for reasons to be able to tell Tyler and herself why spending more time—maybe even living with his dad—wasn’t possible.

Because the truth was, Ethan would be a great dad. He’d always been responsible. When his father had died, he’d taken over the family business. Because it was the right thing to do. He’d helped his mom, his brothers and sisters. He’d…

She stopped on the sidewalk and replayed the words in her mind. Because it was the right thing to do. That had always defined Ethan. He hadn’t loved Rayanne. He’d married her because she was pregnant. He’d claimed he would have done the same with Liz, and she believed him.

Had Ethan ever declared himself? Had he ever truly loved anyone?

There had been a time, when she’d been eighteen, she would have sworn he had loved her. Had she just been fooling herself? He’d admitted that he’d been too young then. Neither of them could have possibly known if they could make it. But he would have tried.

There was more to a relationship than just giving one’s heart. There was caring and commitment and doing the right thing. There was being a good person. Ethan had all those qualities.

But he didn’t love her.

That was why his offer of a practical marriage had hurt her so much. Why she couldn’t accept. She loved him too much to accept a half life, even if it was the right thing to do.

Which left her with a dilemma. What happened now?

As there was no easy answer, she kept walking. When she got close to Denise’s house, she saw Ethan’s mother sitting on the front porch, obviously watching for her.

“Tyler told me what happened,” the other woman said as Liz approached. “I’m so sorry.”

Liz found herself fighting the need to give in to tears. “Me, too. It’s not that I mind Tyler spending more time with his dad…” She had to stop and clear her throat.

“It’s that he’s rejecting you along the way,” Denise summarized softly, then patted the step. “Come sit down.”

Liz joined her. She felt sick and confused and lost.

Denise moved close and put her arm around her. The gesture was oddly comforting.

“This isn’t about you,” Denise began. “I know it feels like it, but it’s not. You’re a great mom. We can all see that. We don’t even have to watch you with Tyler to get it. Just being around him tells us. He’s bright and confident and curious. Open and friendly, but with plenty of common sense. He cares about other people. You did that. You raised a great son.”

Liz pressed her lips together and nodded. Her throat was too tight for her to speak.

“He’s also still a kid and he has no idea how he’s hurting you. He genuinely can’t see that.”

“I know,” she whispered, then had to wipe away several tears. “I keep telling myself it’s not about me. He’s angry about his dad and Ethan is new and exciting.”

“Exactly. If only knowing made it hurt less.”

Liz looked at her and nodded.

“Oh, honey, I wish I could make it better,” Denise told her.

“Thanks.” She swallowed and tried to get the tears under control. “Want to guess Ethan’s response?”

Denise sighed. “I do love my son, but he’s just a man, so I’m going to guess he was an idiot.”

“He thinks we should get married. That will solve all the problems. Isn’t it practical? I’ll stay here and he can see Tyler all the time and hey, even help with the girls.”

As soon as she spoke, Liz realized it was probably a mistake. Denise was Ethan’s mother. Of course she would take her son’s side. No doubt the other woman would enjoy having her grandson around more.

Denise sighed. “Is this where I tell you Ethan takes after his father?”

Liz glanced at her. “You don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“The words practical and marriage don’t belong in the same conversation. Nothing about marriage is practical. It’s wonderful and difficult and amazing and demanding. Besides, no one wants a proposal like that. We want to hear that the man in question is madly in love with us. We want to be swept away. Not compared to a really good microfiber dust cloth. Attractive and practical. That’s going to make your heart beat faster.”

Liz leaned her head against the other woman’s shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered, wishing she could have known Denise years ago. Maybe if they’d had a chance to form a relationship, things would have been different. She could have come and talked to her and—

Liz straightened, then scrambled to her feet. “You’re not surprised he proposed. You know we’ve been…” Sleeping seemed like the wrong word. “Seeing each other?”

Denise laughed. “Yes. It’s fairly obvious. Ethan is many things, but subtle isn’t one of them. He was furious at first, but now you’re getting along. I assumed things were progressing.”

Denise paused. “I wasn’t sure at first. I always felt so badly about how you grew up. I could see how difficult it was for you. I have three daughters myself. Yet I couldn’t seem to reach out to you. I never knew how or what to say.”

Liz hugged her arms across her chest. “That doesn’t matter now.”

“It matters a lot. All your life the people you care about have hurt you. Including Tyler. Now my son proposed in a way designed to make sure you know you’re not special to him.” Her voice softened. “For what it’s worth, I think he does care about you.”

Liz appreciated the support, but the words didn’t change anything. “Caring isn’t enough.”

“I know.” Denise looked as if she was going to say more on the subject, then sighed. “Please don’t take this wrong, but I think you should let Ethan have Tyler for the rest of the week and through the weekend.”

Liz froze. She eyed the door and wondered if she could go inside and grab her son and get out before Denise stopped her.

“Ethan and Tyler both have an unrealistic view of their relationship,” Denise continued. “I have six kids. I know what it’s like and sure, from the outside, it’s easy. He doesn’t have a clue as to the reality. Tyler doesn’t, either. Maybe you should let them find out.”

“I can’t,” she breathed.

Denise rose and moved toward her. They stared at each other.

“I give you my word Tyler will be safe. Ethan isn’t going to disappear with him. You know that. Let them find out just how boring everyday life can be. Your son loves you. Give him a chance to miss you.”

The words were impossible to hear, but Liz knew they were accurate. Her gut told her this was exactly what had to happen. Not that she could imagine even a day without her son. Although he’d been gone overnight before—to camp, with friends—this was different. This terrified her.

Slowly, she nodded. “Okay. Through the weekend.”

Denise pulled her close. “It will be all right. You’ll see.”

“I hope so.”

She hugged the other woman and was held in return. For a second she closed her eyes and absorbed the loving support.

“It’s not supposed to be this hard.”

Denise patted her back. “It’s not supposed to be a lot of things, but still we get through it. You’ll get through this.”

“I know.” She straightened. “I’m going to go home and pack his things. Would you mind calling Ethan and telling him the plan?”

“Not at all. Don’t you want Tyler to pack for himself?”

“No. If he’s so ready to move out, let’s start now.”

Denise touched her arm. “I feel your pain, honey. Hang in there.”

“I will,” Liz promised. After all, she didn’t have a choice.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO tonight?” Tyler asked, cutting into his steak. “We could watch a movie.”

Ethan thought about his collection of action movies—most of which were rated R—and knew they would be a bad choice. “We’ll check out pay-per-view.”

“Sweet! Mom only lets me watch movies on the weekend.”

Something Ethan hadn’t known. “Why?”

“I dunno. She wants me to read and stuff. Play outside. I wish she’d brought my Xbox.”

Ethan had a feeling that there was a specific reason for that. Liz had wanted him to spend as much time with his son as possible.

“How’s your steak?” Ethan asked.

“Good.” Tyler glanced at him. “Are you going to cook something else for dinner tomorrow?”

Because this was the second time in four nights he’d barbecued steaks. The other two nights they’d gone out.

Usually Ethan grabbed something on the way home, or his mother dropped off a casserole for him to heat up in the microwave. Since he’d taken Tyler, she hadn’t been anywhere to be seen and neither had his sisters. He’d left messages for all of them and while they’d called back, they’d managed to miss him both at the office and home. He had a feeling they were doing that on purpose.

The catering service he used when he had company was at the hotel for the week. Something about a big corporate retreat.

His cooking skills were limited at best, but there had to be something he could make.

“What would you like?” he asked.

“Lasagna.”

Pasta, meat and sauce. How hard could it be?

“Sure. I’ll swing by the grocery store tomorrow and we’ll have it tomorrow night.”

“We’re out of milk, too, and could we have a different cereal?”

“We’ll make a list after dinner.”

“Okay.” Tyler chewed another bite. “I don’t have any more clean clothes.”

“What?”

“I have socks and shorts, but no T-shirts or underwear. And I’m supposed to make a poster for camp tomorrow.”

Ethan stared at him. “What kind of poster?”

“Like for a movie. You have poster board, right?”

“Not exactly.” He frowned. Who knew summer camp had homework? “If you have to make a poster, we can’t watch a movie.”

“But you said we could.”

“That was before you told me about the poster. School comes first.”

“But this isn’t school, it’s camp.”

Ethan felt the beginnings of a headache. He was tired. Not because he wasn’t sleeping well, but because his mornings were starting earlier. Tyler didn’t like getting up and moved at the speed of an exhausted snail. With the extra errands he had to run, there was no time to get to the gym. Now instead of a quiet evening watching a movie, they were going to the office supply store, to buy poster board and markers, then get through making a poster.

“When did you get the assignment about the poster?”

“Monday.”

“And you didn’t mention it until now?”

“Mom always asks.”

Of course she did.

“Is there anything for dessert?” Tyler looked expectant.

Ethan held in a groan. “We’ll stop on our way back from getting the art supplies.”

“We could bake cookies.”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“We’re riding bikes on the weekend, right? With Josh?”

Ethan nodded.

“What else are we going to do?”

It was then Ethan realized he’d only ever had his son four or five hours at a time. Blocks that were easy to fill. Suddenly the weekend seemed like an endless parade of empty hours. They mocked him and made him think he should have opened a bottle of wine with dinner. Or a case.

“We’ll have to come up with some ideas,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“We could go hiking. Or out on the lake. Or swimming. Maybe Abby can come with us. She’s really cool, for a girl. Or the park…”

Tyler kept talking. A steady buzz of ideas and questions and statements. Ethan watched his son and wondered how on earth Liz had done it by herself. He didn’t know that he would have managed, let alone done as good a job. The hell of it was, loving Tyler didn’t guarantee getting it right. Having someone like Liz to watch his back would make all the difference.

She hadn’t had anyone. Because he’d never bothered to go after her. Hurt pride had kept him from following her. Hurt pride had cost him more than he could ever recover.

* * *

“TO THE STUPIDITY OF MEN,” Dakota said, raising a glass. “And my brother, who is their king.”

“To Ethan,” Montana said.

Liz, Nevada and Denise also raised their margaritas and toasted.

After a dinner of delicious Mexican food, Melissa had gone to a friend’s house for a sleepover and Abby had danced off to watch the latest Hannah Montana movie out on DVD. Liz and the Hendrix women were in the backyard, sprawled on lawn chairs, slowly getting drunk.

Word had quickly spread through the family and to Liz’s surprise, Ethan’s sisters had rallied around her as much as Denise had. They’d been appalled at the proposal, insulted by his refusal to declare his love and disappointed by her physical restraint in not at least throwing something at his head.

“He’s having a tough time with Tyler,” Denise informed, leaning back and staring up at the stars. “His phone messages are getting more and more desperate. Apparently he tried to make lasagna.” She giggled. “It didn’t go well.”

“Lasagna? That’s a lot of work.”

“His first message was something about pasta and sauce and how it wouldn’t be that hard. The second one was to ask what a lasagna pan looked like. Then there was something about did he really have to cook the pasta noodles first. The last message said they were eating out.”

Liz tried to laugh with everyone else, but she mostly felt sad. Having Tyler gone was getting harder, not easier.

Dakota turned to her. “He’s asking about you. Today he came into my office and wanted to call you. I know he misses you.”

“I hope so.” She desperately wanted to talk to her son, but knew the plan was the best way to go. Ethan would return Tyler to her Sunday night. Then they would talk. The three of them.

In the meantime, she had women she could depend on. Friends, and that felt nice.

It was close to ten when everyone left. She rinsed out the glasses and put them on the counter. Washing could wait until morning. While she was enjoying her pleasant margarita-induced buzz, she didn’t think that it was a good match for a soap-slicked glass.

She turned off the lights in the kitchen and walked back into the living room. Abby sat on the bottom stair.

“I thought you were going to bed,” Liz said. “Is everything all right?”

Abby shook her head.

Liz pointed to the sofa. “Want to have a seat?”

“Okay.”

The preteen got up and walked to the sofa. Liz settled next to her, put an arm around her and kissed the top of Abby’s head.

“Tell me what’s going on,” she coaxed gently. “You feeling all right?”

“I’m okay.” The girl snuggled close. “Don’t be mad, but I don’t want to go.”

Go? As in… “You don’t want to move to San Francisco?”

Abby nodded. “Can’t we stay here? I like it here. I feel safe. I have friends and Melissa has friends. Tyler likes it, too. Everybody wants to stay here but you.”

Talk about a kick in the stomach.

The worst of it was, Abby told the truth. Everyone did want to stay here. It would make things easier for Tyler and Ethan. Technically, Liz could work anywhere. The town accepted her—with the occasional dig at her choices. But they’d also come to her rescue. She had a past here, and while that wasn’t necessarily a good thing, maybe it was something she couldn’t escape. Maybe she should stop trying.

But staying meant facing Ethan and now that she was willing to accept what seemed like her fate, she could also be honest. At first leaving had been about not belonging, but later she’d wanted to go to get away from him. Being around him when she loved him was like living with an open wound.

“We’ll be really, really good,” Abby promised.

Liz wrapped her other arm around the girl. “You’re already that. I know it would mean a lot to both of you if we stayed here. I guess…” She drew in a breath. “I guess we can do that.”

Abby sat up and beamed at her. “Really?”

Liz nodded.

“I can’t believe it. Are we going to live in this house? If we do, you need a real bed and we need another bedroom. Or do you want me and Melissa to share? We can. She won’t like it, but I don’t mind.”

Liz hadn’t gotten that far. Given the choice, she would prefer a house without so many memories. “Moving might be easier.”

“We can move. We’ll help pack.” Abby threw both her arms around Liz and hung on. “Thank you so much, Liz. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Abby rose and spun in a circle, her bright red hair flying around her face. “I’m so happy! We’re staying. We’re staying!”

Liz reached for her cell phone and handed it to the girl. “Why don’t you text your sister and tell her?”

“Can I? Thanks. I will. This is the best.”

Liz wondered how long it would take Abby to wind down enough to sleep. Staying in Fool’s Gold. Who would have thought? When Ethan returned Tyler, she would tell them both. Then Ethan could take back his stupid, thoughtless, practical proposal. The town was small enough that she and Ethan could co-parent their son. He could spend equal time with each of them. That should satisfy Ethan and the judge.

It was, she told herself, the right thing to do.

* * *

ETHAN STOOD IN TYLER’S ROOM at his house and watched his son sleep. After a morning of bike riding and afternoon of failing to get peanut butter cookies to bake right and an evening of watching the first two Harry Potter movies back to back, Tyler had fallen asleep on the sofa.

Now, as he stared at his son, he felt a warmth in his chest. Love was there. Real love, born of time and frustration and a sense of being a complete failure as a dad, but still wanting to get it right. Tyler was everything he’d wanted his son to be—and he wasn’t easy. He got the latter from his mother.

Ethan stepped out of the room and went downstairs. In the quiet living room, he sank onto the couch and tried to figure out what he was going to do next.

He missed Liz.

He hadn’t realized how much he’d gotten used to having her in his life until she was gone. He missed talking to her, seeing her, having her smile at him. He missed her in his bed, but that was the least of it. While he would want her until the day he died, the ache inside him wasn’t just about getting laid. It was about having a conversation, hearing her laugh, watching her with Tyler and Melissa and Abby.

He wanted her in his life. He wanted her to be his family.

He wasn’t the only one. Tyler had gone from being mad at his mom to talking about her all the time. Today he’d regularly counted down the number of hours until he saw her again. Both of them had learned a lesson in the past few days. Which was probably the point.

Tyler had learned to show his mother a little more respect and Ethan had learned that Liz was everything to him. His eyes sank closed as he realized he loved her.

What should have been a stellar moment in his life made him instead want to put a fist through the wall. He loved Liz. He loved her. And instead of making her feel like a princess, instead of promising to love and adore her forever, he’d offered marriage as a practical solution.

“Oh, crap.”

He rolled onto his side, his face in the cushion. Talk about stupid.

He lay there, mentally beating himself up, then straightened. Fine. He’d screwed up. He would fix it. There had to be a way. Liz was a great woman—and he would fight for her. Figure out how to do it right. How to be the man she deserved. She’d loved him once, maybe she could again. Everything wasn’t lost.

He understood what she didn’t like about Fool’s Gold. While he didn’t like the idea of leaving everything behind, it didn’t have to be like that. He could run his business from San Francisco. Make a few trips in a week. Maybe they could have a second house here and spend summers in town. That would be a good compromise. Liz wasn’t looking to make him miserable. She would meet him halfway.

As long as she was willing to give him another chance.

She had to, he told himself. He would convince her. Somehow he would show her that they belonged together.

The decision made, he rose and started for the front door. Halfway across the porch, he stopped. Showing up at her house in the middle of the night probably wasn’t smart. Nor was leaving Tyler home alone. So Ethan would wait. He could come up with a plan and this time, he would get it right.

* * *

LIZ WATCHED THE CLOCK anxiously. Ethan was supposed to bring Tyler home on Sunday. It was only a little after eleven. At this rate, she would give herself a heart attack in the next hour. She needed to keep busy.

Both Melissa and Abby had run off to spend the morning with friends, celebrating her decision to keep them in town. They were beyond happy and seeing their joy confirmed that she’d made the right decision. Tyler would appreciate it, too. The chance to be with his dad more, and with his family.

She’d wanted to call Denise but had decided that Ethan and Tyler should hear it first. So she’d spent a restless night and a bad morning. Writing would be impossible. There was no way she could focus.

The thought of cleaning made her shudder, so she grabbed a big straw hat and a few garden tools from the back porch then went outside to see what she could do to spruce up the garden. She’d barely begun weeding when she heard someone calling for her.

“Mom? Mom? Where are you?”

Still on her knees, she straightened. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest as her son burst through the back door and raced toward her.

“Mom!”

He flew into her arms and hugged her so hard, she couldn’t breathe. She held on to him, doing her best not to cry, letting the familiar feel of his body ease her fears that she’d lost him forever.

“Hey, you,” she whispered, when he’d released her and stepped back. She pulled off her gardening gloves and shoved them into her pocket.

He stared into her eyes, then hugged her again. “I really missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

He glanced back at his father and then at her. “Maybe I could still live here, you know. More of the time.”

“I think that could be arranged. Your dad and I will work things out.”

“Yeah?” His dark eyes—Ethan’s eyes—lit up.

She stood and ruffled his hair. “It’ll be a grown-up thing. Melissa and Abby will be back soon and we’re going to the pool. Want to get changed and go with us?”

“Sure.”

He dashed toward the house, then paused and looked at his dad. He ran back, hugged Ethan, then took off again.

Liz stared after him, feeling her world right itself. Denise had called it exactly as everything had played out. At least from Tyler’s point of view.

She turned to Ethan. “How did it go?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Damn, I missed you, Liz.”

She thought about their last conversation. How he’d hurt her with his thoughtless words. It wasn’t his fault, she told herself. Why would he offer more? She’d never bothered to tell him how she felt and now she never would. Not when she was staying in town.

“Did you two get along okay?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Great. He’s a good kid. But there’s a whole lot more work involved than I realized. A few hours here and there is easier than taking care of him full-time.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think I’m nearly as exciting as he thought I’d be. Regular life taught us both something.”

“That was the point.”

He moved closer. “Liz, I never wanted to take him from you. Okay, maybe at first, but not now. I care about you both. We have to work something out.”

She held up a hand to stop him. It was oddly difficult to be this close to him, to hear him talk. Probably because as much as she’d hated how he’d proposed, there was a part of her that couldn’t help dreaming about how it could have been. If he’d loved her back.

“We have to talk about it,” he continued, ignoring her gesture to stop. “We meet with the judge next week.”

“It won’t be a problem,” she said. “I’m staying in Fool’s Gold.”

He stared at her. “What about your life in San Francisco?”

“I’ll sell the house and move here. It won’t be that difficult. Tyler wants to stay, as do the girls. If I’m here, you and I can co-parent him. I won’t live in this house, so I’ll make sure I buy something close to you. Tyler can spend alternating weeks with each of us. That should satisfy the judge and you’ll both be happy.”

She had already talked to Peggy, who was interested in moving to small-town America. “It should only take me a week or so to get things organized back there. If you’ll take Tyler, I’ll ask your Mom and Montana to split duties with the girls while I get everything settled. I’ll make sure I’m back before everyone starts school.”

“What do you get out of the deal?” he asked.

“I get to make my family happy. There are things I don’t like about this place, but the good far outweighs the bad. Eventually people will stop telling me whether or not they support what I did with you and Tyler. I’m a writer, Ethan. I can work anywhere.”

“Then why do you look so sad?”

Because being close to him, knowing that she’d never been able to forget him or get over him, wasn’t her idea of a good time. Because the love inside of her seemed to grow bigger every day. Eventually he would find someone. Who wouldn’t love Ethan? And then she would have to smile and pretend she was happy while he went off with someone else.

“I’m tired,” she answered. “I missed having Tyler around.” She glanced toward the house. “I need to get inside. We’re going to the pool.”

She started past him. He grabbed her wrist and held her in place.

“Wait.” He stared into her eyes. “Liz, we belong together. We’ve always belonged together.”

She had a bad feeling about where he was going and she didn’t think she could survive it again. “Don’t.”

“Hear me out. I’m sorry about what I said before. I don’t want to marry you because it’s practical. I want to marry you because I love you.”

He released her then, as if confident the words were enough to keep her where he wanted her.

“We can be a family together. The five of us. I was going to tell you that I’d move to San Francisco to be with you. But this is better. This is home, Liz, for all of us.”

They were good words, she admitted, feeling the sadness pour through her. Nice words. Telling her that he would move added a little touch of sacrifice. Playing the kid card was good, too. Easy enough now that she was staying.

“No,” she said and started for the house.

“What?” He came after her. “Why not?”

She paused by the back porch and looked at him. “I don’t believe you. Oh, I think you want to marry me. It makes everything tidy. Besides, I’m the mother of your child and it’s the right thing to do. But love? You never loved me. Not then, not now.”

She drew her gardening gloves from her pocket and squeezed them in her hand. “You haven’t loved anyone outside of your family. I’m not sure why that is. If you’re afraid to care that much or if there’s no need. You’ve always been blessed with everything you want. Even now, you’re getting your son with very little effort on your part.”

“Is that what this is about? I haven’t suffered enough?”

“No. It’s about risking everything. Putting your heart on the line, even when you don’t know what’s going to happen. It’s risking having the person you love rip it out and stomp all over it in public.”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“I loved you, Ethan. I gave you everything I had. Not just my heart and my soul, but my body. I’d spent years being called a whore and being propositioned and lied about, so I protected myself. I didn’t care about anyone. Until you. I was a virgin and you called me a slut in front of your friends. You said I wasn’t worthy.”

“I know. I’m the one who wasn’t worthy. I never have been.”

Hearing that didn’t make her feel any better. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m letting the past go. This is the last time we’ll talk about it. I loved you then and I still love you. But I won’t marry you. I won’t be one more thing you got right. We’ll raise Tyler together, in this town. That’s going to have to be enough.”

She walked up the steps to the porch, crossed the refinished wood and stepped into the house.

For a second she allowed herself to hope. To believe that he would come after her, tell her that she was wrong. That of course he loved her. He’d always loved her. He would beg and plead and she would allow herself to be convinced because that’s all it would take. A little effort on his part.

But there was nothing. Finally she turned around and he was gone.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“HOW DRUNK DO YOU WANT TO get?” Raoul asked as he poured another Scotch and handed it to Ethan.

“I’ll let you know when I’ve had enough.”

“Not a great plan,” Josh told him from his place on the opposite sofa. “You’re already going to feel plenty of pain in the morning.”

The three men were sprawled in Ethan’s living room. It wasn’t even dark and they were already plastered. At least Ethan was—he couldn’t speak for his friends. They were probably being more careful.

As for a hangover, bring it on. Maybe a pounding head would help him forget what Liz had said to him that morning.

“She doesn’t believe I love her,” he mumbled into his drink.

“Liz Sutton,” Josh said to Raoul. “It’s a long story.”

“Not long,” Ethan replied. “I got her pregnant, turned my back on her and didn’t love her enough.” He frowned. “I didn’t know she was pregnant. If I’d known, I woulda married her. Which makes me the bad guy. Doing the right thing is wrong. You two know that?”

“She’s not mad because you would have married her,” Josh explained.

“Then why?”

His friend shifted on the sofa. “Women are complicated.”

“She said I don’t love her. I do. Always did. I never saw that before.” He gulped more Scotch. “There was always something about her.”

“What did you say?” Raoul asked. “When you said you loved her?”

Ethan squinted at the other man, trying to bring him into focus. “I said I loved her. That I wanted to marry her and it wasn’t because it was prac…” He cleared his throat. “Practical.”

“When did you say it was practical?” Josh asked.

Ethan waved. “You know. Before.”

“Before what?”

“The lasht time I proposed.” Was it him or did his words sound funny? “Before I knew I loved her. Said we should get married because it’s the right thing to do.”

His face had gone numb, he thought, poking his cheek a few times. And his brain felt boiled. Or was it pickled? Maybe it was pickled.

“Keep her in town. With the kids. So I could be with Tyler.”

“You are so screwed,” Josh said conversationally. “You shouldn’t have said that.”

“Maybe not. But I love her and she doesn’t care. How can she not care?”

“Maybe she cares too much,” Raoul told him. “You’ve been acting like a jerk for a while now. What if she’s loved you all along? She’s been waiting for you to notice and instead you offered a business arrangement.”

“And took her kid from her,” Josh added.

“Didn’t take. It was just a few days. Kids are hard. Women make it look so easy, but it’s hard.” Ethan closed his eyes and leaned back in the sofa leather.

His fingers relaxed on the glass. He heard someone get up suddenly and then the glass was gone.

“You’re about ready to pass out,” Raoul said.

“Gotta talk to Liz.”

“You need to give Liz some time,” Josh told him. “And you need a plan. You’ve blown it from the beginning. You need to make a big gesture.”

“Liz isn’t the big gesture type,” Ethan mumbled, feeling himself start to drift. “I think she wants to be left alone. I should give her what she wants.”

“The woman wants to be swept away,” Raoul corrected him. “I know about these things.”

“Not Liz.”

There was the pain the other men had promised, but it wasn’t from the alcohol. Instead it came from his heart—in knowing he could never have Liz. Maybe there’d been a chance, but he’d blown it too many times.

She’d said she loved him. That was nice of her. Kind. He would hold onto those words always, knowing that if he’d been smarter… If he’d understood more sooner, he could have had her.

“Love Liz,” he mumbled.

“We got that,” Josh said. “You should tell her.”

“Too late. Way too late.”

And then the world went dark.

* * *

LIZ CLOSED UP HER HOUSE IN San Francisco quicker than she would have thought. She ended up leaving all three kids with Denise. For some reason she’d been unable to get Ethan on the phone later that Sunday. Denise had said everything was fine, but wouldn’t go into details.

After making the drive to the beautiful city by the bay, she’d spent two days with Peggy, sorting through the items she and Tyler would need in the next couple of months and what they could live without.

The must-have items were packed up and marked for the shipping company to pick up at the end of the week. Peggy would arrange for movers to take care of the rest.

Selling the house proved to be beyond easy. Liz had called a friend who was in real estate. Heidi had admitted that she and her husband had always loved the house, had decided to start a family and were desperate to get out of their apartment. Negotiations took less than an hour, the inspection was on Tuesday and by Wednesday morning, they were in escrow for a quick close. Peggy planned to come to Fool’s Gold the week after Labor Day, to see if she wanted to move there.

With everything settled, Thursday morning, Liz started back for Fool’s Gold. She and Ethan had an appointment with the judge the next day. With her settling in town and with plans to co-parent Tyler, they could meet the judge’s requirements and both avoid jail.

After picking up the kids, they went out to the Fox and Hound for lunch.

“School starts on Tuesday,” Melissa said as soon as they’d slid into the booth. “We all need clothes and supplies. We’re really behind on our shopping.”

Liz laughed. “Are we?”

“There’s three of us now, Mom,” Tyler indicated. “It’s gonna take longer.”

“You’re right. When we get home, you can all make lists of what you need. We’ll head out later and start the shopping. We’ll do clothes tonight, then school supplies tomorrow. I have to be in court at nine, but it shouldn’t take long.”

Tyler grinned. “Are you going to talk to the judge and tell her that you’re staying in town?”

“Yes. That should make her happy.”

Melissa’s phone chirped, indicating she had a text message. She glanced at the screen, then slid the phone back into her pocket before Liz could remind her no phones were allowed at the table.

“Are you staying in Fool’s Gold because of us?” Abby asked quietly.

“Maybe a little. And so Tyler can be near his dad.”

Abby bit her lower lip. “You’ve been really good to us.” She glanced at her lap, then up at Liz. “Can I call you Mom?”

The unexpected question slammed into Liz like a warm, gooey feel-good truck. Tears filled her eyes and she found it really hard to speak.

“I asked Tyler if he minded,” Abby added quickly. “He said it was fine.”

Liz put her arm around the girl and hugged her. “I’d like that,” she said. “And saying it doesn’t take away from your real mom. I know you love her.”

Abby snuggled close.

Liz glanced at Melissa who was staring out the window. “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

The teen flushed. “Sometimes I want to, but…” She swallowed. “I don’t know.”

“‘Liz’ is fine.”

“Maybe, you know. Later.”

“Whatever makes you comfortable.”

The waitress came by and they ordered. The kids started talking about the End-of-Summer festival that weekend and how they had to get all the back-to-school shopping finished so they could go.

Liz listened and smiled, feeling content. She might always miss Ethan, always love him, but as far as the rest of her family went—it was perfect. Maybe doing the right thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

* * *

LIZ MET ETHAN OUTSIDE OF THE courthouse. He looked good, she thought, trying not to stare. Too good. Maybe with time she would get used to seeing him and her body would stop reacting to his presence. Maybe things would get easier between them. A girl could hope.

“Hi,” he greeted as she approached. “How was your trip to San Francisco?”

“Good. Everything’s underway. I sold the house.”

He held open the door to the courthouse and they walked inside. “That’s fast. You’re going to look for something here?”

She nodded, hoping she didn’t look as disappointed as she felt.

She’d thought he might bring up their last meeting. Say something, hint that he’d meant what he said. If only he did love her and want them to be together for the right reasons.

Instead they walked in silence toward the judge’s chambers.

Fifteen minutes later, Judge Powers announced she was pleased with their decision to co-parent Tyler, warned them not to waste her time again and excused them.

“Tyler said you’re going to the summer festival tomorrow,” Ethan said.

“All the kids want to go. There’s some band playing at noon. Apparently it’s a big deal. I have no idea who they are and that makes me feel old.”

“You’re not old.”

“Thanks.”

They walked out into the sunny morning and headed for the parking lot. Ethan paused by her SUV.

“I want you to be happy, Liz,” he said. “You’ve given up a lot to be here.”

“Not that much,” she countered. “It’s important to take care of the kids and keep them happy. That’s what I’m doing.”

“Who takes care of you?”

His dark eyes seemed to see inside her. She wanted to squirm, to look away so he couldn’t tell how much she loved him. Concern was one thing, but pity was just too sad.

“I’m pretty tough.”

“Because you had to be,” he commented. “I want to help any way I can.”

Love me, she thought desperately. Swear I’m the best part of your life.

But he didn’t say the words and she didn’t have the courage to ask him to.

They looked at each other, then he turned and walked away.

* * *

THE END OF SUMMER FESTIVAL was part county fair, part farmer’s market, part party for the parents at the thought of school starting in a few days.

Liz arrived with all three kids by ten Saturday morning and by ten-fifteen, she found herself alone. Melissa went off with a group of her girlfriends, while Tyler and Abby met up with kids from camp. Liz purchased ride tickets for the younger two and made them all promise to meet her at eleven-thirty for lunch. Then she stood in the center of the crowd, wondering what to do next.

She explored the booths in the makeshift marketplace. There were crafts for sale, including some printed T-shirts she bought for the kids.

Denise Hendrix found her looking at candles.

“The jasmine scented ones are great,” Ethan’s mother said with a smile. “I have them all over my bathroom. How’s it going?”

“Good.” She held up the bag of T-shirts. “I’m doing my bit for the economy.”

“And the economy thanks you.” Denise pointed to a shaved ice stand. “Come on. I’m buying.”

They walked to the stand and got in line. “You doing all right?”

“I’m fine. I’m starting house hunting next week.”

Denise sighed. “My son’s an idiot.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s obvious the two of you are crazy about each other. You should be together.”

“Ethan’s not in love with me. He’s interested in duty rather than love and I’m not interested in settling.”

“Not even if walking away breaks your heart?”

Liz sighed. “You loved Ethan’s dad, right?”

“Constantly and to this day.”

“Would you have settled for anything less than all he had?”

“No.” Denise smiled sadly. “You’re making the right decision. My head tells me that. My heart wants you to have a happy ending.”

“I’m happy. Or I will be. I have three great kids, a job I love and hey, I’m staying in Fool’s Gold. Won’t that be perfect.”

Denise laughed. “Are you still worried about the town?”

“No. I don’t like that people are so free with their opinions, but the good really outweighs the bad. I know that if I’m attacked by a crazed stalker, everyone will come to my rescue. The kids are safe here. We can all be happy. That’s what matters.”

There was a crackling noise, as if someone had flipped on the sound system. Liz and Denise both turned toward the stage at the far end of the park. Liz saw someone holding a microphone, but she couldn’t see who it was.

“Hi, everyone,” a familiar voice said.

Liz blinked. That sounded like Ethan.

“I’d like to have your attention for a minute.”

Denise put a hand to her chest. “Is that Ethan?”

“I think so.”

“What is he doing?”

“I have no idea.”

“This won’t take long,” Ethan continued. “If you could move closer to the stage. I need to make an announcement.”

Liz and Denise got out of line and walked toward the stage.

“For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Ethan Hendrix.”

“We know who you are,” a man in the crowd yelled.

Ethan chuckled nervously, shifting from foot to foot. “Good. I need your help with something, and you’re going to have to keep it a secret.”

Several people laughed.

“You really think that’s going to happen?” a woman asked.

“I hope so. Here’s the thing. Someone really important to me is moving back to Fool’s Gold. Her name is Liz Sutton. A few of you know her.”

“She’s that writer.”

“That’s her,” Ethan confirmed.

Liz glanced at Denise who looked confused.

“Don’t ask me,” the other woman said. “I have no idea what he’s up to.”

Ethan was going to talk about her to the whole town? Why? What on earth was he going to say?

She walked a little faster toward the stage.

“Liz grew up here, like me. Unlike most of us, she didn’t have an easy time of it. Her mother was indifferent at best and abusive at worst. Some of you might remember her. She had a reputation for being a drunk and…” He hesitated.

The crowd went quiet.

“In high school, Liz was smart and beautiful and sweet. But almost no one bothered to notice. Instead the other kids said terrible things about her. Things that weren’t true.”

Liz didn’t know if she should walk faster or disappear into the crowd. Humiliation burned her cheeks.

“It was all a lie,” Ethan continued. “I know, because I was her first boyfriend. Her first kiss. Her first.”

“We know about the kid, Ethan,” someone called.

“Right. But what you don’t know is that I made a promise to Liz back then. I told her that I loved her. I said we’d go off to college together. And then when my friend asked me if I was dating Liz, I lied and said she wasn’t anyone I would spend time with. I denied I even knew her and I did it in front of all my friends and in front of Liz.”

There was an audible gasp.

Liz wove through the ever-growing crowd. She could see the stage more clearly now, could see Ethan. He stood alone, facing the town.

“I betrayed her and broke her heart,” he said quietly. “I denied her and I denied myself. Because I did love her. But I was young and stupid and more worried about what my friends thought than her. I didn’t deserve her.”

“You can say that again,” someone urged.

Liz reached the side of the stage, where the steps were. But now that she was there, she didn’t know what she was supposed to do. Stop him? Listen? This was the most surreal moment of her life.

“Liz took off. Who can blame her? About three weeks later, she found out she was pregnant. She came back to tell me and I was, ah, otherwise occupied.”

“What does that mean?” someone asked.

“He was in bed with someone else,” a guy in the back hollered.

Several people laughed. A few groaned.

“Not smart,” a woman said.

“Tell me about it,” Ethan agreed. “Flash forward six years. Liz came back again to tell me about my son. This time, she was determined I would know. But someone got in the way and kept the information from me.”

He drew in a breath. “The reason I’m telling you all this is that Liz is staying in town. She’s moving here so I can be with my son and her nieces can live in a familiar place. She’s a helluva woman.”

“Hey. We’ve got kids here.”

“Oh, sorry.” Ethan looked chagrined. “She’s amazing. So for those of you who want to say something bad about her, you’re going to answer to me. No more stopping her on the street or in a store and saying she was wrong to keep Tyler from me. No more making her feel bad. Liz deserves better and we’re all going to give it to her. Understand?”

There were several murmurs of agreement.

Liz felt as if she were taking part in a play. Or watching a movie. This couldn’t be happening.

“If she’s all that and you’re obviously in love with her, why aren’t you marrying her?”

The question came from down in front. Liz stiffened, not sure she wanted to hear the answer.

Ethan sighed. “Hi, Mom.”

The crowd laughed.

“Answer the question,” Denise insisted.

Liz held her breath.

“I want to. Liz is my world. But I’ve been an idiot one too many times. I asked her to marry me because it was the right thing to do.”

“You really are stupid,” a woman commented.

Everyone laughed.

“Did you tell her that you’re sorry?” a boy offered.

Liz turned toward the speaker and saw Tyler standing next to Denise. Abby and Melissa were nearby, all looking at Ethan, all hopeful.

“She likes it when you apologize after you’ve done something wrong. And she always gives you a second chance,” Tyler informed.

“Not this time, buddy,” Ethan argued.

“But if you love her,” Melissa said, “you should tell her again. Tell her like you mean it.”

“Kiss her like they do in the movies,” Abby added.

“It’s not going to be enough. Liz deserves better than me.”

“Darlin’, if we only married who we deserved, then the world would be filled with single women,” an older woman said.

There was more laughter.

“I do love her,” Ethan told the crowd. “But sometimes love isn’t enough.”

Liz stared at the man who had always been in her heart and knew she’d been given the most precious gift of all. A second chance. Whatever doubts she’d had faded away in the face of Ethan humbling himself before everyone he knew—just to protect her and make her feel safe.

She felt his love, his caring, his support. The road they shared might not always be easy, but it was where they both belonged.

“Love is always enough,” Liz said.

He turned, looking stunned. “I thought you weren’t going to be here until noon. I thought the kids had come on their own.”

“The band goes on at noon. We got here a while ago.”

He dropped the microphone to his side. “How much did you hear?”

She climbed the stairs to the stage. “All of it.”

“I do love you, Liz. I mean that.”

“I believe you.”

“What’s he saying?” someone in the crowd asked.

A person up front shushed him. “We’ll tell you later,” the woman said.

Ethan set the microphone back in the stand and moved toward her. “I want us to get married. I want us to be a family. But only because I want to spend my life with you, making you happy. I want to be the man you deserve, but I’m going to need your help to get there.”

“You got that right,” she said with a smile.

“Is that a yes?” he asked.

She stepped into his embrace.

“Yes,” she whispered, right before his mouth pressed against hers.

“They’re kissing like in the movies,” Abby crowed. “I love it when that happens.”

Sister of the Bride

Susan Mallery

One

“Katie, honey, you need a date for your sister’s wedding.”

“I had a date, Mom. He’s marrying the bride.”

“All right, fine. Your sister stole your boyfriend,” Janis McCormick said with a sigh. “And it was wrong. But that was nearly a year ago. It’s water under the bridge. They’re getting married. The whole family is flying in and we have two hundred other guests. We’re going to have a long weekend of all kinds of events and, trust me, you’ll feel better if you have a date. The extended family will torture you if you don’t, and that will make us both crazy.” Her mother finally paused for a breath. “For me, Katie? Please?”

At times like this Katie really hated the whole concept of growing up and acting mature. There were situations where a good temper tantrum seemed like the exactly right solution to a problem. Like this one. But she’d never been into drama—that was her sister’s thing. And it was difficult to refuse her mother. Mostly because Janis didn’t ask for very much. She was one of those warm, loving parents who worried and slipped Katie an extra fifty dollars every time they had lunch, despite the fact that Katie had been on her own since college and had a great job that she adored.

“Mom,” she said, “I love you. You know that.”

“Don’t say ‘but.’ I’m on the edge as it is. Your sister is driving me nuts. I didn’t have to start coloring my hair until she got engaged. I swear, the second she brought over bride magazines and started talking tulle, I began going gray.”

Katie leaned forward in the booth of the restaurant. She and her mother were having a quick lunch to talk about the latest changes Courtney had made to her wedding. The fact that it was only two weeks away didn’t seem to worry Courtney.

Nor had stealing Katie’s boyfriend.

She wasn’t going to be bitter, Katie reminded herself. She was going to rise above petty emotion. Courtney was her sister and the sisterly bond was powerful and lasting. And if Courtney woke up with a zit the size of Cleveland on her wedding day, well, that would be fun, too.

Katie cleared her throat. “However, as much as I would love to bring a guy to the wedding festivities, there isn’t anyone. We’re talking Fool’s Gold. You know there aren’t a lot of single guys hanging around. I can’t come up with anyone I would trust to pretend to be involved with me.”

“Are you telling me you haven’t dated since you and Alex broke up?”

Technically, they hadn’t broken up. Katie had brought Alex home for one of their usual Sunday-night dinners with Katie’s parents. Something she and Alex had been doing regularly for months. The only thing that had been different about that night was the feeling Katie had that Alex was going to pop the question. Mostly because she’d accidentally found a receipt for a diamond ring in his coat pocket when he’d loaned it to her at a football game.

Katie hadn’t been sure Alex was the guy she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, but she’d figured being unsure was normal. After all, how could anyone know any particular guy was the one? Only, he hadn’t proposed. Their friendly dinner had been interrupted by Courtney’s unexpected arrival. Alex and Courtney had taken one look at each other and Katie had ceased to exist.

“Katie?” her mother asked. “You’re not seeing anyone?”

“No. I’ve been busy with work and not in the mood.”

Her mother sighed. “It’s four days of family and stress. I know I don’t want to have to field questions about your lack of love life and you have to want it even less. You have to bring a man.”

“Sorry, no.”

“What about Howie?”

Dear God, no.

Katie thought about banging her head against the table, because honestly, the pain would be less. “Mom, no.”

“Why not? He’s smart and rich and very funny.”

And his name was Howie. He was the son of her mother’s best friend. The two women had been doing their best to fix up their kids for years. Katie had resisted with all her might. The last time she’d seen Howie, he and his mom had been visiting Fool’s Gold. He’d been maybe sixteen and smart enough that he was already in college. Tall, skinny, with too-short pants, thick black-rimmed glasses and a way of peering at her as if she were an uninteresting form of bug. They’d had nothing to say to each other.

“Most of the time I’m willing to take one for the team. But I’m not interested in Howie,” she said firmly. “I’d rather deal with the awkward questions.” No one was desperate enough for Howie—certainly not her.

“Katie, don’t make me use my bad-mom voice.”

Katie smiled. “Mom, I’m twenty-seven. The bad-mom voice doesn’t work on me.”

“Want to bet?” Her mother sighed again. Worry darkened her eyes. “Please? I’ll beg. Do you want that? I’m desperate. I want you to have a good time.” She paused. “Well, as good a time as you can have at this. And I don’t want you to worry about what everyone else might be thinking. It’s four days. You’ll barely have to see each other.”

It was four days trapped in a hotel with her family at the top of a mountain. Where was she supposed to go to avoid them—and Howie?

“He’s doing some big project at work,” her mother added. “I’m sure he’ll be busy most of the time.”

Katie hesitated, not just because she adored her mother but also because the questions from family about why she wasn’t married had begun to border on brutal. There she was—the older sister—still not married, no prospect of a boyfriend. Courtney could barely go fifteen minutes without falling in love.

“Fine,” Katie conceded at last. “Just for the wedding, though. Nothing more. Ever.”

Her mother beamed. “Wonderful. I’ll let him know. This is going to be wonderful. You’ll see.”

Wonderful? Katie could think of a lot of words but that wasn’t one of them. She was already knee-deep in regrets. Four days with Howie? Fourteen years ago, they’d barely lasted an hour in each other’s presence.

The only bright spot in the whole thing was that back then he’d disliked her as much as she’d disliked him. Maybe he would do a better job at telling his mother no and then none of this would be an issue.

* * *

“Mother, I won’t,” Howard Jackson Kent said firmly.

“I see.”

Two simple words. They didn’t matter in and of themselves, it was the tone that was going to come back and bite him in the ass. He could already feel the teeth.

“We’ll ignore the fact that Janis McCormick is my best friend,” his mother said, staring at him from across his desk.

They were in his office, his mother having dropped by unexpectedly between his meetings. There was only one way she would have known he was free, which meant later he would be having a little chat with his personal assistant.

“We’ll ignore the fact that Janis has asked for my help.”

If only that were true, he thought, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his temple.

“You could do it for Katie,” his mother said. “She’s such a nice girl.”

Never words to make a single man’s heart beat faster, he thought grimly. “Katie and I don’t get along.”

Granted, it had been a lot of years ago, but he remembered that summer afternoon clearly. His mother had insisted he come along with her while Tina met with her best friend. He’d agreed and had regretted the decision the second Katie had looked at him, then sighed with obvious disappointment.

Katie had been opinionated, only interested in sports and obviously contemptuous of him. Sure, he’d been a nerd and awkward and he’d never communicated well with others. But she’d been difficult and unfriendly. She’d also threatened to beat him up. At the time, she probably could have.

“Things could be different now,” his mother said. “She’s lovely.”

“Uh-huh.”

His mother straightened in her chair. Tina Kent was small, but he knew better than to judge her by her size.

“Do you remember ten years ago when I had breast cancer?” she asked.

He held in a groan and nodded. Not this, he thought. Anything but this.

“You were in college. I didn’t want you to know how bad it was because I wanted you to focus on getting your masters.”

It was in that program he’d developed the software that had launched his company and turned him into a multimillionaire in three short years.

“Mom—” he began.

She held up a hand. “When you came home, you were worried. I promised you I would get better.” She paused expectantly.

“I said I would do anything if you would,” he said dutifully.

“I kept my promise. Now it’s time for you to keep yours. You’re going to be Katie’s date for the wedding. You’ll spend four days at the resort in Fool’s Gold, and you’ll do everything you can to make Katie feel like a princess.”

Dammit all to hell. Why couldn’t he be like some of his friends and never talk to his parents? Why did he and his mother have to get along? Except for this obsession with Katie McCormick, his mom was a great woman to have around. They’d always been able to talk and he respected her opinion. But right now he would give anything for a brief but meaningful estrangement.

“Mom,” he began, then shook his head. It was four days. Surely he could survive that. “Fine. You win.”

She smiled broadly. “Good. Janis was there for me every day when I was sick. I’m so happy to finally be able to repay her, at least a little.”

“You’re selling out your only son. What will the neighbors think?”

“That it’s about time you found yourself a woman.”

Two

Katie waited nervously at the entrance to the Gold Rush Ski Lodge and Resort. The name misled those who didn’t know the history of the place, or the luxury of the rooms.

The hotel nestled in the mountains above Fool’s Gold—a grand old place with an architectural style somewhere between Victorian and chalet. What should have looked awkward or busy was instead welcoming. The views were impressive, the restaurant five-star and the service unmatched. There were world-class boutiques in the lobby and a spa that tempted celebrities from all over the world. If this had been Katie’s wedding, she would have chosen to have the ceremony on the shore of the lake in town, with the reception in one of the local restaurants. But her sister had always wanted something grander and more expensive. So a four-day extravaganza at the Gold Rush Ski Lodge and Resort it was.

Katie had already checked in, as had the rest of her immediate family. Those traveling from out of town would be arriving any second and she had to find Howie before anyone else did. Getting their stories straight was essential. Otherwise, there was no point in having him stick around for the long weekend.

For a brief second, she weighed the idea of exposing the sham. She would be free of Howie, but reduced to spinster status. Yes, it was a new century. Yes, women could do anything. Yet in the world of the McCormicks, being single and within three years of thirty was both a disaster and a source of shame.

“But you’re a sports writer,” her aunt Tully would say yet again. “Can’t you catch a rich husband from all those sports you watch?”

If only it were that simple. The problem was while she loved sports—the competition, the quest for greatness, the odd quirks that made every game interesting—she was less thrilled by athletes. Maybe because she’d seen them at their worst—one of the perks of her job. It was sort of like working in the kitchen of a restaurant. Dining out would never be the same again.

A tall, dark-haired man entered the lobby. He was good-looking enough to turn heads, with a body to match. Broad shoulders and long legs, all dressed neatly in a soft-looking blue-striped shirt tucked into jeans. If only, she thought regretfully, looking past the hunky guy and hoping to see the bumbling nerd who was on the verge of being late.

He was into computers. Maybe she should have sent Howie an e-mail reminder.

“Katie?”

The tall, dark stranger stopped next to her. She stared at his firm mouth, his strong jaw and the gorgeous green eyes barely concealed behind steel-rimmed glasses.

Her mouth opened. She felt it, then had to consciously close it. No way. Not possible. On what planet could this be happening?

“H-Howie?”

The man smiled. It was one of those sexy, self-deprecating smiles that made every woman in the room want to purr.

“Jackson,” he corrected. “I go by Jackson now. My middle name.”

Or eye candy. That name would work, too, she thought, her brain stuttering as she attempted to take in the changes. He was taller, more muscular, even his hair was perfect.

“H-Howie?” she repeated.

The smile turned into a low chuckle. “I’m not that different.”

Au contraire.

“You’ve, ah, grown up,” she managed, hoping she didn’t look as stupid as she felt.

“So have you.”

She wrinkled her nose. Up wasn’t exactly the right word. She was about the same height she’d been at thirteen—a very average five foot five. The difference was she’d lost about forty pounds since then. And figured out how to play up her equally average features. She wasn’t complaining—not exactly. But in a family of very tall, thin, attractive people, she was a throwback to the short, curvy lineage that everyone thought had been bred out.

“Yes, well, I’ve at least lost the baby fat,” she said, figuring there was no point in ignoring the obvious.

Jackson studied her. “Your eyes are the same. Pretty. I remember the color.”

“Because I was glaring at you?” she asked.

“Uh-huh. I was terrified you were going to beat me up.”

“You treated me like I was an idiot.”

“I was overcompensating for feeling like I didn’t belong.” He shrugged. “Don’t take it personally. I acted that way everywhere.”

“One of the downsides of being the smartest guy in the room?”

“You held your own.”

She laughed. “I was reduced to threatening physical violence. Not exactly the definition of holding my own.”

“You did fine. Now I hear you’re a famous sports writer.”

If Katie had been drinking, she would have choked. “Not exactly. Is that what your mom told you?”

He nodded.

“I work for the local paper. The Fool’s Gold Daily Republic. I write the sports page, the occasional op-ed and I’ve done an emergency feature story when they were desperate. No one’s definition of fame.”

“You like what you do. I can hear it in your voice.”

“I do like it.” She found herself staring into his green eyes and wishing she’d listened to her mother sooner. Howie…ah, Jackson…was all that and more. “I’ve heard you’re some kind of impressive computer guy.”

She winced, thinking maybe she should have done a little homework. “You created a program about, um, something business-y.”

The slow, sexy smile returned. “Inventory control. Trust me, you don’t want to know the details.”

“Probably not, but it’s good someone keeps track of all that inventory stuff. It’s wily.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Wily?”

“I studied sports communications, not business. Wily is the best I could come up with, under the circumstances. Give me a deadline and I can be much more impressive.”

“Maybe I’m already impressed.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the words or the way he said them, but for the first time in a long time, she felt positively girly. If her hair had been a couple of inches longer, she would have been tempted to flip it. As it was, she was grateful her mother had made her wear a sundress instead of jeans and a T-shirt, and that she’d taken the time to brush on mascara and lip gloss.

“You’re not what I was expecting,” he continued.

“I know,” she admitted, trying not to flutter her lashes, although the need was powerful. “When my mother suggested you as my emergency date, I wasn’t exactly grateful. But I do appreciate you showing up and taking time to help with this.”

“Not a problem.”

“You say that now, but you have no idea what you’re in for.” She smiled. “Maybe I should confiscate your car keys before I say any more. So you can’t run screaming into the night.”

“That bad?”

“Let’s just put it this way, my sister is only happy when there’s drama surrounding her and I have an aunt who has a habit of seducing other women’s boyfriends and husbands. As I’m sure your mother told you, the groom is my ex-boyfriend. And that’s just for starters.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“You have no idea. Want to make a run for it?”

“I can handle it. Do you doubt me?”

Not when he looked at her as if she were something delicious to eat. Which he couldn’t possibly be, so it had to be a trick of light. Maybe a problem with his glasses.

“We should, ah, check you into the hotel,” she said. “Have you been to Fool’s Gold much in the past few years?”

“Not since our last meeting.”

“But you grew up in Sacramento,” she said. “It’s so close.”

“I went the other way after college. Toward the coast.” He glanced around at the lobby. “The resort has a reputation for good skiing in winter.”

“You ski?”

“Some. I like it more than I’m good at it.”

“Me, too,” she said. “It’s easier than snowboarding, at least for me. I love trying different sports, but so far I haven’t found one I’m very good at.”

She led the way toward the front desk. “There are several excellent runs here during the winter. This time of year, the draw is more hiking and camping. The hotel keeps busy with things like weddings and various theme weekends. They fly in five-star chefs or art experts. That sort of thing. Then people come in from all over to hear lectures or go to demonstrations.”

“You work in travel in your spare time?”

Katie laughed. “I live in town. It’s not hard to keep track of what’s going on.”

“You grew up here and never wanted to leave?”

She tilted her head, considering. “Not really. I went to Ashland College and while I loved it, I couldn’t wait to get back. Fool’s Gold is home for me.”

* * *

Katie spoke with certainty, as if her belief was unshakeable. Jackson had been comfortable growing up in Sacramento, and later at MIT. He’d lived on the East Coast for a while, but when he’d been ready to start his software company, he’d gravitated west. There was something about California.

Now he lived in Los Angeles and while he liked the city, he couldn’t say it was home with Katie’s obvious passion.

She was nothing he’d expected. There was an energy about her, as if she enjoyed everything she did. Her blue eyes sparkled with intelligence and humor. She was curvy to the point of being a walking, breathing temptation just by standing in the room. There was something about the way she moved—purposeful, with a subtle sexiness that made parts of him grumble hungrily.

At thirteen, she’d terrified him. Fourteen years later, she tempted him, not that he would do anything about it. The daughter of his mother’s best friend was completely off-limits. Not only would both mothers want to monitor any potential relationship, he could only imagine what his mother would say if she suspected he was about to break the heart of her best friend’s daughter.

Too bad, he thought with more than a little regret.

“The family is in a block of rooms,” Katie was saying as they approached the front desk. “However, I made sure you weren’t close to them. We don’t want Aunt Tully sneaking into your room at night.” Her smile turned impish. “You’re still young enough that the thrill of Aunt Tully might do lasting damage.”

“I don’t know if I’m looking forward to meeting her or ready to bolt.”

“I’ll protect you.”

He checked in quickly and was handed an old-fashioned key.

“You’re through here,” Katie said, pointing to the elevators on the far wall. “Brace yourself because it all starts tonight. There’s a party.” She paused and gazed up at him.

“Parties are fine.”

“A fifties-style theme party. A costume has already been delivered to your room.”

A costume party? He could see his mother had left out more than a few details. “Sounds great,” he lied.

She laughed and touched his arm. “Don’t worry. It’s only a short-sleeved white T-shirt for the guys. Jeans are fine and if you have loafers, all the better.”

“With white socks?”

“That would complete the look.”

Her fingers were warm against his skin. He liked that she was a toucher. It made him want to touch back—to take control of the situation.

His gaze dropped to her mouth and lingered there. Her lips were as curvy and full as the rest of her. Katie defined lushness.

“I’m stuck wearing a poodle skirt,” she continued. “With a twinset, if you can believe it.”

An interesting image, he thought, still looking at her mouth. He’d never been turned on by anything retro before, but he had a feeling Katie would make a believer out of him.

“We should probably get our stories straight,” she said, her voice slightly strained.

Reluctantly he raised his gaze to her eyes. Her pupils were slightly dilated and she seemed to be a little breathless.

“About how we met,” she added.

“We could stick with the truth. Our mothers set us up.”

“Um, right. That’s good.” She cleared her throat. “Say six months ago?”

“Works for me. We’ve been together ever since.” He grinned. “I was a little surprised when you offered to sleep with me on the first date, but being a gentleman, I didn’t refuse the invitation.”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed as she drew her brows together. “Excuse me? You’re the one who was completely crazy about me within five minutes of us meeting. You practically stalked me. I only went out with you because I felt guilty about turning your life upside down.”

He chuckled. “Or we could settle in the middle. Mutual attraction and a growing interest.”

“Fine. But I really like the idea of you being desperate.”

She had no idea how little it would take to get him to that state, he thought, wanting to touch her skin again to see if all of it was as soft as her hands had felt before.

They walked toward the elevators. Before they got there, an attractive fiftysomething woman hurried up to them. Jackson recognized his mother’s best friend.

“Hello, Janis,” he said. “Good to see you again.”

“Howie,” she said absently.

He did his best not to wince at the name. His mother had refused to call him anything else, so it made sense her best friend wouldn’t know about the change to something less pathetic than “Howie.”

“We have a crisis,” Janis told her daughter.

“Only one? I was sure there would be more.”

“Don’t tempt fate. It’s plenty early.” Janis drew in a breath. “It’s the cake. Actually it’s the cake decorator. Apparently the decorations are made in advance and then there’s a cake and they come together and it’s beautiful. I’m not sure of the details.”

“Okay. So what’s the problem?”

“The decorator was in a car accident. She’s going to be fine…in eight weeks after her broken arm heals. I don’t mean to sound unsympathetic, but did that have to happen today? The cake was in the car. So we have decorations. They were delivered yesterday, but no cake.”

Janis clutched Katie’s arm. “I can’t do this. Your sister is hysterical, your father is hiding because he sees the panic on my face. Your relatives are arriving and Aunt Tully has already made a pass at the bellboy. You have to help me.”

“Why are they my relatives?” Katie asked. “My sister. My father. You’re related to them, too.”

“You’re not helping,” Janis said, her voice getting more shrill with each word.

“Sorry. We’ll find another cake decorator.”

“How? It’s prime wedding season. They’re all busy. This is a sign. This wedding is going to be a disaster, I can feel it.”

“Mom, calm down.”

“I can’t.”

Jackson pulled out his cell phone. “Maybe I can help. I have a friend who runs a catering business. She used to decorate cakes. I’m sure I could persuade her to help out.”

Janis turned to him. “Don’t play with my emotions, Howie. I’m right on the edge.”

“I’ll call her right now.”

He scrolled through his list of contacts until he found Ariel’s cell. Seconds later she answered.

He greeted her and explained the problem.

“This isn’t your wedding, is it?” she asked warily.

“No. A friend’s. I’m here for the weekend, then heading home.”

She hesitated. “Normally I wouldn’t have time, but I had an unexpected cancellation. I’ll be there in the morning. I’ll need access to the kitchen to get the cake made.” She named a price that made him wince, but Janis simply nodded.

“Great,” she said. “I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

“Thanks. See you soon.”

When he hung up, Janis hugged him. “You’ve saved us all.”

“It’s a cake, not a rescue from a burning building.”

“Close enough.” She put a hand on her chest. “I can breathe again, at least until the next crisis. Now go to your rooms and get ready for the party. I’m off to get drunk.”

She walked toward the bar. He pressed the up button on the elevator, then glanced at Katie.

She raised her eyebrows. “So…Ariel’s an ex.”

“How did you know?”

“The average guy doesn’t have a former cake decorator on speed dial.”

“She’s on my contact list. That’s different.”

“Close enough.”

The doors opened and they stepped inside. Katie pushed the button for the fourth floor.

“Bad breakup?” she asked.

“Actually an easy one. She left me. I thought I’d be brokenhearted and I wasn’t.” He’d gotten over her fast enough to make him realize that they’d be better off as friends.

“I guess that beats pining for months.”

He looked at her. “Are you the type to pine?”

“I’ve had a sulk or two in my life, but not an actual full-on pine.”

The elevator stopped and they stepped out. Katie led the way to his room.

“I’m across the hall,” she said.

He moved his gaze from the door to her. “Can I trust you?” he asked.

She smiled. “If you’d been this fun fourteen years ago, I wouldn’t have threatened to beat you up.”

“If I’d been like this fourteen years ago, I would have wanted you to try.”

They stared at each other. Katie blinked first, then glanced at her watch.

“The craziness starts in an hour,” she said. “Brace yourself.”

“I don’t scare that easily. Besides, I’ll have you to protect me.”

“Just pray Aunt Tully doesn’t take a liking to you.”

“I can handle Aunt Tully.”

“You say that now,” Katie called over her shoulder as she left.

Three

There was something oddly fun about wearing a poodle skirt, Katie thought as she looked at herself in the mirror. Sure, the poofy style did nothing to make her legs look longer—always a challenge for someone from a long-legged family—but the layers of petticoats also made her waist look tiny. She twirled a couple of times for effect, then smoothed her skirts.

She’d pulled her shoulder-length hair back into a ponytail, tied it with a chiffon scarf, fluffed her bangs and added a string of fake pearls to complete the costume.

A knock on the door sent her hurrying across the hotel room.

She pulled it open and nearly swooned at the sight of Jackson in a very fitted white T-shirt and jeans. He’d slicked back his hair and rolled up the sleeves of the T-shirt. He looked both sexy and dangerous—a very tempting combination.

“West Side Story is one of my mom’s favorite movies,” she said with a laugh. “You’re the perfect Jet.”

He looked her over slowly enough for her toes to curl in her thrift-store oxfords. “Very nice. Like the skirt.”

She twirled. “I’ve never worn a petticoat before.”

“You look…”

“Wholesome?” she offered. “Virginal?”

“Like the kind of girl you give a class ring to.”

His words gave her a little jolt in her belly. She did her best to hide her reaction. “That’s me.”

She slipped her lip gloss and her room key into her pocket and motioned for him to lead the way out.

As they waited for the elevator, he leaned against the wall and watched her.

“Touching?” he asked. “No touching? How do we show the world, or at least your family, that we’re a couple?”

Sex, she thought unexpectedly. They could have sex. That would certainly do it for her. “Um, some touching. Courtney and Alex are all over each other, but at some point that just gets tacky.”

“Agreed.”

There was something about the way he was looking at her. As if trying to figure something out. His steady gaze made her nervous. She glanced at the floor, then forced herself to look at him. Was it just her or did it seem like the elevator was taking forever?

The seconds ticked past. Jackson straightened, moved toward her, cupped her face in his hands, then leaned in and brushed his mouth against hers.

The brief contact was soft, hungry and unexpected. Heat exploded inside her, making her strain toward him. He stepped back long before she was ready for him to, but kept his large hands on her skin, his thumbs caressing her cheeks.

“For practice,” he said, his eyes bright with amusement and something she could only pray was interest. “So we get it right, if anyone asks.”

She didn’t think there would be a required kissing demonstration, but it was good to be prepared.

Just as she was about to suggest another practice session, the elevator doors opened. Unfortunately, Aunt Tully was the only occupant.

“Katie!” the older woman exclaimed happily and threw herself out of the elevator. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” Tully shifted her attention to Jackson and raised her eyebrows. “Hello, gorgeous. Katie is very fond of me and likes to share.”

Jackson immediately dropped his hands to his sides and took a step back. If the situation hadn’t been potentially hazardous in more ways than Katie could count, she would have found it funny. Sort of.

Tully was her father’s sister. A round, short, blond dynamo who dressed like she was twenty…or maybe sixteen. Except for the jewelry. It was all flash and proof that she’d married well. Several times. Tully was currently looking for husband number six.

Married or not, Tully loved men. All men—even those who were married or involved with other women. She was the life of the party, a charming drunk and completely lacking in boundaries. Katie both loved and feared her.

Jackson seemed to recover. He held out his hand. “You must be Aunt Tully. Nice to meet you.”

“Come now,” Tully said, holding out her arms. “We’re family. We need to do more than shake hands.”

He moved in warily and leaned toward her, as if to give her a nonromantic A-frame hug. It was like one of those twisted reality shows on TV. As much as Katie wanted to look away, she couldn’t.

Tully waited until Jackson was close and slightly off balance, then grabbed him and pulled hard. He crashed into her ample chest, tried to right himself, and found the natural place his hands needed for leverage was her breasts. Obviously determined not to touch them, he flailed for a few seconds before managing to step away. But not before Tully planted a kiss on his mouth.

Tully smiled with satisfaction. “Any good?” she asked Katie.

Katie moved toward the slightly stunned Jackson and slipped her arm through his. “He’s mine. You can’t have him.”

Tully pouted, her blue eyes thoughtful. “Are you sure? I’ll buy you a car. The new Lexus hybrid.”

“Thanks, but no.”

“Cash?”

Jackson cleared his throat. “Ms. McCormick, while I’m flattered by—”

Tully dismissed him with a wave. “You don’t get to negotiate. Katie?”

“Sorry. No.”

“Fine. I’ll have to see who else is available. Does the groom have a brother?”

“No,” Katie said, proud of herself for not suggesting Alex instead. While there would be karmic justice in having the man Courtney had stolen taken from her, it would create too much trouble for everyone else. Besides, there was a slight possibility that Courtney really did love Alex.

The elevator returned to their floor. Tully got on it.

“We’ll take the next one,” Katie said, thinking Jackson would need a moment.

“See you at the party.”

The door closed.

Jackson leaned against the wall. “That was Aunt Tully.”

“I tried to warn you.”

“She wanted to buy me.”

“I know.”

“For cash.”

“She likes men.”

“She’s old enough to be my mother.”

“Technically she might be old enough to be your very young grandmother, but try not to think about it.”

He shook his head and straightened. “Now I know why you needed a date for the wedding.”

“My family isn’t all bad. My parents are great. Courtney is very pretty.” Katie wanted to add that it would be nice if Jackson didn’t fall for her sister, but what was the point? He either would or wouldn’t.

“Tully’s the worst of it, right?” he asked.

Katie laughed. “Yes. I promise. The rest of my family will only ask pointed questions. Things like how long have we been going out and what are your intentions.”

“They want you married, huh?”

“It’s an ongoing goal. You’d think having a great career and lots of friends would be enough, but it’s not. You, being a man, don’t get the same kind of pressure.”

“My mother makes not-so-subtle statements about wanting grandchildren, but I ignore her.”

If only she could do the same, she thought. She tried, but every now and then, the volume got to her.

She pushed the down button to call the elevator. “Which begs the question—why aren’t you married? Or are you one of those men who doesn’t want to be tied down?”

“I like the idea of a wife and family,” he said, moving next to her. “When I was younger, I couldn’t get the girl.”

She glanced at his broad shoulders, the sexy green eyes and the shape of his mouth. “At the risk of feeding your ego, I don’t think that’s a problem anymore.”

“No. Now the problem is finding the right girl.”

“What are you looking for?”

His gaze settled on her. There was something knowing in his expression. As if he thought maybe—

The elevator doors opened.

“Katie, darling. There you are.” Katie’s mother swayed slightly on her feet.

Katie got on the elevator and turned to her dad. “She’s drunk.”

“You think?” Her father held out his hand to Jackson. “Mike McCormick.”

“Jackson Kent. I’m Tina’s son.”

“Of course.” He kept his arm around his wife. “Your mother had two martinis.”

Katie winced. “One usually puts her on her butt. While she’s a charming drunk, I doubt this is the time or the place.”

Janis patted her husband’s cheek. “Don’t be mad. You know you like me drunk. It’s when you get lucky.”

“Mo-om!” Katie covered her ears. “Please, stop. I don’t want to hear this.”

Janis smiled at her daughter. “You should be happy your parents are still having sex. It means we have a good marriage. You don’t want us getting a divorce, do you?”

“Should I hum loudly?” Jackson asked with a grin.

“You think this is funny?” she snapped. “Want to talk about your parents doing it?” Katie faced her mother, while trying to avoid looking at her father. “This is Courtney’s wedding. You have to focus.”

“I will. I’m just saying, the sex really does get better as one gets older. Back in the day, we always had to worry about you and your sister interrupting us. All those afternoon showers, when we were just trying to get in a quickie. But did you cooperate? Of course not. It was always Mom this and Mom that. You startled me so much once, I nearly bit off your father’s—”

The doors opened and Katie bolted out onto the lower level, where the party would be held. She walked fast, as if she could outrun the hideous image in her head.

“Kittens and puppies and ice cream,” she murmured as she moved. “London. I’ll think about London.” She came to a stop and covered her face.

Then strong arms were around her, pulling her close. The supportive gesture was mitigated by the shaking chest as Jackson laughed.

“If it makes you feel any better,” he said, “your father is mortified.”

“It doesn’t. How could she say that stuff?”

“There was alcohol involved.”

“Still.” She shuddered, her face still pressed into his shoulder. “It’s gross. Not the happy-marriage part. I want them to be happy, not just for me but for them, too. But parental sex shouldn’t be discussed in front of children.”

“You need a distraction.”

“Or some kind of mind meld.”

“Katie?”

Instinctively she looked up. As soon as she did, he kissed her.

His warm, teasing mouth claimed hers. Skin against skin, the sensual movement making her blissfully incapable of doing much more than feel.

He held her firmly, carefully, but with a confidence that made her willing to surrender. One hand was below the other on her back, angled so his fingertips lightly grazed the curve of her rear. Even through the layers of skirt and petticoat, she felt the heat of him, the pressure.

He touched her lower lip with his tongue and she parted. He swept inside, claiming her with his mouth. She angled her head to deepen the kiss, wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself up to the moment.

Wanting swept through her. Need and hunger. It had been a long time since she’d been swept away. Too long. She’d forgotten how good it felt to be held. To have the solid strength of a man’s body right against hers.

In the distance, she heard the sound of conversation but ignored it. Nothing mattered but kissing Jackson. As far as she was concerned, she could do this forever.

Apparently he didn’t read minds as well as he kissed because after a few minutes, he drew back.

“Better?” he asked.

She blinked at the question. “You did that to distract me?”

“Partly.”

Great. So she’d been having an out-of-body, take-me-now experience and he’d been doing the sexual equivalent of patting her on the head.

His mouth curved into a sexy, promising smile. “I also did it because I wanted to.”

Four

The next morning Katie forced herself out of bed long before she was ready to leave, pulled on her workout clothes and made her sleepy way down to the hotel gym. She’d barely brushed her teeth, hadn’t done a thing with her hair and was pleased she’d remembered to bring a bottle of water. She was also expecting to find the room empty, except for a rabid business person or two.

Instead she found Jackson already sweating on one of the two elliptical machines.

He looked good in sweat, she thought as she stared at him. Tall and lean, but with enough muscle to make life interesting. He had on a headset and was watching the early-morning national news. So far he hadn’t noticed her.

After her mother’s sexual confessions and the mind-numbing kiss, the rest of the evening had been calm by comparison. Aunt Tully had kept her distance from Jackson, although she continued to eye him with interest. No one had gotten too drunk. But the weekend was young, Katie thought as she made her way to the second elliptical.

Not working out wasn’t an option. Not with her weight history and gene pool. If she didn’t watch what she ate and exercise regularly, she porked right up. Sad, but true. If she had to face Jackson while looking like a cross between a “before” picture and cat gack, so be it.

She got on the machine and studied the console. She used one just like it at the gym, so she knew what she was in for. After punching in her favorite program and only lying about her weight by seven pounds, she hit the start button and braced herself for pain.

Next to her, Jackson removed his headset. “Morning,” he said with a smile.

The man hadn’t showered pre-exercise, either. Had done nothing with his hair, hadn’t bothered shaving. So why did he get to look like a model advertising naughty sex first thing in the morning?

“Hi.”

“You’re up early.”

“It’s necessary to keep my BMI in the two-digit range.”

Jackson looked her up and down before shaking his head. “No way. You look great.”

She flushed with pleasure. As she was already red-faced from exercise, she had the comfort of knowing he wouldn’t notice. “Thanks, but it’s true. You saw me at my chunky best. I’m one uncontrolled corn dog away from that happening again.”

* * *

What Jackson remembered most about Katie as a teenager was how pretty she’d been, even when she’d threatened to beat him up. He hadn’t wanted to waste his afternoon with a kid, but the second he’d seen her, he’d been…intrigued. As much as a repressed, nerdish sixteen-year-old boy could be.

He wasn’t repressed anymore, he thought, doing his best not to stare at her breasts bouncing along in time with her movements. Not only didn’t he want to get caught looking, his workout shorts wouldn’t hide the inevitable reaction to his interest and wouldn’t that make for an awkward moment.

“You worry too much,” he told her.

“You weren’t ever fat,” she told him, her blue eyes bright with amusement. “But it’s okay. I’ve been exercising regularly for nearly twelve years and I’m to the point where I almost like it.”

He chuckled. “Is that the goal? To enjoy it?”

“Everyone deserves a fantasy life.”

“Is that when you got interested in sports? You were exercising?”

She reached for her water bottle and took a long drink. “No. I’ve always loved sports. I think it’s my dad’s influence. My mom says instead of reading me fairy stories at night, he would read the sports page. I grew up interested in football and baseball.”

“Do you play any?”

She shook her head. “I wish. I’ve tried them all. The best I can say for myself is I wasn’t hideously bad at soccer. I wasn’t close to good, but that’s okay. I’m just not coordinated. Or fast. Or athletic. You met Aunt Tully. Physically, I take after her. So it’s that old saying—those who can do. Those who can’t write about it. I went to Ashland College to learn how.”

“Where you studied sports communications.”

Something flashed in her blue eyes. “You remembered.”

He’d remembered nearly everything she’d said, he thought. She was the kind of woman a man would have trouble forgetting.

“You’re my first sports communications major,” he said lightly. “A guy remembers his first time.”

She laughed. “You’re good. Seriously. Have you been back to your high school reunion?”

He shuddered. “No, thanks. I’d rather face the fires of hell.”

“You should think about it. You’re the guy who will cause quite the reaction. All those girls who blew you off will be all over you.”

“Maybe I don’t want them all over me.”

“You’re not into revenge?”

“No. I don’t need their approval to enjoy my life.” He studied her. “Are you into revenge? If you are, this is the weekend for it.”

She wiped her face with a towel. Even sweaty and hot, she looked good, he thought. Her hair stood in spikes, her breasts continued to bounce. This was his idea of a great morning.

“To quote you from a second ago, no, thanks. I’m not interested in Alex. He had his chance with me and he blew it.”

“The man’s an idiot.”

Katie smiled. He felt the heat of if all the way down to his groin.

“You say the nicest things,” she told him. “Courtney can be a pain. But you have to understand the context. She was sick when she was a kid. Cancer. Everyone spoiled her and when she got better, we all kept treating her like she could die any second. She got used to the attention, and then she grew up gorgeous and guys kept falling for her. She’ll grow up someday, and when she does, she’ll be a good person. For what it’s worth, I think Alex really does love her. This is their weekend. I want everything to go well for them.”

Although his workout was over, he kept going until she was done. They walked out of the gym together and headed for the stairs. On the main floor, he was about to ask her to breakfast, when someone touched his arm.

“Jackson? Hi.”

He turned and saw Ariel standing in the lobby. She was still tall and beautiful, with golden-red hair and eyes the color of spring grass. Pretty enough, but not anyone he’d missed after she’d left.

“Ariel,” he said, then shifted his attention to Katie. “Katie, this is Ariel, cake decorator extraordinaire.”

Katie glanced between them, then gave a smile that didn’t seem happy. “Great. We’re thrilled you’re here. Have you had a chance to see the kitchen yet? We spoke to the staff and they’ve set up a work area for you. The pastry chef made the cakes last night, so they should be cooled and ready for you to work on. We all really appreciate you helping us out.”

Ariel focused on him instead of Katie. “No problem. This gives me a chance to take care of a few things myself.” She gazed into his eyes for another second, as if willing him to understand something, then looked at Katie. “I haven’t been to the kitchen.”

“Why don’t you two take care of that now,” he said, wondering why Ariel was acting strange. Was she pissed because he’d called her about the job? If she hadn’t wanted it, she could have refused.

“Sure,” Katie said. “The kitchen is right this way.”

* * *

Ariel was one of those women who entranced men and intimidated women without breaking a sweat. Katie, on the other hand, had been sweating for the past forty minutes. She was not at her best as she showed the tall, gorgeous redhead back to the kitchen. Fortunately, Katie didn’t seem to register on Ariel’s radar, so she hadn’t appeared the least bit critical.

Katie showed the other woman the freshly baked cake, the decorations and introduced her to Andre, who was their “kitchen liaison.” Then she headed for the coffee station in the lobby.

After taking her first sip, she closed her eyes and inhaled the aroma. It wasn’t that she needed the caffeine to feel awake—it was that the ritual would ground her in a world where goddesslike women weren’t ex-girlfriends and former nerds like Jackson didn’t make her heart beat faster with just a kiss…or a smile.

Just when she’d been thinking about possibilities, she thought grimly. She’d been so sure they’d had great chemistry, that he really liked her. That he’d been interested. Maybe he had been, but there was no way she could compete with someone like Ariel. Not that it was a competition, but still. Couldn’t Jackson have dated someone slightly more…ordinary?

She refilled her cup and headed for the elevators. When they opened, her sister, Courtney, stepped out. It might be early, but Courtney was charmingly dressed in a flirty little skirt and formfitting top. Her long hair gleamed, her makeup was perfect.

“Katie.” Courtney looked and sounded shocked. “What happened to you?”

“I worked out.”

“You look awful.” Her gaze narrowed. “Are you sure you’re okay? Your face is really red.”

“That’s what happens when I exercise,” Katie said cheerfully, trying to maneuver around her, only to have the elevator doors close. Sighing, she pushed the up button again.

“I know you have to work out because of your weight, but you really shouldn’t be out like this in public. Alex always said—” Courtney paused and smiled tightly. “Did you sleep well?”

Katie could have pushed and discovered what Alex always said. That she wasn’t at her best in the morning? That she didn’t wake up looking radiant and tall? Then she decided it didn’t matter.

“Fine,” she said. “And you?”

Instead of answering the question, her sister put a hand on her arm. “I know this is hard for you.”

Sleeping? Not so much. Most nights it was amazingly easy. “What is hard for me?”

“Seeing me with Alex.”

“I’ve had nearly a year to get used to it.”

“I know, but this is different. We’re getting married. I know you thought you’d marry him.”

“Not anymore,” Katie assured her, silently begging the elevator to return and rescue her. “I’m fine.”

“Mom had to buy you a date.”

Katie sucked in a breath. “Jackson isn’t an escort. No one paid for him.” At least she didn’t think so. “He’s a friend of the family.” Sort of.

“Still.” Courtney looked both sympathetic and pitying. It wasn’t a combination designed to make Katie feel better. “It’s just so sad that more guys don’t see beyond appearances. I couldn’t stand it. You must be lonely.”

Kill me now, Katie thought. Or maybe just Courtney. Before she could make a decision, the elevator arrived and she practically threw herself into it.

As the doors closed, Katie promised herself she was having wine with lunch.

Five

Katie fluffed her curls and sprayed them for the third time since using the curling iron. As long as she avoided open flames, she would be fine.

Tonight’s dinner was to officially welcome the rest of the family members who had arrived that day and to serve as a celebration for the happy couple. The event was somewhat formal, so she’d chosen a cocktail dress that fit her perfectly. She’d paid extra for tailoring, but it had been worth it, she thought as she put down the hair spray and turned so she could see herself from the back. In the right light, and wearing her three-inch heels, she could almost pass for tall. Given how her day had begun, she deserved a little sass in her evening.

Although to be honest, after a hideous start, her day had gone reasonably well. She’d spent the morning welcoming the rest of the family members as they’d arrived. Jackson had been a friendly and handsome escort for lunch. They’d been seated at a table that didn’t include Courtney and the willowy Ariel hadn’t been seen. Katie was willing to call that a win.

She left the bathroom and walked toward her purse. As she reached it, someone knocked on the door.

Jackson, she thought, her heart beating a little faster than it should. Right on time.

Sure enough, her date for the weekend stood in the doorway, looking handsome and sexy in a dark suit, white shirt and gray tie.

“Is this formal enough?” he asked. “I brought a tux.”

“You look great,” she said honestly, thinking it didn’t get much better than a good-looking man who was prompt and owned his own tux. “I’m going to have to provide a physical barrier between you and Aunt Tully.”

“I’d appreciate that. Although I noticed at lunch she seemed more interested in the groom’s father.”

“Well, wouldn’t that cause some fireworks.” Katie made a mental note to pass on the info to her mother. Not that she’d forgiven the other woman for the sexual outburst in the elevator. Knowing about parental sex was one thing, but having to hear about the details was just plain wrong.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

She checked that her room key was in her small beaded evening bag, then pulled the door shut. “I’m fine. Counting down the days until it’s all over. What about you?”

“It’s not my family,” he pointed out. “Although I have decided that when I get married, I want a simple ceremony. And everything done in a day.”

“I agree. This is like a special kind of hell—it never ends.”

As the party had grown larger, their dinner was to take place in one section of the small ballroom. The ceremony would be held there on Saturday, with the reception to follow in the bigger ballroom.

As they got closer to the party, Katie heard the sound of laughter and the clink of ice in glasses. She mentally braced herself for a whole night with her extended family. When she would have entered the room, he drew her back into the hallway.

“I want you to know you look amazing,” he said, staring into her eyes.

She could see his thick lashes, the light of appreciation in his gaze. Even though she’d always wished to be taller, she had to admit there was something to be said for having a man tower over her. At least this man.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “You’re nice.”

His dark brows pulled into a frown. “Excuse me?”

“You’re really nice.”

The frowned deepened. “I tell you that you look great and you insult me?”

Although he looked fierce, she saw the slight tug at the corner of his mouth. As if he were trying not to smile.

“Who does that?” he asked sternly. “I’m leaving.”

She fought back the urge to giggle. “Jackson, wait. I’m sorry. You’re not nice.”

The frown didn’t budge.

“You’re actually…” She hesitated, then lowered her voice. “Bad. Very bad. You’re the guy my mom warned me about.”

“Better.” His tone was grudging. “Just remember that.”

He leaned in to kiss her. Her muscles tensed in anticipation of a really good time, her breath caught and the nerve endings in her trembling lips did a fair imitation of yearning.

“There you are.” A shrill, quavering voice jerked Katie from anticipation all the way into nightmare. “Katie, darling. Come give me a kiss.”

Katie stepped back from Jackson and smiled at the tiny old lady teetering toward her. “Nana,” she said and moved toward the woman.

Sucking in a breath—for reasons no one could explain, Nana Marie always smelled like fish—Katie leaned in and kissed her papery cheek.

“There’s a good girl. Let me look at you.”

Katie stood still, then turned when she was directed.

“Very good. I see you’re keeping off the weight. We were all so worried you’d stay fat. But you’ve proved us wrong.” Nana Marie glanced at Jackson. “Who are you?”

“Jackson Kent.”

“Jackson, this is Nana Marie,” Katie told him. “She’s…” Katie shook her head. “Nana, how are we related?”

“We’re not. I was a friend of your grandmother’s.” Nana smiled at Jackson. “Aren’t you handsome? We’re all so happy that Katie finally has a man in her life. That Alex—leading her on and then falling for Courtney. That girl is about as emotionally deep as a potato chip. Not like our Katie.”

Nana squeezed Katie’s chin hard enough to make her eyes water. “You have a man now. That’s what counts. Now I have to excuse myself and go make water.”

Katie watched her head toward the restrooms, then wondered if pounding her head against the wall was an option. Sure, it would leave a bruise, but at least that would give people something to talk about that wasn’t her weight or her love life.

“I’m sorry,” she said miserably. “This is so much worse than I ever imagined.”

Jackson moved close and lightly stroked her cheek. “Hey, I signed up for this. Besides, I like her.”

“Wait until she pinches your cheek.”

He chuckled, then grew serious. “Don’t take this wrong, but your family really needs to stop judging you. You have a great job, you’re beautiful and sexy. When you’re ready, you’ll get married. Any man would be lucky to have you. Alex is an idiot for picking Courtney over you.”

Katie blinked at him. There were so many wonderful places to start—she couldn’t pick just one.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome.” He put his arm around her and led her toward the party. “We’ll circle by Alex and Courtney and the poor guy can get a look at what he’s missing.”

* * *

Nana Marie turned out to be one of the easier relatives to deal with, Jackson thought three hours later as he and Katie moved together during a slow dance. The McCormick family was large, loving and way too focused on their perception of Katie’s flaws. If someone wasn’t mentioning her weight—again—he or she was exclaiming over the fact that she had a date. As if that was a surprise.

He didn’t get it. Granted, he was a guy and maybe not the most insightful male in the room, but what was the big deal? Katie was gorgeous. She had beautiful eyes, great skin, shiny blond hair and those were just the average parts. Right now, holding her as they moved together to the music, he could feel her breasts nestling against his chest and rested his hand on the curve of her hip. There was nothing wrong with her shape. On the contrary, his body was telling him it was exactly right.

People were strange and families were the worst. At least he was here and could protect her.

A sweet, slightly floral fragrance drifted to him. The appealing scent made him think of dark bedrooms and tangled sheets. Without thinking, he guided her over to a large pillar at the edge of the dance floor. When they were out of view of everyone else, he bent down and kissed her.

Her mouth welcomed his with a soft pressure that made every part of him ache. Her lips parted and he moved his tongue against hers. She tasted of chocolate and wine and temptation. In a matter of seconds, he was hard.

Trying to be a gentleman, he kept some slight distance between them. At least he tried. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. When her belly came in contact with his erection, she made a sound that was part groan, part purr. He felt the vibration all the way down to his groin.

“We can’t,” she murmured against his mouth, then nipped his lower lip. “It would be a seriously bad idea. Dangerous even.”

He dropped his head and kissed his way down her neck. As he licked that sensitive spot below her ear, he felt her shudder.

“Bad idea for who?” he asked.

“Me. Us. It’s just a weekend, Jackson. I don’t do one-night stands.”

He straightened and stared into her beautiful blue eyes. “Why does it have to stop at one night?”

She was flushed and looked thoroughly kissed. Through the thin fabric of her dress, he saw her nipples were hard. Angling around, so he was between her and anyone who might see them, he touched the tight tips with his fingers. Her breath caught.

Wanting burned in her eyes. “You are every kind of temptation.”

He kissed her again, this time sucking gently on her tongue. Need grew, pulsing inside him. There was something about Katie.

He sensed more than heard someone approaching and stepped back. Seconds later, her parents rounded the pillar.

“There you are,” her mother said. “Well, this went well. We’re at the halfway point. Two evenings down, two to go. I wanted to tell you that you can leave anytime you want. Everyone is turning in. Tully went up an hour ago. Alone, thank goodness, although she was eyeing one of the waiters.”

“We’re tired, too,” Katie said quickly, not meeting his eyes. “We’ll come with you.”

They rode the elevator together. He and Katie got out on the same floor and walked toward her door.

“Jackson, I—” she began.

“It’s okay,” he said, kissing her lightly.

“What’s okay?”

“This isn’t the time or place. There’s too much of your family around for one thing. When the weekend is over, I’ll call. We’ll go out.” He smiled. “In a more normal setting.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Katie, I’m not seventeen. I can wait.” He kissed her again. “You’re worth that.”

He took the key she’d pulled out of her purse and opened her door. After handing it back to her, he pushed her inside. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Night.”

Katie floated into her room more than walked. This couldn’t be happening, she thought, practically dizzy with delight. It wasn’t possible that Jackson really was funny and smart and handsome and interested in her. Was it?

All the signs were there. Only, she’d been fooled by signs before. But there was a very big part of her—okay, all—that wanted to believe he really was one of the good guys.

She’d barely stepped out of her heels when someone tapped lightly on her door and spoke her name in a low, muffled tone.

Excitement and worry battled in her stomach. While she liked a good seduction as much as the next girl, she really wasn’t sure she was comfortable climbing into bed with Jackson right now.

She pulled open the door, prepared to tell him that when she saw the man waiting for her wasn’t her date. He was her ex-fiancé.

“Alex?”

“Katie, hi.”

Alex took a step into her room, tripping as he crossed the threshold.

“You’re drunk.”

“Maybe.” He stood in front of her, his expression hopeful. Kind of like a puppy. “Maybe we only tell the truth when we’re drunk.”

Uh-oh. She didn’t like the sound of that. “Alex, whatever you have going on, you need to take it up with Courtney. You two are getting married in less than forty-eight hours.” She turned him and gave him a push toward the still-open door. “Out you go.”

He stood immovable as stone. “Katie, what if it’s a mistake? What if I don’t love Courtney?”

Alarms went off inside her head. “You’re just nervous about getting married.” And a jerk for acting like this less than forty-eight hours before the wedding, but that was a conversation for later. “That’s all this is.”

He reached for her. “Remember how it was with us? How great?”

“No. I don’t.”

He gave her a lopsided, sloppy smile. “You miss me. You know you do.”

Hadn’t she just been mature-girl, not two minutes ago with Jackson? Hadn’t she done the right thing? And what? This was her reward? On what planet was that fair?

“Okay,” she said, giving him a smile. “I need to take care of a couple of things.” She pointed to the bathroom. “Just stay right there.”

“I could take my clothes off.”

She held in a shriek, but instead tried to look seductive. “Oh, Alex. Leave that for me.”

He plopped down on the bed. “Okay. I will.”

She ducked into the bathroom and pulled her cell phone out of her evening bag. Grateful her mother had given her Jackson’s number and she’d put it in her phone, she dialed it and waited.

“Katie?”

“Alex is here. He’s drunk and thinks he wants to have sex with me.”

“There’s a lot of that going around.”

“Very funny. I need help.”

“Be right there.”

He was as good as his word, arriving before she’d walked out of the bathroom. Jackson looked at Alex, then shook his head.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “You had your chance and you walked away. Now, she’s mine.”

Confusion clouded Alex’s eyes. “You’re Katie’s new boyfriend?”

“That’s me.”

“Damn.”

Alex stood, leaned a little too far to the right, then straightened himself. He managed to make it to the still-open door and paused.

“Sorry, man.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” Jackson said.

Alex waved and carefully closed the door behind him.

“Impressive,” she told Jackson. “Thanks for saving me. If he’d tried anything, it would have been a disaster.”

“A scandal, at the very least.”

He wanted her. She felt it in his gaze, saw it in the set of his body. But being the kind of guy he was, he would respect her refusal and not even make a second attempt. As she’d thought before…nice.

The smart thing would be to let him walk away. They barely knew each other. This was an overly emotional situation and she wasn’t thinking straight. Giving in to sex with a stranger was a big mistake. Huge. She would hate herself in the morning.

All very reasonable arguments, Katie thought as she walked over to Jackson and touched his glasses.

“How well do you see without those?” she asked.

“I see great close up.”

“Good.”

Sometime between their goodbye and his return to her room, he’d taken off his suit jacket and tie. Her work was nearly done for her. It would be a shame to let that effort go to waste.

“You want to take off your glasses?” she asked.

“What will you give me if I do?”

She laughed. “Whatever you want.”

Six

Jackson put his glasses on the table by the door and turned to her. Katie saw the deep green of his eyes, the thick lashes, the perfect lines of his face.

“You’re really a very—”

She didn’t get any further. Instead of letting her speak, he pulled her against him, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply.

There was no easing into position, no slight brush of mouth on mouth. Instead he pressed his lips to hers as if he meant to have her, and nothing was going to stop him.

The power of his mouth, the heat, nearly had her swooning. Even as she parted for him and met him stroke for stroke, she felt a tightness in her chest. As if she couldn’t catch her breath.

His hands were everywhere—up and down her back, along her hips, cupping her rear, then squeezing. She arched against him, bringing her midsection in contact with his arousal. He was hard and thick, she thought desperately. Deep inside, she felt a liquid warmth easing through her.

She hung on, as much to feel his strength as to stay standing. Wanting grew to desperation. Hunger burned like fire, licking through her body, making her whimper.

With an ease that was impressive, he found and lowered the zipper on the back of her dress. He broke the kiss long enough to slip the fabric down her arms, before returning his mouth to hers. He slid his hands from her back to her waist, then up to the black bra covering her breasts.

“God, you feel good,” he breathed as he cupped the curves in his hands.

His fingers found her tight nipples and brushed them. Erotic delight wove through her, settling between her legs and making her squirm. He made quick work of her bra, tossed it aside, then bent his head to her breasts.

He took first one nipple, then the other, in his mouth. He didn’t just lick and suck—he feasted on her skin, tasting, teasing, arousing. She trembled, her insides melting, that place between her thighs swelling until it ached. He used his tongue, his lips, his teeth until she was incoherent. When he started backing her toward the bed, she couldn’t move fast enough.

They reached the mattress. As she stepped out of her sandals, he toed off his shoes. Her dress hit the floor, as did his shirt and socks. She stood in bikini panties, aware that she was fifteen…okay, twenty…pounds over her ideal weight, but instead of feeling self-conscious, she felt lush. Desirable.

Jackson hid nothing. Not the hunger burning in his eyes or the throbbing of his erection. He let his pants drop, then pushed down his briefs and reached for her hand and brought it to him.

“You’re driving me to the edge,” he whispered before he kissed her.

She touched his smooth hardness, felt the velvety tip and once again shuddered. But when she would have moved faster, steadier, he pushed her hand away and smiled.

“Let’s just say my control isn’t what it should be.”

Because of her? It was the reason that made the most sense and she was going to enjoy believing it. But there wasn’t much time to revel. Not with him tugging at her panties, then lowering them.

She stepped out of the scrap of fabric. He eased her onto the bed, then slid in next to her. They came together in a rush of arms and legs and hot, arousing kisses.

He slipped one hand between her legs and groaned as his fingers sank into the swollen, ready flesh. A finger slipped inside her as he used his thumb to circle her center. The combination, done in perfect rhythm, drove her from very interested to panting in about two seconds.

There was something about the way he touched her. As if he knew exactly what she would like. The finger inside her moved more deeply, then curved up toward her belly, finding an internal fun switch that made her open her legs wide and beg for more.

He eased her onto her back. Her eyes were closed as she lost herself in the sensations washing through her. There was too much, she thought desperately. She couldn’t come this fast. But she also seemed to have lost control of everything. There was his thumb going around and around, barely grazing her swollen and hungry center. His other finger matched the movement, but from the inside, touching her in a way that made her want to scream. Her skin was hot, her legs shaking. Muscles clenched in anticipation. It was a runaway train of sexual need and she could only hold on.

Without warning, he licked her right nipple. The unexpected contact made her shudder. Then he drew the tip into his mouth and sucked deeply. A second later, her orgasm burst to life, vibrating through her, making her writhe and cry out.

She rode the pleasure, pressing down on his finger. He replaced it with two, filling her more, letting her grind against him. Waves and waves of pleasure crashed into her, taking her along for the ride of a lifetime.

The sensations slowed, then gentled before fading. Katie felt at one with the universe and a little embarrassed by her out-of-control reaction. What would he think of her? That she was some sex-starved crazy woman? Self-doubt, her least favorite personal companion, slid into bed with them.

But before it could get comfortable, Jackson shifted so that he was kneeling between her legs. He parted her, pushed his way inside, and braced himself above her. It was only then she noticed his arms were shaking.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he asked as he filled her. “You could kill a man like that.”

She stared up at him. Her first thought was that he was beautiful. Her second was to ask, “What are you talking about?”

He swore again, even as he pushed into her, then withdrew. “You were incredible. So sexy. I could feel you getting close, and then you were coming and I couldn’t get enough of it. I don’t know how long I can hold back.”

He spoke with wonder, but there was also a guttural need. She felt it and saw it. Any lingering doubt faded. She absorbed the feel of him filling her over and over, shifted so she could wrap her legs around his hips and keep him in place.

“You don’t have to hold back,” she whispered, reveling in his urgency. “I want you.”

She moved her hips in time with him, drawing him in deeper. She noticed his gaze kept dropping to her full breasts, moving with every thrust. Acting on instinct, she cupped them in her hands and ran her fingers across the nipples. Instantly he shuddered inside her and groaned out his release.

Later, when they were under the covers in her bed, tangled up together, he kissed the top of her head.

“I’m an idiot,” he murmured.

“Why?”

“My mother has been trying to get me to ask you out for years. If I’d listened, we could have been doing this for a whole lot longer.”

“I’ve resisted, too,” she admitted, looking at him and smiling. “So we’re both stupid. We could send small but tasteful gifts.”

“Then they’d know we had sex.”

“Based on what I know about my parents’ sex life, I don’t think that’s a problem,” she told him.

He laughed, then shifted so she was on her back and he was leaning over her. “Katie,” he whispered, right before his mouth claimed hers.

* * *

They spent the night together, then woke early, showered and discovered a whole new level of fun with hot water and soap. Katie found herself leaning forward, arms braced against the tile walls, the water pounding on her back, while Jackson knelt between her thighs and used his lips and tongue to reduce her to a quivery mass. She returned the favor. By the time they stepped out of the steamy bathroom, she was hungry, achy and feeling better than she had in years. Maybe ever.

A quick glance at the bedside clock showed her that it was already past nine.

“Much as I would like to play with you all day, I have to get dressed,” she told Jackson. “I have family stuff to take care of. The rehearsal is this afternoon and the dinner is tonight.”

He kissed her nose. “I’ll come with you.”

She blinked at him. “To the family stuff?”

“Sure. I’ll distract them with my wit and charm.”

She touched his bare chest. “Or you could just take your shirt off. That will distract the women.”

“I don’t want Aunt Tully getting any ideas.”

She pressed her mouth to his shoulder. “Me, either. I suspect a man is never the same after knowing Aunt Tully.”

They were both still laughing when someone knocked on her door.

“Katie? Are you still in there?”

Katie winced. “My mom.”

He grabbed his clothes and ducked into the bathroom. “I’ll be quiet,” he promised.

“Thanks.”

Katie tossed her towel on the bed and slipped into her robe, then crossed the room.

“Hi, Mom,” she said as she opened the door.

Her mother frowned. “You’re still not dressed?”

“I, ah, didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

“Me, either. All this stress. Swear to me you won’t have a huge four-day event like this when you get married.”

“I promise. It’s not my style.”

Her mother collapsed onto the chair in the corner and rubbed her temples. “It’s a nightmare. In no particular order, Aunt Tully made a pass at Bruce and no one is sure if he took her up on it or not, Alex is missing and Courtney is having second thoughts. I’ve never been someone who medicates her way through life, but I’m thinking this is a good day to start.”

Katie stared at her mother. Bruce was Alex’s dad. And married. “You think Aunt Tully slept with the groom’s father?”

“Honestly, I’m trying not to think about it.”

“His wife can’t be happy.”

“She’s not. Let’s just say I asked the kitchen staff to inventory the knives until this is all cleared up. There was quite the shouting match this morning over breakfast. You should have been there.”

Katie thought about what she and Jackson had been doing instead. “Yes, it’s a shame,” she murmured, trying not to smile at the memory. Just remembering was enough to get her body tingling. The aching parts of her might be sore but they sure weren’t done.

She shook off the memories and focused on the problems at hand. “Is Alex really missing?”

“No one has seen him since the party. Apparently he was drunk.”

Katie remembered his visit to her room. “Um, Mom?”

“What?”

“He came by here. He said he loved Courtney but he wanted to have sex with me.”

Katie expected shrieking, but her mother only closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the chair.

“Mom?”

“I’m imagining myself in another place. A quiet place with running water and the sounds of happy birds. I am one with the universe.”

“Can you be one with the universe and look for the groom?”

Her mother opened her eyes. “No, but you’re right. Wedding first, breakdown second.” She drew in a breath. “I know those two really care about each other. I’ve seen it and heard it and believe it. It’s just they’re both so dramatic. His car is still here, so he has to be somewhere. Maybe he went into the woods to sleep it off.”

“Or be eaten by a bear. Didn’t you say Courtney was having second thoughts? The untimely death of the groom would give her all the attention without the wedding.”

Janis’s mouth twitched. “Don’t be mean.”

“I’m just saying.”

Her mother stood. “All right. I’ll deal with Aunt Tully and Bruce. We’ll leave Courtney to pout in her room. She always loved a good sulk when she was little and that hasn’t changed. You go looking for Alex.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not still in love with him are you? If so, I’m not throwing you two together.”

Katie thought about the delicious man hovering in her bathroom. How he made her feel when he was around. Jackson listened and appreciated her. He was magic in bed. Smart, funny, charming.

“It’s not possible for me to be more over Alex than I am. He is complete history. Has been for months now.”

“Good. Then find him and talk some sense into him. Use force if you have to. There will be a wedding tomorrow. I swear there will be.”

“You go, Mom.”

“Don’t mock me. I’m a woman on the edge.” Her mother gave her a brief hug, then kissed her cheek. “Thank you for being normal.”

“You’re welcome.”

When her mother had left, Jackson came out of the bathroom. He’d already dressed.

“Looks like you’re safe from Aunt Tully,” Katie told him. “She’s replaced you.”

“So it seems. Do you really think she’s sleeping with the father of the groom?”

“With her, it’s not hard to believe anything.”

He winced. “There are going to be some wild fireworks.”

“There always are.”

He grabbed her hand. “Want some help looking for Alex? Divide and conquer?”

“That would be great. I’ll take the kitchen and the lower floors.”

He nodded. “I’ll change into jeans and check the grounds.”

“Watch out for bears. You’re pretty enough that they’ll want you.”

“No guy wants to be pretty.”

She smiled. “It looks good on you.”

“You look good on me.”

He kissed her, then left. Katie stood there, wearing nothing but a robe, thinking this was probably the best wedding ever.

Seven

Divide and conquer might make sense, Katie thought a half hour later, when she’d dressed and made her way to the kitchens. But there was a flaw in the plan. A tall, red-headed flaw with long legs, a perfect pouty mouth and an ability to only think about one thing.

“You’re with the wedding, right?” Ariel asked as Katie entered the kitchen.

Jackson’s ex stood by a counter, carefully assembling a four-tiered wedding cake. Smooth, white fondant covered all the layers. Stacked trays contained already-made flowers in pale pink and yellow. Silver dots lined paper sheets.

“Yes. My sister is getting married.”

“Good, so what do you know about Jackson? I saw you with him. You guys are friends?”

Katie thought about Jackson’s intimate kiss that morning, in the shower. The way he’d pressed his open mouth on the most sensitive part of her. There wasn’t an inch of skin he hadn’t touched or tasted. He’d made her come in ways that were borderline illegal.

“We’re friends,” she said, hoping she sounded calm and slightly disinterested. Her instinct was to rip off Ariel’s face, something the other woman might resist. And there was the cake to consider.

“Is he…” Ariel sucked in a breath. “Is he with anyone? We used to go out. I left him because I was stupid. Now I see we were great together. He’s amazing, and I totally blew it. I made a mistake. I want him back.”

Tears filled her perfect, almond-shaped eyes. No red nose and blotchy skin for Ariel when she cried, Katie thought bitterly.

What Katie wanted to say was that she and Jackson were together. Practically in love. Because they—

The world stood still. She’d heard the phrase, read the phrase, but this was the first time in her life she’d felt it. Everything stopped moving. There was total silence. Even her heart was quiet.

Practically in love? She couldn’t be in love. She barely knew Jackson. Okay, yes, he was everything she’d ever wanted and nice and funny and kind. The man had agreed to be her date for the weekend because his mother had asked him. How many guys did that without being scarily attached to the mother in question?

If he was everything she’d been looking for and they had amazing chemistry in bed and he made her feel like a goddess, was it unreasonable to assume that there was the tiniest possibility that she was falling in love with him? Crazy, maybe, but possible?

The world lurched into place again.

“Are you okay?” Ariel asked.

“Fine,” Katie murmured, feeling more than a little dazed. “I, uh, don’t know anything about his love life.” She was speaking the truth. Well, excluding his relationship with her.

While she was sure he wasn’t seeing anyone seriously—his mother wouldn’t have asked him to do the wedding weekend if he was—she didn’t know about casual relationships. For all she knew he had a string of women lined up, waiting for their turn. If last night was only a sampling of his talents, then it made sense there would be plenty of takers.

Ariel sighed. “I want to talk to him. Explain. I want him back. I can’t believe how stupid I was. A guy like Jackson doesn’t come along very often.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Katie said, backing toward the door. “You haven’t seen the groom, have you?”

“No. Only your mom. She’s really nice.”

“We all think so. Thanks.”

“Wish me luck with Jackson.”

Katie waved instead, and left the kitchen. Dazed, she walked into the lobby, then out into the bright morning light.

She was falling in love with the man her mother had tried to set her up with a thousand times. Talk about ironic. Even more confusing was the fact that she couldn’t begin to have any idea about how Jackson felt. Asking him was out of the question. She refused to be one of those scary, needy girls who wanted to talk marriage on a second date. She was used to hiding her feelings from the world. Why should this time be any different?

She glanced toward the hotel. Maybe because Jackson was different, she thought. Or maybe he wasn’t. Maybe she was making too big a deal out of a great smile and even better sex.

* * *

Jackson didn’t have to go very far to find the missing groom. He was passed out on a bench in an outbuilding probably used to store skis in the winter.

Jackson shook Alex’s shoulder a couple of times. The other man groaned, rolled over and blinked sleepily up at him.

“Hey,” Alex said, his voice hoarse. “I know you. You’re here for my wedding. I miss Courtney. She’s great. Have you noticed how great she is?”

“Courtney’s amazing,” Jackson told him. “And you’re going to marry her tomorrow.”

Alex slowly pushed into a sitting position. “I know. She’s beautiful and stuff, but she can be selfish and it makes me crazy. Then I think about not being with her and it hurts to breathe. What do you think that means?”

“You’re nervous about getting married,” Jackson said firmly. “It happens. You need to focus on what you love about Courtney, how you felt when you proposed. Back then you knew you’d be happy together forever. Remember that now.”

Alex blinked several times. “That’s deep, man.”

“I’m a trained professional,” Jackson said, comfortable with the lie. “You need to get up and go back to the hotel. Shower, shave and have a lot of coffee. Then you’re going to find Courtney and tell her how much you love her. After that, you’ll have to deal with your mother. It’s possible that your father slept with Aunt Tully.”

Alex’s stare turned glassy. “My father what?”

Jackson helped Alex to his feet. “Your mother will fill in the details. Now do you remember what you’re supposed to do?”

“Shower, shave, coffee, Courtney, Mom. Got it.”

“Excellent.”

“So you’re a shrink?” Alex asked, leading the way out of the small building.

“Something like that.”

“Katie’s lucky to have you. She deserves someone really great.”

“I know.”

“It wasn’t me.”

“Apparently not.”

Alex sighed. “I miss her, too.”

“She’s not on your list.”

“I know.”

Jackson watched Alex trudge toward the hotel. When the other man disappeared inside, Jackson stayed where he was and wondered how big a disaster this wedding was going to be.

Eight

“Why does Alex think you’re a psychiatrist?” Katie asked later that afternoon as she and Jackson walked toward the room where the rehearsal would be held.

“I gave him advice and he assumed.”

“Makes sense.” She smiled. “He’s not going to be happy when he finds out the truth.”

“If the wedding goes as planned, it shouldn’t matter one way or the other.”

Jackson sounded confident and he looked yummy. Or maybe it was the fact that due to all the stress and trauma, she’d missed lunch.

She eyed him, taking in the tailored pants, the long-sleeved shirt and sports jacket. He looked good. Good enough to make her forget the growling in her stomach.

Danger, she reminded herself. Falling for Jackson wasn’t smart. Not until she knew a little more about him. But they hadn’t had much time alone and now that they were by themselves, she couldn’t think of a single normal opening line. “So tell me about yourself” didn’t exactly meet the subtle requirement.

“Did you get any sleep?” Jackson whispered in her ear, his hand at the small of her back.

Something warm and liquid flowed through her. “I tried, but there were too many interruptions.”

“Should I apologize?”

“You weren’t the one interrupting me.”

He grinned at her. “You know what I mean.”

Their gazes locked. She felt the crackle of awareness, of need. “No,” she whispered. “Don’t apologize.”

“Good.”

They’d stopped just outside the open door. Katie could hear conversation and knew they should take that last couple of steps and go inside. But staring into Jackson’s eyes was the best part of her day. Well, kissing him was better and when he touched her…

“I read science fiction,” he blurted.

“What?”

“I read science fiction. I like spy movies and thrillers. I can sit through a romantic comedy if it’s important to you. I like relaxed vacations, preferably by the beach, but I can do the mountain thing, too.”

He cupped her face. “Tell me what you like.”

“Um, I read romances and mysteries. I like most movies, as long as they’re not too violent or gory. I can’t remember the last vacation I took, but a beach would be nice.”

“I fell out of a tree when I was eight and broke my arm.”

“I have a tattoo on my butt that says Buddy.”

He dropped his hands and stared at her. “Buddy.”

She laughed and kissed him. “Kidding. No tattoo.”

“I didn’t think so. I would have seen it last night.” He grabbed her in his arms and spun her around. “We wasted way too much time, Katie. My mom’s going to love hearing that.”

Her heart pounded hard and fast. What exactly was he saying? Could she hope that he was as crazy about her as she was about him? Was it possible that she was going to get that lucky?

She opened her mouth, prepared to ask, when a soft voice spoke his name.

“Jackson, do you have a second?”

He put her down and they both turned to find a very beautiful, worried-looking Ariel standing behind them.

“I have to go to the wedding rehearsal,” he said, his hand still on Katie’s waist.

“This shouldn’t take long. Please?”

Katie thought about how much Jackson had come to mean to her and how, when compared with the tall, leggy beauty, she was perfectly average. Before falling for him, she would have instantly gone to the bad place. While she was flirting with heading in that direction, there was a part of her that felt strong.

“You should talk to her,” she told him.

“Why? I know the rehearsal won’t be fun.”

“I’ll survive, and you won’t be that long.”

At least she hoped he wouldn’t be. Besides, if he was the kind of guy to sleep with her and then want to get back together with an ex, better she know that now. When there was still a chance of getting out with her heart intact. Or at the very least only slightly shattered.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, then walked toward Ariel.

Katie didn’t want to see the two beautiful people together, so she hurried into the rehearsal room.

She would be fine, she told herself as she raised her chin and strode forward purposefully. Then promptly fell over a handbag, stumbled, twisted, felt an ugly pop and crumpled to the floor.

* * *

Katie really wanted to stay where she was. If she could lie on the floor and have everyone pretend they couldn’t see her, she would be perfectly happy. Instead, they all gathered around, hovering, asking questions and offering advice.

Alex reached her first and helped her into a chair. “Where does it hurt?” he asked, rubbing his hands up and down her legs.

She pushed him away. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

Her mother reached her next. “Are you all right?”

“I think I pulled something. I’m sure I’ll be okay in a second.”

Her mother squeezed her hand. “If you’re going to try and get out of the wedding, you’ll have to do better than this,” she whispered.

Katie managed a smile through the growing pain in her knee. “The window was too far.”

Her father knelt in front of her and cupped her knee. “It’s swelling, kid. I’m guessing a sprain. Let’s go have a look.”

He helped her hobble to the room next door. She pulled off her sandals and white jeans, then winced when she saw her knee. It was nearly double in size.

“That’s attractive,” she murmured.

Her dad, a family doctor, probed and squeezed. “You’re the sports nut in the family. Want to guess?”

She’d seen enough knee strains to recite from memory. “Ice, elevation, rest, ibuprofen and wrap it when I’m standing.”

“That’s my girl. If it’s not better in the next couple of days, we’ll do an X-ray, but my guess is you’ll be fine.” He stood. “Trying to get out of walking down the aisle?”

“If only.” She poked at her knee, then winced. “Talk about graceful.”

He supported her as she stood, then helped her back into her clothes. “We love you anyway.”

“I appreciate the lack of conditions on your affection,” she said and hugged him.

He held her for a second. “This wedding is a disaster. You hear about Tully and Bruce?”

“It beats thinking about you and mom having sex.”

“Don’t go there.”

“Believe me, I’m trying not to.”

Her father straightened, then looked at her. “I know Alex hurt you when he dumped you for Courtney, but I was relieved. He was never the right one for you. I hope you know that.”

“I do.”

“Good.”

The door opened and Jackson burst in. “I was gone fifteen minutes. What the hell happened?” He saw Katie’s father and stopped. “Uh, sir,” he added.

Bad enough that everyone in the wedding party had witnessed her clumsiness, but now she had to tell Jackson about it.

“This is why I only write about sports rather than actually participate in them,” she said with a shrug. “I tripped.”

“Are you hurt? I hear you broke something.”

“A knee strain,” her father said cheerfully. “She’ll be fine.” He hesitated, then glanced between them. “Should I let you lean on him?”

Katie nodded, and her father left. She turned to Jackson.

“How’s Ariel?”

“Fine. What happened?”

“Ariel first.”

“You first.”

She huffed out a breath. “I fell over a purse and twisted my knee.”

“She thinks we should get back together. I told her no.”

Katie had already known what he was going to say, but it was still a punch in the gut to hear the words.

“Can you be more specific?” she asked cautiously.

He crossed to her. “Do you need ice or something?”

“Ice, elevation, rest and ibuprofen.”

“In that order?”

“All at once is better.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Before she could figure out what he was doing, he bent over, gathered her in his arms and picked her up. She shrieked as she left the ground.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking you to your room.”

The door her father had closed opened again and her mother stood there, wide-eyed. “I heard screaming and…” She took in her daughter in Jackson’s arms, then sighed. “That’s so romantic.”

“It’s not,” Katie insisted, hanging on to his neck. “I’m not a cat. Put me down.”

“I’m taking you to your room. You need to take care of your knee.” He walked easily, as if she wasn’t solidly built. “Janis, if you could get Katie’s purse?”

“Of course.”

They moved through the rehearsal room where everyone gathered around. Everyone except Courtney, who stared at Katie with unconcealed anger in her eyes. Katie buried her face in Jackson’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about the rehearsal,” her mother was saying. “You walk down the aisle and wait for the bride. How hard could it be? Jackson, you take good care of my girl.”

“I will,” he promised and stepped onto the waiting elevator.

Nine

“Better?” Jackson asked an hour later.

Katie lay on the bed, her leg propped up on a couple of pillows, ice held in place with one of his T-shirts.

“I’m dealing more with a sense of the ridiculous rather than pain,” she admitted. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Talk about embarrassing. So far nearly everyone in the wedding party had been by to check on her. Not Courtney, but her sister would assume Katie had tripped on purpose—to ruin Courtney’s day.

“I was distracted,” she admitted, looking at Jackson, who was stretched out next to her.

He rolled onto his side, his head resting on his hand. “Ariel?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“We’re not together. We haven’t been for a long time.”

“She wants to change that.”

“I want to cover you in champagne and lick you dry, but that’s not going to happen.” He grinned. “At least not tonight.”

He leaned toward her and kissed her. “I’m not interested in Ariel.”

“She’s beautiful.”

He shrugged. “I’m over her. I was ten minutes after she left.”

Which was both reassuring and concerning. “You don’t believe in second chances?”

“Sure, but why would I want her when you’re around?”

She felt her mouth drop open. That seemed to happen a lot around Jackson. She closed it. “Nice answer.”

“Any more questions?” he asked.

“Not really.”

“Good.” He kissed her again, this time more slowly. “Think your family is done checking up on you?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I hope so.”

“Me, too.”

* * *

The next morning, Jackson eased himself out of Katie’s bed. She was still asleep, her short blond hair spiky against the pillowcase.

She’d spent most of the night on her back, her leg draped over a pillow, to elevate her knee. Now, he saw the swelling had gone down. She would be stiff when she got up, but would heal quickly. His gaze lingered on the painted toenails. Something he’d never cared about one way or the other, but on Katie, they were oddly erotic.

Her skin was soft, he thought as he pulled on clothes. Her body warm, her responses irresistible. There was something about her—something special and unique. Something that drew him in and made him want to stay.

Instead he crossed the room and quietly let himself out into the hall. He would shower in his own room. Today was the wedding. Katie would need to be rested.

But before he could pull the door shut, Courtney stepped out of the elevator and headed for him.

“Is she up?” the bride-to-be demanded. “I have to talk to her.”

“She’s still—”

Courtney didn’t bother to listen to the rest of it. She pushed past him and burst into the room.

“You’re not up? You have to get up. There’s something going on with Alex. He doesn’t love m-me.”

The last word was accompanied by wild sobbing.

Jackson hesitated, not sure if he wanted to go back inside and be supportive or run for the hills. As the mountains were mere feet away, the latter was tempting. Still, he sucked it up and went into Katie’s room.

She’d sat up in bed, drawing the sheets up to her shoulders. Their eyes met and she smiled at him.

“Morning,” she said, her voice low and sexy.

“Morning.”

“Are you listening to me?” Courtney demanded loudly. “Alex isn’t sure he wants to marry me.”

That got Katie’s attention. She stared at her sister. “You said he loves you before. Which is it?”

“Does it matter? I’m miserable.”

Katie did her best not to roll her eyes. “Why? You’re marrying a really great guy who adores you. This is going to be a great day.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re jealous of me.”

Katie frowned. If she was jealous, wouldn’t she be mean rather than nice? “What exactly is there to be jealous of?”

“I’m getting married, and all you have is a paid escort.”

Jackson leaned against the door frame. “You’re paying me?”

“You haven’t heard?” Katie asked, sounding more amused than hurt. “Hundreds of dollars.”

“Is there a bonus for good behavior?”

“I was thinking I might give you a little something extra.”

“I can’t wait.”

Courtney turned on him. “Shut up and stay out of this. None of this has anything to do with you.”

He straightened and moved toward her. “On the contrary. It has everything to do with me because it has to do with Katie. Whatever your problems are with your fiancé, they have nothing to do with your sister. Katie has been supportive of you, which is more than it seems like you deserve.”

Courtney’s mouth dropped open. “You…you…”

“Your sister has no interest in Alex. If she did, he would be a very lucky man. But she has moved on. As has Alex. He’s in love with you and wants to marry you. If you expect this marriage to work, you’re going to have to grow up. You probably won’t like acting like an adult, but it will be good for you.”

Courtney glared at him. “I hate you.”

“You’re not my favorite person, either.”

“You’re not invited to my wedding. Don’t even think about showing up,” Courtney said as she ran out of the room.

He walked toward the bed.

“Should I go after her and apologize?” he asked.

Katie grinned. “No, but talk about great breakfast theater. That was amazing. And a long time coming.”

“You shouldn’t let her trash you.”

“I know. Old habits and all that.”

He was about to bend down and kiss her when the door opened again.

Janis hurried in, barely blinking when she saw him in Katie’s room.

“Apparently the lovebirds have had a fight. I can’t find Courtney, Alex is moping and it’s not even nine in the morning. I knew they were going to make me wish we’d paid them to elope. They’re both so immature, yet oddly right for each other.”

“Courtney was just here,” Katie said. “She’s upset and emotional.”

Janis touched her temple. “I can feel a headache coming on. I swear, there will be a wedding if I have to drug them and tie them up.”

“At least that will make for interesting pictures,” Katie offered.

“I’m ignoring that. How’s your knee?”

“Much better.”

“Thank God. That means you’re out of excuses. Please get up and dressed. I’m going to need help today. And very possibly black-market drugs. I wonder if your father would write me a prescription.” She drew in a breath and smiled absently at Jackson.

“Morning, Jackson.”

“Janis.”

“A word to the wise. Never have daughters.”

* * *

The morning passed quickly. Katie was pleased to discover the swelling in her knee had almost completely disappeared. She wore low-heeled shoes, saving her moments on high heels for the walk down the aisle. There were a thousand details to see to and in an effort to take the pressure off her mother, she’d offered to take care of all of them. The cake was finished, the chairs set up. The florist was hard at work, stringing ribbons and setting out arrangements.

She left the room that would be used for the actual service, then made her way outside onto a side patio. The day was bright and sunny, promising to be warm. Perfect for pictures.

Courtney and Alex were nowhere to be seen, but she could only hope they were off somewhere having makeup sex. Anything to move the wedding forward.

“You’re frowning,” Jackson said as he came up behind her and put his arms around her waist.

“I’m thinking Courtney and Alex are crazy. Shouldn’t they have worked out their issues before they decided to get married?”

“You’d think, but no.” He took the clipboard from her hands. “How’s the checklist?”

“I’m making great progress.” She glanced at him, then away. “Ariel left.”

He turned her until she faced him. “You have to let Ariel go. I did.”

“But she’s so…”

“Yes?”

It was impossible to think with him staring into her eyes like that. As if she was interesting and compelling and, well, wonderful.

“What were you like as a kid?” she asked.

“Reclusive.” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I liked computers more than people and kept to my room. My mother tried everything to get me to play with the kids in the neighborhood, but I wasn’t interested. I didn’t know how to fit in or what to say to make them like me.”

“Too many brains and not enough social skills?”

“Exactly. I was in college by the time I was sixteen.”

“The summer we met,” she teased. “When you were so charming.”

“You bullied me.”

“A moment of pride.”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “If only I’d followed my heart back then.”

She laughed. “Oh, please. You weren’t interested in me.”

“There was a spark.”

“More like a laser beam of hatred.”

“Maybe it would have been better if our mothers had waited to introduce us.”

Katie nodded, then looked away. What would it have been like if she and Jackson had met when they were older? After she’d graduated from high school or during her first year of college. When she’d been thinner and prettier. More interested in boys.

“I would have been impressed,” she admitted.

“Me, too.”

He leaned in, as if to kiss her. She relaxed into his arms. But before she could give herself over to the moment, she heard a familiar laugh.

“Aunt Tully,” she whispered against Jackson’s mouth. “I’m supposed to find her and keep her away from Bruce.”

Apparently the issues between the parents of the groom had not yet been resolved. Katie couldn’t find out if there had been flirtation between Tully and Bruce or something more. To be honest, she didn’t really want to know.

There were footsteps on the patio. Katie turned and saw an older couple in a passionate embrace. Even from several feet away it was easy to see their bodies straining, the deep kisses, the way the man’s hands cupped Tully’s butt oh-so possessively.

Katie’s stomach flipped over. “Oh, God,” she murmured. “That’s not Alex’s mother, is it?”

“Sorry, no. It’s definitely Tully.”

“What should we do?”

“They’re adults.”

Katie looked at him. “You’re saying it’s not our responsibility?”

“Something like that.”

“So we should run.”

“Quietly.”

He took her hand and led her away.

Instead of returning to the hotel, they went around to the front, then across the driveway to the rose garden on the side. There was a gazebo, with a few chairs and benches. Jackson waited until she was seated on a bench before pulling a chair up across from her. He drew her feet onto his lap, pulled off her flats and began to rub her toes.

“How is your knee?” he asked, his long, strong fingers massaging her.

“Good. A little stiff, but I’m fine.” She glanced over her shoulder, toward the hotel. “I don’t know about leaving Tully and Bruce like that.”

“You really want to get in the middle of that conversation?”

“No. But Alex’s mom is going to be pissed.” She shook her head. “No. Not pissed. Hurt.”

“You’re assuming this is the first time.”

Katie looked at him. “Tully does this a lot. Takes advantage of men.”

“Sorry, no. She doesn’t take advantage of them. They’re willing partners in whatever she’s doing. Maybe she shows them something they didn’t know was there. Maybe they use her as an excuse. But either way, they have to take responsibility for their actions.”

Something Katie hadn’t thought about. “Everyone always says Tully is a force of nature. That no one can resist her.”

“I did.”

“You’re different.”

“No. Just scared.”

Katie laughed. “You’re saying she’s not your type?”

“She’d probably kill me. I doubt I could keep up.”

He continued to massage her feet. Warmth spread through her, making her want to confess her true feelings. But saying she was falling in love with him wasn’t an option. If anything, it would frighten him off and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

“I think you could take on Tully and win,” she told him.

“I appreciate the confidence but I’m not interested in that particular competition. I’d rather take on you.”

“Good answer.”

Ten

After a few more minutes of massage, Jackson slipped Katie’s shoes back on, then shifted so he was sitting next to her on the bench. He put his arm around her and she snuggled in close.

He felt warm, she thought. Safe.

“Tell me about where you live,” she said.

“Outside of Los Angeles.”

“Not Silicon Valley?”

“I avoided the cliché,” he said. “There’s plenty of talent in L.A. and when I was starting my business, I wanted good people.”

“Have you lived there long?”

“Seven years. We’re looking to move the company. We want something more low-key. Everyone’s getting married and having kids. We used to talk about the latest game innovations. Now conversations are about parks and school districts.”

Something fluttered in her chest. Hope, she thought, wondering if Fool’s Gold could make the short list.

“Any contenders?” she asked.

“Not yet. We’re just starting the process. What about you? You said you were a hometown girl. Is that permanent?”

“Yes. I went away to school, but I came back here. For a while I thought about moving to a bigger city—trying to get a job on a real paper. But this is my home.”

He looked up at the mountains soaring behind the resort. “It’s beautiful.” He hesitated. “There hasn’t been anyone to tempt you into moving?”

“A guy, you mean?” She glanced up at him. “Oh, please. You’ve met Alex. Not exactly my finest hour. I thought he was one of the good guys.” She closed her eyes, remembering. “I’d always thought that he took one look at Courtney and was simply swept away. But now I’m not so sure. I don’t think we were right for each other. Courtney was a catalyst, not a cause.”

“And before him?”

“The usual suspects. A high school boyfriend who broke my heart. A guy in college who was intense and romantic and was ultimately too intense and boring.”

He played with the ends of her hair. “So you’re the girl who got away.”

His voice was low and sexy and made her insides shiver. “Not exactly.”

“That wasn’t a question. You are.”

If only, she thought, then cleared her throat. “What about you? Other near misses besides Ariel.”

“A couple. I didn’t have a girlfriend in high school. My first romantic encounter was in college.”

“Let me guess. She was older, taught you everything you know.”

He shifted to face her. “How did you know?”

“You went to college when you were what? Five?”

“Sixteen.”

“Close enough. It would be difficult to find another college girl your age. Unless you waited until your senior year.” She stared into his beautiful green eyes. “You might have been willing to stall, but I doubt they were.”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “I was seventeen and she was nineteen. Spring break in Mexico. I hadn’t wanted to go.”

“She made you glad you did?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Good thing you were out of the country. In most states that relationship would have been illegal.”

The smile expanded. “It was worth it.”

She laughed. “Not you, Jackson. Her. You were a minor.”

“Oh. You’re right. Just as well, then.”

“And between the cougar and Ariel?”

He chuckled and pulled her close. “I was waiting for you.”

If only that were true, she thought with a sigh, surrendering to the moment and the man. Jackson was a temptation she couldn’t seem to ignore. Everything inside her screamed that he was the one. An impossible reality, given how short a time they’d known each other. But everything felt right.

All her life she’d gone after what she wanted. Even though she’d been a disaster at sports, she’d found a way to translate her love of the games into a career. When Colleen, the curmudgeonly editor of the local paper, had refused to interview her for the sports writer job, she’d sent her an article a day for three weeks. Colleen had relented and she’d been hired.

She’d tackled tough interviews, developed a network of friends and been happy. Except romantically. There she’d always been cautious, mostly because she was afraid of being hurt. But pain or not, she was falling for Jackson. Maybe it was time to do something about it.

She shifted on the bench so she was facing him. “You head home in the morning.”

“That’s the plan. Unless you want me to stick around.”

She stared at him. “As in…”

“You could show me the town. Invite me to a sleep-over.” He cupped her face in his strong hands. “This has been great, Katie. I owe my mom, big-time. You’re amazing. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to be lost,” she admitted. “I’d love to show you around. I’ve enjoyed our time together. I never thought I could get involved with someone this quickly.”

“Me, either.”

She took one of his hands. “I’ve really enjoyed all our time together. You’re exactly who—”

“There you are!” Katie’s mom hurried across the grass toward the gazebo. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. It’s a madhouse. I say that because disaster is so negative, but trust me, it’s not going well. Morning, Jackson.”

“Janis.”

Reluctantly Katie rose. “What’s going on?” She checked her watch. “It’s not time for us to be getting ready.”

“No, you have a few hours before the stylist Courtney had flown in from San Francisco clucks over all of us. The big news is about Rachel and Bruce.”

Katie winced, trying not to picture the older man in a passionate embrace with Tully.

“They’re getting a divorce,” Janis announced.

“What?”

“Apparently they’ve been separated for months, but Rachel didn’t want anyone to know.” Katie’s mother lowered her voice. “It was Rachel’s idea and she left Bruce for another woman.”

Katie didn’t know what to say.

Jackson moved next to her and whispered in her ear. “Are all your family events like this? I’ve got to tell you, it’s better than dinner theater.”

“Have you ever been to dinner theater?”

“You mentioned it this morning. It sounded fun.”

Katie turned back to her mom. “Seriously? So it’s okay that Bruce and Tully are involved?”

“I don’t know if it’s okay. Bruce isn’t a young man. Tully will probably kill him, but he’ll die happy. I saw them sucking face on the porch on my way to find you.”

Katie winced. “Mom, do me a favor. Please don’t say sucking face.”

“Isn’t that the right term? You young people today, always changing the language. It’s hard to keep up.”

Katie linked arms with her mom. “I know. We do it on purpose. Now is there anything else I should know? Are Alex and Courtney speaking?”

“That is a question for the ages.”

* * *

Jackson had to surrender Katie to the stylist at about one-thirty. He spent the next few hours exploring the Fool’s Gold city Web site and checking out real estate. From what he could see, the town was great and he could understand Katie’s reluctance to move.

Shortly after four, he dressed in the dark suit he’d brought along, then went down to the lobby to wait for his mother. His father had gotten out of having to attend by a carefully scheduled business trip to Hong Kong.

He spotted his mom as soon as she walked in.

“You look great,” he said, kissing her cheek.

“So do you.” She put her hands on his upper arms and kissed his cheek. “Very handsome. And yet you’re not the one getting married. Have I mentioned my need for grandchildren?”

“Sometimes you go a whole hour without mentioning it.”

“Hmm, I must be slipping. How are things here?”

“Frantic,” he admitted. “Trouble in paradise. Courtney and Alex are at odds. I have no idea where they stand now.”

His mother winced. “No wonder Janis left me a voice mail telling me it would help if I drank before the wedding. I hope everything goes all right.”

He agreed, although he wasn’t sure what would define all right. At this point he would think the odds of Alex and Courtney figuring out how to be happy together were fairly slim, yet he agreed with Janis. The couple was oddly right together.

He glanced around to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. “Alex showed up at Katie’s door, drunk, a couple of nights ago.”

“What did he want?”

“Guess.”

His mother shook her head. “Talk about a mess. What happened?”

“She called me, and I got him out of there.” He wasn’t going to mention how he’d then spent the night. Some details were best left undiscussed.

“So you’ve enjoyed your time with Katie,” his mother said.

He led them to the bar and ordered them each a drink. While they waited, he faced her.

“Yes, Mom. You were right.”

She sighed happily. “Hearing that never gets old. So you like her?”

“Katie’s great. Funny and charming. Sweet, pretty, smart. We’ve had a great time. I’m sorry I waited so long to let you get us together.”

His mother’s gaze turned speculative. “Interesting. That’s a little more enthusiasm than I was expecting. Are you planning to see her again?”

“Yes. She’s going to show me around Fool’s Gold tomorrow.”

The pleasure bled from his mother’s face. “Why would you do that? You don’t have any interest in the town.”

“I want to see where she lives.”

“Is that all? Because I know you’re thinking about moving your company. You can’t move it here, Howie.”

He did his best to keep from wincing as she spoke his name. “Why not? There’s an educated workforce, great school and inexpensive housing.”

“If you move the company here, Katie’s going to think you’re moving because of her. She’s the daughter of my best friend. You can’t do that if you’re not one hundred percent sure of this relationship. I don’t want you to hurt her.”

“I don’t want to hurt her, either.”

“You never want to hurt them. But you do. You get involved to a certain degree and then you back off. I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m sure none of the young women you’ve dumped have been ‘the one.’ But Katie is different. If or until you know how serious you are about her, don’t lead her on.”

The bartender served their drinks. Jackson automatically handed the guy a twenty and waved off change.

He wanted to say his mother was mistaken. That he didn’t have a pattern. Except looking over his past, he could see where she was right. He did get involved—to a point. But when it came to getting serious, when it came to getting married, he’d always backed away. He’d never been able to see himself spending the rest of his life with someone.

Until now.

Because while the thought of growing old with Ariel or any of the others would have sent him running for the impressive mountains behind the hotel, the thought of sixty or eighty years with Katie was appealing.

She would grow more beautiful with passing time. Her quirky humor and curious mind would challenge him. He found himself wanting to take care of her, make her feel safe. God knew he wanted to protect her from the few vicious elements in her family.

“Please don’t take this wrong,” his mother said earnestly. “I do love you, Howie, and I would love to see you and Katie together. But I don’t want Katie to be hurt. You’re amazing and the odds of her falling for you are huge. What woman wouldn’t want you?”

“Spoken like a true mother,” he murmured. “I get it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I would do anything to avoid hurting Katie.”

“Good. As long as you remember that.”

Eleven

Despite the drama, the crying, the sulking, Courtney was ready to walk down the aisle right on time. Katie had already checked out the groom and he was waiting in place, up by the minister. Both main players were excited, happy and telling whoever would listen how much they loved each other.

The nearly three hundred guests were in place—a number that made Katie’s stomach flip over. At least she wasn’t the one who had to deal with the crowd.

Or pay for it, she thought, wondering how much the wedding had cost her parents. She returned to the bride’s room.

“I look perfect,” Courtney said, turning in front of the mirror and checking out her reflection.

Katie did her best to shake off her irritation at Courtney’s vanity. After all, it was her wedding day, and it was only a few hours, she reminded herself. She would get through this because Courtney was her sister. But then it would be over and she could escape back to her regularly scheduled life.

“Everyone is waiting,” Janis said as she entered the room. “Courtney, you look lovely. Your father is right here. Let’s go.”

Courtney adjusted her veil, picked up her flowers and smiled. “Hasn’t this been the best weekend ever? Everything has been perfect, Mom. Alex and I really appreciate how you’ve made it so romantic.”

“You’re welcome.”

Her mother took Katie’s arm and pulled her out of the room.

“Thanks for all your help,” Janis said. “I couldn’t have gotten through this without you. I keep telling myself that in a few hours, this will all be over.”

“That’s what I was thinking. I swear, when I get married, I’m going to elope. Or have no more than fifty people.”

“Your father and I will spend exactly the same on your wedding as we spent on your sister’s.”

Katie grinned at her mom. “Can I have the cash instead?”

Her mother hugged her. “With interest.”

* * *

The ceremony was beautiful and went off smoothly. At the reception, the first dance made everyone sigh, the food was perfect and the cake had a place of honor in the corner.

The bride and groom had decided against a head table. Instead there was a special table just for them—under a fabric-draped archway, with twinkling lights.

Jackson pulled Katie close, moving in time with the music. “Would you be mad if I asked how much longer we have to stay?”

She grinned up at him. “No, because I already have an answer. Fifty-seven minutes. I promised my mom we’d be here until nine-thirty. Then we’re free.”

“Good. Your room or mine?”

She tilted her head as she considered the question. The soft light spilled onto her beautiful face, illuminating the light dusting of freckles, the shape of her mouth and the humor in her eyes.

“Your room,” she said at last. “Mostly because no one will look for me there.”

“You’re saying I’m little more than an excuse.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not at all.”

She laughed, and he felt the sound clear down to his gut. The sense of rightness he felt when he was around her had only grown.

His mother’s words still lingered, making him aware that he would have to tread carefully. He wanted to make it clear to Katie and everyone else that she was important to him. He wasn’t playing games. She was the one and he intended to have her.

Courtney came up and tapped Katie on the shoulder. “I’m going to throw the bouquet. I’m going to throw it directly at you. You know, for luck.” Then Courtney hugged her. “I love you, Katie.”

“I love you, too.”

Courtney released her and glanced at Jackson. “Thanks for coming to my wedding.”

“I thought you hated me.”

She giggled the laugh of the very tipsy. “Don’t be silly. Although you’d better be careful with my sister. I know all about you.”

“What does that mean?” he asked.

Courtney turned her attention back to Katie. “I can tell you really like him. I mean, he’s an arranged date and all but he’s been nice. Still, be careful. You know how things go with guys. You’re not very lucky.”

Katie’s expression went blank. Obviously she was really great at hiding her feelings.

Jackson wasn’t willing to just take Courtney’s crap anymore. “Listen,” he began.

Courtney’s eyes narrowed. “No. You listen. You slept with Ariel. She told me. So don’t you hurt my sister. Come on.” Courtney grabbed her sister’s arm. “I’m throwing the bouquet.”

Katie slipped away before he could stop her.

Jackson stood in the middle of the dance floor, watching the woman he loved being led away.

He hadn’t slept with Ariel, at least, not in a very long time. Surely Katie knew that. She had to understand Courtney was lying or misrepresenting the truth. Or Ariel was. Katie had to know how much she meant to him. That he would never do anything to hurt her.

“Is everything all right?” his mother asked.

“Fine.”

“Katie looked upset.”

He had to fix this, he thought grimly. But how? There had to be some way to convince her that she was…

He put his hands on his mother’s shoulders. “I need you to get Courtney to hold off on throwing the bouquet.”

“What?”

“She’s going to do it any second. I need you to get them to delay.”

“For how long?”

“Until I’m back.” He headed for the door.

“Howie—”

He turned around. “Mom, you have to stop calling me that. I’ll explain everything as soon as I can. Just help me.”

“All right. But I don’t know what I’m going to say.”

“You’ll think of something.”

* * *

“This is stupid,” Courtney said, sipping champagne and pacing by the edge of the ballroom. “I want to throw the bouquet and get on with my life.”

“Mom and Tina were really clear. They want us to wait.”

“Fine. But only five more minutes. Then I’m doing what I want.”

And damn the consequences, Katie thought wryly. Courtney had her moments of caring about other people. Unfortunately they were widely spaced.

“I’m hope you know I said what I did for your own good,” Courtney said.

Katie stared at her blankly. “What are you talking about?”

“Jackson and Ariel. Did you look at her? You don’t have a shot. I know that sounds cruel, but it’s true. Better that you get over him now than he breaks your heart.”

Katie told herself she would sleep better if she assumed the best about her sister. “I appreciate the warning, but Jackson and Ariel aren’t together. They didn’t sleep together.”

Courtney’s eyes widened. “Of course they did. Both nights.”

“No,” Katie said calmly. “They couldn’t have. Jackson was with me.”

Courtney flushed. Her mouth opened and closed. “Ariel said they did. She said she was telling me because she knew how much I loved you and thought someone should warn you. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you.” Her expression cleared. “I’m glad it’s not true.”

Katie couldn’t have been more surprised if the stemware started talking. “Um, me, too.”

Courtney hugged her. “Now I really want you to catch my bouquet.”

Still feeling slightly stunned, Katie got halfway across the dance floor when she heard Jackson call her name.

She stopped, her heart pounding hard in her chest. Love filled her. Love and hope and the knowledge that this man was the one. She turned toward him.

“Hi.”

“I didn’t sleep with Ariel.”

He looked serious and worried, as if he’d genuinely been concerned. Which was exactly like him.

“I know.”

“I wasn’t even tempted.”

“I believe you.”

There were guests all around them. A few were pretending they weren’t listening while others moved in closer.

Jackson pushed up his glasses as he stared at her. “I know this is fast and maybe a little crazy, but, Katie McCormick, you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. You’re who I’ve been waiting for. It kills me that our moms were right, but we’re going to have to live with that. At least I’m hoping we will. I love you.”

Maybe there was other noise in the room. Music from the orchestra, a gasp or two, but all she heard were his words. Magical words that made her feel as if she could float.

“I’ve loved you from the second I saw you,” he continued. “It’s okay if you have to think about it, but please don’t tell me no.”

Then Jackson Kent, the most devastatingly handsome, sexy, wonderful man she’d ever known, dropped to his knee and held out a diamond ring.

“Katie, will you marry me?”

A thousand thoughts flashed through her mind. That if this was a dream, she never, ever wanted to wake up. That she hadn’t known it was possible to love anyone as much as she did right now. That her sister was going to want to kill her. But mostly that every fiber of her being begged her to accept.

She crossed to him and crouched in front of him. After cupping his face in her hands and allowing herself to get lost in his green eyes, she smiled.

“Yes.”

The room erupted in cheers and applause. Jackson stood, drawing her to her feet, then he pulled her close and kissed her.

“I love you,” he whispered against her mouth.

“I love you, too. From that first second.”

He pulled back long enough to put the ring on her finger. She stared at the massive diamond.

“Were you just carrying this around? Random diamonds in case you wanted to get married?”

“I got the hotel manager to get the jewelry store guy to open for me. We can get you something different, if you want. Maybe a little diamond football helmet or baseball.”

She laughed. “This one is perfect. Just like you.”

He swung her around, then kissed her again. “Not perfect. Just very, very lucky.”

Katie hugged him. Over his shoulder, she saw her mother and Tina both dabbing at tears. Courtney hung on to Alex and waved her flowers.

Katie drew back slightly. “About the wedding,” she began.

“I was thinking we’d elope.”

“You read my mind.”

FINDING PERFECT

SUSAN MALLERY

CHAPTER ONE

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN she left me the embryos? I’m supposed to get the cat.” Pia O’Brian paused long enough to put her hand on her chest. The shock of hearing the details of Crystal’s will had been enough to stop the strongest of hearts, and Pia’s was still bruised from the loss of her friend.

She was relieved to find her heart still beating, although the speed at which her heart was pumping was disconcerting.

“It’s the cat,” she repeated, speaking as clearly as possible so the well-dressed attorney sitting across from her would understand. “His name is Jake. I’m not really a pet person, but we’ve made peace with each other. I think he likes me. It’s hard to tell—he keeps to himself. I guess most cats do.”

Pia thought about offering to bring in the cat so the lawyer could see for herself, but she wasn’t sure that would help.

“Crystal would never leave me her babies,” Pia added with a whisper. Mostly because it was true. Pia had never had a maternal or nurturing thought in her life. Taking care of the cat had been a big step for her.

“Ms. O’Brian,” the attorney said with a brief smile, “Crystal was very clear in her will. She and I spoke several times as her illness progressed. She wanted you to have her embryos. Only you.”

“But I…” Pia swallowed.

Embryos. Somewhere in a lab-like facility were frozen test tubes or other containers and inside of them were the potential babies her friend had so longed for.

“I know this is a shock,” the lawyer, a fortysomething elegant woman in a tailored suit, said. “Crystal debated telling you what she’d done. Apparently she decided against letting you know in advance.”

“Probably because she knew I’d try to talk her out of it,” Pia muttered.

“For now, you don’t have to do anything. The storage fees are paid for the next three years. There’s some paperwork to be filled out, but we can take care of it later.”

Pia nodded. “Thank you,” she said and rose. A quick glance at her watch told her she was going to have to hurry or she would be late for her ten-thirty appointment back at her office.

“Crystal picked you for a reason,” the attorney said as Pia walked toward the door.

Pia gave the older woman a tight smile and headed for the stairs. Seconds later, she was outside, breathing deeply, wondering when the world was going to stop spinning.

This was not happening, she told herself as she started walking. It couldn’t be. What had Crystal been thinking? There were dozens of other women she could have left the embryos to. Hundreds, probably. Women who were good with kids, who knew how to bake and comfort and test for a fever with the back of their hands.

Pia couldn’t even keep a houseplant alive. She was a lousy hugger. Her last boyfriend had complained she always let go first. Probably because being held too long made her feel trapped. Not exactly a sterling quality for a potential parent.

Her stomach felt more than a little queasy. What had Crystal been thinking and why? Why her? That’s what she couldn’t get over. The fact that her friend had made such a crazy decision. And without ever mentioning it.

Fool’s Gold was the kind of town where everyone knew everyone else and secrets were hard to keep. Apparently Crystal had managed to break with convention and keep some huge information to herself.

Pia reached her office building. The first floor of the structure held several retail businesses—a card store, a gift shop with the most amazing fudge and Morgan’s Books. Her office was upstairs.

She went through the plain wooden door off the side street and climbed to the second story. She could see a tall man standing by her locked office door.

“Hi,” she called. “Sorry I’m late.”

The man turned.

There was a window behind him, so she couldn’t see his face, but she knew her schedule for the morning and the name of the man who was her next appointment. Raoul Moreno was tall, with huge shoulders. Despite the unusually cool September day, he hadn’t bothered with a coat. Instead he wore a V-neck sweater over dark jeans.

A man’s man, she thought unexpectedly. Which made sense. Raoul Moreno was a former professional football player. He’d been a quarterback with the Dallas Cowboys. After ten years in the game, he’d retired on top and had disappeared from public view. Last year he’d shown up in Fool’s Gold for a pro-am charity golf tournament. For reasons she couldn’t figure out, he’d stayed.

As she got closer, she took in the large dark eyes, the handsome face. There was a scar on his cheek—probably from protecting an old lady during a mugging. He had a reputation for being nice. Pia made it a rule never to trust nice people.

“Ms. O’Brian,” he began. “Thanks for seeing me.”

She unlocked her office door and motioned for him to go inside.

“Pia, please. My ‘Ms. O’Brian’ years are looming, but I’m not ready for them yet.”

He was good-looking enough that she should have been distracted. Under other circumstances, she probably would have been. But at the moment, she was too busy wondering if the chemo treatments had scrambled Crystal’s brain. Her friend had always seemed so rational. Obviously that had been a facade.

Pia motioned to the visitor chair in front of her desk and hung her coat on the rack by the door.

Her office was small but functional. There was a good-size main room with a custom three-year calendar covering most of one wall. The squares were half dry-erase material and half corkboard.

Posters for various Fool’s Gold festivals took up the rest of the wall space. She had a storage room and a half bath in the rear, several cabinets and a filing system that bordered on compulsively organized. As a rule she made it a point to visit rather than have people come to her, but scheduling-wise, having Raoul stop by had made the most sense.

Of course that had been before she’d found out she’d been left three very frozen potential children.

She crossed to the small refrigerator in the corner. “I have diet soda and water.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You’re not the diet type.”

One dark eyebrow rose. “Are you asking or telling?”

She smiled. “Am I wrong?”

“Water’s fine.”

“I knew it.”

She collected a bottle and a can, then returned to her desk. After handing him the bottle, she took a seat and stared at the yellow pad in front of her. There was writing on it, very possibly in English. She could sort of make out individual letters but not words and certainly not sentences.

They were supposed to have a meeting about something. That much was clear. She handled the city festivals in town. There were over a dozen civic events that she ran every year. But her mind didn’t go any further than that. When she tried to remember why Raoul was here, she went blank. Her brain was filled with other things.

Babies. Crystal had left her babies. Okay, embryos, but the implication was clear. Crystal wanted her children to be born. Which meant someone was going to have to get them implanted, grow them and later give birth. Although that was terrifying enough, there was also the further horror of raising them.

Children weren’t like cats. She knew that much. They would need more than dry food, a bowl of water and a clean litter box. A lot more.

“Oh, God, I can’t do this,” she whispered.

Raoul frowned. “I don’t understand. Do you want to reschedule the meeting?”

Meeting? Oh, right. He was here for something. His camp and he wanted her to…

Her mind went blank, again. Right after the merciful emptiness, there was panic. Deep to the bone, intestine-wrenching panic.

She stood and wrapped her arms around her midsection, breathing hard and fast.

“I can’t do this. It’s impossible. What was she thinking? She had to know better.”

“Pia?”

Her visitor rose. She turned to tell him that rescheduling was probably a good idea when the room began to spin. It turned and turned, darkening on the edges.

The next thing she knew, she was in her chair, bent over at the waist, her head between her knees with something pressing down on the back of her neck.

“This is uncomfortable,” she said.

“Keep breathing.”

“Easier said than done. Let go.”

“A couple more breaths.”

The pressure on the back of her neck lessened. Slowly, she straightened and blinked.

Raoul Moreno was crouched next to her, his dark eyes cloudy with concern. She took another breath and realized he smelled really good. Clean, but with a hint of something else.

“You all right?” he asked.

“What happened?”

“You started to faint.” Raoul met her gaze as her eyes widened, and, despite the bigger things crowding her thoughts, she couldn’t miss the zing of interest.

She blinked, and shook her head. “I don’t faint. I never faint. I—” Her memory returned. “Oh, crap.” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m so not ready to be a mother.”

Raoul moved with a speed that was a credit to his physical conditioning and nearly comical at the same time.

“Man trouble?” he asked cautiously from a safer few inches away.

“What?” She lowered her hands. “No. I’m not pregnant. That would require sex. Or not. Actually it wouldn’t, would it? This is so not happening.”

“Okay.” He sounded nervous. “Should I call a doctor?”

“No, but you can go if you want. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “Are you commenting on my appearance?”

He grinned. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“That sounded almost critical.”

“You know what I meant.”

She did. “I’m okay. I’ve had a bit of a shock. A friend of mine died recently. She was married to a guy in the army. Before he was shipped off to Iraq, they decided to do in vitro, just in case something happened to him. So she could have his kids.”

“Sad, but it makes sense.”

She nodded. “He was killed a couple of years ago. She took it really hard, but after a while, she decided she would have the babies. At least a part of him would live on, right?”

Pia rose and paced the length of the office. Moving seemed to help. She took a couple of cautious breaths, to make sure she was going to stay conscious. Fainting? Impossible. Yet the world really had started to blur.

She forced herself back to the topic at hand.

“She went to the doctor for a routine physical,” she continued. “They discovered she had lymphoma. And not the good kind.”

“There’s a good kind?”

She shrugged. “There’s a kind that can usually be cured. She didn’t have that one. And then she was gone. I have her cat. I thought I’d be keeping him. We have a relationship. Sort of. It’s hard to tell with a cat.”

“They keep to themselves.”

There was something about the way he spoke. She glared at him. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No.”

She saw the corner of his mouth twitch. “Don’t mess with me,” she told him. “Or I’ll talk about my feelings.”

“Anything but that.”

She returned to her desk and sank into the chair. “She didn’t leave me the cat. She left me the embryos. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what she was thinking. Babies. God—anyone but me. And I can’t ignore it. Them. That’s what the attorney hinted at. That I could let it go for a while because the ‘fees’ are paid for three years.” She looked at him. “I guess that’s the frozen part. Maybe I should go see them.”

“They’re embryos. What’s there to see?”

“I don’t know. Something. Can’t they put them under a microscope? Maybe if I saw them, I would understand.” She stared at him as if he had the answer. “Why did she think I could raise her children?”

“I’m sorry, Pia. I don’t know.”

He looked uncomfortable. His gaze lingered on the door. Reality returned and with it, a sense of embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, standing. “We’ll reschedule. I’ll compose myself and be much better next time. Let me look over my calendar and give you a call.”

He reached for the door handle, then paused. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”

No, she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure of anything. But that wasn’t Raoul’s problem.

She forced a smile. “I’m great. Seriously, you should go. I’m going to call a couple of girlfriends and let them talk me down.”

“Okay.” He hesitated. “You have my number?”

“Uh-huh.” She wasn’t sure if she did, but she was determined to let him escape while she still had a shred of dignity. “The next time you see me, I’ll be professionalism personified. I swear.”

“Thanks. You take care.”

“Bye.”

He left.

When the door closed, she sank back into her chair. After lowering her arms to the desk, she rested her head on them and did her best to keep breathing.

Crystal had left her the embryos. There were only two questions that mattered. Why, and what the hell was Pia supposed to do now?

* * *

RAOUL ARRIVED AT RONAN Elementary shortly before two. He parked in the lot by the playground. No surprise—his was the only Ferrari in the parking lot. He was a guy who liked his toys, so sue him.

Before he could climb out of the car, his cell phone rang. He checked his watch—he had a few minutes before he was due inside—then the phone number on the screen. As he pushed the talk button, he grinned.

“Hey, Coach.”

“Hey, yourself,” Hawk, his former high school football coach, said. “Nicole hasn’t heard from you in a while and I’m calling to find out why.”

Raoul laughed. “I talked to your beautiful wife last week, so I know that’s not why you’re calling.”

“You got me. I’m checking on you. Making sure you’re moving on with your life.”

That was Hawk, Raoul thought with equal parts frustration and appreciation. Cutting right to the heart of what was wrong.

“You had some bad stuff happen,” the older man continued. “Don’t wallow.”

“I’m not wallowing. I’m busy.”

“You’re in your head too much. I know you. Find a cause. Get personally involved in your new town. It’ll distract you. You can’t change what happened.”

Raoul’s good humor faded. Hawk was right about that. The past couldn’t be undone. Those who were gone stayed gone. No amount of bargaining, no sum of money, made it better.

“I can’t let it go,” he admitted.

“You’ll have to. Maybe not today, but soon. Believe in the possibility of healing, Raoul. Open yourself up to other people.”

It seemed impossible, but he’d been trusting Hawk for nearly twenty years. “I’ll do my best.”

“Good. Call Nicole.”

“I will.”

They hung up.

Raoul sat in his car for a few more seconds, thinking about what Hawk had told him. Get involved. Find a cause. What the other man didn’t know was how much Raoul wanted to avoid that. Getting involved is what had caused the problem in the first place. Life was much safer lived at a distance.

He got out of his car and collected the small duffel he’d brought with him. Whenever he visited a school, he brought a few official NFL footballs and player cards. It made the kids happy, and that’s why he was here. To entertain and maybe slip in a little motivation when they weren’t looking.

He glanced at the main school building. It was older but well-kept. He usually spoke to high-school-aged kids, but the principal and class teacher had both been persistent to the point of stalking. He was new to small-town life and was figuring out the rules as he went. As he planned to settle in Fool’s Gold permanently, he’d decided to err on the side of cooperation.

He stepped toward the main walkway, then made his way into the building. Unlike the inner-city schools he usually visited, there weren’t any metal detectors or even a guard. The double doors stood open, the halls were wide and well-lit, the walls free of graffiti. Like the rest of Fool’s Gold, the school was almost too good to be true.

He followed the signs to the main office and found himself in a big open area with a long counter. There were the usual bulletin boards with flyers for book drives and after-school programs. A dark-haired woman sat at a desk, typing on an ancient-looking computer.

“Morning,” he said.

The woman—probably in her midthirties—looked up. Her mouth fell open as she stood and waved her hands. “Oh, God. You’re here. You’re really here! I can’t believe it.” She hurried toward him. “Hi. I’m Rachel. My dad is a huge fan. He’s going to die when he finds out I met you.”

“I hope not,” Raoul said easily, pulling a card out of the bag and reaching for a pen.

“What?”

“I hope he doesn’t die.”

Rachel laughed. “He won’t, but he’ll be so jealous. I heard you were coming. And here you are. This is just so exciting. Raoul Moreno in our school.”

“What’s your dad’s name?”

“Norm.”

He signed the card and passed it to her. “Maybe this will help him deal with his disappointment.”

She took the paper reverently and placed a hand on her chest. “Thank you so much. This is wonderful.” She glanced at the clock, then sighed. “I suppose I have to take you to Mrs. Miller’s class now.”

“I should probably get started talking to the kids.”

“Right. That’s why you’re here. It’s been wonderful to meet you.”

“You, too, Rachel.”

She came out from behind the counter, then led him back into the hallway. As they walked, she chatted about the school and the town, all the while glancing at him with a combination of appreciation and flirtatiousness. It came with the territory and he’d learned a long time ago not to take the attention seriously.

Mrs. Miller’s class was at the end of the hall. Rachel held the door open for him.

“Good luck,” she said.

“Thanks.”

He entered the room alone.

There were about twenty young kids, all staring wide-eyed, while their teacher, an attractive woman in her forties, fluttered.

“Oh, Mr. Moreno, I can’t thank you enough for speaking with us today. It’s such a thrill.”

Raoul smiled. “I’m always happy to come talk to kids in school.” He glanced at the class. “Morning.”

A few of the students greeted him. A few more looked too excited to speak. At least the boys did. Most of the girls didn’t seem impressed at all.

“Fourth grade, right?” he asked.

A girl with glasses in the front row nodded. “We’re the accelerated group, reading above grade level.”

“Uh-oh,” he said, taking an exaggerated step back. “The smart kids. You going to ask me a math question?”

Her mouth curved into a smile. “Do you like math?”

“Yeah, I do.” He looked up at the class. “Who here really likes school a lot?”

A few kids raised their hands.

“School can change your life,” he said, settling one hip on the teacher’s desk. “When you grow up, you’re going to get jobs and work for a living. Today most of your responsibilities are about doing well in school. Who knows why we need to learn things like reading and math?”

More hands went up.

His usual talk was on staying motivated, finding a mentor, making a better life, but that seemed like a little much for the average nine-year-old. So he was going to talk about how important it was to like school and do your best.

Mrs. Miller hovered. “Do you need anything?” she asked in a whisper. “Can I get you something?”

“I’m good.”

He turned his attention back to the students. The girl in the front row seemed more interested in the pretty scenery outside of the window. Oddly enough, she reminded him of Pia. Maybe it was the brown curly hair, or her obvious lack of interest in him as a person. Pia hadn’t gushed, either. She’d barely noticed him. Not a real surprise, given how her morning had started. But he’d noticed her. She’d been cute and funny, even without trying.

He returned his attention to the students, drew in a breath and frowned. He inhaled again, smelling something odd.

If this had been a high school, he would have assumed an experiment gone bad in the science lab or a batch of forgotten cookies in home ec. But elementary schools didn’t have those facilities.

He turned to Mrs. Miller. “Do you smell that?”

She nodded, her blue eyes concerned. “Maybe something happened in the cafeteria.”

“Is there a fire?” one of the boys asked.

“Everyone stay seated,” Mrs. Miller said firmly as she walked toward the door.

She placed a hand on it before slowly pulling it open. As she did, the smell of smoke got stronger. Seconds later, the fire alarms went off.

She turned to him. “It’s only the second day of school. We haven’t practiced what to do. I think there really is a fire.”

The kids were already standing up and looking scared. He knew they weren’t very far from panic.

“You know where we’re supposed to go?” he asked. “The way out?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” He turned to the students. “Who’s in charge here?” he asked in a voice loud enough to be heard over the bells.

“Mrs. Miller,” someone yelled.

“Exactly. Everyone get in line and follow Mrs. Miller as we go into the hall. There are going to be a lot of kids out there. Stay calm. I’ll go last and make sure you all get out of the building.”

Mrs. Miller motioned for her students to move toward the door.

“Follow me,” she said. “We’ll go quickly. Everyone hold hands. Don’t let go. Everything is fine. Just stay together.”

Mrs. Miller went out the door. The children began to follow her. Raoul waited to make sure everyone left. One little boy seemed to hesitate before leaving.

“It’s okay,” Raoul told him, his voice deliberately calm. He reached for the boy’s hand, but the child flinched, as if expecting to be hit. The kid—all red hair and freckles—ducked out before Raoul could say anything.

Raoul went into the hall. The smell of smoke was more intense. Several kids were crying. A few stood in the middle of the hallway, their hands over their ears. The bells rang endlessly as teachers called for their students to follow them outside.

“Come on,” he said, scooping the nearest little girl into his arms. “Let’s go.”

“I’m scared,” she said.

“I’m big enough to keep you safe.”

Another little boy grabbed hold of his arm. Tears filled the kid’s eyes. “It’s too loud.”

“Then let’s go outside, where it’s quieter.”

He walked quickly, herding kids as he went. Teachers ran back and forth, counting heads, checking to make sure no one was left behind.

When Raoul and his group of kids reached the main doors leading outside, the children took off at a run. He put down the girl he’d been carrying and she raced toward her teacher. He could see smoke pouring into the sky, a white-gray cloud covering the brilliant blue.

Students flowed out around him. Names were called. Teachers sorted the groups by grades, then classes. Raoul turned and went back into the building.

Now he could do more than smell smoke. He could see it. The air was thick and getting darker, making it hard to breathe. He went room by room, pushing open doors, checking under the large teacher desks in front, scanning to make sure no one was left behind.

He found a tiny little girl in a corner of the third room he entered, her face wet with tears. She was coughing and sobbing. He picked her up, turned and almost ran into a firefighter.

“I’ll take her,” the woman said, looking at him from behind a mask and grabbing the girl. “Get the hell out of here. The building is nearly seventy years old. God knows what cocktail of chemicals is in the air.”

“There might be more kids.”

“I know, and the longer we stand here talking, the more danger they’re in. Now move.”

He followed the firefighter out of the building. It wasn’t until he was outside that he realized he was coughing and choking. He bent over, trying to catch his breath.

When he could breathe again, he straightened. The scene was controlled chaos. Three fire trucks stood in front of the school. Students huddled together on the lawn, well back from the building. Smoke poured out in all directions.

A few people screamed and pointed. Raoul turned and saw flames licking through the roof at the far end of the school.

He turned to head back in. A firefighter grabbed him by the arm.

“Don’t even think about it,” the woman told him. “Leave this to the professionals.”

He nodded, then started coughing again.

She shook her head. “You went back inside, didn’t you? Civilians. Do you think we wear the masks because they’re pretty? Medic!” She yelled the last word and pointed at him.

“I’m fine,” Raoul managed, his chest tight.

“Let me guess. You’re a doctor, too. Cooperate with the nice lady or I’ll tell her you need an enema.”

CHAPTER TWO

THERE WAS NOTHING LIKE a community disaster to snap a person out of a pity party, Pia thought as she stood on the lawn at the far end of the Ronan Elementary playground and stared at what had once been a beautiful old school. Now flames licked at the roof and caused glass windows to explode. The smell of destruction was everywhere.

She’d heard the fire trucks from her office and had seen the smoke darkening the sky. It had only taken her a second to figure out where the fire was and that it was going to be bad. Now, as she stood on the edge of the playground, she felt her breath catch as one of the walls seemed to shudder before falling in on itself.

She’d always heard people talk about fire as if it were alive. A living creature with cunning and determination and an evil nature. Until now, she’d never believed it. But watching the way the fire systematically destroyed the school, she thought there might be seeds of truth in the theory.

“This is bad,” she whispered.

“Worse than bad.”

Pia saw Mayor Marsha Tilson had joined her. The sixty-something woman stood with a hand pressed against her throat, her eyes wide.

“I spoke with the fire chief. She assured me they’ve gone through every room in the building. No one is left inside. But the building…” Marsha’s voice caught. “I went to school here.”

Pia put her arm around the other woman. “I know. It’s horrible to see this.”

Marsha visibly controlled her emotions. “We’re going to have to find somewhere to put the children. They can’t lose school days over this. But the other schools are full. We could bring in those portable classrooms. There must be someone I can call.” She glanced around. “Where’s Charity? She might know.”

Pia turned and saw her friend standing by the growing crowd of frantic parents. “Over there.”

Marsha saw her, then frowned. “She’s not getting any smoke, is she?”

Pia understood the concern. Charity was several months pregnant and the mayor’s granddaughter. “She’s upwind. She’ll be okay.”

Marsha stared at the destruction. “What could have started this?”

“We’ll find out. The important thing is all the kids and staff got out safely. We can fix the school.”

Marsha squeezed her hand. “You’re rational. Right now I need that. Thank you, Pia.”

“We’ll get through this together.”

“I know. That makes me feel better. I’m going to talk to Charity.”

As the mayor moved off, Pia stayed on the grass. Every few seconds, a blast of heat reached her and with it the smell of smoke and annihilation.

Just that morning she’d walked by the school and everything had been fine. How could things change so quickly?

Before she could figure out an answer, she saw more parents arriving on the scene. Mothers and some fathers rushed toward the children huddled together, protected by their teachers. There were cries of relief and of fear. Children were hugged, then searched for injuries, teachers thanked. The school principal stood by the children, a stack of pages on a clipboard.

Probably the master roster, Pia thought. Given the circumstances, parents would probably have to sign out their kids, so everyone was accounted for.

Two more fire trucks pulled up, sirens blaring. The school fire alarms were finally silenced but the noise was still deafening. People shouted, the truck engines rumbled. A voice over a megaphone warned everyone to stay back, then pointed out the location of the emergency medical vehicles.

Pia glanced in that direction and was surprised to see a tall, familiar man speaking with one of the EMT women. Raoul’s hair was tousled, his face smudged. He paused to cough and despite it all, the man still looked good.

“Just so typical,” she muttered as she crossed the playground and went toward him.

“Let me guess,” she said as she approached. “You did something heroic.”

“You mean stupid,” the medic told her with a roll of her eyes. “It’s a gender thing. They can’t help it.”

Pia chuckled. “Don’t I know it.” She turned to Raoul. “Tell me you didn’t race into a burning building in an attempt to save a child.”

He straightened and drew in a deep breath. “Why do you say it like that? It’s not a bad thing.”

“There are professionals here who know what they’re doing.”

“That’s what I keep getting told. What happened to a little gratitude for risking my life?”

“Odds are, you would have been overcome by smoke, thereby giving the firefighters more work to do instead of less,” the medic told him. She pulled some kind of measuring device off his finger.

“You’re fine,” she continued. “If you have any of the symptoms we talked about, go to the E.R.” She glanced at Pia. “Is he with you?”

Pia shook her head.

“Smart girl,” the medic said, then moved on to the next patient.

“Ouch,” Raoul said. “This is a tough town.”

“Don’t worry,” Pia told him. “I’m sure there will be plenty of women who will want to fawn all over you and coo as you retell your tale of bravery.”

“But you’re not one of them.”

“Not today.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

For a second she didn’t understand the question. Then reality returned. That’s right—he’d witnessed her breakdown earlier in the day. Talk about an emotion dump.

“I meant to call you,” she said, moving beside him as they walked away from the medics. “To apologize. I usually have my meltdowns in private.”

“It’s okay. I’d say I understand, but you’ll probably bite my head off if I do. How about if I tell you I’m sympathetic?”

“I would appreciate that.”

She hesitated, wondering if she was supposed to say more. Or if he would ask. Not that she had anything to say. She was still grasping the reality of her friend’s bequest and hadn’t made a decision about what to do next. Despite the attorney’s promise that she had at least three years before she needed to decide anything, Pia felt the pressure weighing on her.

Not that she was going to discuss her dilemma in front of Raoul. He’d already suffered enough.

“What were you doing here?” she asked. “At the school.”

He’d come to a stop and was staring back at the school. His gaze moved from one firefighter to another. The chief stood on a garden wall about three feet high, yelling out orders to her team.

“Are you worried about the kids?” Pia asked. “Don’t be. I’ve sat through plenty of preparedness meetings. They’re great to attend if you’re having trouble sleeping. Anyway, there’s a plan for each school, and a master list. Attendance is taken daily and sent by computer to the district office. A list of who is out that day is brought to the disaster site. Trust me. Every student is accounted for.”

He looked at her, his dark eyes bright with surprise. “They’re all women.”

“Most teachers are.”

“The firefighters. They’re all women.”

“Oh, that.” She shrugged. “It’s Fool’s Gold. What did you expect?”

He appeared both confused and lost, which on a tall, good-looking guy was kind of appealing. Assuming she was interested, and she wasn’t. If her natural wariness about guys wasn’t enough, Raoul was famous-ish, and she didn’t need the pain and suffering that came with that type. Not to mention the fact that she might soon be pregnant with another couple’s embryos.

A week ago her life had been predictable and boring. Now she was in the running to be a tabloid headline. Boring was better.

“There’s a man shortage,” Pia said patiently. “Surely you’ve noticed there aren’t a lot of men in town. I thought that was why you’d moved here.”

“There are men.”

“Okay. Where?”

“The town has children.” He pointed to the few students still waiting to be picked up. “They have fathers.”

“That’s true. We do have a few breeding pairs, for experimental purposes.”

He took a step back.

She grinned. “Sorry. I’m kidding. Yes, there are men in town, but statistically, we don’t have very many. Certainly not enough. So if you find yourself exceptionally popular, don’t let it go to your head.”

“I think I liked you better when you were having your breakdown,” he muttered.

“You wouldn’t be the first man to prefer a woman in a weakened condition. Full strength, we’re a threat. Being as big and tough as you are, I’d hoped for something more. Life is nothing if not a disappointment. You didn’t answer my question from before. What were you doing here?”

He looked distracted, as if he were having trouble keeping up. “Talking to Mrs. Miller’s fourth-grade class. I speak to students. Usually they’re in high school, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“She probably wanted to spend the hour looking at your butt.”

Raoul stared at her.

She shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

“You’re certainly feeling better.”

“It’s more a matter of not being on the edge of hysteria,” she admitted.

She turned her attention back to the school. It was obviously going to be in ruins when all this was over. “How big is your place?” she asked. “You seem like the mansion type. Could they hold classes in your foyer?”

“I rent a two-bedroom house from Josh Golden.”

“Then that would be a no. They’re going to have to put the kids somewhere.”

“What about the other schools in town?”

“Marsha said they were thinking about bringing in those portable classrooms.”

“Marsha?”

“Mayor Marsha Tilson. My boss. You know Josh Golden?”

Raoul nodded.

“He’s married to her granddaughter.”

“Got it.”

He seemed less stunned now, which probably made him feel better. With the smoke smudges on his face, he looked pretty attractive, she thought absently. Not that he hadn’t been devastatingly handsome before. He was the kind of man who made a woman do stupid things. Thank goodness she was immune. A lifetime of romantic failures had a way of curing a woman of foolishness.

“We should make another appointment,” she said. “I’ll call your office and set things up with your secretary.”

“There you go, assuming again. I don’t have a secretary.”

“Huh. Who sets up your calendar and makes you feel important?” she said with a wink.

He studied her for a second. “Are you like this with everyone?”

“Charming?” She laughed. “As a rule. Just ask around.”

“Maybe I will.”

He was teasing. She knew he was teasing. Yet she felt something. A flicker. Maybe a quiver, down low in her belly.

No way, she reminded herself as she waved and walked toward her car. Especially not with a man like him. Successful, handsome men had expectations. Blonde ambitions. She knew—she read People magazine.

Life had taught her many important lessons. The greatest of which was not to depend on anyone to be there for her. She was a strong, independent woman. Men were optional and right now she was going to just say no.

* * *

RAOUL SPENT THE NEXT hour at the school. The firefighters got the fire under control. The chief had told him they would have a presence for at least the next twenty-four hours, to control any hot spots. Cleanup would start when the remaining structure had cooled and the investigation was complete.

It was the kind of disaster he’d read about in the paper and seen on the news a dozen times over the years. But even the best reporting hadn’t prepared him for the reality of the heat, the destruction and the smell. It would be months, maybe years, before the campus was even close to normal.

The kids had all gone home, as had most of the spectators. Eventually he turned to walk back to his office. His car wasn’t in any danger, but it was blocked in by several fire trucks. He would return later and collect it. In the meantime, the center of town was only about twenty minutes away.

Raoul had grown up in Seattle, gone to college in Oklahoma, and then been drafted by the Dallas Cowboys. He was a big-city kind of guy, enjoying the restaurants, the nightlife, the possibilities. At least he had thought he was. Somewhere along the way, going out all the time had gotten old. He’d wanted to settle down.

“Don’t go there,” he told himself firmly.

Revisiting the past was a waste of time. What was more important was the future. He’d chosen Fool’s Gold and so far he enjoyed small-town life. Walking nearly everywhere was one of the advantages. So was the lack of traffic. His friends had joked that he wasn’t going to have much of a social life, but since his divorce, he hadn’t been that interested, so it was all working out.

He reached his office, a first-floor space on a tree-lined side street. There was a restaurant—the Fox and Hound—around the corner, and a Starbucks nearby. For now, it was enough.

He reached for his keys only to see the lights were already on. He pulled open the door and stepped inside.

The three-thousand-square-foot office was more than he needed, but he had plans to expand. His summer camp was just the beginning. Changing the world would require a staff.

Dakota Hendrix, his lone year-round employee, looked up from her computer. “Were you at the fire? Didn’t you mention you were going to the school?”

“I was there.”

“Did everyone get out okay?”

He nodded and briefed her on what had happened—leaving out the part where he went back to check that all the rooms were empty.

Dakota, a pretty woman with shoulder-length blond hair and expressive eyes, listened carefully. She had a PhD in childhood development and he’d been damn lucky to find her, let alone hire her.

One of the reasons Raoul had moved to Fool’s Gold had been because of the abandoned camp up in the mountains. He’d been able to get it for practically nothing. He’d updated the facility and this past summer End Zone for Kids had opened its doors.

The camp’s mandate was to help inner-city kids be a part of nature—hardly a unique idea, but one that was appreciated by those who lived in the urban center of broken cities. Local kids came as day campers, and the city kids stayed for two weeks at a time.

The initial reports had been favorable. Raoul had an idea to expand the camp into a year-round facility, a challenge Dakota had understood and wanted to take on. In addition to planning and running End Zone, she’d started writing a business plan for the winter months.

“I heard the fire was awful,” she said when he was done. “That there was a lot of damage. Marsha called me a few minutes ago.” She paused. “Marsha’s our mayor.”

He remembered Pia mentioning her. “Why would she call you about the fire?”

“Mostly she was calling about the camp.” This time the pause was longer. “The city wants to know if they can use the camp as a temporary school. Marsha, the head of our board of education and the principal would like to see it first, but they think it would work. The only other place big enough is the convention center. But it’s pretty much booked and the layout isn’t really suitable. The acoustics would be awful—the noise of one class bleeding into another. So they’re very interested in the camp.” She paused for a third time, drew a breath and looked hopeful.

Raoul pulled out a chair and sat across from her. Hawk’s words about getting involved echoed in his head. This was one way to get involved—but from a very safe distance.

“We don’t have classrooms,” he said, thinking out loud. “But we already have all the beds stored so the bunkrooms could be classrooms. They would be small but workable. With the right kind of dividers, the main building could house a dozen or so classrooms.”

“That’s what I thought,” Dakota said, leaning toward him. “There’s the kitchen, so lunch wouldn’t be a problem. The main dining hall could double as an assembly area. No one knows how much is salvageable in terms of desks, but they’re putting out the word to other districts. We should have some solid numbers in the next couple of days. So they can use the camp? I’ll take care of the details and act as liaison.”

“If you’re willing to take that on.” There would be liability issues, but that’s why he had lawyers.

“I am.”

He and Dakota tossed around potential problems and solutions.

“This will give us a lot of practical information about having the camp open all year,” she told him. “Dealing with the weather. We get a lot of snow in the winter. Can we keep the roads open, that sort of thing.”

He chuckled. “Why do I know all those displaced kids will be hoping we can’t?”

She smiled. “Snow days are fun. Did you have them in Seattle?”

“Every few years.” He leaned back in his chair.

“I’ll take care of everything,” she told him. “Earn the big salary you’ve given me.”

“You’re already earning it.”

“I was over the summer. Less so now. Anyway, this is great. The town will be grateful.”

“Will they put me on a stamp?”

The smile turned into a grin. “Stamps are actually a federal thing, but I’ll see what I can do.”

Raoul thought about the kids he’d met that morning. Especially the little redheaded boy who had flinched, as if someone hit him. He didn’t know the kid’s name, so asking about him would be problematic. But once the school reopened, Raoul could do some checking.

He remembered Pia’s teasing comment about moving the school to his house. This was close. It would be moving to his camp.

“Want to drive up to the camp with me?” he asked. “We should go and see what changes have to be made.”

“Sure. If there’s anything more than basic cleanup and refurbishing, I’ll have Ethan meet with us.”

Raoul nodded. Ethan was Dakota’s brother and the contractor Raoul had used to refurbish the camp.

Dakota stood and collected her handbag. “We can have a couple of work parties, for general cleaning and prepping. Pia has a phone-tree list that would make the CIA jealous. Just tell her what you need and she can get you a hundred volunteers in about an hour.”

“Impressive.”

They went out, only to pause on the curb.

“My car is at the school,” Raoul said.

Dakota laughed. “We’ll take my Jeep.”

He eyed the battered vehicle. “All right.”

“You could sound more enthused.”

“It’s great.”

“Liar.” She unlocked the passenger door. “We can’t all have Ferraris in our garage.”

“How about cars built in the past twenty years?”

“Snob.”

“I like my cars young and pretty.”

“Just like your women?”

He got in. “Not exactly.”

Dakota climbed in next to him. “I haven’t seen you date. At least not locally.”

“Are you asking for any particular reason?” He didn’t think Dakota was interested. They worked well together, but there wasn’t any chemistry. Besides, he wasn’t looking to get involved, and for some reason he didn’t think she was, either.

“Just to have something to share when I sit around with my friends and talk about you.”

“A daily occurrence?”

“Practically.” She shifted into First and grinned. “You’re very hot.”

He ignored that. “Pia was saying something about a man shortage. Is that true?”

“Sure. It’s not so bad that teenage girls are forced to bring their brothers to prom, but it’s noticeable. We’re not sure how or when it started. A lot of men left during the Second World War. Not enough came back. Some people attribute it to a rumor that the site of the town is an old Mayan village.”

They drove through town. Dakota took the road that headed up the mountain.

“Mayan? Not this far north,” he said.

“They’re supposed to have migrated. A tribe of women and their children. A very matriarchal society.”

“You’re making this up.”

“Check the facts yourself. In the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, part of the mountain opened up, revealing a huge cave at the base of the mountain. Inside were dozens of solid-gold artifacts—Mayan artifacts. Although there were enough differences between these and the ones found down south to confuse scholars.”

“Where’s the cave now?” He hadn’t seen anything about it in his travels or research.

“It collapsed during the 1989 earthquake, but the artifacts are all over the world. Including at the museum in town.”

Something he would have to go see for himself, he thought. “What do matriarchal Mayans have to do with the man shortage in town?”

She glanced at him, then turned her attention back to the road. “There’s a curse.”

“Did you hit your head this morning?”

She laughed. “Okay, there’s a rumor of a curse. I don’t know the details.”

“That’s convenient.”

“Something about men and the world ending in 2012.”

“Dr. Hendrix, I expected better from you.”

“Sorry. That’s all I know. You might ask Pia. She mentioned something about doing a Mayan festival in 2012.”

“To celebrate the end of the world?”

“Let’s hope not.”

Talk about a crazy history. A Mayan curse? In the Sierra Nevada mountains? And to think he’d been worried that small-town living would be boring.

* * *

PIA CAREFULLY COLLECTED cat food, dishes, cat toys and a bed that Jake had never used. Jo, the cat’s new owner, had said she’d bought a new litter box and litter. After making sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, Pia got the pet carrier out of the closet and opened it.

She expected to have to chase Jake down and then wrestle him into the plastic-and-metal container, but he surprised her by glancing from it to her, then creeping inside.

“You want to go, don’t you,” she whispered as she closed and secured the front latch.

The cat stared at her, unblinking.

Crystal had said he was a marmalade cat—sort of a champagne-orange with bits of white on his chin. Sleek and soft, with a long tail and big green eyes.

She stared back at him.

“I wanted you to be happy. I really tried. I hope you know that.”

Jake closed his eyes, as if willing her to be done.

She picked up the tote holding his supplies in one hand and the pet carrier in the other. She took the stairs slowly, then put Jake and his things in the backseat of her car.

The drive to Jo’s only took a few minutes. She parked in front of the other woman’s house. Before she could get out, Jo had stepped out onto the front porch, then hurried down the steps.

“I’m ready,” the other woman called as Pia got out of her car. “It’s weird. I haven’t had a cat in so long, but I’m really excited.”

Jo opened the back door of the car and took out the carrier. “Hi, big guy. Look at you. Who’s a handsome kitty?”

The cooing singsong voice was nearly as surprising as the words. For a woman who prided herself on running her neighborhood bar with a combination of strict rules and not-so-subtle intimidation, Jo’s sweet baby talk was disconcerting.

Pia collected the tote and followed Jo into her house.

Jo had moved to Fool’s Gold about three years ago and bought a failing bar. She’d transformed the business into a haven for women, offering great drinks, big TVs that showed more reality shows and shopping channels than sports, and plenty of guilt-free snacks. Men were welcome, as long as they knew their place.

Jo was tall, pretty, well-muscled and unmarried. Pia would guess she was in her midthirties. So far Jo hadn’t been seen with a man, or mentioned one from her past. Rumors ranged from her being a mafia princess to a woman on the run from an abusive boyfriend. All Pia knew for sure was that Jo kept a gun behind the bar and she looked more than capable of using it.

Pia stepped into Jo’s and closed the front door. The house was older, built in the 1920s, with plenty of wood and a huge fireplace. All the doors off the living room were closed and a sheet blocked the entrance to the stairs.

“I’m giving him limited access for now,” Jo explained as she walked through to the kitchen. “The sheet won’t work for long, but it should keep him on this floor for a few hours.”

Pia trailed after her.

Jo put the carrier down on the kitchen floor and opened the door. Jake cautiously stepped out, sniffing as he went.

“The house is really big,” Jo explained. “That could scare him. Once he gets to know the place, he’ll be fine.”

“He must have loved my apartment,” Pia murmured, thinking of how small it was.

“I’m sure he did. Cats like upstairs windows. They can see the world.”

Pia set the tote on the counter. “You know a lot about cats.”

“I grew up with them,” Jo said wistfully, then leaned down and petted Jake’s back.

Pia half expected the cat to take off one of Jo’s fingers with his claws. Instead Jake paused to sniff her fingers, then rubbed his head against them.

He’d never done that to her, she thought, trying not to be offended. Apparently being a cat person helped.

Jo set out dry food and water on a place mat in the corner of the kitchen. Jake disappeared into the laundry room. A minute or so later, there was the distinctive scratching sound of litter being moved.

“He found his bathroom,” Jo said happily. “He’s all set. He’ll figure out the rest of it. Come on. Let’s go sit in the living room while he explores. I’ve been working on a new peppermint martini recipe. I’d like it ready for Christmas. You can tell me what you think.”

A martini sounded like an excellent plan, Pia thought, trailing after her friend.

They sat on a comfortable sofa, across from the huge fireplace. Jo poured liquid from a pitcher into a shaker, shook it, then tipped the startlingly pink liquid into two martini glasses.

“Be honest. Is it too sweet?”

Pia took a sip. The liquid was icy cold and tasted of peppermint. It was more refreshing than sweet, with a hint of something she couldn’t place. Honey? Almond?

“Dangerously good,” she admitted. “And I’m driving.”

“You can walk home and get your car in the morning,” Jo told her. Her gaze sharpened. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Pia took another taste of her drink. “Just feeling kind of strange. Giving up Jake and all.”

“I’m sorry,” Jo said. “I didn’t mean to steal your cat.”

“You didn’t. He’s not my cat. I thought we were getting along great, but you’ve had more contact with him in the past five minutes than I’ve had in the last month. I don’t think he likes me.”

“Cats can be funny.”

As if to prove Jo’s point, Jake jumped up on the back of the sofa. He stared at Pia for a moment, then turned his back on her. He dropped gracefully to the seat cushion, stepped onto Jo’s lap, curled up and closed his eyes. As he lay there, he began to purr.

Pia found herself feeling snubbed, which hurt a whole lot more than she would have guessed.

“He never purred for me.”

Jo had begun stroking the cat. Her hand froze. “Did you want to keep him?”

“No. I would say he hates me, but I don’t think he put that much energy into it. I just never thought of myself as giving off the anti-cat vibration.”

“You weren’t raised with pets.”

“I guess.”

Apparently Crystal had made the right choice in leaving her cat with Jo. The only question was why her friend hadn’t given Jo the cat from the start. No, she reminded herself. That wasn’t the only question.

She felt a slight burning in her eyes. Before she could figure out what was going on, tears blurred her vision. She set down her drink and looked away.

“Pia?”

“It’s nothing.”

“You’re crying.”

Pia fought for control, then sniffed and wiped her cheeks. “Sorry. I don’t mean to. I’m feeling all twisted inside.”

“You really can have Jake back. I’m sorry to have upset you.”

Jo sounded earnest and caring, which Pia appreciated. She gulped in a breath. “It’s not the cat. Okay, yes, part of it is he obviously thinks I’m an idiot. It’s just…”

The embryos. She knew that’s what it was. That if she couldn’t get Crystal’s cat to like her, what hope did she have with actual children? Every time she thought of giving birth to her friend’s babies, she started to freak.

She was totally the wrong person. She had no experience, no support system, no nurturing abilities. She couldn’t even bond with a cat.

But she wasn’t ready to talk about that. Not until she’d made up her mind about what to do.

“I miss her,” she said instead, mostly because it was true. “I miss Crystal.”

“Me, too,” Jo said, sliding toward her.

They hugged.

Pia gave in to her tears. Jo held on, patting her back, not saying anything—just being a friend. Oddly enough, Jake stayed where he was, as well. His warm body and the vibration of his purring offered their own kind of comfort.

Pia allowed the caring to heal her, just a little. But even as she started to feel better, somewhere deep inside, she heard the call of three yet-to-be-born children.

CHAPTER THREE

PIA STOOD ON THE SIDEWALK, trying to breathe. The sense of panic was becoming familiar, as was the blurring of the world around her. Determined not to faint, she drew in deep, slow breaths, supporting herself by putting a hand on the brick building.

Think about something else, she commanded herself. Cookies. Brownies. Ice cream.

Chocolate-chip brownie ice cream.

After a few seconds, her vision cleared and she no longer had the sense that she was going to collapse—or run screaming into the bright, warm afternoon. Everything was fine, she told herself. And if it wasn’t, well, she would fake it until it was.

She straightened, determined to return to her normal professional self. She had a meeting and this time she was going to get through it without doing anything to embarrass herself. No one would know that she’d just—

“You okay?”

She looked up into Raoul’s warm, dark eyes. He stood by an open side door she hadn’t noticed. His expression was both wary and concerned, despite which he looked plenty handsome. Which was pretty rude of him, if you asked her. The least he could do was be forgettable. Especially when she was feeling vulnerable.

Slowly, she turned toward the glass windows next to her and held in a groan.

“You saw that?” she asked cautiously.

“The part where you clutched your chest, bent over and nearly passed out?”

Oh, God. Heat burned her cheeks. “Um, that would be it.”

“Yeah, I saw it.”

She wanted to close her eyes and disappear. But that would violate her mature mandate. Instead she squared her shoulders, sucked in a breath and curved her lips into what she hoped was a smile.

“Sorry. I was distracted.”

He motioned for her to step into his office. “It seemed like more than that.”

“It wasn’t,” she lied, firmly clutching her oversize handbag. “So, as you can see, I’m here and ready for our meeting. I have several ideas for linking the camp with existing festivals. Either with a booth, or as a sponsor. A nonpaying sponsor. We force our corporate friends to cough up the big bucks to get their names on a banner, but we’re more forgiving with the nonprofits.”

“Good to know.”

His office was large, with plenty of windows. There were four desks and lots of open space. She glanced around at the blank walls, the few boxes pushed next to a copy machine and the lone visitor chair.

“I guess decorating isn’t in the budget,” she said.

“We’re still settling. Currently, it’s just Dakota and me. We had more people working in the summer, but they were mostly up at the camp. I wanted room to expand.”

“Apparently. It’s nice. I would have expected a few football posters on the wall.”

“They’re not unpacked yet.”

“When you do get them out, they’ll add plenty of color.”

He motioned to a square folding table in the corner.

Once they were seated on the plain chairs, she withdrew a file folder from her bag and set it on the table. She was aware of him sitting close to her but was willing to pretend she wasn’t. One crisis at a time, she told herself.

“In case you haven’t heard,” she began, “Fool’s Gold is the festival capital of California. We have a major event every single month. By major I mean we draw in over five thousand people and we fill at least fifty percent of the hotel rooms. The result is a nice influx of cash for our city.”

She paused. “Do you want this level of detail?”

“Sure. Information is never bad.”

She thought about some of the very tedious city council meetings she’d sat through—especially the budget ones—and knew he was wrong. But she kept that thought to herself.

“Currently tourism is our largest source of income and employment. We’re working to change that. In addition to the existing hospital, we’ll soon have a new facility that will include a trauma center. We also have the university campus. Those three sectors provide a lot of employment, but in this town, service jobs rule. One of the long-term goals of the city is to bring in more high-paying manufacturing jobs, so we’re not constantly exchanging the same tired dollar, week after week. But until that happens, the festivals bring us both jobs and money.”

She opened the folder she’d brought. “In addition to the major festivals, we have smaller events that draw a regional crowd. No ‘heads in beds,’ as the chamber of commerce likes to say. As in no one spends the night. That’s less money for the town, but also less work.”

Raoul took the list of festivals and scanned them. She’d marked the ones that would get the most family interest.

“If we can come up with a good angle, say a famous football player headlines the right event, we can draw some media attention,” she said. “I’m guessing we can get TV here based on your celebrity, but it would be nice if we could find a good tie-in and maybe get on one of the morning shows.”

“Bringing money to the town and donations and sponsorship to the camp?” he asked.

“Exactly.”

This was good. Focusing on work helped her stay calm. Because if she thought about that morning…

Without warning, the trembling began again. Her chest got tight and she had to consciously deepen her breathing.

Raoul glanced at her over the papers. “You okay?”

She nodded because speaking seemed iffy at best.

He dropped the sheets. “What’s going on?”

“Could I have some water?” she managed.

He stood and crossed to a small refrigerator. After collecting a bottle, he returned to the table and handed it to her.

“Thanks.”

“What’s going on?” he asked again as he settled across from her. He took her free hand in his and lightly pressed his fingers to the inside of her wrist.

The contact was light, yet warm. She felt something. A little tingly sensation. Right. Because she had time for that now.

“Your pulse is way too fast,” he announced. “You’re upset about something.”

The tingling disappeared. She snatched back her hand and opened the water.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Is it about the embryos?”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “I went to see them this morning.”

“How?”

“I drove to the lab and asked if I could see them.” She opened her eyes and sighed. “They said no.”

“Did that surprise you?”

“A little. I knew they were small but I thought maybe I could peek at them through a microscope or something.” She shifted in her seat, trying not to remember the incredulous look the lab guy had given her. As if she were an idiot.

“Apparently that’s not possible without thawing them. And if they’re thawed without being implanted, they die.” She drew in a breath. “When I explained why I wanted to see them, he gave me a bunch of info on IVF.”

“You told him about your friend?”

“Uh-huh. Then I read the material.” She pressed a hand to her stomach, hoping to ward off another wave of nausea. “Apparently the body has to be prepared.” She set the bottle on the table and used her fingers to indicate air quotes. “Which takes a whole lot more than a stern talking-to. An assortment of hormones are sent into my body. After that, there’s the implantation procedure.” She swallowed. “I won’t get into detail.”

“I appreciate that.”

She managed a slight smile. “Then you wait. Or I wait. In two weeks, I take a pregnancy test. With luck, there are babies.”

She felt the panic surging inside of her again. “I don’t understand. Why would she trust me with her children? Do you know that Jake can purr? He gets all fluffy and relaxed and purrs.”

“Jake’s a cat?” Raoul asked cautiously.

“Yes. I’ve had him over two months. He never purred for me. He barely even looked at me. Then he goes to Jo’s and purrs like his life depended on it. Which maybe to him it did.”

She shook her head. “I don’t get it. Crystal wanted those kids more than anything. After her husband was deployed to Iraq, she talked about getting pregnant when he got home. I went shopping with her and we looked at nursery furniture. She was so excited. After Keith died, she was still determined to be a mother. But that didn’t happen. Now I’m supposed to raise her children? And the whole in vitro thing. It’s not a hundred percent. Some or all of the embryos might not take. Which is a polite way of saying they’ll die. What if that’s my fault? What if there’s something wrong with me? What if they’re the same as Jake and they just plain don’t like me enough to hang on?”

She could feel herself slipping past panic and into full-on terror. She glanced at Raoul to see if he’d completely freaked out, only to find him staring at her. Intense staring, she thought, feeling a little awkward and exposed.

“TMI?” she asked softly. “Too much information?”

“You said Keith and Crystal.”

She nodded.

“Keith Westland?”

Now it was her turn to stare. “Yes. How did you know?”

He stood and walked the length of the office, then returned to stand in front of her. He was tall enough that it was uncomfortable to stare up at him. She stood.

“Raoul, what’s going on?”

“I know him,” he said flatly. “Knew him. Keith is a pretty common name, but he talked about his wife, Crystal. He talked about this town. That’s why I came here in the first place. He’s the reason I agreed to play in the celebrity golf tournament last year. I wanted to see where he’d grown up.”

“Wait a minute. How could you know Keith? Crystal never said anything.” Pia was reasonably confident that her friend would have mentioned being friends with someone like Raoul Moreno.

He looked out the window, as if he was remembering a long-ago event. “I was in Iraq. A few players go in the off-season. Just to hang with the troops. Help morale. That kind of thing. We were all assigned a soldier to keep us out of trouble. Keith was mine. We traveled all around the country, to the different bases. We bunked together, got shot at a few times. He saved my ass.”

Raoul rubbed his hands over his face. “That last day, we were heading for the airport. It was a big convoy. The players, a few VIPs, some politicians. There was an ambush. IEDs in the road, a couple of snipers in the hills. Keith was shot.” He shook his head. “I held him while he died. He couldn’t talk, couldn’t do anything but gasp for air. And then he was gone.”

She sank back into her chair. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know.” Crystal hadn’t known, either.

“Reinforcements came and they helped us get home. When I got the invitation to the golf tournament, I came here. I guess to pay my respects to a place Keith had loved. I liked it, so I stayed.”

Pia hadn’t thought there would be any more surprises, but she’d been wrong.

He crouched in front of her. “I wanted to talk to Crystal, but I didn’t know what to say. I knew her husband all of two weeks and I was there when he died. Would that have comforted her?”

She felt his pain and lightly touched his shoulder. “The man she loved had died. I don’t think there was any comfort to be had.”

“I wondered if I’d taken the easy way out. I didn’t want to intrude or get involved.” He smiled faintly. “Now you’re responsible for Keith and Crystal’s babies.”

“Don’t remind me.”

He returned to his chair and stared at her. “You okay?”

“Trying to recover from the latest bombshell.” She winced. “Sorry. Bad word choice. Hearing that you knew Keith, that you were there when he died, feels oddly cosmic. Like the universe wants to make sure I have these babies.”

“You’re reading too much into it.”

“Am I? Don’t you think it’s just a little strange that we’re even having this conversation?”

“No. I moved to town because I met Keith. If he hadn’t been assigned to me, I never would have agreed to do the golf tournament and I wouldn’t be here, having this conversation with you.”

He made sense, but Pia still felt as if she was being pushed into a decision she wasn’t ready to make.

There was so much on the line. The three embryos meant she could have triplets. That was three babies. She had a tiny apartment. How could they all fit?

She grasped the water and held on as if the act of squeezing would prevent her from slipping over the edge. But after hearing about Raoul and Keith, even questioning the act of having the children seemed monumentally selfish.

“You don’t have to decide today,” he reminded her. “Or even this year.”

“I suppose. When I start to freak, I tell myself that I’m focusing on the wrong thing. This isn’t about me. It’s about Crystal and Keith and their children. Who am I to question whether or not I should have their children? Doesn’t that make me a bad person? Shouldn’t I already be on the hormones, buying cribs and reading that Expecting book everyone says is so great? If I was a good person, I wouldn’t be hesitating.”

Raoul stared into Pia’s hazel eyes, amazed by the kaleidoscope of emotions. She was possibly one of the most honest people he’d ever met. Crazy, but honest. Appealing, as well, but thinking she was hot wasn’t exactly appropriate.

Slowly, he took the water from her hands and set it on the table. Then he pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her.

“It’s okay,” he told her.

She stood rigid in his embrace. “No, it’s not.”

He continued to hold on, moving one hand up and down her spine, enjoying the feel of her body next to his. Not that he was going to do anything about it. “Take a deep breath. In and out. Come on. Breathe.”

She did as he requested. A little of the tension eased out of her.

He couldn’t begin to imagine what she was going through. He was thrown by the fact that he’d known Crystal’s husband. For her, the connection was a thousand times more powerful.

Moving his hands to her shoulders, he stepped back far enough to see her face.

“You’re not a bad person,” he said firmly. “A bad person would walk away from the embryos without a second thought. As to taking your time to make the decision, why wouldn’t you? Having Crystal’s babies will change everything about your life. You’re allowed to have a plan.”

“But she’s my friend. I should…”

He shook his head. “No. Crystal didn’t give you a head’s up. This was dumped on you, Pia. Give yourself a break.”

She drew in another breath. “Okay. Maybe.”

Her eyes were large and filled with concern. Her mouth trembled. There was something vulnerable about her. Part of him wondered why Crystal hadn’t warned Pia in advance. Had it been the other woman’s advancing illness or something else? Had she not wanted to give Pia a choice?

Instead of finding an answer, he became aware of them standing very close together. He could feel the warmth of her body, the delicate bones under his fingers. She was tall but still had to look up to meet his gaze. Her curls brushed the backs of his hands. Her lips parted slightly, which made him want to lean in and—

He moved back with the speed that had gotten him signed by the Cowboys, then carefully tucked his hands into his jeans pockets.

Where the hell had that thought come from? Pia wasn’t for kissing. No one here was. He planned to live in Fool’s Gold for a long time. If he wanted entertainment, he would take it somewhere else. Not here. Besides, since Caro, he hadn’t been interested. This was not the time for that to change.

Apparently Pia hadn’t noticed. Instead of being hurt or annoyed, she gave him a smile.

“Thanks. You’ve been great. I’m sorry I keep freaking out on you.”

“You’re dealing with a lot,” he said carefully.

“I know, but this is business. For what it’s worth, I really am a calm, rational person. Professional even. You probably don’t want to take my word for it, but you can ask around.”

He forced a chuckle. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I will, because I believe in worrying early and often. I’d promise to let you speak to my assistant next time, only I don’t have one. And with the fire and all, the town can’t afford to pay for one.”

“I can talk to you, Pia.”

“At least I didn’t faint this time.”

“Improvement.”

She sighed. “You’re nice, aren’t you? I don’t trust nice men.” She winced, then held up a hand. “Don’t take that wrong.”

“There’s a right way?”

“I’m just saying…” She shook her head, then grabbed her bag. “I’ll leave you with the paperwork. We can talk about the festivals and your camp later, if that’s okay. I really need to gather the tattered remains of my dignity and move on. Next time we meet, I swear I’ll be totally calm and rational. You’ll barely recognize me.”

He didn’t want her to go. For reasons he couldn’t explain, he wanted to pull her close again and tell her—

What? What was he going to say? He barely knew her. She had other things to deal with. The meeting didn’t matter.

But the problem wasn’t the meeting, and Raoul knew that. There was something about Pia. About how she got right to the heart of the problem. She was an intriguing combination of determined, vulnerable and impulsive. If she wasn’t careful, life would beat the crap out of her. Only the strong survived, and even they had to take a hit now and again.

Not his problem, he reminded himself. Nor did he want it to be.

“I’ll recognize you,” he told her. “You’re making too much of this.”

“So speaks a man who likely has never been hysterical even once in his entire life.” She met his eyes. “Thanks for being so…nice.”

“Even though it makes you not trust me?”

She winced. “I’m going to regret saying that forever.”

“No. I’m sure you’ll have other, bigger regrets that fill your mind.”

“Ouch. That’s not very encouraging.”

“We all have regrets. Things we want to change or undo. Nothing about today is worth a second of your worry.”

She hesitated. “I thought you’d be different. Cynical. Self-absorbed. You know—a sports star.”

“You should have met me ten years ago.”

Her mouth curved into a smile. “Wild and impetuous?”

“A typical college jock. My high school girlfriend dumped me my freshman year. I spent a few months feeling sorry for myself, healed and returned to my sophomore year only to discover I was a god.”

“Did you perform miracles?”

“I thought I could.”

“I’m glad to know you went through a bad-boy period.”

“Mine lasted several years.”

Right through his signing with the Cowboys and beyond. He’d been on the team just over a year when Eric Hawkins—otherwise known as Hawk—had burst into his hotel room, waking Raoul and the twins he’d been sleeping with.

Hawk had been his high school football coach and mentor. He’d ushered the girls out of the room, nearly drowned Raoul in coffee, then had taken him to the gym for a workout that had no pity on Raoul’s impressive hangover.

But that hadn’t been the worst of it. The really bad part had been the disappointment in Hawk’s eyes. The silence that said he’d expected better.

“What changed you?” she asked.

“Someone I care about had expectations and I let him down.”

“Your dad?”

“Better than my dad. It’s impossible to have nothing to lose when someone loves you.”

She blinked. “That was profound.”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“You saw the light and let go of your bad-boy ways?”

“Pretty much.”

After the workout, Hawk had taken Raoul to the poor side of Dallas, driving past people living out of shopping carts.

“Get over yourself,” was all his former coach had said.

Raoul had gone home feeling like the biggest jerk in the world. The next day he’d moved out of the hotel, bought a house in a normal neighborhood and had started volunteering.

Two years later he’d met Caro at a charity ball, which had proved life wasn’t perfect.

“So you believe people can change,” she said.

“Don’t you?”

“I’m not sure. Does the meanness go away or does it just get covered up?”

“Who was mean to you?”

She sighed. “And here I was supposed to gather up my tattered dignity and just go. You’ve been great. I’ll be in touch, Raoul. Thanks for everything.”

She walked out of the office.

Not sure if he should go after her, he hesitated. Then Dakota stepped in from the back and stared at him.

“Did I hear that right?”

Raoul shifted uneasily. “It depends on what you heard.”

“You knew Keith Westland?”

He nodded.

She crossed toward him and sank onto the chair Pia had used. “I won’t say anything, of course. About you knowing him or the babies. This is a lot to take in. Talk about responsibility. I guess I knew that Crystal would have to leave her embryos to someone, but I never really thought about it. Did Pia know before?”

He remembered his first meeting with her. “I don’t think so. She thought she was getting the cat.”

“Right. She was taking care of Crystal’s cat.” Dakota looked stunned. “What’s with Crystal not warning her? You can’t just leave someone potential children and not even give them a hint. Or maybe she knew Pia would freak and didn’t want to be talked out of it.” Dakota glanced at him. “Is she okay?”

“She’s dealing. She’s surprised Crystal picked her.”

“Really? I’m not. Pia might not be the obvious choice, but she makes sense. She would do the right thing.” Dakota laughed. “After some serious kicking and screaming. Wow—Pia’s going to have Crystal’s babies.”

“She hasn’t decided that yet.”

Dakota glanced at him. “Do you really think she’ll walk away from those babies?”

He shook his head. He couldn’t see it, but then he’d been wrong before.

He took the chair behind the desk. “You and Crystal and Pia all grew up in town together?”

“Oh, yeah. Crystal was a few years older, but she was one of those really nice people who wanted to take care of the world. She worked at the library after school. She was always there to help with school projects.” Dakota wrinkled her nose. “I can’t believe I’m old enough to remember when there wasn’t an Internet.”

“You’re twenty-seven.”

“Practically ancient.” She laughed. “Pia was a grade ahead of me and my sisters, but we knew her. Or at least of her.” Her eyes brightened with humor. “Pia was one of the popular girls. Pretty, great clothes. She had the boyfriends everyone else wanted.”

The humor faded. “Then her dad died and her mom went away. Everything changed for her. Back in high school I would have sworn Pia was taking off for New York or L.A. Instead she stayed here.”

Which meant something had happened to her.

“I guess it’s where she belongs,” Dakota murmured.

“You came back, as well,” he said. “There must be something about this place.”

“You’re right.” She laughed. “Be careful, Raoul. If you stay too long, you’ll never escape.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

But the truth was, he wanted a place to call home. Somewhere that felt right.

There had been a time when he’d wanted it all—a wife and a family. Now he was less sure. Back when he’d married her, he would have sworn he knew everything about Caro. That nothing she did would ever surprise him.

He’d been wrong, and in finding out the truth about what she’d done, a part of him had been destroyed. Pia had asked if he thought people could change. He did, because he’d seen it over and over again. But broken trust was different. Even if it was repaired, it was never the same again. There would always be cracks.

CHAPTER FOUR

ONE OF THE PERKS of her job was that although Pia was a part of city government, she didn’t have to participate in any of the really boring stuff. Sure, once a year she had to present a budget, and she was accountable for every penny. But that was easily done on a good spreadsheet program. When it came to the city council meetings, she was strictly a visitor, not a regular.

So when the mayor called Pia and asked her to attend an emergency session, she found herself feeling a little nervous as she took her seat at the long conference table.

“What’s up?” she asked Charity, the city planner. “Marsha sounded less than calm, which is unusual for her.”

“I’m not sure,” Charity admitted. “I know she wanted to talk about the school fire.”

Which made sense, but why would Pia have to be there for that?

“How are you feeling?” she asked her friend.

Charity was about four months along. “Great. A little puffy, although no one seems to notice but me.” She grinned. “Or they’re lying. I’m good with either option.”

Charity had moved to town in early spring. In a matter of a few weeks, she’d fallen for professional cyclist Josh Golden, gotten pregnant and discovered she was the mayor’s long-lost granddaughter.

Josh and Charity had slipped away for a quiet wedding and were now awaiting the birth of their first child. Marsha was thrilled at the thought of a great-grandchild.

Just another day in Fool’s Gold, Pia thought cheerfully. There was always something going on.

Pia glanced around at the other women at the meeting. There were the usual suspects, along with a few surprises including Police Chief Alice Barns. Why would the police chief need to attend a city council meeting? Nancy East sat close to the front. No doubt the superintendent of schools would have information they all needed.

Before Pia could ask Charity, Marsha hurried in and took her seat at the head of the table.

The mayor was as well-dressed as always. She favored tailored suits and wore her white hair pulled back in a tidy bun.

“Sorry I’m late,” Marsha said. “I was on the phone. Thank you all for coming on such short notice.”

There was a murmur of people saying it was fine.

“We have a preliminary report on the fire,” Marsha said, glancing down at the pages she held. “Apparently it began in the furnace. Because of the unusually cool few days we had earlier in the week, it was turned on before it was serviced. The fire spread quickly, as did the smoke.”

“I heard that no one was hurt,” Gladys said. The older woman had served as the city manager for several years and was currently acting as treasurer.

“That’s true. We had a few minor injuries, but everyone was treated on the scene and released.” Marsha looked at them, her blue eyes dark with concern. “We’re still assessing the damage, but we’re talking millions of dollars. We do have insurance and that will help, but it won’t cover everything.”

“You mean the deductible?” one of the council members asked.

“There’s that, which is sizable enough. But there are other considerations. Books, lesson plans, computers, supplies. As I said, some will be covered, but not everything. The state will offer assistance, but that takes time. Which leads me into the next topic. Where to put all those children? I refuse to let this fire disrupt their education. Nancy?”

Nancy East, a bright, plump woman in her late thirties, opened a notebook in front of her.

“I agree with Marsha—keeping the children in school is our first priority. We considered splitting them up among the other three elementary schools, but there simply isn’t enough room. Even with portable classrooms, the infrastructure can’t support that many additions. There isn’t enough space in the cafeteria or on the playground. There aren’t enough bathrooms.”

Some of the tension in her face eased. “Fortunately, we have a solution. Raoul Moreno has offered his camp. I toured the facility yesterday, and it’s going to work beautifully for us.”

Pia leaned back in her chair. The camp was an obvious choice, she thought. It was big and had plenty of buildings. It was closed in the winter, so they wouldn’t be displacing anyone.

“There are some logistics for our classes,” Nancy continued. “Our maintenance staff is up there right now, figuring out the best configurations. There is a main building where we’ll have assemblies and where the cafeteria will be. Calls have gone out to schools all around the state for extra supplies, including desks, blackboards, dry-erase boards, buses. We’re making an appeal to the commercial suppliers. As Marsha mentioned, the state will be offering some assistance.”

She turned to Pia. “I need your help, Pia.”

“Sure. What can I do?”

“I want to mount a supply drive for this Saturday. We’ll hold it in the park. We need everything from pencils to toilet paper. Our goal is to have the children back in school by Monday.”

Pia remained calm on the outside, but inside there was a very loud shrieky voice. “It’s Wednesday.”

“I know. That’s the challenge. Can you pull something together by Saturday?”

The clear answer was no, but Pia swallowed that. She had a phone tree that rivaled anything created by the government and access to an impressive list of volunteers.

“I can get the word out tonight,” she said. “Beg mention in tomorrow’s paper, along with Friday’s. Do media Friday and get it set up by, say, nine Saturday morning.” Even thinking about it was enough to make her woozy. “I need a list of what you need.”

Nancy had come prepared. She passed a folder to Pia. “If people would rather give money, we won’t say no.”

“Who would?”

Pia flipped open the folder and stared at the neatly typed sheets. The list was detailed and, as Nancy had promised, listed every possible need, from chalk to china. Well, not china, exactly, but dishes for the camp.

“I thought the camp already had a working kitchen,” she said. “Why would they need plates, glasses and utensils?”

“End Zone for Kids housed less than a hundred campers, even with the day campers,” Marsha told her. “We’re sending up close to three hundred.”

“That’s a lot of napkins,” Charity murmured. “I’ll stay after the meeting and you can tell me what I can do to help.”

“Thanks.”

It wasn’t the size of the project that worried Pia, but the speed. She would need a full-page ad in the local paper. Colleen, her contact at the Fool’s Gold Daily Republic, wasn’t going to be happy.

“I need to make a call,” she said, then excused herself.

Once she was in the hall, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed.

“Hi, it’s Pia,” she said.

Colleen was a woman of a certain age—only no one knew exactly what age that was. She was a hard-drinking, chain-smoking newspaper woman who didn’t believe in chitchat and had never met an adjective she didn’t want eliminated.

“What do you want?” Colleen snapped.

Pia sucked in a breath. Talking fast was essential. “A full page tomorrow and Friday. Saturday we’re going to be collecting donations for the school that burned down. For a new school and supplies.”

Damn. Talking to Colleen always made her nervous. The worst part was the other woman didn’t have to say anything to get Pia feeling frantic.

“The kids will be going up to the camp while the burned-out school is repaired. They’ll need everything from books to pencils to toilet paper. I have a list. Money donations are fine, too.”

“Of course they are. Anything else? How about a kidney? I was told I have two. You want I should cut that out and send it along?”

Pia leaned against the wall. “It’s for the children.”

“I’m not competing in any beauty pageant. I don’t have to give a fig about kids or world peace.”

There was a long pause. Pia heard the other woman exhaling smoke.

“Get me the material in fifteen minutes and I’ll do it. Otherwise, forget it.”

“Thanks, Colleen,” Pia said, already running for the fax machine on the second floor.

She made the deadline with eighteen seconds to spare. When the copy and the list of needed supplies had gone through the fax machine, Pia returned to the meeting only to find out they hadn’t actually been as busy as she had.

“Charity, is there any chance you’ve seen Raoul’s butt?” Gladys asked hopefully. “Could you get a comparison?”

Pia sank into her seat. “Yes, Charity. You should ask Raoul for a private showing, and I’d like to be in the room when you do.”

Charity rolled her eyes. “I haven’t seen his butt, I’m not going to ask to see it. As far as I’m concerned, Josh is perfection, and that can’t be improved upon.”

“You’re his wife,” Gladys grumbled. “You have to say that.”

Marsha rose from her chair. “Debating which of our two celebrity athletes is more attractive can be a thrilling way to pass an hour. However, we still have things to discuss. Pia, you got the ad?”

“Yes. Colleen will run the time, the list and all the contact information tomorrow and Friday. I’ll get the phone tree up and running tonight. We’ll set up tables for those who want to host a bake sale or whatever. The usual stuff.”

Marsha passed her a paper. “Here are the local businesses that will be providing drinks and snacks. I told them not to deliver before eight on Saturday.” She glanced around the table. “I would be grateful if those of you with a close and personal relationship with God spoke to Him about the weather. Warm and sunny on Saturday would be best.”

Gladys looked shocked at the request, but everyone else laughed.

Marsha sat back in her seat. “There’s one other item I need to discuss. I was hoping it wouldn’t be an issue, but no such luck. I realize that when compared with the unexpected fire that destroyed the school, this will seem small and unimportant. However, it is going to impact our town and we have to be prepared.”

Pia glanced at Charity, who shrugged. Apparently Marsha hadn’t talked to her granddaughter about the mystery element.

“A few of you may remember Tiffany Hatcher,” Marsha said. “She was a graduate student who came to Fool’s Gold in the spring. Her field of study is human geography. As in why people settle where they do, why they move, etc.”

Pia vaguely remembered a petite, pretty young woman who had been very interested in Josh. As he’d only had eyes for Charity, nothing had come of her flirting.

“I tried to delicately discourage her from writing about the town, but I wasn’t successful,” Marsha continued. “Her thesis is being published. She called to let me know there is a chapter on Fool’s Gold. Specifically about the ongoing shortage of men. She has sent out excerpts of the chapter to many media outlets and there has been, as she so happily put it, interest.”

“No,” Chief Barns said forcefully. “I’m not going to have a bunch of media types mucking up my town and parking where they’re not supposed to. Isn’t there enough real news in the world without them paying attention to us?”

Pia’s thoughts exactly. But she had a bad feeling that a town with a man shortage would be exactly the right kind of story to capture a lot of attention.

“I don’t suppose telling the media we don’t want them here will help,” Charity said.

“If only,” Marsha told her. “I’m afraid in the next few weeks we’re going to have to deal with the problem. And not just the media, either.”

Pia stared at her boss. The mayor nodded slowly.

“When word gets out, we’ll be flooded with men looking for a town full of lonely women.”

“That could be fun,” Gladys said, looking intrigued. “A few of you need a good marrying.”

Pia suspected Gladys meant her, so she was careful to stay quiet. With less than three days to pull together a massive event, getting married or even meeting men was the last thing on her mind. And even if she wasn’t so busy, considering the whole embryo issue, getting involved wasn’t just unlikely, it was impossible.

* * *

SATURDAY MORNING DAWNED perfectly clear. The temperatures were supposed to be in the low seventies. Apparently God had come through, Pia thought as she arrived at the park a little after seven to find work under way.

The city maintenance crew was already setting up the long tables and collection bins. Several signs had been donated by a printer, and ones that had been made by hand were sorted and in place. Pia had drawn up a floor plan of sorts, showing what would be collected where.

Her miracle phone tree had worked perfectly, and she’d heard back from over fifty people with promises of books, supplies and even cash. Liz Sutton, a Fool’s Gold native and a successful author who had recently returned to settle in town, had quietly promised five thousand children’s books to start the library. When Pia had offered to shout about the donation from every rooftop in town, Liz had insisted on being anonymous.

She wasn’t the only one giving big. Local hero Josh Golden had already handed in a check for thirty thousand dollars, again with instructions to keep quiet about him giving it. A cashier’s check for ten grand had arrived in her office the previous morning. Just a plain envelope slipped under the door. No return address and drawn on a busy Sacramento bank, so there was no way of tracing it.

Pia had turned the money over to Nancy, along with a list of what else she knew was being donated.

Now as she sipped her coffee, she went over the events that would happen during the day. The city yard sale would begin at eight. Donations had been delivered the day before, and her volunteers were already sorting through the bounty. To keep things simple, the items would be grouped according to price, at one-, three-, five-and ten-dollar tables.

The bake sale would start at noon, giving the last-minute bakers time to get their goodies finished. The auction was at three, and Pia was still waiting on the list of what would be offered.

Throughout the day, local bands would play, the hospital was offering a mini-clinic for blood pressure checks and the high school senior class was holding a car wash. Pia was less sure about their “Naked for a Cause” theme—even though the class president had sworn that meant bathing suits, not actual nudity, but at this point, she was willing to take every dollar they raised.

By seven-thirty there was a steady stream of volunteers showing up. They checked the master directory Pia had posted and went to their assigned areas. Charity arrived fifteen minutes later, looking pale.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I don’t get sick in the morning much, but today was one of those days. The good news is the guys did a very nice job installing the floor tile.”

Pia winced. “You got a close look at it?”

“For nearly an hour. My knees hurt.” She pressed a hand to her midsection. “Not to mention other parts of me.” She handed Pia a folder. “The final auction info.”

“Thanks for doing this.”

“I’m happy to help. There are some great prizes.” Charity paused. “Is it a prize if you have to buy it?”

“I’m not sure.”

Pia flipped through the list. There were the usual gift cards from local restaurants and shops. She would bundle those into a couple of baskets, so the value was greater. That should up the bidding price. Ethan Hendrix had offered five thousand dollars’ worth of remodeling. There were weekends in Tahoe and up at the ski resort, ski lessons, and a weekend in Dallas compliments of Raoul Moreno. His package included airfare, two nights at Rosewood Mansion on Turtle Creek, dinner at the hotel and two tickets to a Dallas Cowboys home game…on the fifty-yard line.

“There’s some money in that prize,” Pia said, impressed by Raoul’s generosity.

“I know. My eyes nearly bugged out,” Charity said. “The guy’s already donating his camp. That’s more than enough.”

“He’s nice,” Pia said absently. “He can’t help it.”

Charity laughed. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It can be.” Although Raoul had claimed to have a dark past. Something that should have bothered her but instead made him seem more human.

“He’s very good-looking,” Charity told her.

Pia looked at her friend. “Don’t even go there.”

“I’m just saying he’s here, he’s handsome, successful, rich. I don’t think he’s dating anyone. He and his ex divorced a couple of years ago.”

Pia raised her eyebrows. “You’ve been checking up on him?”

“Oh, please. I’m with Josh.”

As if that explained everything. Which it probably did, Pia thought with only a hint of envy. It wasn’t that she’d ever had a thing for Josh, it was more the way he looked at Charity that made Pia feel a little lost and sad. Josh didn’t just adore his wife, he worshipped her. It was as if he’d been waiting his whole life to find her and now that he had, he was never letting her go.

Not that Pia would trust that kind of adoration, but it was nice to think about.

“I’m not interested,” she said firmly.

“How do you know? Have you spent any time with him?”

Pia wasn’t ready to talk about the embryos, but the truth was getting pregnant with them would change everything. Very few men would be interested in raising someone else’s kids. Especially triplets. The thought was beyond daunting. And even if there was a guy like that out there, she knew Raoul wasn’t him.

“We’ve spoken,” Pia said. “Like I said—he’s nice enough. Just not for me.”

She eyed her friend’s belly. Charity was barely showing, but she knew a whole lot more about being pregnant than Pia. But asking anything, as in finding out what it really felt like, meant answering a lot of questions. Pia wasn’t ready for that.

The clock from The Church of the Open Door chimed the hour. Pia glanced at her watch and winced.

“I need to run,” she said. “I have fifteen places I need to be.”

“Go,” Charity told her. “I’ll handle the auction. Don’t even think about it.”

“I won’t,” Pia told her. “Fool’s Gold owes you.”

* * *

BY ELEVEN IT WAS APPARENT the town had come through to support the school. The items brought in for the yard sale had been snapped up, with most people insisting on paying two or three times the posted price. The donation bins were overflowing, as were the tables, and people just kept on coming.

Pia went from area to area, checking on her volunteers, only to discover she wasn’t needed. The event ran so smoothly, she started to get nervous.

Over by the mini food court, she bought a hot dog and a soda, telling the kid manning the cart to keep the change.

“Everyone’s doing that,” he said with a grin, stuffing the extra bills into a large coffee can nearly overflowing. “We’ve had to empty this twice already.”

“Good news,” she said, strolling over to one of the benches and taking a seat.

She was exhausted, but in a good way. Right now, in the middle of a sunny day, surrounded by her fellow citizens, she felt good. As if everything was going to be all right. Sure, the school had nearly burned down, but the town had pulled together and order had been restored. Order had always felt really good to her.

Three boys came running down the path. The one in back, a slight redheaded boy, plopped down next to her and grinned.

“There’s free lemonade over there,” he said, pointing across the park.

“Let me guess. You’ve already had a couple of glasses.”

“How’d you know?”

“I can see the happy glow of sugar in your eyes. I’m Pia.”

“I’m Peter.” He wrinkled his nose. “I go to the school that burned down. Everybody’s doing all this so we can get back to class.”

She held in a smile. “Not your idea of a good time?”

“I like school, I guess.”

Peter looked to be about nine or ten, with freckles and big brown eyes. He was skinny but had a wide smile that made her want to grin in return.

“What would you rather do than go to school?” she asked.

A shadow crossed his face then cleared. “I like to play baseball. I used to play T-ball when I was little.”

“Are you in Little League now?”

He shook his head. “My foster dad says it’s too expensive and takes too much time.”

That didn’t sound good. “Do you like other sports?”

“I like to watch football. They have those funny things they do with their hands. I try to watch what they’re doing, but it’s hard to see.”

“You know they make those up,” she told him. “There’s not just one right way.”

His eyes widened. “For real?”

“Uh-huh. Come on.” She put her soda on the ground and tossed her hot dog foil and napkin in the trash, then she faced Peter. “We’ll make one up now. I’ll do a step, then you do a step.”

She made a fist with her right hand. He did the same. They bumped top and bottom, then fist to fist, followed by an open-palm slap and a back-of-hand bump. He added two finger wiggles, and she ended with a double clap.

“All right!” Peter stood in front of her. “Let’s do it really fast.”

They went through the sequence twice, without a mistake.

“You’re good,” Pia told him.

“You, too.” He glanced down the path and saw his friends. “I gotta go.”

“Okay. Have fun. Don’t drink too much more lemonade.”

He laughed and took off at a run.

Pia collected her drink and stood. It was time to get back to work. As she grabbed her paperwork, she saw Jo crossing the lawn, headed for the auction postings.

Her first thought was to chase after her friend and ask about Jake. Did he seem to miss her? Was he settling in? Then she remembered how the cat had crawled onto Jo’s lap and started purring within ten minutes of arriving at her house. Of course he was doing well.

She turned and ran into someone tall, broad and strong. Jostled soda spilled out of the paper cup and trickled down the front of the man’s shirt.

Pia groaned and raised her eyes only to encounter Raoul’s amused gaze.

“Small-town initiation?” he asked.

“Sorry.” She stepped back and brushed his chest, which proved to be more enjoyable than she would have expected. “It’s diet. It won’t stain or anything.”

“I’m fine.” He took her hand in his and stilled the movement but didn’t release her fingers. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. You’re the one who got doused.”

His touch was light, barely noticeable, yet she couldn’t seem to focus on anything else. His skin was warm. She could feel individual calluses, the power he kept contained.

The power he kept contained? What was this—a bad movie script? Who thought like that?

Apparently her, she realized as she looked back into his eyes and discovered she didn’t want to turn away. Which made her immediately pull free of his hold.

“So, thanks for your donation. It’s very impressive. You really did enough with donating the camp.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” he said easily. “I was happy to help.”

“Good. We should all help, especially now. With the whole burned-down-school thing.”

His dark eyebrows pulled together. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

No way she was going to mention that the feel of his skin on hers had thrown her. Not only was it irrational, a declaration like that put her into the scary-stalker category.

She searched around for another explanation.

“I saw Jo,” she said quickly. “The friend who took the cat?”

He nodded.

“I wanted to ask if Jake missed me, which is dumb, right? He obviously adores her. I was just a way station in the feline road of life. She’s a destination. I just…”

“What?”

“I keep thinking if I can’t make a cat happy, what chance do I have with kids?”

His expression sharpened. “You’re going to have them?”

“Yes. No. I’m not sure.” She sighed. “Maybe. I know that’s what Crystal wanted. And no matter how many times I tell myself they’re not my responsibility, I feel they are. I’m female. I’m going to go out on a limb and assume I have all the working equipment.”

She could do more than assume, she reminded herself. She knew for sure.

Don’t go there, she told herself. Not today. Not now. Wasn’t there enough going on without a side trip to Guilt Land?

“You’ll have someone else’s children and then raise them?” he asked.

“It’s not like I’m going to have them and give them away.”

“Why not?”

She stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“Why wouldn’t you give them away? There are hundreds of couples who are longing for children of their own. Infants are easy to place, aren’t they? You could handpick the couple yourself, be sure the babies are going to be well taken care of.”

That had never occurred to her. Give Crystal and Keith’s babies away? Despite the warm afternoon, a shiver raced through her.

“No,” she said firmly. “If that was what she wanted, she would have mentioned it in the will. Crystal took the trouble to pay for three years of storage. She wanted to give me time.”

“She didn’t warn you about what she was going to do.”

“I know and that confuses me, but it doesn’t change reality. If I have the babies, I’ll keep them. And raise them.” No matter how the thought of it made her stomach flip over and over.

He stared into her eyes as if searching for something. “I don’t know many women who would be willing to take that on.”

“Really? Because I don’t know many who would refuse.”

“You can’t believe that.”

She thought about her friends—how they looked out for each other. “I’m fairly sure.”

“As sure as Crystal was of you? You’re the one she picked.”

“Which raises the question why,” she said with a laugh that was almost real. “Okay—enough personal stuff for today. I have to compulsively check on things, and you need to stand in the sun so your shirt can dry.”

She took off before he could do something really dangerous, like put his arm around her. That would probably get her to babbling like a starstruck fan.

It was the strangest thing. Usually people made her nervous when she first met them. Over time, the feeling went away. With Raoul, it was the complete opposite. She was more tense every time she saw him. At this rate, in a month, just seeing him would send her into catatonic shock. And wouldn’t that give Fool’s Gold something to talk about?

* * *

RAOUL STOOD BY THE main building and watched the kids arrive for their first day of school at his camp. The parking lot was organized chaos as teachers sorted the children into classes.

In less time than he would have thought possible, the camp had been transformed. There were desks and chairs, playground equipment, books, papers and people prepping lunch.

Dakota joined him, a clipboard in hand.

“This is great,” she said. “Like the first day of school, only better.”

“The kids would have probably enjoyed more time off.”

She laughed. “You’re right, but education is important.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Everyone thinks you’re amazing for giving the town this place. Such a nice guy.”

“There are worse things to be.”

She looked surprised. “Most guys don’t want to be nice. It keeps them from getting the girl.”

He’d never had much trouble getting the girl. “A nice guy changed my life. Being like him would make me a happy man.”

Hawk wasn’t a pushover. He was a tough guy who did the right thing. Raoul doubted his old friend would have been fooled by Caro. The irony was Raoul had done his best to make sure he was choosing the right person. But he’d still managed to screw up.

“I need to check with a couple of teachers,” Dakota said and excused herself.

Three more cars pulled up and parked. Pia climbed out of one and waved in his direction.

She wore a dark skirt and boots. Her sweater was the color of her eyes. Not only did he notice, he found himself wanting to walk toward her. Meet her halfway. That image morphed into his mouth on hers, hands everywhere and a whole lot less clothing.

Not a good idea, he reminded himself. Pia was headed in a whole different direction. Besides, he had rules about small towns and the female residents. Pia might tempt him, but making her an exception would be a disaster…for both of them.

“Isn’t this the best?” she asked as she approached. “There was actual traffic coming up the mountain. I love it when a plan comes together.”

A bus pulled up. When the door opened, kids spilled out. One boy, skinny with bright red hair, ran over to Pia.

Raoul recognized him as the kid who had flinched when he’d tried to help the boy out of the smoky classroom. As he watched, Pia and the kid greeted each other with a complicated handshake.

“You remembered!” the boy crowed. “I knew you would.”

“It’s our thing,” Pia told him with a laugh. “You’d better get to class. Have fun.”

“I will.”

He turned and ran off.

“You know him?” Raoul asked.

“Peter?” Pia shook her head. “We met Saturday at the park. He was there with his friends. Why?”

He thought about the smoke-filled classroom. Maybe Peter had been scared of the fire instead of him. Maybe he’d imagined the whole thing.

Even as his gut told him he hadn’t, he knew he wasn’t going to say anything. Not until he had more information.

“I think he was in the class where I was speaking,” he said. “When the fire started.”

“Oh. Maybe. He’s the right age.” She shifted her handbag onto her other shoulder. “What’s your calendar like over the next couple of days? Technically I still owe you a meeting.”

“How about today?”

“What time?”

“Noon. We’ll have lunch.”

She hesitated. “You don’t have to buy me lunch.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I was going to let you pay.”

She laughed. “Oh, well, in that case, sure. We’ll go to the Fox and Hound. They make a mean salad, and you look like a guy who enjoys lettuce.”

“I might surprise you.”

Something flickered in her eyes. As quickly as it appeared, it faded. She nodded.

“You might at that.”

CHAPTER FIVE

PIA LOOKED AT THE HANDSOME man sitting across from her in the restaurant and told herself to focus on business. She was here in a purely professional capacity—not to enjoy the view. Though Raoul was pretty enough to dazzle anyone.

They’d already placed their orders and their drinks had been delivered. Pia had chosen diet soda, with the passing thought that if she went ahead with the pregnancy, she could kiss her artificial-sweetener habit goodbye, at least for nine months.

“You grew up in Seattle, right?” she asked, thinking a little chitchat was in order. She was allowed to be friendly.

“Until college,” he told her.

“I’ve never been, but I’m guessing it’s nothing like Fool’s Gold.”

“It’s a lot bigger and there’s a lot more rain. Seattle has mountains, only they’re not as close.”

“Why didn’t you move back there?”

He flashed her a grin that made her pulse do a little cheer. “Too much rain for me. It’s gray a lot. I like to see the sun.” He picked up his iced tea.

“Is that why you abandoned them during college? You could have gone to the University of Washington.”

“The other offers were better and Coach thought I should get out of the state and see the rest of the country. Except for him and his wife, and my girlfriend, I didn’t have all that much I was leaving behind.”

“What about your family?”

He shook his head. “I never knew my dad. One of my brothers died when I was a kid. He was shot. My mom—” He shrugged. “I spent a lot of years in foster care.”

There was something about the way he said the words. Bad things had happened, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what. “I spent a year in the system,” she admitted. “Here.”

“You?”

“My senior year of high school. My dad died and my mom left to live with her sister in Florida. She said it would be better for me to stay here so I could graduate with my friends, but the truth was she didn’t want to be bothered.” Pia frowned. “I haven’t seen her since. She didn’t come back for my graduation and she made it clear I wasn’t welcome there. So I stayed. Went to community college for a couple of years before transferring to a four-year university. Got a job with the city when I came back.”

She forced a smile. “They tried to offer me a football scholarship, but those uniforms don’t really suit me.”

“This is your home,” he said, his dark eyes serious. “Where you belong.”

“You’re right. Every couple of years I think I should go somewhere else. L.A. or San Francisco. Phoenix, even. But I won’t leave. Which probably seems pretty boring to you.”

“No. It’s what I want, too. I thought I’d settle in Dallas. The fans are great and I enjoyed the city. I came here because of what Keith had said about his hometown. He made it sound like something out of a movie. When I got here for the golf tournament, I found out he’d been right. I liked everything about Fool’s Gold. So I came back and then I decided to move here.”

She wondered if he was running to something or from something. Not exactly a casual question.

“So this is your first small town,” she said. “Then you need to know the rules.”

“Didn’t I get them in my welcome packet?” The corner of his mouth twitched as he spoke.

She did her best not to smile in return. “No. But they’re very important. You mess up even a little and your life will be hell.”

He leaned toward her. “What are the rules?”

“There are the expected things—keep the living room and kitchen picked up. You never know when you’re going to have company. Don’t mess with a married woman.” She paused. “Or man, depending on your preferences.”

“Thanks for the news flash.”

“Don’t favor any one business over another. Spread the wealth. For example, the best places for hair are owned by two sisters. Bella and Julia Gionni. But you can’t go to just one. Trust me. Just alternate. When you’re at Bella’s, she’ll trash Julia and vice versa. It’s kind of like dinner theater, with highlights.”

He looked more wary than amused. “Maybe I should go out of town for my haircuts.”

“Coward.”

“I know my limitations.”

“You’re the one who bought the camp here. Now you’re stuck.”

His face was handsome, in a rugged man’s man sort of way. She liked the stubborn set of his jaw and the way his dark hair fell across his forehead.

“Can I get those rules in writing?” he asked.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Their server arrived with their meals. Pia had chosen the barbecue chicken salad, while Raoul had picked a burger.

“How did you find the camp?” Pia asked, reaching for her fork. “I’ve lived here all my life and I barely remember knowing about it.”

“I went for a drive,” he told her. “I followed some old signs and found it. I’d had this idea about doing something with kids, but I wasn’t sure what. When I saw the camp, I knew it was what I’d been looking for.”

He held his burger but didn’t take a bite. “The summer program is where we’re starting, but I’m hoping we can do more. Be year-round. Bring kids in for intensive two-and three-week sessions where we focus on one or two subjects. Mostly science and math. Not enough kids are excited about those subjects.”

“You’d have to coordinate with school districts,” she said. “To complement their current curriculum.”

“That’s what Dakota’s working on. We’re thinking middle-school-aged kids. Get them excited before high school.”

He had plenty of passion about the subject, she thought, taking a bite of her salad. What was he like when he was with a woman? Was the same passion there?

An interesting topic, she thought, but not one she would pursue. Even without the potential pregnancy in her future, she knew better than to get involved with a high-powered guy like him. Or any guy. For some reason, men made it a habit of leaving her. If they hadn’t wanted to stick around before, what luck would she have getting them to stay when she had three kids?

Three kids? Her head started to swim. She forced herself to think about something less frightening.

“Having the school use the facility is an interesting way to work out any problems,” she said. “And here everyone thought you were just being nice.”

He chuckled. “It’s a win-win for everyone.”

“Even if it wasn’t, the camp is a great idea. I know a lot of the kids in town appreciated being able to head up there every day this past summer. Or should I say their moms appreciated it. Summer can be a very long three months.”

* * *

PIA’S HAZEL EYES DANCED with amusement. Raoul found himself watching her rather than eating. He liked her, which was a good start. He wanted to get to know her better, yet even if he ignored the foolishness of getting involved so close to home, there was the issue of the embryos.

“Why did you want to work with kids?” she asked. “Because of the coach who helped you?”

“How’d you know?”

“The way you talk about him.”

“Yeah, it was him. He saw something in me I couldn’t see in myself. His wife, too, although they weren’t married at the time.” He smiled at the memory. “My senior year of high school I was one of the football captains.”

“Of course you were,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing. Go on.”

“Each captain was supposed to bring doughnuts to practice. Once we started two-a-days, I had to quit my summer job. I was living in an abandoned building and didn’t have any money.”

“Time-out. You were homeless?”

“It wasn’t so bad.” It had been a whole lot better than dealing with his foster father. The man had never met a kid he hadn’t wanted to hit. One day Raoul had hit him back. Hard. Then he’d left.

“It can’t have been good,” she said, sounding worried.

“I’m fine.”

“But you weren’t.”

“I got by. My point is, I tried to steal them.”

“The doughnuts? You stole doughnuts?”

“I didn’t get away with it. The lady who owned the bakery caught me and she was pissed.” She’d also toppled him with a crutch, a fact he still found humiliating.

“I ended up working for her, then eventually I went to live with her. Nicole Keyes. She liked to think she was tough, but she wasn’t.”

“You loved her,” Pia said softly.

“A lot. If I’d been ten years older, I would have given Hawk a run for his money.” He chuckled. “Maybe not. I had a girlfriend at the time and she would have objected.” He glanced at Pia. “My girlfriend was Hawk’s daughter.”

“You’re making that up.”

“It’s true.” They’d had a lot of plans, he remembered. Marriage. A dozen kids. “We lasted through my first year of college. Then she dumped me. I got over it.”

“Are you still friends with Hawk and Nicole?”

“Sure. They got married and are really happy together. I even keep in touch with Brittany.”

“Does he know about your crush?”

“Probably.”

“Interesting. I can’t begin to bond with a story of my own.”

“Your best friend left you three embryos. You’d win.” He picked up his burger again. “Hawk and Nicole taught me to do the right thing. What’s that phrase? They’re the voice in my head, telling me what to do next. I don’t want to let them down.”

“They’re your family,” Pia said wistfully. “That’s nice.”

He remembered she didn’t have much of a family. A dead father and a mother with the nurturing skills of an insect. If she had the kids, she would belong, he thought. But he would bet she hadn’t considered that. Pia would choose to carry the embryos because it was the right thing to do. She didn’t need an example—she just knew.

She pushed aside her salad and drew a folder out of her large bag. “Go ahead and eat,” she told him. “I’ll tell you what I’ve come up with and you can think of reasons to tell me I’m brilliant while you chew.”

“I like a woman with a plan.”

* * *

PIA GLANCED AT HER WATCH and was stunned to see it was already after two. “Yikes. I have a three o’clock I need to get to,” she said, opening her wallet and pulling out a couple of bills.

“You’re not buying me lunch,” Raoul told her, picking up the check.

“But you said—”

“I was kidding.”

“Too macho to let a woman pay for your food?”

“Something like that.”

He tossed money onto the bill, then stood. When she rose as well, he moved close and placed his hand on the small of her back as they walked out.

She was aware of every millimeter of contact. Her faux-cashmere sweater only amplified the sensation of heat and pressure.

When they reached the sidewalk, she turned to face him. “I’ll get back to you with a schedule of deadlines,” she said. “I think coordinating with a few of the festivals will work out well for the camp.”

She found herself wanting to babble, even if she avoided looking directly at him. What was wrong with her? This wasn’t a date. They weren’t at her door and she wasn’t debating whether to invite him in. This had been a business meeting.

“Thanks for your help,” he said.

She drew in a breath, squared her shoulders and met his gaze. “You’re welcome. You know Robert, our former treasurer, was the kind of man everyone thought was nice, and he ended up stealing millions.”

“You’re saying I’m a thief?” He sounded more amused than insulted.

“Not exactly. But how much do we really know about you? People should ask questions.”

“You think too much,” he told her.

“I know, but that’s because there aren’t enough distractions in my life.”

“How about this one?” he asked, right before he leaned in and kissed her.

The contact was light enough—barely a brush of lip against lip. Hardly worth mentioning.

Except every cell in her body froze from the shock. The fingers holding her bag tightened into a death grip on the handle. Before she could figure out what she was supposed to do, he straightened.

“Thanks for lunch,” he said, then turned and walked away.

Leaving her gasping and alone. And very, very confused.

* * *

RAOUL ANGLED AWAY FROM the mirror as he slowly raised and lowered the weight in his hand. He’d been working out long enough that he rarely needed to check his form or speed. The movements were automatic. Unlike some guys, he didn’t get a kick out of staring at himself.

Next to him, Josh Golden worked his triceps. Both men were dripping sweat and breathing hard. It had been a hell of a workout.

“In case you were wondering,” Josh said as he lowered the weight to the bench in front of him, “I’m the only hero in this town.”

Raoul grinned. “Worried, old man? Or should I say, threatened?”

“I’ve been here a whole lot longer than you. The town adores me. You’re some newcomer. The question is, can you last through the long term?”

“I can outlast you.”

Josh grinned. “In your dreams.” He grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his face. “Everyone appreciates that you offered the camp. Without that place, there wouldn’t have been a school.”

“I’m happy to help.”

“Good. That’s what we do around here. Those who have more, give more. Life in a small town.”

More rules, Raoul thought, remembering the ones Pia had listed. Something about where he was supposed to get his hair cut. Or not. He hadn’t really been listening. He enjoyed listening to her speak, watching the emotions chase across her face. Her eyes were expressive. Her mouth…tempting.

“Earth to Raoul.” Josh waved his hand. “Who are you thinking about?”

“A friend.”

Josh picked up the weight again. Raoul set his down.

“You had lunch with Pia the other day,” Josh said flatly.

Raoul raised his left eyebrow. “You’re married.”

“I’m not interested in keeping her to myself,” Josh said firmly. “I’ve known Pia for years. She’s like a sister. I’m watching out for her.”

Raoul was glad someone was. From what he could see, Pia was pretty much on her own. “We’re working together. Some of the festivals tie in with the work we’re doing up at the camp.”

Josh bent forward, keeping his upper arm still, moving the weight up and down to work his triceps. “You’re getting tied in here. Sure you’re ready for what small-town life really is?”

“I’ll figure it out as I go. What’s your concern?”

“Pia talks tough. She’s smart, she’s funny, she pretends nothing gets to her. But that’s not true. Crystal’s death hit her really hard. Before that…” He set down the weight again and straightened. “She’s had some tough breaks. Her dad died, her mom left. There were a few bad boyfriends. Nobody wants to see her get hurt. You mess with her, you won’t just answer to me. You’ll answer to everyone.”

Raoul had been a football star since he was sixteen. He was used to being the person everyone wanted to be with. The one who was liked.

“You’re saying I’ll be run out of town?”

“That’ll be the least of it.”

“I like Pia,” he said at last. “I’m not going to hurt her.”

Josh didn’t look convinced. “You can’t be sure.”

“I don’t want to hurt her,” Raoul amended. “I care about her, too.”

“I guess that will have to do for now. But if that changes, you’ll answer to me.”

“Think you can take me?” Raoul asked, not bothering to hide his amusement.

“Absolutely.”

Josh was in good shape and they were about the same height, but Raoul had a good twenty pounds of muscle on him. Not to mention years of playing football. Cycling wasn’t exactly a contact sport.

“I’m glad you’re looking out for her,” he said, because it was true. “Pia needs more people on her side.”

Josh studied him. “Nearly everyone would tell you she has the whole town on her side.”

Raoul had his doubts. “She’s a local girl and they like her. But who does Pia have that she can really depend on? One-on-one? She’s all alone in the world.”

A reality that was going to complicate her life when she decided to have Crystal’s babies. Babies no one else seemed to know about.

He thought about the soldier he’d known—the soldier who had died in his arms. What would Keith think about all this? Raoul had a feeling he would be pleased that his children were being given a chance but suspected he, too, would worry about Pia being on her own.

“You looking to change her situation?” Josh asked.

“I don’t do long term.”

“You were married. That the reason?”

Raoul shrugged and set the weight back in the rack.

Josh did the same, then hesitated. “I was married before Charity. It didn’t go well. Sometimes it’s not supposed to.”

Raoul nodded because he wasn’t going to have the conversation and agreeing moved things along. If he mentioned a bad first marriage, people assumed he’d been cheated on. Or had discovered Caro had married him for his money. Either would have been a whole lot easier than the truth. Hell, he would have preferred if she’d left him for a woman. But the real reason their marriage had ended gnawed at him. It woke him at night and left him wanting to scream at the heavens.

There were things that couldn’t be fixed, he reminded himself. Actions that couldn’t be undone. Like throwing a rock in a pond. There was nothing to be done but to wait out the ripples and hope no one got hurt.

He and Josh walked to the locker room. After showering and dressing, they agreed to work out together the following week. One of the things Raoul missed most about playing football was working out with his teammates. Josh could be counted on to push him. Sometimes Ethan Hendrix, a friend of Josh’s, joined them.

Raoul knew it took time to fit in a place, but he was willing to take things slow. He liked Fool’s Gold, so he was being careful not to make any missteps.

He left the gym, intending to go back to the office, but instead found himself walking home. He couldn’t get Pia off his mind. Kissing her had probably been a mistake but was worth it, he thought with a grin. Not only because he’d enjoyed the feel of her mouth against his, but because of the look on her face when he’d done it. Surprised didn’t come close.

He reached the small two-bedroom he’d rented and went into the study and booted his computer. When it was ready, he sat down and logged on to the Internet, then typed IVF into the search engine.

An hour later he had a clearer understanding of what Pia was going to go through. Two hours later, he knew there was no way he would ever agree to something like that. Not that it was physically possible, but still. Not only was Pia going to have to chemically prepare her body for pregnancy, she would be carrying triplets. Assuming all the embryos took. If they didn’t, she would have to deal with the loss and, he assumed, the guilt that went along with it.

Hard enough to be pregnant, but how much worse was it to be pregnant and alone, with no one to depend on? It wasn’t like there was a dad she could go after for help or financial support.

Crystal had asked a lot from her friend. He was still convinced Pia would go through with having the babies, even if she hadn’t figured that out yet. But he wondered if she really knew what she was getting into.

* * *

THE FUNDRAISER FOR THE SCHOOL might have technically lasted only a day, but it had put Pia behind by an entire week. An amount that probably didn’t sound like much, she thought as she stared at her scheduling board. But Fool’s Gold had a festival every single month. Some were smaller than others, but work was always involved. With success came hours of behind-the-scenes planning.

Summer was the busiest time, but fall was a close second. The city Halloween Party was barely six weeks away, and before that was the Fall Festival. The Thanksgiving Parade was after the Halloween Party but before the Christmas Gift Bazaar. The Saturday Day of Giving led into the Live Nativity outdoor service, which was the Sunday before Christmas. Then there was New Year’s and so on.

One project at a time, she reminded herself, making notes on her dry-erase calendar. That’s how she got through. It’s not as if any of the events were new. The plans pretty much stayed the same. She had master lists that were cross-referenced, decorations stored all over town. If this ever got old, she could probably apply to run the world. There were—

She paused and stared at the calendar square. Instead of noting when she needed to arrange to have chairs and booths pulled out of storage, she’d drawn a string of little hearts. Although sweet, it wasn’t exactly helpful. Worse—she knew the cause.

Raoul’s kiss.

No matter how many times she told herself he hadn’t meant anything by it, she couldn’t get her gut, or her heart, to believe it. That one little second of contact had changed everything. Suddenly he wasn’t just Raoul, someone she knew, he was a guy. And because he was a guy, she had to be careful around him, which she didn’t like.

Awareness was everything, she thought grimly. Two days ago, he’d been everyone’s definition of tall, dark and handsome, but she hadn’t really cared. He’d witnessed her at her hysterical best, had dealt with it winningly and she’d thought of him as a friend.

Now she found herself thinking about that stupid kiss two or three hundred times a day. She’d wondered why he’d done it, wished he would do it again, imagined him doing more than kissing her. It was pathetic, not to mention a waste of time.

She didn’t have a type, but if she did, it wasn’t him. He was too perfect. In all her “happily ever after” fantasies, the guy in question had been normal. Maybe even boring. Boring was dependable. With boring, a girl had a shot at the guy not leaving. But Raoul? He was heartbreaker material even when he wasn’t trying.

“It was just a kiss,” she whispered to herself. “Let it go.”

Good advice. And someone, somewhere, would probably take it. Just not her. Not when she could feel the light brush of skin on skin, feel the heat of him and wish…

She lightly bumped her head against the wall, hoping to gently pound some sense into herself. Maybe the problem wasn’t that Raoul was not her type, maybe the problem was more generic than that. Maybe if she’d had more kissing in her life, she wouldn’t feel like she had to read too much into what had happened. Maybe she should date.

Pia rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Like that’s going to happen.”

If she went ahead with the embryos implantation, her dating days were long over. Besides, she’d never exactly excelled in the man department. They always left, and for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what she was doing to drive them away.

The door to her office pushed open. Pia glanced up and was surprised when Raoul strolled in.

He looked good, she thought, telling herself to make sure she looked cool and sophisticated. Barring that, she should try to avoid appearing desperate or needy.

“Hi,” she said, going for cheerful. “I haven’t had an emotional crisis today so we can’t possibly have an appointment.”

Instead of seeming impressed by her sparkling wit, he stared at her with an intensity that made her wonder if she’d dropped a bit of breakfast on the front of her shirt. As casually as she could, she glanced down. All seemed well.

“Pia,” he said, moving toward her. “We have to talk.”

Not exactly words one expected to hear from a macho guy. “Okay,” she said slowly. “What about?”

Maybe he’d been as rocked by the kiss as she had been. Maybe he wanted to kiss her again and make her his love monkey. A week or two of intense male attention would probably cure her allergies.

“I’ve been doing research on in vitro fertilization,” he said.

She plopped down on her chair and held in a sigh. So much for the love monkey invitation. “That’s more than I’ve done,” she admitted. “Is that what we’re going to talk about? Because if it’s anything gross, I don’t want to know. I have a weak stomach.”

He moved toward her desk. “It won’t be bad. You take some basic tests, then your body is prepared to receive the embryos.”

She hadn’t liked the sound of that when she’d read the brochures the lab guy had given her, and she didn’t like it now. “Prepared, how?” She quickly raised a hand. “Never mind. Are you going to sit?”

He placed his hands on her desk and leaned toward her. Apparently sitting wasn’t on the schedule, either.

“Pia,” he said, his dark gaze intense. “You can’t go through this alone. You need someone to take care of you, and I want to be that person.”

CHAPTER SIX

THE WORDS SWIRLED AROUND in Pia’s head. This was even crazier than the kiss.

“I haven’t decided I’m going to have the babies,” she whispered.

“Sure you have. Are you going to walk away from them?”

“No, but…”

If she hadn’t been sitting, she would have collapsed. Was Raoul right? Had she already made her choice?

She closed her eyes. There was no way she couldn’t have them, she thought with some finality. Whether or not she was the best person, she was the one Crystal had picked. It was crazy and scary and life-changing, but it had to be done. Her friend was depending on her.

She opened her eyes. “Oh, God. I’m going to get pregnant.” She sprang to her feet, as her chest tightened and her heart rate zoomed into triple digits. “I can’t breathe.”

He came around the desk, took her hands in his and held on tight. “I’ll help.”

“This has nothing to do with you.”

“I want to help. Be your…” He seemed to be searching for a description of what he was offering. “Pregnancy buddy. I’ll drive you to the doctor, go get you pickles, whatever you need.”

“I don’t need pickles,” she told him, ignoring the warm feeling of his skin against hers. This was not the time to indulge in weakness. “I don’t really like them. Not enough to binge on them.” A pregnancy buddy? “Maybe you took too many hits to the head when you were playing football.”

Despite her tugging on her hands, he didn’t release them.

“Pia, I’m serious. You don’t have any family here. You have friends, but they all have lives. You need someone to depend on for the next nine months. I’m offering to be that guy.”

Did kissing come with the offer, she wondered, before pushing the thought away.

She managed to free her hands and take a step back. “You can’t know what you’re saying. Why would you give up nine months of your life to help me?”

“Why would you offer to have Crystal’s babies?”

“That’s different. She was my friend.”

“Fair enough. I didn’t know her, but I did know Keith. These are his kids, too. The man died in my arms, Pia. I was there. I owe him. Helping bring his children into the world seems like the least I can do.”

That almost made sense, she thought. Given that everything about their conversation was beyond believable.

“Okay, maybe,” she conceded, “but maybe you could just donate something to charity instead. You’re a rich, famous guy. You have a life. Probably a girlfriend.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I did.”

Which begged the question of why he had, but she would deal with one weird incident at a time. “Raoul, you’re really sweet, but no.”

“Why? Don’t you trust me?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not going to offer this, then change my mind. I’m not going to leave.”

She did her best not to wince at his words. He knew enough about her past to guess that being left was one of her issues. Slowly, she returned to her chair and sank down. After drawing in a breath, she looked at him, as if she could find the answer in his handsome features.

There was nothing new there—just the same large, dark eyes, high cheekbones, perfect mouth.

He pulled up a chair and sat facing her. “I mean it, Pia. I want to help. For you and for Keith. You should let me try. I’m good at getting stuff done. All that quarterback training. What you’re doing is important. Let me help.”

She might not be willing to accept a man she barely knew would do this for her, but she could almost get that he would do it for Keith.

“What does being a pregnancy buddy mean?” she asked cautiously.

“Whatever you want it to mean. Like I said, I’ll drive you to the doctor, go on craving runs, listen to you talk about how your ankles are puffy.”

Something passed through his eyes—a dark, scary emotion that made her wonder about his past. But before she could ask, the emotion was gone.

“I’ll be there for you, Pia. In whatever capacity you want. No expectations, no rules. You won’t have to go through this alone.”

That sounded perfect, she thought wistfully, wondering if it was possible. Could she really depend on him, trust him, know that he would be there for her?

Leaning on other people hadn’t been a big part of her life. Not since high school, when both parents had left her—in one way or another. As she and Raoul weren’t involved emotionally, the situation was completely different from what it had been with her boyfriends. If he chose to leave, it wouldn’t be a big deal. Right?

Which was what it came down to. Depending on someone she wasn’t sure would come through for her.

“It’s an interesting idea,” she began. “And I appreciate it. But why would you do this? What’s in it for you?”

“I’ll be there,” he said firmly, “because I like you. And because you’re doing a good thing. Maybe because there are things in my past that didn’t work out the way I wanted them to, and this will make me feel better about them.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?”

“I just do, and I’ll be there.”

A part of her wanted to believe. Being able to depend on someone, especially while she was pregnant and worried about giving birth to three kids and raising them, would be heavenly. But the rest of her knew that leaving was what most people did best.

“Look at it this way,” he said. “Use me shamelessly. Then if I do walk away, you get to be right. A win-win.”

An interesting point. He sounded really sincere. Not totally sane, but sincere.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “Maybe.”

“I’ll take it.” He leaned in and brushed his mouth against hers.

Again, the light kiss had her entire body reacting. She wanted to haul him against her and have him put some back into it. Instead, she contented herself with remembering to breathe.

He stood. “Let me know when it all starts and I’ll be there.”

She wasn’t clear on the implantation process, but she was pretty sure it was something she didn’t want him to see.

“In the waiting room,” he amended at her look of squeamishness.

“Okay. That would be fine. I’ll let you know.”

He left.

She continued to sit on her chair, feeling both stunned and a little relieved. Maybe this would be for the best, she told herself. Having someone else to help. Having someone else looking out for Crystal’s babies. And if he got bored or distracted and walked away, so what? She’d been abandoned in ways Raoul couldn’t begin to imagine. He couldn’t possibly hurt her. So she was safe. And being safe was really what mattered most.

* * *

RAOUL TRIED TO BE UP at camp nearly every day. He timed his visits for recess or lunch so he could spend time with the kids on the playground. It was fun to toss a ball around with them. For the most part they were a little small to throw or catch a football, but a baseball worked well and Josh’s sporting goods store had donated several balls and mitts.

When he arrived, the kids were still eating lunch. He went to see Dakota.

She was one of those neat people who had trays and color-coded, arranged files. Sort of like Pia’s office, but without the huge calendar or the posters proclaiming Founders Day and Kissing Booth—$1 a kiss.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Great.” She motioned for him to enter.

He took the chair next to her desk.

“All the classes are in place and the kids are settled. We’re okay on desks, still a little short on blackboards and books. So there’s some creative sharing going on. It’s probably good for the students to see that life means being flexible.”

He chuckled. “Disaster as a teachable moment.”

“Sure. Why not?” She pulled out a folder and glanced through it. “We should have an estimate on the cost to repair the school by the end of the week. If you hear a collective groan about ten Friday morning, it’s the school-board-and-city-council joint meeting, where they get the actual numbers. I don’t think it’s going to be pretty.”

“Isn’t there insurance?”

“Sure, but it’s unlikely to make the school whole again. I’m sure there’s state money, too, but I see a lot of fundraising in our future.”

He remembered the fun Saturday afternoon in the park. “Pia puts on a good party.”

“She has a lot of experience.”

A group of yelling kids raced past her open office door. “Lunch must be over,” he said.

“Apparently.”

More kids ran by.

“Does the noise bother you?” he asked. “Do you want an office somewhere else?”

Dakota laughed. “I’m one of six. I’m used to noise.”

“Loud, happy childhood?”

“Absolutely. The boys came a couple of years apart, but when we were born, Mom got smacked with three babies at once. I can’t imagine how she did it. I know my dad helped and the neighbors pitched in, but triplets? Somehow she managed.”

He thought of Pia. She would have the three embryos implanted at the same time. If all of them survived, she would be looking at triplets, as well.

“So you’re used to the chaos,” he said.

“I don’t even notice it. There are complications with a lot of kids, but as far as I’m concerned, the positives far outweigh the negatives.”

“Planning a big family?” he asked.

She nodded and laughed. “I should probably get started, huh?”

“Is there a guy in all this?”

“I’d prefer it that way.” She wrinkled her nose. “I know—how boring. I want to be traditional. Get married, have kids, a yard, a dog. Not anything a famous football guy would find interesting.”

“What makes you think I don’t want the same thing?”

“Do you?” she asked, tilting her head as she studied him.

“It would be nice.”

“You were married before.” She made a statement rather than asked a question.

“It didn’t take.”

“Is there going to be a next time?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. Like Pia, he found it difficult to trust people. In his case, it was specifically women that were his problem.

“It can be different,” she said. “Better.”

He was less sure. “What about you? Any prospective husbands on the horizon, or are you waiting for the perfect guy?”

“He doesn’t have to be perfect. Just a regular guy who wants an ordinary life.” She shook her head. “Finding that is harder than you’d think. We have something of a man shortage here in town.”

“I’ve heard that.”

“You could ask some of your single football buddies to visit. As a gracious gesture to the lonely women in town.”

“Donating the camp was my good deed for the week.”

He stood and glanced out the door. A group of boys walked by, including Peter.

Raoul turned back to Dakota. “There’s a kid in Mrs. Miller’s class. Peter. He got scared during the fire. I went to take his hand, to lead him out. But when I stretched out my arm, he flinched, like he thought I was going to hit him.”

She frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that.” She wrote the name down on a pad of paper. “I’ll talk to his teacher and do some quiet investigating.”

“Thanks. It’s probably nothing.”

“It probably is,” she agreed. “But we’ll find out for sure.” She glanced at the clock. “You’d better go. Your fans are waiting.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “They’re not fans.”

“They worship you. You’re someone they’ve seen play football on TV and now you’re on their playground, throwing around a baseball. If that’s not fan-worthy, what is?”

“I’m just hanging out with the guys. Don’t make it more than it is.”

“Caring and unassuming. Be still my heart.”

“I’m not your type.”

“How do you know?”

Because from the second they’d met, there’d been no chemistry. Besides, Dakota worked for him. “Am I wrong?”

She sighed theatrically. “No, you’re not. Which is why I’m very interested in your football friends.”

“I doubt that. You’re going to find your own guy.”

“Want to tell me when?” she asked with a laugh. “So I can put a star by that day on the calendar?”

“When you least expect it.”

* * *

PIA SAT ACROSS FROM Montana Hendrix in Pia’s small office. She’d known the Hendrix triplets her entire life. The family had always been a prominent one and could trace its lineage back to the founding of the town.

People who assumed that the three sisters acted alike because they looked alike had obviously never met the triplets. Nevada was the quietest, the one who had studied engineering and gone to work with her brother. Dakota was more like a middle child—wanting everyone to get along. Montana was youngest, both in birth order and personality type. She was fun and impulsive, and the one Pia was closest to.

“So everything sold?” Montana asked, folding a letter and putting it into an envelope.

“Yes. The auction was a huge success. Despite the fact that there weren’t any minimum bids, we made nearly twice what we’d hoped for.”

The letters were going out to the successful bidders at the school fundraising auction. It provided information on how to pay and when to claim the prize.

“Everyone wanted to help,” Montana said.

“Like you today.” Pia grinned. “Did I thank you yet?”

“You’re buying me lunch.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot.”

They talked about what was happening in town and with their friends.

Montana picked up another letter, then put it down. “I’ve been offered a full-time job at the library.”

Pia raised her eyebrows. “That’s great. Congratulations.”

Montana didn’t look very excited. “It’s a big deal, right? I’ve been working there nearly two years part-time. They’re giving me a nice raise and I’ll have benefits.”

“But?”

Montana sucked in a breath. “I just don’t want to.” She held up a hand. “I know, I know. What am I thinking? This is a great opportunity. They’d want me to go back and get my master’s in library science, and they’d even help pay. I love living in Fool’s Gold. Now I’d have job security.”

“But?” Pia asked again.

“It’s not what I want to do,” Montana admitted in a small voice. “I don’t love working at the library. I mean, I like it. Books are great, and I like helping people and I enjoy working with the kids. But full-time? Every day for eight hours?”

She leaned her arms on the desk and slumped in her seat. “Why can’t I be like everyone else? Why can’t I know what I want to do with my life?”

“I thought you liked the library. You were really excited to help set up Liz’s book signing last summer.”

“That was fun. I just…” She motioned to Pia’s office. “You knew what you wanted to do.”

“No.” Pia remembered trying to pick a major in college. “I didn’t have a clue. I went with business because it seemed to give me a lot of options. I started in this job as an assistant, then I found out I liked it. I was lucky. This wasn’t a plan.”

“I need to get lucky,” Montana muttered, then grinned. “I was going to say ‘not in a boy-girl way,’ but that would be fun, too.” Her smile faded. “I feel so stupid.”

“Why? You’re not. You’re smart and funny.”

Montana lowered her voice. “I think I might be flaky.”

Pia did her best not to smile. “You’re anything but.”

“I can’t pick a career. I’m twenty-seven and I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. Shouldn’t I already be grown up? Isn’t the future now?”

“You sound like a poster. This isn’t about the future. This is about making yourself happy. There’s nothing wrong with trying different careers until you find one you like. You’re supporting yourself. It’s not like you’re living with your mom and watching TV all day. It’s okay to explore the possibilities.”

“Maybe,” Montana said. “I never meant not to know what I wanted to do.”

“Better to keep trying until you find something that makes you happy rather than choose something now and hate your job for the next twenty years.”

Montana smiled. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Fixing someone else’s life isn’t hard. The one I have trouble with is my own.”

Montana raised her eyebrows. “Does any of this trouble have to do with a certain tall, very muscled ex-football player?”

Pia warned herself not to blush. “No. Why do you ask?”

“You had lunch with him.”

“It was a business lunch.”

“It didn’t look like a business lunch,” Montana told her.

Small-town life, Pia reminded herself. “How do you know? Did you see it for yourself?”

“I got the play-by-play from three different people.” Montana leaned toward her. “One of them claimed there was a kiss, but I can’t get confirmation on that.”

Pia sighed. “I swear, we need more channels on cable around here. People are starved for entertainment.”

“So there’s nothing going on with you and Raoul?” Montana asked, looking disappointed.

Pia hesitated.

“There is!” her friend crowed.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s not what you think. It’s not romantic.” How could it be? Her soon-to-be pregnancy would scare off any sane man and most of the ones only flirting with sanity.

Pia drew in a breath. “Crystal left me her embryos.”

Montana’s eyes widened. “I thought you had her cat.”

“I did, until I found out about her will. Jo got the cat.”

“And you have her babies? That is amazing.” Montana blinked. “Oh my God! You have her babies. You have to decide what to do with them. Did she leave you any instructions?”

“Not specifically. I know that having them is sort of implied in the bequest. It’s not like she wants them frozen forever. She left money to help cover some of the medical expenses and to start a college fund.”

“You’re going to have them?”

Pia nodded slowly. Reality hadn’t completely sunk in, and she was okay with that. Accepting that kind of truth should take a little time.

Montana jumped up and ran around the table, then bent down and hugged Pia. “I can’t believe it. This is so amazing. You’re going to have Crystal’s babies.”

She dropped to a crouch and stared at her friend. “Are you terrified?”

“Mostly. There’s a lot of confusion and worry to go with it, as well. Why on earth did she pick me? There are a lot of other people here who have more ‘mom’ potential.”

Montana straightened and returned to her seat. “That’s not true. Of course you’re the one she wanted to have her babies.”

“You say that like this all makes sense.”

Montana looked confused. “How doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know anything about having a baby or raising one. Or possibly three. She didn’t talk to me ahead of time, warn me. I was supposed to get the cat. It turns out he never really liked me, so that’s probably for the best, but still…” Pia bit her lower lip. “Why did Crystal pick me?”

“Because she loved and trusted you. Because she knew you’d make the right decisions.”

“She can’t know that. I sure don’t know that. What if something bad happens? What if the embryos hate me as much as Jake did?”

“They’re not in a position to make a judgment call.”

“Okay, not now, but they will be. After they’re born.”

“Babies are hardwired to bond. That’s what they do. They’ll bond with you because you’re wonderful. But even if you weren’t, they’d still bond with you.”

“I’d feel better if they liked me for me and not just because of biology.”

“That’s going to happen, too,” Montana assured her. “You’ll be a great mom.”

“How do you know?” Pia asked, feeling both worried and desperate. “I don’t come from a happy gene pool. My boyfriends always leave. Even the cat didn’t want to live with me. What do I have to offer to a baby?”

“Your heart,” Montana said simply. “Pia, you’ll do everything in your power to take care of those kids. You’ll sacrifice and worry and be there when they need you. It’s who you are.”

“The whole single-mom thing scares me,” she admitted.

“You might be single, but you won’t be alone,” Montana reminded her. “This is Fool’s Gold. You’ll be taken care of by the town. You’ll have all the help and advice you need. Speaking of which, if I can do anything, please let me know.”

“I will.”

Pia knew that Montana was right about the town. If she needed help, she only had to ask. Then there was Raoul’s strange “pregnancy buddy” offer. She wasn’t sure exactly what he was putting on the table, but it was nice that he was willing to be there.

“I just wish Crystal had talked to me before she died. Explained what she wanted.”

“Would you have told her no?” Montana asked.

Pia considered the question. “I probably would have tried to talk her out of it, but in the end, if this was what she really wanted, I would have agreed. But at least I would have had the chance to find out why.”

“You really can’t figure that out? You’re genuinely confused as to why Crystal left you her embryos?”

“Yes. Aren’t you?”

Montana smiled at her. “No. Not in the least. I guess that’s what you’re going to have to come to terms with. And when you do, you’ll know why you were exactly the right person for her to pick.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

DR. CECILIA GALLOWAY WAS a tall, large-boned, no-nonsense kind of person who had gone to medical school back when women were expected to be homemakers or secretaries. She believed an informed patient was a happy patient, and that until a man experienced mood swings and menstrual cramps, he was in no position to say whether or not they were in a patient’s head.

A mother of one of Pia’s friends had gently suggested Pia consider visiting a gynecologist before starting college. Pia hadn’t imagined ever having sex, but she’d taken the advice and gone in for her first pelvic exam.

Dr. Galloway had made the experience more interesting than scary, explaining the details of Pia’s reproductive system in language the teen could understand. She’d also offered blunt advice about fumbling boys and their lack of expertise. She’d told Pia how to find her clitoris and G-spot and suggested she tell the boy in question to spend some quality time with both before having his way with her.

Now, a decade later, Pia sat in Dr. Galloway’s office. She had a meager list of questions, which had made her realize she didn’t know enough to know what to ask. Rather than hit the Internet and get a lot of half-truths, she’d come to the source of all knowledge.

At a few minutes after ten, Dr. Galloway walked into her office. She wore a white coat over casual knits. Her steel-gray hair was cut short. She didn’t bother with makeup, but her steady blue eyes were warm behind her sensible glasses.

“Pia,” the doctor said with a smile as she crossed the spacious room and settled next to Pia, rather than sitting across from her on the other side of the big wood desk. “I was a little surprised when I saw you were coming in today.”

When Pia had made the appointment, she’d said she needed to talk to the doctor before being examined and had explained why.

Now, Dr. Galloway put down the folder she held and studied her. “You’re young and healthy. Are you sure about this? It’s an extreme measure at this time in your life. Wouldn’t you rather wait and be in a relationship? Or even if you don’t want to be involved with the father, we can look at artificial insemination rather than IVF.”

It took Pia a second to realize the problem. “I’m not trying to get pregnant,” she said with a shake of her head. “Okay, I am trying to get pregnant, but it’s not what you think.”

Dr. Galloway leaned back in her chair. “What shouldn’t I think?”

“Crystal Westland left me her embryos.”

The older woman’s expression softened. “Did she? I wondered what Crystal would do. Poor child, to have suffered so much. It’s a loss for all of us.” She drew in a breath. “So you want to have Crystal’s babies, do you?”

Want was kind of a strong word, Pia thought. She’d accepted the shift in her life path and was dealing. Maybe want would come later.

“I’m going to have them,” Pia said firmly, holding in the need to wince at the words. “What’s the next step?”

Dr. Galloway considered her for a moment. “We do an examination to make sure you’re healthy. Draw a little blood, that sort of thing.”

She got up and walked around to the other side of her desk. After sitting, she pulled out a pad of paper and started making notes. “How many embryos are there?”

“Three.”

“You’ll have them all implanted at once?”

“I don’t know. Should I?”

“It’s probably for the best.” The doctor raised her head. “The process is very simple. The embryos thaw naturally until they come to room temperature. They’re put through several solutions to wash away any lingering cryoprotectant that was used during the freezing. Then they’re warmed to body temperature and implanted. I can do that. It’s a simple procedure, relatively painless.”

She pulled several brochures out of a drawer. “Then you lie on the examination table for a few minutes, giving the embryos time to settle. Two weeks later, we test you to see if you’re pregnant.”

That didn’t sound so bad, Pia thought. “Will I have to take any drugs? The guy at the lab talked about preparing my body.”

“It depends. We’ll monitor your cycle with a series of ultrasounds. When you’re ready, in they go.” Dr. Galloway leaned toward her. “It is possible not all the embryos will have survived the freezing process.”

Pia hadn’t realized that. “We’ll know when they’re thawed?”

“Yes, they’re checked before they’re implanted.”

The doctor passed her several brochures. “You can read these over. They give more details about what will happen. Implantation is safe and quick. There’s no reason to think this will be anything but a normal pregnancy.”

Pia opened her mouth, then closed it. She glanced down at her hands, then back at the doctor. “What if I did something bad?”

Dr. Galloway shook her head. “There is nothing immoral in having Crystal’s children, Pia. It is an act of love.”

“I don’t mean that. I mean…” She swallowed. “When I was in college, I had a boyfriend. I got pregnant.”

“You had an abortion.” Dr. Galloway sighed. “It happens all the time and has no impact on—”

“No,” she said quickly. “I didn’t. I was so scared, I couldn’t believe it was really happening. There was no way the guy I was seeing would marry me, assuming I’d wanted that, which I didn’t. I kept wishing the baby would go away. One morning I woke up and I was bleeding. I got my period.”

She felt the wave of guilt, the shame that washed through her. “I wished my unborn child would die and it did.”

The doctor rose and pulled Pia to her feet, then held her hands tightly.

“No,” she said in a firm voice. “You don’t have that much power, Pia. None of us do. A significant percentage of pregnancies end spontaneously. It is impossible to predict exactly when it will happen or even know why. Something went wrong inside the embryo. That is why you lost the baby. Not because you wished it so.”

Tears filled Pia’s eyes. “I prayed so hard.”

“God didn’t answer your prayer, child. Have you felt bad all this time?”

She nodded, then swallowed. “I don’t deserve to have Crystal’s babies. I’m a bad person.”

“A bad person wouldn’t care. You are young and healthy and you will be an amazing mother. Come on. We’ll do the exam. We’ll rule out any specific physical problems. Then you can decide. As for the child you lost, it’s time to let him or her go.”

Pia knew in her head that the other woman was right, but in her heart and her gut, the guilt lived on.

* * *

AN HOUR LATER, PIA DRESSED. She’d been poked, prodded and gone through her first ultrasound.

“Everything is fine,” Dr. Galloway told her when Pia returned to her office. “You are ready. Based on when you last had your period, you’re within five or six days of peak thickness in your uterine lining. So within the week if you want to go ahead this month.”

“That fast,” Pia said, hanging on to the back of the chair.

“You can wait for as long as you want.”

Medically, yes, but if she waited, she might chicken out.

“How is your insurance?” Dr. Galloway asked. “You might want to check out how much it will cover.”

“I’m with the city plan.” The pregnancy itself would be covered. “Crystal left money to cover the implantation.” There was also some money in trust for each of the children and a small annuity to help Pia with monthly expenses.

“Then the choice is yours.” Dr. Galloway studied her. “Let the past go, child. It’s time to think about the future. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here to help.”

“Should I do anything special as far as food or vitamins?”

The doctor shook her head. “We’ve done a blood draw. I’ll have the results in a few days. You’ll go on prenatal vitamins then, along with any additional supplements you might need. For now, relax.” The older woman smiled. “No, I take that back. Go find a good-looking man and have sex.”

Pia felt herself flush. “Is that medical advice?”

Dr. Galloway laughed. “Yes. You’re going to be pregnant with triplets, Pia. Your body won’t be your own for much longer. Enjoy it while you can. Is there anyone special in your life?”

She immediately thought of Raoul—her hunky pregnancy buddy. “Not really. I’m not dating.”

“My advice stands. Just make sure you take precautions. Then when you’re ready, we’ll take the next steps.” She rose and walked around her desk. “You’re doing an extraordinary thing, Pia. I’m so proud of you.”

Pia thanked her and left. Information swirled around in her head. She was pleased that the implantation could happen relatively easily, and she appreciated Dr. Galloway’s attempts to reassure her about what had happened in the past. Pia knew logically that she wasn’t to blame for the loss of the baby she’d carried before, but she couldn’t help feeling that being terrified rather than happy had been wrong. And that she would be punished later.

Which meant what? Did she give in to the fear and not have Crystal’s children? That didn’t seem right, either. If she went forward with this, she was going to have to take a leap of faith. On her part, she would do everything right. Take the best care of herself, live perfectly. It would be up to the babies to take care of the rest. A reasonable plan, she told herself. A rational response.

But she couldn’t help but wonder if Crystal would have left her the embryos if she’d known the truth.

* * *

PIA HAD BARELY BEEN BACK in her office five minutes when Marsha called.

“They’re here,” the mayor said, sounding desperate. “I knew they were coming, but still.”

“Who’s here?”

“Reporters. They’re everywhere. I need you to come to City Hall and dazzle them.”

“Is this where I tell you I don’t feel especially dazzling?”

“No, it isn’t. We’re desperate. Charity is going to take questions, as well. I need young, confident and sexy. Anything that doesn’t scream pitiful spinster.”

Despite everything that had happened that morning, Pia burst out laughing. “I don’t think we use the ‘S’ word in this century, Marsha.”

“They’re going to use it. Count on it. You’ll come?”

“I’ll be there. Give me fifteen minutes.”

“Make it twelve.”

* * *

PIA MADE IT TO CITY HALL in ten minutes, only to find that the mayor wasn’t kidding. There were several news vans parked along the street, with reporters setting up for outdoor shots. It was a perfect fall day—crisp without being too cold, blue sky, the changing leaves adding bursts of red and yellow.

She could see Charity talking to two reporters at once, and a crowd of residents starting to gather. Sucking in a deep breath and reminding herself to speak in coherent sound bites, she stepped toward the cluster of reporters.

“Hello,” she said as she approached. “I’m Pia O’Brian. I work for the city. Mayor Tilson asked me to come by and see if you have any questions.”

Immediately three cameras focused on her. Bright, blinding lights clicked on. Pia did her best not to blink like a mole in the sun.

“What’s your name?” one guy asked. “Can you spell it?”

She didn’t think Pia was a tough one, but she did as he requested.

“What’s with the man shortage?” a young male reporter asked. “How are you driving them away?”

“Is it a sex thing?” another man asked. “The women in town not putting out?”

The assumption being they must be doing something wrong, Pia thought, but she did her best not to let her irritation show.

“Demographically, we’re not as balanced as other communities,” she said calmly. “There are fewer males born per one hundred births than in other places. As the father determines the gender of the child, you’ll have to speak to the men in town to get your question answered.”

The youngest of the three reporters around her blinked, as if he couldn’t remember what he’d asked. All the better for her, she thought.

“Fool’s Gold is a family community,” she continued. “We have an excellent school system, a low crime rate and are a popular tourist destination. Businesses thrive here. We’ve recently signed a contract that brings a second hospital to the area. This one will include a trauma center, something this part of the state needs.”

“Are the women in town excited about the man invasion?” the second reporter asked. “Maybe some of you will get lucky.”

“Oh, joy,” Pia murmured, knowing slapping someone when on camera was never a good idea. “Tourists are always welcome.”

“We’ve heard there are busloads of men coming this way. From all over the country.”

That couldn’t be good. Busloads? What were they supposed to do with them? The kind of men who could drop everything, hop on a bus and travel to a place they’d never seen with the hopes of finding women didn’t sound especially stable. Or community oriented. If this was true, it was a nightmare in the making.

“Lucky us,” she said. “Fool’s Gold is always ready to make visitors feel at home. Families especially.”

“But you’re short on men,” the older of the three said. “So you’ll be personally interested in the guys coming. You can’t get a date, right?”

Pia raised her eyebrows, fighting a sudden flash of temper. “Do I look like I can’t get a date? Is that what you’re implying? That we should be grateful for anyone who comes here and gives us the slightest hint of affection? Do you really think we’re desperate and—”

“There you are,” a smooth male voice said, as a hand slid against the small of her back.

She turned and saw Raoul had joined her.

He gave her a warning glance, which was totally unnecessary. Obviously it was dumb to try to best a reporter while on camera. They had the last word in the editing room. But the assumption that she or any of the women in town were dying for a busload of guys from who knows where to show up was beyond insulting. Sure, many of the women in town wanted to meet someone special and get married, but that was a far cry from being desperate for any man who happened to glance their way.

Raoul extended his right hand to the reporters. “Raoul Moreno. Nice to meet you.”

Pia had the satisfaction of watching two of the three guys’ mouths drop open.

“The football player?” the youngest guy asked. “You played for Dallas. Jesus, you live here?”

“Fool’s Gold is a great town. Family friendly, supportive of businesses. I’ve opened a camp for kids up in the mountains. There’s a new hospital being built and a cycling school run by Josh Golden.”

The oldest reporter frowned. “That’s right. Josh Golden does live here. Hey, I thought there was supposed to be a man shortage.”

Pia felt smug but was determined not to let it show. “We might have some demographic challenges, but we’re still a thriving, happy community. If single men want to be a part of that, great. If they’re thinking they’ve just entered the land of desperate women, they’re sadly mistaken.”

As she spoke, she was aware of Raoul’s hand still pressing against her back. His touch was sure and warm and very, very nice. She found herself wanting to lean in, maybe rest her head against his chest, but that wouldn’t be her smartest move. They weren’t involved. Although there was a teeny-tiny chance she was thinking about asking him for sex.

How far did the pregnancy-buddy offer extend?

“There’s a lot of regional industry that might interest you,” Raoul told them. “We have a local contractor who builds wind turbines. He and his staff are designing some cutting-edge blades using special materials.”

The reporters exchanged glances, as if wind turbines didn’t exactly get their hearts beating faster. But Pia saw what Raoul was doing. Focusing on all the businesses owned by men, trying to get the reporters confused enough that they wouldn’t have a story.

“If you’re looking for local color,” Pia said in her most helpful voice, “there’s Morgan’s Books. He’s been around for years. When I was little, he always made sure the next Nancy Drew book was in stock for me.”

Raoul pulled a business card out of his shirt pocket. “If any of you want to contact me about an interview, I’m available.”

“Great,” the youngest reporter said. “I’ll call you. We can do a feature. Life after football, that sort of thing.”

“Sure.”

The three men drifted away. Pia watched anxiously, then had to hold in a cheer as the bright lights were extinguished and the cameras turned off.

She spun toward Raoul and grinned. “You did it. You saved the town.”

He guided her away from the crowd. “Don’t get too excited. They’ve been fooled, but it won’t last long. This problem isn’t going away.”

She didn’t want to think about that. “How’d you know to come here?”

“The mayor called and asked me to help. She’s worried about the kind of men who will show up based on a news story.”

Pia grinned. “She begged, didn’t she?”

He shrugged. “It was uncomfortable. Besides, I’m not looking for bad press, either. This is my home, too.” He glanced at the milling reporters. “We’ve bought ourselves some time. But if there really are busloads of men heading in this direction, the reporters will be back.”

Not exactly a happy thought. “I guess we’d all better figure out what we’re going to say when they return. Not to mention the logistics of herds of single men. What are we going to do with them? Do you think they’re here to settle down or just hoping to get lucky?”

His gaze met hers. “That was rhetorical, right? You weren’t actually looking for an answer.”

She laughed. “You’ve saved us for the moment and that’s enough. But if you get any brilliant ideas…”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

They stared at each other. He really was good-looking, she thought. Talk about an excellent gene pool. And those hands. They seemed…large.

Dr. Galloway’s teasing words filled her brain. On a practical level, Pia knew that once she had Crystal’s babies, her dating days were long over. Not that she’d been going out all that much before, but still. There had always been the promise of a great guy. Instead she would be the single mother of triplets.

“What?” Raoul asked. “You’re thinking something.”

It would be asking too much. On some level, it was probably wrong. Still, he was tempting.

“Would you like to come over for dinner?” she asked before she could stop herself. “So we can talk about the pregnancy some more? I saw my doctor today and she gave me a lot of good information.”

“Sure. Want me to bring something?”

“Wine would be nice. If I’m going to get pregnant, then there won’t be any in my future for nine long months.”

They settled on a time and she gave him her address. As he walked off, she stared after him. Between now and dinner, she had several hours to decide if she really was going to ask Raoul for one last fling before she started down the pregnancy road.

The thought of being with him made her feel all squishy inside. Based on what she knew about his past, he had plenty of practice when it came to the wild thing. It would probably be the night of a lifetime. Which was about how long the memories would have to last her.

* * *

PIA HAD NEVER BEEN MUCH of a cook. Yet another skill she would need to be a successful mother, she thought as she climbed the two flights of stairs to her apartment. She’d bought a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store, along with a couple of different salads. She would steam broccoli and serve berries over ice cream for dessert. Assuming they got that far in the meal.

The more she thought about asking Raoul for a single night of wildness, the more she liked the idea. Of course that same thought was accompanied by stomach-clenching panic, but that was a problem for another time.

She put the groceries in the refrigerator, showered quickly, then smoothed on jasmine-scented lotion. She kept her makeup light, then chose a simple green dress that buttoned up the front. The scooped neck wasn’t so low as to be obvious, but it hinted at curves.

She’d changed her sheets the previous day, so that was good. She checked the box of condoms she kept around, mostly because she felt she should rather than because of actual need. There were still three inside, and according to the box she had a whole month until they expired. Lucky her.

Now it was just a matter of waiting until Raoul showed up then deciding if she should proposition him. The downside was if he said no, it would be awkward between them and she could kiss the whole pregnancy-buddy offer goodbye. Not that she was counting on it, really.

She had no idea what he thought of her. He probably liked her, but liking and wanting were two very different things. The last thing she wanted was mercy sex. Being pitiful was about the worst outcome possible.

There was also his past to consider. All those groupies throwing themselves at him. They’d probably been a lot more perfect than she could ever hope to be. On her best day, she was pretty, but most of the time she was firmly average.

She spent the next ten minutes making herself crazy by deciding she wasn’t going to ask, then changing her mind. The back-and-forth reasoning was making her dizzy, and she was grateful when she heard a firm knock on the door.

She pulled it open. “Right on time.”

That was as much as she got out. Raoul stepped into her small apartment and seemed to fill the space. He was tall and broad and suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the room.

“Hi,” he said, handing her a bottle of white wine, then leaning in and kissing her cheek. “You look great.”

There were probably words she was supposed to say, but speaking was impossible.

He’d changed for their evening. Maybe even showered. His knit shirt was casually tucked into khakis, but the fabric seemed to cling to every muscle. He smelled clean and sexy and looked so tempting he was probably flirting with breaking the law. Her mouth watered.

“Thank you,” she managed. She thrust the wine back at him. “You want to open this?”

“Sure.”

He glanced around, found the kitchen and made his way there. She followed, then fished the wine opener out of a drawer and handed it to him. She collected glasses and set them on the counter.

“I saw my doctor today,” she said. “We talked about the next steps and I got my physical.”

He turned to face her. “What did she say?”

“That there’s no reason why I can’t deliver Crystal’s babies to term. Apparently getting them implanted isn’t too bad.”

Saying the words made it all seem a little too real, she thought, feeling a bit light-headed. “Two weeks later, I take a pregnancy test.”

His dark gaze never wavered. “You’d have all three done at the same time?”

“She thinks that would be best. Apparently there’s a chance some of them might not survive the thawing process. But even if they all do, three is considered okay.”

He handed her a glass of wine. “You ready for this?”

“No, but it’s not like I’m suddenly going to get ready. I think plunging ahead is the best plan. I don’t want to talk myself out of this.”

“You don’t have to do it. You don’t have to have Crystal’s babies.”

She clutched her wine in both hands. “Yeah, I do. It’s what she wanted and she’s my friend. I would have done anything to save her. Bone marrow, a kidney, whatever. None of that would have helped, so I’m going to have her children and raise them as my own.”

Emotions moved through his eyes, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “You’re a helluva woman, Pia O’Brian.”

“Not really, but thanks for thinking I am.”

She led the way into the living room. She curled up in one corner of the sofa, and Raoul sat at the opposite end. He faced her.

“Nervous?” he asked.

She was, but not for the reasons he thought. “Yes, but I’m dealing.”

He looked around at her bright apartment. “How many bedrooms do you have here?”

She blinked at him. “One.” Reality hit her. “I’m going to have to move, aren’t I? I’ll need more bedrooms.” She thought of the two flights of stairs she went up and down several times a day. There was no way she could deal with them and a stroller…or three.

He reached his arm across the back of the red sofa and patted her shoulder, then left his fingers lightly resting against her. “You don’t have to move today. Don’t worry about it. When the time comes, I’ll help.”

“I’ve lived here six years,” she murmured, aware of the heat of his touch. “I don’t want to move.”

What other changes would there be? How many things hadn’t she thought of?

“Can we please change the subject?” she asked. “I’m starting to freak.”

“Don’t freak. You’re not even pregnant yet.”

“Yet” being the key word.

She forced herself to breathe slowly, then she took a sip of her wine. “I can do this,” she said, more to herself than him. “I’m strong. The town will help.”

“Don’t forget me,” he added. “Your pregnancy buddy.”

She still thought there was something odd about that, but why spoil his fun?

“Have you been a pregnancy buddy before?”

His expression tightened, then he relaxed. “No, but my girlfriend in high school thought she was pregnant.”

“What did you do?”

“Offered to marry her.”

“Of course you did.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s the nice-guy thing.” She sighed. “I’m sure everyone adored you in high school.”

“I wouldn’t say adored.”

“Sure they did.” She sipped her wine. “I was a cheerleader.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Still have the uniform?”

She laughed. “Yes, but that’s not the point. A lot of people don’t like cheerleaders. It’s the whole popular-girl thing.”

“Were you popular?”

“Sort of.” At least until her life had crashed in around her. “I wasn’t exactly humble and caring,” she admitted. “The phrase ‘mean girl’ has been tossed around.”

“You’re not mean.”

“I was. I made fun of people, flaunted what I had. I know now it was an uncomfortable combination of immaturity and insecurity, but it’s not as if that information will make any of my victims feel better.”

“You had victims?”

“I had people I picked on.” They were having the last laugh now, she thought sadly. Most of them had wonderful lives, while she lived in a one-bedroom apartment and couldn’t even get a cat to like her.

“You’re pretty hard on yourself,” he said.

“Maybe I deserve it.”

“Maybe everyone gets to screw up every now and then.”

“I’d like it to be that simple.”

“Why does it have to be complicated?” he asked.

An interesting question, she thought, allowing herself to get lost in his eyes.

Raoul was one of the good guys. Around him a girl could let herself feel safe. Not to mention a lot of other things that were a lot more yummy than safe.

A flash of courage swept through her. She set down her wine, braced herself for flat-out rejection and said, “Do you want to have sex?”

CHAPTER EIGHT

RAOUL FELT LIKE A CARTOON character. He wanted to shake his head to make sure he was hearing right. Assuming he was, he was pretty sure his eyes were about to bug out.

“Excuse me?” he asked, standing and staring down at her.

Pia sighed. “Do you want to have sex? With me. The doctor mentioned it. Not that it was important for the implantation procedure, because it isn’t. Her point was I’m about to be pregnant and then I’ll have babies and little kids and it’s probably going to be a long time before a guy finds me the least bit desirable, assuming that even ever happens again. So having sex now, sort of a last fling, makes sense.”

She’d said most of that without drawing in a breath. She did so now, then stared at him, her hazel eyes wide and wary. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I have no idea what you think of me. I’m not hideous or anything, but it’s not like I have a plaque proving I’m really great in bed. I thought maybe it would fall under the pregnancy-buddy umbrella, but maybe not.”

She tilted her head. “Fall under the umbrella. Is that a mixed metaphor?”

She was asking him if he wanted to have sex with her and then had switched the conversation to grammar?

She stared at him with wide eyes. Hope fluttered there, along with a hint of apprehension. He would guess she was braced for rejection.

Sex with Pia? He definitely found her sexy and attractive, but he’d never planned to go further than looking. There were plenty of reasons not to do this—the biggest of which was they would be living in a very small town together. There wasn’t much room for awkward.

She bit her lower lip. The vulnerable movement hit him like a fist to the gut. Pia was pretty. The proud set of her shoulders, the faint glow on her cheeks. The way her brown curls tumbled to her shoulders.

He’d always been the kind of guy who tried to look past external appeal to the person inside. The fact that Pia was going to have someone else’s children, simply because she’d been asked, made her one of the best people he’d ever known. And he’d really liked the kisses they’d shared.

The idea of sex—no, making love—appealed more and more with every passing second. He knew this was a one-time deal. That after she had the babies, she would have other things on her mind. But something inside him told him a single night with Pia would be a night worth remembering.

He took a step toward her. “I did offer to be your pregnancy buddy,” he said quietly. “To do anything you asked, to take care of all your needs.”

“This isn’t exactly the same as running out for ice cream in the rain.”

He pulled her to her feet, then put his hands on her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “It’s a whole lot more fun than that.”

She swallowed. “You really don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have asked. I don’t want you to feel pressured or like it’s—”

He leaned in and pressed his mouth against hers. The act cut off her words, which wasn’t a bad thing. Sometimes silence was better.

Her lips were soft and yielding. Tempting. Her arms wrapped around him. She was warm and slight, but tall enough that he didn’t have to bend too far to kiss her again. A good thing, because he found he liked kissing her and wanted it to go on for a good long time.

Pia had expected something of a discussion, or at the very least, ground rules on the whole pregnancy-buddy-sex thing.

Apparently not, she thought as Raoul’s warm mouth claimed hers. The kiss was both hungry and tender, his lips making her want to melt into his tall, strong body.

He held her against him, her body pressing against his. He was all broad shoulders and hard planes. He smelled as good as he looked—masculine, but clean. There was a slight rasp of stubble on his cheeks, but not so much that she minded.

It had been a long time since a man had swept her away, she thought as she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself over to his kiss. She slid her fingers through his dark hair. The short, layered strands felt like cool silk. He moved his hands down her body to her hips. One had slipped to her rear.

When he cupped the curve, squeezing gently, her stomach clenched. She surged closer, bringing her belly up against him. She was immediately aware of the hard thickness—proof that he wasn’t doing this out of pity. Thank God!

He touched his tongue to her bottom lip. She parted for him, then rested her fingers on his broad shoulders. He slid into her mouth, moving with slow, languid strokes designed to make her beg for more.

She held in the whimper and gave herself over to the kiss. Everything about this moment felt right. Hunger filled her, burning hard and hot, making her want to get closer, to touch him and be touched.

She moved her tongue against his, going faster than he had, urging him on. The hands holding her hips tightened, then began the slow journey up her sides. She held her breath until he cupped her breasts in his hands, then she exhaled slowly. He moved from underneath, squeezing her breasts gently, then rubbed his thumbs against her already hard nipples.

At the first brush, she felt a jolt all the way down to her toes. At the second, she had to hold back the need to cry out for more. She reminded herself not to beg—men found it very unattractive. But it was difficult to stay rational and focused when every whisper of contact against her sensitized breasts made her want to scream.

He lowered his head to her jaw and kissed his way to her ear. Then he dipped lower, nibbling along her neck to her collarbone. He paused there to taste her skin, an openmouthed kiss that was surprisingly arousing. Or maybe it was the way he continued to tease her breasts, or the feel of his body so close to hers.

Before she could decide, he’d cupped her face in his hands and was kissing her again. Deep, soul-stirring kisses that made her ache with longing and need. Without realizing what she was doing, she found herself unbuttoning the front of her dress. Suddenly the fabric gapped open to her waist.

Before she could figure out how to stop or what to do next, he’d straightened and pulled her arms free, leaving the dress to pool at her hips. He ran his fingers from wrists to shoulders, then down over her breasts and behind her. With an expert flick of his fingers, her bra came undone and fell away.

In less than a heartbeat, he’d replaced the silky lace with his bare hands. Skin on skin, she thought, her eyes sinking closed. He touched her gently, exploring her curves.

She focused on every stroke, each brush of finger and palm. He moved closer and closer to her nipples but didn’t touch them. The contact heightened her arousal, making her knees weak and her body hungry. Then, when she was about to grab his hands in hers and place them where she wanted, he bent down and took her left nipple in his mouth.

The hot, wet, openmouth kiss made her breath catch. He sucked deeply, making her arch against him. A ribbon of erotic connection tugged deep in her belly. Between her thighs she felt herself swelling, wanting.

He shifted to the other breast. She touched his head, then his shoulders, feeling his strength. Wanting poured through her, making her feel delicious and alive.

He straightened. “We should move the party,” he whispered, unbuttoning his shirt, then shrugging out of it.

She nodded, even as her gaze was caught by the sight of his broad chest. She wanted to touch and taste, to explore, but he was already moving away. As she followed, she undid the rest of the buttons on her dress and stepped out of both it and her shoes as she walked.

By the time they met up again in the bedroom, he was naked. She’d never gotten the concept of male beauty before seeing him, but she did now. His chest was a series of defined muscles, his waist narrow, his legs strong. He was hard and ready, his expression intense and focused. Just looking at him made her tremble. As she moved toward him, he grabbed her around the waist and they both tumbled onto the bed.

“You have condoms, right?” he asked, right before he kissed her.

She nodded.

“Good. We don’t want my sperm swimming around with Crystal’s embryos. It would get crowded down there.”

He grinned as he spoke, his eyes alive with humor and desire. It was an irresistible combination. Then he was kissing her again. She let herself get lost in the feel of his mouth on hers.

Their tongues tangled in an erotic dance. Then he moved to her neck, as he had before. The man had skills, she thought dreamily, feeling every part of her heat and melt. When he took her earlobe into his mouth and sucked, she had to bite her lower lip to keep from crying out. When she felt the weight of him as he stretched out next to her, it was all she could do to keep her legs from falling open in a shameless invitation. She wanted him…all of him…on top, inside, pleasuring them both into madness.

He moved to her breasts, and it was just as good as it had been before. With each tug of his mouth on her nipples, she felt an answering shiver between her legs. She could feel herself swelling for him.

His mouth moved lower. He paused long enough to pull off her panties in one smooth, easy move. She waited for the feel of his kiss on her belly, but there was nothing. Her heart beat once, twice, a third time. Then she felt the warmth of his lips on the inside of her ankle.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

She felt as well as heard him chuckle. “And here I thought you were pretty and smart.”

He kissed his way up to her knee, then moved between her legs and nibbled higher. Up and up until he pressed an openmouthed kiss on the very inside of her thigh.

She opened her legs even wider, knowing it was either that or plead. Then his mouth was on the most sensitive part of her. She exhaled as warm, soul-stirring pleasure flooded her.

He moved slowly, as if discovering all of her. The touch was perfect—quick enough to excite, gentle enough that everything he did was magic. He paused to tell her how good it felt to do this to her, which was nearly as arousing as the finger he slipped inside her.

As he stroked her, he settled his mouth on that one tight and swollen spot. He brushed it with his tongue, which made her squirm. He moved in tandem, his tongue keeping time with his finger. Back and forth, in and out. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had done this to her. The last time she’d felt that liquid heat flowing through her body, the promise of release only seconds away.

She tried to hold back, wanting to savor the moment for as long as possible. Although the end would be great, there was something to be said for anticipation. But it was like swimming upstream. Exhausting and ultimately impossible. Every flick of his tongue pushed her closer. When he closed his lips around her very center and sucked, she lost herself to the explosion.

Muscles clenched and released. Every cell in her body quivered as the pleasure crashed into her, through her. She surrendered to the sensations, arching back her head and gasping as she came again and again.

When she could think again, she managed to open her eyes and saw Raoul smiling at her, his expression self-satisfied.

“You’re not all that,” she told him breathlessly.

“Sure I am.”

He leaned in and licked her nipple. She shuddered and had to resist the need to draw him closer so they could do it all again. Instead she pulled open the nightstand drawer and removed the box of condoms.

Raoul frowned. “Is this it?”

“What do you mean? Are they the wrong kind?”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “There are only three.”

Her mind went blank. “Only?”

“This is supposed to be your last fling. Shouldn’t it be memorable?”

“I figured once was enough.”

He pulled out a condom and tossed the package on the nightstand. “Then I’m going to have to show you otherwise.”

* * *

PIA LAY ON THE BED, doing her best to catch her breath. Her mind was still fuzzy, her body unable to obey even the slightest command. Apparently the body had involuntary systems for a reason. Something had to keep her heart beating. Otherwise, a session with a guy like Raoul could be deadly.

Had she been able, she would have turned her head to look at him. But that would have required more energy than she could muster. Blinking was about all she could manage. As he’d predicted, they’d used all three condoms. She’d come in ways she hadn’t known were possible, in positions that were at the very least questionable. In the last five hours, she’d had more orgasms than she’d probably had in her entire life. If doing him was wrong, she didn’t want to be right.

He rolled toward her. His handsome face came into view, along with a bit of bare shoulder. His skin had a golden cast and looked as good as it tasted. Talk about temptation. She was exhausted and still shuddering through her recovery, but the thought of being with him again was enough to cause her nerve endings to cheer.

“You okay?” he asked.

She managed a smile. “Fishing for compliments?”

“Maybe.”

“The earth didn’t just move—it did a two-and-a-half somersault with a twist.”

“Good.” He brushed the hair off her face, then lightly kissed her. “Can I stay?”

She swore softly. Of course he would ask to stay. Because he was perfect. Funny, smart, good-looking, great in bed and sensitive. Oh, and rich. The man had money. So why wasn’t he involved with someone? Why wasn’t he married? She knew there was a divorce in his past, but why hadn’t some enterprising woman snapped him up?

Not that she cared, she reminded herself. She had embryos to worry about.

“Earth to Pia,” he said, still gazing down at her.

“You can stay,” she whispered.

Under normal circumstances she would have forced him out in the name of self-preservation. Having him around could be dangerous to her heart. But that wasn’t going to be an issue. In a few days, she would return to her doctor’s office and possibly be implanted with Crystal’s embryos. Then she would be pregnant. Falling in love wasn’t going to happen to her—at least not in the romantic sense. No guy would be interested in a woman with three kids who weren’t even hers, and she couldn’t imagine having even an extra ounce of energy left over for anything close to dating.

So it was perfectly safe to roll on her side and have him slide in next to her. She snuggled against his warm body, feeling his strong arms circle her waist and pull her close. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to believe it was all real. At least for tonight. No matter what, she could count on reality to return in the morning.

* * *

FOOL’S GOLD HIGH SCHOOL sat above town on the road that led up to the ski resort. The campus was only about five years old, with a state-of-the-art science building, a large stadium and an auditorium that held five hundred.

Raoul stood onstage, facing the students filling every seat. He’d pushed aside the podium, preferring to walk back and forth.

“I didn’t start out rich and famous,” he told the kids. “When I was your age, I was in foster care, fighting the system responsible for feeding and clothing me. I knew no one cared about me. Not as a person. I was a case number to the social worker and steady income for my foster family.”

He paused and met the gaze of several of the younger guys in the audience.

“Some families really do care about the kids they take in, and I applaud them. I’ve heard the stories, but I didn’t see it much in action. The social workers I knew were overworked. They tried their best, but they weren’t given the tools or the resources. So I got involved in some things that I should have avoided.”

He walked to the edge of the stage and stared out at the students. “Gangs can look pretty good from afar. They give you a place to belong. You get status from being with the right crowd. You’re around people who accept you. If they’re crazy enough, you never know what’s going to happen next and that can be fun, too.”

He shrugged. “It can also leave you worse off than you ever thought. Pregnant. In jail. Or dead.” He let the words hang there for a long time.

“When you’re sixteen, the future seems a long way away, but I’m here to tell you the value of thinking long term. Of knowing what you want and going after it, regardless of how many people tell you it’s not possible. I spent the first few months of my senior year homeless, living in an abandoned building. I had friends who helped out, but what made the biggest difference was I found someone who could believe in me. And he taught me to believe in myself. That’s what you have to do. Believe you can make it.”

He crossed to the other side of the stage and looked out at those kids. “The dictionary tells us a mentor is a trusted coach or a guide. Be what you want to see in someone else. Find a younger kid and get involved. It’s like throwing a rock in a lake. The ripples stretch out forever.”

He talked a little more about the importance of doing the right thing, then said he would answer questions.

There were the usual ones about playing for the Cowboys and what it had been like to take his college team through two undefeated seasons.

“I didn’t do it,” he told them honestly. “I was one member of an excellent team. Everyone did his part and that’s why we won. Football isn’t golf. It’s not just you and the ball. It’s everyone around you. Any team is only as strong as its weakest player.”

A small girl in the third row raised her hand.

He pointed to her. “Yes?”

“Have you ever been a Big Brother? My uncle has a boy he’s been helping for a couple of years now.”

“Good for him,” Raoul said. “As for being a Big Brother, it’s hard for a guy like me to help someone one-on-one. The media finds out and it gets messy. So I give back this way—talking to schools, sharing ideas, working with teachers.”

He rattled on for a couple more minutes and was relieved that the students seemed to buy it and the teachers in the room were nodding.

He wanted them to stand up and yell at him. On what planet would a former football player be so damned famous that he couldn’t take a kid bowling? Guys way better known than him had private lives.

The truth was less pretty. He didn’t want to get personally involved. He didn’t want to care. The price was too high. Better to keep things superficial. That way no one got burned, including him.

A philosophy Pia wouldn’t agree with, he thought as he finished the speech. She was the kind who would leap in first and ask questions later. That’s what she was doing with the embryos. Talk about a woman with conviction and courage.

And a way about her, he thought as he finished up and smiled as they applauded. Three nights ago, he’d stayed with her. Ever since his bed had been a little colder, a little more empty.

But he knew the value of going it alone and the danger of making something more than it was. He knew how a heart could be ripped apart and left for dead. No way he was going through that again.

* * *

PIA WAITED NERVOUSLY on the padded table.

“It’s okay,” the tech told her. “Ultrasounds don’t hurt.”

Pia eyed the wand. “There has to be a downside.”

“Sorry, no. We even heat the goopy gel we use on your tummy. This is one of the easiest medical tests.”

“It beats a barium enema.”

The other woman, Jenny her name tag said, laughed. “Have you ever had a barium enema?”

“I’ve heard rumors. They can’t be fun.”

“No, they can’t, but this is easy.”

Jenny pulled up Pia’s paper gown and squirted warm gel onto her lower stomach. Then she lowered the wand and rubbed it along Pia’s skin.

There was no pain at all. Just a sensation of something warm and flat moving across her. Okay, she thought. Note to self—ultrasounds aren’t bad.

A few minutes later Jenny covered her then excused herself. Pia lay there in the dimly lit room, doing her best to breathe. Soon she would find out if she was ready for implantation. If she was, then it was crunch time. Was she really going to go through with this? Have Crystal’s babies? Once they were thawed, there was no backing out.

Before she could scramble from the table and run screaming through the building, Dr. Galloway appeared.

“I heard you’re ready,” the doctor said with a smile. “Let’s see.”

She squeezed on fresh gel and studied the monitor.

“Very nice,” she murmured. “Yes, Pia. I would say we could implant tomorrow, if you want.” The doctor touched her arm. “We can also wait a month, if you need more time.”

Ready, as in ready? As in now?

Pia opened her mouth, then closed it. Her chest got tight, as if something heavy pressed down. She felt nauseous and light-headed. Ready.

“The e-eggs can be ready by tomorrow?” she asked, her voice faint.

“Yes. We’d schedule you back for right after lunch.” Her doctor put down the wand and wiped Pia’s belly. “You don’t have to decide today. You’ll be just as ready next month.”

True, but a month was a long time to wait. Pia was afraid she would freak out even more, or at the very least, try to talk herself out of moving forward.

She sucked in a breath and braced herself. “What time tomorrow?”

* * *

APPARENTLY DR. GALLOWAY’S definition of painless and Pia’s weren’t exactly the same. Having a catheter inserted was a borderline creepy experience, but Pia did her best to relax and keep breathing.

“All done,” her doctor told her seconds later. She stood and drew the gown down over Pia’s legs, then put a blanket on her. “Lie here for about twenty minutes to let things settle. Then you’re free to go.”

“And I don’t have to act any different?” Pia asked. “Avoid strenuous activities, that sort of thing?”

“I’d stay quiet for the next few hours. You have the vitamins I gave you?”

Dr. Galloway had given her samples the previous day, along with a prescription she’d already filled. She’d taken the first prenatal vitamin that morning, downing the pill with a disgustingly healthy breakfast.

“Yes.”

“Then that’s all you need for now.”

The doctor dimmed the lights and left the room. Pia tried to get comfortable on the padded table. She closed her eyes and placed her hands on her lower stomach.

“Hi,” she whispered. “I’m Pia. I knew your mom. She was amazing and wonderful and you would have really loved her.”

Thinking about her friend made her eyes burn. She blinked away tears and drew another deep breath.

“She, ah, died a few months ago. Over the summer. It was sad and we all miss her. Your dad is gone, too, which might make you think you’re getting off to a rough start. But you’re not. You see, both your parents wanted to have children. Your mom especially. She wanted to have all three of you. But she couldn’t, what with being dead and all.”

She groaned. Talk about screwing up the conversation. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I should have planned this better. What I’m saying is she really wanted this. She wanted you to be born. I know I’m not her, but I’m going to do my best, I swear. I’m going to read books and talk to women who are good moms. I’ll be there for you.”

She thought about her own mother abandoning her to move to Florida. “I’ll never leave you,” she vowed. “No matter what, I’ll be there for you. I won’t run off and forget about you.” She pressed lightly on her stomach. “Can you feel that? It’s me. I’m right here.”

Fear lurked in the background. The possibility of cosmic punishment for wishing away her pregnancy in college. But the truth was, she couldn’t change the past. She could only pray that the souls of the innocents were protected. That if anyone was to be punished, it would only be her.

“I’m sorry about that, too,” she whispered. “I was wrong.” Despite Dr. Galloway’s promise that it hadn’t been her fault, she couldn’t help wondering if it was.

She heard a light knock on the door.

“Come in.”

Raoul entered, looking impossibly tall and male. “Hey. The doc said it’s done.”

Pia tried to smile. “That’s what they tell me. I don’t feel any different.”

“Not hearing voices?” he asked with a grin.

“I don’t think hearing voices is ever a good sign.”

He pulled up the stool and sat, taking her hand in his. “Scared?”

“Beyond terrified. I was telling them to hold on tight and that I’d be here for them.”

He gazed into her eyes. “I’m going to tell you the same thing, Pia. Keep holding on.”

Once again she was fighting tears. “For Keith?”

“And for you. I need to do this.”

She managed a quivering smile. “So it’s all about you? Typical male.”

“That’s me.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “What happens next?” he asked.

She tried not to focus on the warmth of his skin and the way he made her feel safe. Even if Raoul lasted through the pregnancy, there was no way he was sticking around for anything else. Getting used to having him around wasn’t an option.

“I stay here until the nurse kicks me out. In theory I can go back to work, but I’m heading home. I’m going to spend the afternoon on my sofa. It’s the whole gravity thing. I want to give these little guys a real shot.”

“Okay. What are you in the mood for?”

For a second she thought he meant sex. The part of her that had been dazzled and satiated wanted to beg for a repeat performance. But there was no way they could do it. Not right after the implantation.

“Italian?” he asked. “Mexican? I’ll get takeout.”

Oh, sure. Food. “Either. I’m not that hungry.”

“You will be in a few hours, and you have to eat.”

“For the babies,” she said, keeping her free hand on her belly. “Do you think I should sing to them?”

He chuckled. “Do you want to?”

“I’m not very good.”

“You could give them a cheer. Do you remember any from high school?”

She laughed. “I appreciate the thought, but it’s even too weird for me.”

He stroked her cheek. “Look at you. Having babies. What would your friends say?”

“My current friends will be completely supportive. The ones who know aren’t even surprised. But my friends from before…” She sighed. “As I told you before, I wasn’t exactly the nicest girl in high school. Too much attitude and money. Not enough compassion.”

He looked interested rather than judgmental. “When did that change?”

“Early in my senior year of high school.”

The door opened and the nurse looked in. “You’re free to go, Pia. When you’re dressed, stop by the desk. We’ve made an appointment for two weeks from now.”

“Thanks.”

She sat up. Raoul brushed her mouth with his.

“I’ll wait outside for you,” he said.

“Okay.”

She watched him leave, then carefully slid to her feet and started to dress. As she pulled on her jeans, she realized she trusted Raoul to be there for her. At least for now. After all this time, it was nice to have someone to depend on.

CHAPTER NINE

PIA SAT AT A TABLE IN front of the high school stage. “You’re kidding, right?” she asked the mayor.

Marsha rested her elbows on the table and dropped her head to her hands. “I wish I was. I went to the bathroom. I swear I was gone all of two minutes. By the time I got back, they’d voted to have a talent show featuring the single women in town. I guess they want the busloads of men to get a good look at what’s available.”

When Pia had been asked to attend an audition, she’d had no idea what she was getting into. At least fifty women were here, which she found stunning, and not in a happy way. They were dressed in everything from tutus to shepherdess costumes. A few wanted to start by listing everything they could cook and/or bake. One woman even smiled broadly, saying she had all her own teeth and not a single cavity.

“Like that makes her good breeding material?” Pia asked, eyeing the crowd. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

“I wish I could.”

“When did we get desperate? I’ve always known there was something of a man shortage, but so what? We’re happy—things get done. There are more women doing traditionally male jobs in town than probably anywhere else in the country. Isn’t that a good thing?”

Marsha raised her head and sighed. “I’ve been told that there are women who want to settle down—get married and have a family. That’s more difficult here. The choice is to pick from the limited stock on hand or move.”

“Stock on hand?” And women complained that men objectify them. “I don’t understand this.”

“Me, either, but it’s too late for us to stop the flood. Men are arriving daily.”

A young woman in her twenties got up onstage. She wore a pale pink leotard and a short, wrapped skirt. She nodded and music poured out of the hidden speakers. Within seconds, the contestant was singing and dancing to a popular Broadway musical.

“She’s good,” Pia murmured. “What am I supposed to do? Make notes on who I like best? Are we really going to have a talent show?”

“I don’t see any way around it. I’m just so humiliated.”

“Um, no. That honor goes to the woman who juggled pies she’d baked.” Pia had always loved Fool’s Gold. The town had traditions and polite residents. People cared about each other. Had a single chapter in a thesis and a busload or two of men really changed everything?

Maybe there was something in the air, she thought. Something promoting change. Look at her. Just two days ago, she’d had embryos implanted. She’d been there for the procedure and had spent the rest of the afternoon lying on her sofa, and she still couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around the concept. Being pregnant was just a word. More concept than reality. How could she possibly be pregnant?

Yet Dr. Galloway had put the embryos in her. Were they hanging on as she’d asked them to? Were they growing, getting bigger and stronger?

She touched her hand to her belly, as if she could feel them inside of her.

Scattered applause brought her back to the auditions. She clapped as well, then turned to find Marsha staring at her.

“Where did you go?” the mayor asked. “She was pretty good, so it can’t have been the singing and dancing.”

“Sorry. I’ll pay attention.” Pia picked up her pen and pulled the notepad closer. “Who’s next?”

Marsha continued to study her. “Is everything all right?”

“I’m fine.”

The mayor didn’t look convinced.

Pia drew in a breath. “Crystal left me her embryos.”

Marsha’s face relaxed into a smile. “Did she? I knew someone would get them. You must be very touched, and equally terrified. That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“Tell me about it. It’s not about owning the embryos. Crystal expects me to have her babies.”

Marsha nodded. “That’s a lot to ask of a friend. Are you going to agree?”

“I…” Pia drew in a breath. “I had them implanted two days ago. There were three embryos. They all survived the thawing, which I guess doesn’t always happen. We’ll know in two weeks if they were able to embed or implant or whatever it’s called.”

Marsha looked stunned for a moment, then hugged her. “Good for you. What an amazing thing to do. I’m so proud.”

The words made Pia feel good. “I’m mostly in shock,” she admitted. “Nothing about this is real to me.”

“That will take time.”

“I have nine months.” A number that she couldn’t relate to. Knowing the facts about a pregnancy was very different than it actually happening to her. “I guess even now my body could be changing, but I don’t feel any different.”

“You will. Especially if you have triplets.”

Pia winced. “Don’t say that. I can’t comprehend one baby, let alone three. I’m going to have these babies by myself.”

Marsha squeezed her hand. “We’ll all be there for you, Pia. You know that, don’t you?”

She nodded. “Everything is surreal. I keep going back to the same question. Why would Crystal pick me?”

“Because she loved you and trusted you.”

“I guess.”

The mayor smiled. “I have a personal request.”

“Sure.”

“Can you please have boys?”

Pia laughed. “That part is already determined. Sorry. You should have had the talk with Crystal.”

“I hate being late to anything.” She turned back to the stage where a couple of guys were dragging on two-dimensional cardboard trees. “Dear God, what now?”

* * *

RAOUL WALKED THROUGH the main building of the camp. Less than a month ago, the last of the summer campers had headed home, and the cleaning crew had begun the process of winterizing the structures. Now, several hundred kids filled the various rooms, pinning flyers to walls and driving away the silence with their laughter.

He still had ideas for a year-round camp, but until he could make that happen, using the facility for the temporary elementary school was the right thing to do.

The preliminary meeting on repairing and rebuilding the burned school had been grim at best. The damage was extensive, the funds limited. Realistically, the new elementary school wouldn’t be ready for occupancy for nearly two years. Which put his plans on hold for at least that long. His biggest concern was keeping Dakota Hendrix working for him. She was smart and capable. He had a feeling headhunters called her regularly. All he had to offer her was a good salary, work close to her family, running the summer camp and the promise that when they got the camp back she would be in charge of the new program.

The school had contracted her services for a few hours a week. She provided counseling and acted as the liaison between the school and the camp. So far there hadn’t been any problems, and while Raoul didn’t anticipate trouble, he’d learned it was always best to be prepared.

He glanced at the big clock on the wall. It was a few minutes before noon. Now the hallway was relatively quiet, but in about two minutes the bell would ring and children would explode out of their classrooms and head for the cafeteria.

He knew because he was here most school days. Somehow he’d gotten roped into playing ball with a group of kids during the lunch hour. He didn’t mind too much and he was careful not to spend more time with any one kid. In a group they were great, but he didn’t want any of them getting too attached.

He was willing to get involved—to a point. But some distance was a good thing.

When the bell rang, releasing the kids for lunch, doors opened and slammed into the wall. High-pitched voices broke the silence. In a matter of seconds, he found himself surrounded by a dozen or so boys, all clamoring for him to have lunch with them.

He was about to refuse them all—with the promise that he would meet them on the playground after—when he spotted that skinny redheaded kid. Peter, Pia had said his name was.

“You know my friend Pia,” he told the boy.

Peter grinned. “Yeah. We met in the park. She’s really cool, you know, for a girl.”

“I’ll pass along the compliment.”

“You gonna have lunch with us?” Drew, Peter’s friend, asked. “We’ll save you a seat and everything.”

Raoul hesitated, then nodded. “Sure. I can do that.” Maybe he would get a chance to talk to Peter and find out if there was any kind of a problem at home.

They headed for the cafeteria and got in line. Raoul grabbed a tray with the rest of the kids, then smiled at the older woman scooping out mac and cheese.

“I won’t take any if there’s not enough,” he said.

“Oh, we always make extra. Most of the teachers eat here, too,” she said and dumped a portion of the pasta onto a plate.

Green beans followed, along with fruit. He passed on very green pudding, grabbed two cartons of milk in one hand, then had to hold in a grin as the boys with him tried to do the same.

Their hands were too small to pick up both cartons at once, so they settled for one and followed him to a low table by the window.

He stared for a second, not sure he would fit on the bench, then realized all the tables were scaled down. Kid-size, he thought humorously, wondering if he was heavy enough to tip one. He lowered himself carefully, centering his weight on the bench. Things seemed steady enough.

The kids gathered around him, pushing to sit closer, until he was crammed in on the bench seat. He picked up the first carton of milk, opened it, then drained it in three long swallows. When he set the carton back down, every boy at the table was staring.

He wiped his mouth self-consciously. “So, ah, how are you guys liking the new school?”

“It’s great,” one boy said. “When it snows, my mom says we’re going to have trouble getting up the mountain. Maybe we’ll have snow days.”

“Sweet!” another boy crowed.

“Tell us what it was like when you played football,” a third boy pleaded. “My dad says you were the best ever.”

“Tell your dad thanks,” Raoul said with a grin. “I was good, but I’m not sure about being the best. I always tried to do better. That’s what defines success.”

“I’d like to play football,” Peter said. “But I’m small.”

“You’re not short,” his friend told him. “Just skinny.”

“Don’t worry about being small,” Raoul told him. “You’ll grow. Now’s the time to work on basics. Running, coordination. You can get that from any sport. You can also start learning about the game.”

“I want to play football, too.”

“Me, too!”

Raoul made a note to talk to the principal about starting a spring football program. Nothing too physical—just some practice with kids split into teams. To give them a taste of the possibilities.

“My sister says she wants to play football,” the dark-haired boy sitting next to Raoul said. “I keep tellin’ her, girls don’t play football. But she’s bigger than me and when she gets mad, she hits me.”

A couple of the guys laughed. “Then maybe you should stop saying it,” Raoul suggested.

“I guess. But you could tell her. She’d have to listen to you.”

He held up both hands. “No, thanks. Your sister can do anything she sets her mind to.”

The boy sighed heavily. “That’s what Mom says, too, and Dad just keeps quiet.”

A smart man, Raoul thought.

“My parents are divorced,” the boy on Peter’s right announced. “I live with them on different weeks. They have houses right across the street from each other.”

“How’s that working?” Raoul asked.

“I dunno. It’s kind of stupid. If they can live that close, why can’t they live together?”

“Marriage can be tough,” Raoul told him. “The important thing is that your parents love you. Do you have anyone to talk to, like an older brother or an aunt or uncle?”

“My uncle Carl is really nice. He listens.”

“Then keep talking to him. Don’t let stuff build up inside. That’s never good.”

“My parents are divorced, too,” another boy said.

“I have five sisters,” the kid on the end said. Most of the boys at the table groaned.

“That’s a lot of girls,” Raoul told him. “Are you the youngest?”

“No. I’m in the middle. They’re everywhere. My dad built me a tree house so I’d have my own man cave.”

“Good for you.”

During the conversation, Raoul had been watching Peter. The boy finished his lunch without saying much. Just when Raoul was about to suggest they head to the playground, Peter spoke.

“My parents are dead,” he said, staring at his plate. “They died in a car crash two years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Raoul told him.

Peter shrugged. “It was bad, but stuff like that happens.”

Peter’s friend Drew leaned toward Raoul. “He was in the car when it happened. He was there when they died.”

Raoul swore silently. What a nightmare for the kid. He had no idea what to say.

Peter looked at him. “You really think I’ll get big enough to play football in high school?”

“I really do. In fact, let’s go practice some drills right now.”

Peter’s sad face slowly transformed into a smile. “Yeah?”

“Come on. It’ll be fun.”

The boys all stood and grabbed their trays. After dumping them on the counter by the kitchen, they ran for the door leading outside. Peter walked more slowly than the rest.

Raoul caught up with him. “I’m sorry about your folks,” he said. “I never knew my dad. I lost my mom when I was a little older than you. It’s hard.”

Peter nodded without speaking.

Raoul wanted to give him a hug, but he knew there was a firm “no touching” policy at the school. Not knowing what else to do, he vowed to pay attention to the kid whenever he was around, then asked, “Want to learn how to throw farther than everyone else?”

“You can teach me that?” Peter asked eagerly.

“You bet.”

“All right!” The boy laughed and ran toward his friends.

Maybe, for today, it was enough.

* * *

“YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN more clear about the food,” Pia said as she scooped kung pao chicken onto her plate, then licked her finger where a little sauce had dribbled.

Raoul sat across from her at the small table in his kitchen. “Because then you would have jumped right on the pregnancy-buddy wagon?”

“Absolutely. I know it’s not sophisticated or elegant, but offer me a snack and I’m practically your slave.”

“Good to know.”

Humor danced in his dark eyes. Humor that made her want to smile. Of course looking at his face, or any other part of him, made her want to do other things, too. Like ask him to get naked. Or let her get naked. Or touch her. Although she really appreciated the theory of “one last fling,” making love with Raoul had left her hungry for more.

Even if he hadn’t been very explicit on the temporary nature of their relationship, she couldn’t have asked for a replay. Not with the embryos hanging on by a thread…or whatever it was they hung on by. Maybe in a few weeks, when the doctor said everything was normal, she could consider doing the wild thing. But until then, she was only thinking pure and maternal thoughts.

“This may be my last Chinese for the duration,” she said, scooping up a mouthful of fried rice on her fork. “I’ve been reading one of those pregnancy books and I have to watch my salt intake. I also have to give up alcohol, caffeine, over-the-counter medicines and in six or seven months, my ankles. Babies are really demanding.”

He grinned. “Don’t they also say it’s worth it?”

“Sure, but that’s a whole lot easier to write than live. And that’s for later. Right now I’m living in month one of being pregnant. Assuming I am.”

“Any symptoms?”

“Just the voices.”

He grinned.

She picked up an egg roll. “Nothing, really. They say some women can tell the second they conceive, but I guess I’m not that sensitive. Probably a good thing. I have a feeling I’m going to make myself crazy worrying as it is.”

She glanced around at the modest house. The kitchen had been updated with new appliances and countertops, but nothing about the space especially screamed “famous sport celebrity abode.”

“What was your place like in Dallas?” she asked.

“Big.”

“Two bedrooms? Five?”

“Three stories and some rooms I never saw.” He shrugged. “It was more an investment property.”

She tried to remember what else she’d read about him. “Did you move to Los Angeles a while ago?”

He nodded. “About a year after I got married. When we split up, I moved back to Dallas but never settled. Then I retired and here I am.”

She wondered about the ex-Mrs. Moreno but wasn’t sure she was comfortable asking questions. From what she could see, Raoul was annoyingly close to perfect. Why would any woman let him go?

Maybe it hadn’t been her choice. Maybe he’d dumped her.

“Are you going to buy a house in town?” she asked.

“I’ve been looking around,” he admitted. “There’s no hurry. This place works fine.”

“You’re renting from Josh, right?”

Raoul grinned. “He seems to own a lot of the town.”

“He’s into real estate. He had to do something with all his winnings.” She tilted her head. “Is it tough for the two of you to share the spotlight? I mean with your large egos and all.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve seen my ego—you tell me.”

“Very funny. I guess if anyone would have the problem, it would be Josh. He’s been the favorite son for years. But I don’t think he’s the type to care if you get more of the attention.”

“You like Josh.” Raoul didn’t seem to be asking a question.

“Sure. I’ve known him most of my life. He was a few years ahead of me in high school. Very crush-worthy.”

“Did the two of you ever…”

She looked at him, pretending confusion. “Did we ever?”

“Get involved. Date.”

“Oh,” she said with mock understanding. “Did I ever see his ego?”

Raoul stared at her without speaking. She wanted to believe his interest was an important clue into how he felt about her. That even as they sat there, he was realizing he was wildly infatuated with her and seconds away from falling in love.

Or maybe not. Did she really need a guy in her life right now? Weren’t three potential children enough?

“We never dated,” she said. “I’ve never seen his ego.” She grinned. “Although his butt is on a screensaver, so I’ve seen that.” She lowered her voice. “Yours is better.”

“It’s not a competition,” he grumbled.

But he had been asking, she thought, amused. Raoul was such a guy.

She sipped her water, studying him. His dark hair fell across his forehead.

“You need a haircut,” she told him.

“No, thanks. It sounds too complicated, what with the warring hairdressers and all.”

“I’ll take you. Show you off.”

“Thanks.” He leaned toward her. “Have you told anyone about the embryos?”

“Marsha knows. She may or may not have told Charity. I’m waiting. I guess until it’s sure. I just didn’t want a lot of people speculating until there was something to speculate about. It seems wrong. This is Crystal’s moment, not mine.”

“You’re the one who’s going to be pregnant.”

“I’ll be peeing on a stick in a few days,” she said. “I’m thinking that will be a wake-up call.”

“I want to be there.”

“Okay, although that’s lovely, we’re really not that close.”

He shook his head. “In the house, not in the room.”

She wasn’t sure about peeing on command, especially with someone waiting to know the results, but she supposed she could run water or make him hum loudly.

“Okay.”

“Good.”

He handed her the last egg roll. The overhead light caught the thin scar on his cheek.

“What happened?” she asked, pointing to the scar. “Let me guess. You were helping an old lady across the street.”

“Would you feel better if I told you I got it in a bar fight?”

“Yes, but I’d think you were lying.”

“How about if I ran into a fence during practice.”

And impaled his cheek? She shuddered at the thought. “Maybe the bar fight makes a better story.”

“Whatever makes you happy.”

After dinner, he insisted on walking her home.

It was already dark and the night was cool. Pia pulled her sweater around her and crossed her arms over her chest. “We’ll have snow by November,” she said.

“Do you like winter?”

“Most of the time. We don’t get a ton of snow, which is nice. The resort is only a few miles up the mountain, but even a couple thousand feet can make a big difference. They usually get several feet. At least I don’t have to worry about shoveling a driveway. I can walk everywhere.”

He put his arm around her and drew her against him. “If you have any shoveling needs, just let me know.”

“More pregnancy-buddy duties?”

“Absolutely.”

“You should put out a brochure, so I can know what to expect.”

“I’ll do that.”

He felt warm, she thought as she leaned into him. Safe. All the things a pregnant woman could want in a man. Or a nonpregnant woman.

Once again she thought about the woman he’d been married to before and wanted to ask what had happened. But she wouldn’t. For reasons she couldn’t explain, Raoul wanted to take care of her for a little while. For someone who had been on her own since she was seventeen, having someone to lean on felt good. Especially now, she thought, pressing her hand to her belly.

They reached her apartment building. He held open the front door, then followed her up the stairs. When they reached her door, he turned and faced her.

“You going to be okay by yourself?” he asked.

“I’ve been living here for years. I can handle it.”

“If you need anything, call me.”

“I don’t want to interrupt your hot date.”

He adjusted the front of her sweater. “You’re my hot date.”

Words to make her heart beat faster, she thought, knowing giving in to emotional temptation would be a really bad thing.

“Raoul…”

Before she could say anything else, he pressed his mouth to hers.

The kiss was soft and tender, more caring than passionate. He didn’t try to deepen it or even touch her anywhere else. Yet the feel of his lips against hers was devastating. Not from wanting in a sexual way, but because the gentleness ignited a longing she rarely allowed herself to experience. The kiss made her dream about what it would be like to fall in love, to risk her heart, to believe she could have someone to care about. Someone who wouldn’t leave.

Unexpected tears burned in her eyes. She pulled back, dug her keys out of her pocket and opened the door.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said, doing her best to keep her tone light. “Especially for the last egg roll.”

“All part of the full-service plan. You’ll let me know when you’re going to pee on the stick?”

Despite the emptiness inside of her, she laughed. “No one’s ever asked me that before, so I have to say yes.”

“Good. Night, Pia.”

“Good night.”

She waited until he started down the stairs, then she closed the door, locked it and leaned back against the sturdy surface.

“Don’t go there,” she whispered into the quiet room. “Don’t believe in him. You know what will happen if you do.”

What always happened. He would leave. She had a feeling that telling herself she was used to being on her own wouldn’t make dealing without him any easier to take.

CHAPTER TEN

“IT WAS THE WEIRDEST THING,” Pia said as she and Montana sat in Pia’s office, going over details for the bachelor auction. Technically now an auction/talent show.

“I don’t understand,” Montana said, frowning slightly. “Isn’t the auction enough?”

“Apparently not. Nearly thirty women will be getting up onstage and performing in one way or another. They have a three-minute limit.” Pia told her about the woman who bragged about a lack of cavities. “I grew up here. When did the women in town get so distressed about the lack of men?”

“Some women want to be in a relationship.”

“I agree, but not like this.” Pia looked at her friend. “Have you noticed all the extra men in town?”

Montana nodded. “Three guys in a car whistled at me yesterday. It was strange. But kind of nice.”

Pia winced. “Tell me you’re not going to be there, meeting the bus.”

Montana laughed. “I can barely hold down a job, let alone find and keep a man.”

“Tell me about it,” Pia grumbled. “I’ve never had a guy stay. And I can’t figure out why. Is it me? Do I give off the leave-me vibe? Is there something fundamentally wrong with me?”

“No. You’re great. Smart, funny.”

“Well, so are you.”

Montana wrinkled her nose. “No, I’m scattered. I feel like it’s been harder for me to grow up than for everyone else. Maybe that’s why I haven’t found the one.”

“I don’t have an excuse,” Pia told her. Not that it would matter now, what with the implantation and all.

Without meaning to, she found herself thinking about Raoul. She appreciated the pregnancy-buddy support, but she was going to have a serious talk with him about the kissing. They couldn’t keep doing it. She was finding it confusing. Not the kissing itself—that was easy. But the wanting that followed. She was fine wanting sex. But wanting more…that was the real danger.

“I want to find where I belong,” Montana said, then sighed. “Don’t laugh, but I have an interview for a job.”

“Why would I laugh at that?”

“Okay—not laugh exactly. I’m really excited, but just, I’m nervous.”

Pia patted Montana’s arm. “As long as it’s not starring in porn, I’m good with it.”

Montana’s mouth twisted. “Well, crap.”

Pia stared at her. “Oh, God. You’re seriously going to be in a porn movie?”

Montana laughed. “I’m kidding.”

“Very funny. What is it?”

“There’s this guy named Max. He lives outside of town and he trains therapy dogs. They’re the ones who go into hospitals and nursing homes. Being around them makes people feel better. He also trains dogs for a reading program. They’ve done studies and kids who have trouble reading do a lot better reading to a dog rather than a person. I guess they feel they’re not being judged. Anyway, he’s looking for someone to help him run the kennel and help with the training and take the dogs to their various programs.”

Montana drew in a breath. “There’s a lot to learn. When I spoke to Max, he said I would have to take a couple of classes online and get certified as a dog trainer. While I was doing that, I would work in the kennel and get to know the dogs. He’s giving me a four-month trial period. If that goes well, he’ll start me actually working with the therapy dogs. I have an interview in a couple of days.”

Pia was still reeling from the porn joke. “You sound excited.”

“I am. I like the idea of working with the dogs and helping people. I want to make a difference, but I still don’t know if this job is the right one. Dakota and Nevada both just knew what they wanted to do with their lives. I’m an identical triplet. Shouldn’t I be like them?”

“You have to follow your own path and figure out what’s right for you. It sounds like you might have found it.”

“I hope so. I’m tired of messing up.”

“Montana, don’t beat yourself up. When have you messed up?”

Her friend shrugged. “I just turned down a full-time job with benefits. Who does that?”

“Someone who’s thinking long term.”

“I want to be good at something. Look at you. You’re great at your job.”

“I organize festivals. That’s hardly saving the world.”

“You’re an integral part of the community. What you do marks the passage of time and makes memories. Parents look forward to bringing their kids to their first Fall Festival or the Saturday of Giving. People plan their travel schedules to come here for their favorites. What you do changes the way people live.”

Pia stared at her. “Wow. I should ask for a raise.”

Montana laughed. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.” She’d always loved her work, but it had never seemed all that important. Montana’s words made her rethink that concept. “I’d always focused on the fact that I bring tourists to town, which means more money for all the local businesses.”

“It’s not just about money.”

“You’re right. Which is why you shouldn’t feel bad about turning down the full-time library job. You have to think about what’s really important to you.”

“I want to make a difference,” Montana said firmly. “I’ve watched some videos about the service dogs. They’re wonderful. I could be a part of that.”

“Then I hope you get the job.”

“Me, too. It would be nice to find where I belong. I want to be more than my family name.”

“Don’t discount being a Hendrix,” Pia told her. “You’re already part of something wonderful.”

“I know, but they’re just family.”

Pia thought about her relatively solitary life. How she’d been on her own for so long, with no one to depend on. Now she was going to be responsible for three new lives. At least that was the hope.

“Family can be the most important thing of all,” she said, thinking it was sad that Keith and Crystal had only had each other, and now the babies would only have her.

Montana rolled her eyes. “Now you sound like my mother.”

“Denise is wonderful, so thanks for the compliment.”

“You’re welcome.”

* * *

“I DON’T NEED MY HAIR CUT,” Raoul told Pia as they walked down the street.

“You sound whiny,” she told him. “I expect a fairly high level of maturity from my pregnancy buddy. Don’t let me down.”

“When did you get bossy?”

“I always have been,” she said with a laugh. “I thought you would have noticed.”

The day was cool. Pia had pulled on a bright red coat over her jeans and sweater. Her boots made her a little taller, which meant she was the perfect height for kissing, he thought absently.

He liked kissing Pia. He’d liked doing more, but under the circumstances, that wasn’t on the table. She might be pregnant, and neither of them would do anything to hurt the babies. Not that she’d shown any interest in getting back in his bed. Although given what had happened the last time they’d been together, he doubted either of them would say no.

Still, he had a higher purpose here: taking care of Pia as she took care of Crystal’s embryos.

“It’s a simple rule,” Pia told him. “You alternate between the sisters. Today we’re seeing Bella. Next time you’ll go to Julia’s shop.”

“I still think getting my hair cut out of town solves the problem.”

“Coward.”

“Football taught me when to drop back and let my guys cover me.”

She paused by the glass door of the salon. “It doesn’t matter if you go out of town, Raoul. They’ll still be mad at you. Haven’t you figured it out? There’s no way to win this fight, so why not get a front-row seat and enjoy the show?”

“There’s a show?”

She smiled. “Actually, you’re the show.”

She walked inside. He hesitated for a second, then followed her into the salon.

It was midday, midweek and still nearly every station was full. As he entered the well-lit, modern space, every single person—aka woman—turned to stare at him.

A middle-aged woman with dark hair and beautiful brown eyes studied him appraisingly. “Pia, what have you brought me?”

Pia linked her arm through Raoul’s. “Bella, you can borrow him, but you can’t keep him. This is Raoul Moreno. Raoul, please meet Bella Gionni.”

Bella moved toward him, her hand extended. “My pleasure,” she purred. “So strong, so handsome. Josh is my favorite. After all, I’ve known him since he was a boy, but you… You come very close.”

Raoul shifted uncomfortably, then shook hands with the woman. “Ah, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I’m ready for you.”

He leaned toward Pia. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“No. I’m here to protect you.”

“Good.”

He was aware of every woman in the place watching him. He was used to attention, but it usually wasn’t so blatant.

Bella seated him in a chair and wrapped a plastic cape around him. Then she stood behind him, her hands on his shoulders, and met his gaze in the mirror.

“What would you like?”

“Just a trim,” Pia said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “This is his first haircut in town.”

Bella smiled. “And you came to me.”

“Where else would we go?” Pia asked.

“Exactly.” Bella reached for a spray bottle and dampened his hair, then combed through it. “Are the two of you together?”

“No,” Pia said quickly.

“Yes,” Raoul insisted just as fast.

Bella raised her eyebrows. “You should probably get that part figured out.”

Pia looked at him. “We’re not dating.”

“We’re together.”

“Okay, but not in that way. Just because we’ve…” She stopped and glanced around, as if aware of everyone listening.

He’d been talking about him being her pregnancy buddy, but he realized she’d been thinking about their night together.

“Men,” she muttered, as she stalked off and started talking to one of the other hairdressers.

Bella combed and cut efficiently, her hands moving confidently. “So you like our Pia, do you?”

“Very much.”

Bella’s expression sharpened. “As a friend or more?”

“We’re friends.”

“Then you’re a fool.”

He held in a grin. He’d always enjoyed women who spoke their minds. “Why?”

“Pia is worth ten of whatever women you’ve been dating. She’s a good girl. Smart, caring, beautiful.”

He turned his head so he could see Pia in the mirror. She’d shrugged out of her coat and he could see the way her sweater clung to her curves. She laughed at something he couldn’t hear, but the sound of her amusement made him smile.

She was all Bella said and more. She had heart and character. No one knew about the embryos. She could have walked away from them, had them donated to science or simply thrown away. But none of the options had occurred to her. There weren’t a lot of people he admired, but she was one of them.

“What happened to her was sad,” Bella continued. “Losing her father that way, then having her mother run to Florida. There was Pia, in her senior year of high school, and she lost everything. She had to go into foster care.”

“I’d heard,” he murmured, wondering what kind of mother simply abandoned her kid without a second thought. The grief and loss could have drawn them closer together. Instead Pia had had to deal with all the crap on her own.

He found himself wanting to fix the problem—even though it had happened over a decade ago. Still, the need was there, to do something. To act.

“She’s had boyfriends, you know,” Bella announced.

“I’m sure she has.”

“They never stay. Poor girl. I don’t know what goes wrong, but they leave.”

Not a conversation he wanted to be having with Bella, he thought. His gaze once again returned to Pia. She’d had a difficult road and her life was about to get three times more complicated. Who was going to take care of her? Who would be there when she needed help?

He knew she had friends and they would help. The town would pull through. Fool’s Gold seemed like that kind of place. But on a day-to-day basis, Pia would be on her own.

He wondered if she’d thought that part through. If she knew what she was getting into. She turned and met his gaze in the mirror, then smiled. He winked at her and she returned her attention to her conversation.

He’d been in love twice in his life. He and his first girlfriend had grown apart, and Caro had betrayed every part of their marriage vows. He wasn’t looking to feel that way ever again. Not getting involved was safer. But there was still the reality of wanting a family—needing that connection. He couldn’t have one without the other. Or so he’d always believed.

* * *

“I CAN HEAR YOU,” Pia yelled through the closed bathroom door.

“I’m just sitting. There’s nothing to hear.”

Even so, she was sure there were noises. Or maybe the problem was there weren’t. Talk about pressure, she thought as she stood and pulled up her bikini panties and jeans. Is this what it was like to be a guy? Pure performance anxiety?

She opened the bathroom door.

“I can’t do this with you in the room,” she said, then held up a hand. “Don’t bother saying you’re not in the room. It’s practically the same thing.”

Raoul shook his head as he got to his feet and turned to face her. Laughter brightened his dark eyes. “Can’t stand the heat, huh?” he teased.

“The heat isn’t the problem.”

“Have you tried turning on the faucet? The sound of running water might help.”

“I’m not going to stand here having a conversation with you about my inability to pee.”

“You already are.”

She rolled her eyes, then pointed at the front door. “Go stand in the hall until I’m done.”

“I’ve had my tongue in your mouth.”

“So not the point.”

“We can have sex, but I can’t be in the next room while you go to the bathroom?”

“Exactly.”

“Fine.” He crossed the room and let himself out. Then he stuck his head back in. “What should I tell the neighbors if they ask why I’m loitering?”

“Don’t make me kill you.”

He laughed and shut the door behind him.

“Men,” she muttered, then returned to the bathroom and pulled down her pants.

After sitting on the toilet, she turned on the faucet and reached for the plastic stick from the pregnancy test. Everything was fine, she told herself. She peed several times a day. It didn’t require a lot of thought or effort. It was natural. Easy.

But at that moment, it felt far from easy. It felt impossible. She turned off the water, tried humming, shifting, breathing more slowly. Her bladder stubbornly refused to empty.

Never again, she told herself. Pregnancy was too hard. When she finally managed to pee on the stick, she was going to get ice cream. The fact that it was chilly outside didn’t matter. She wanted a hot fudge sundae with whipped…

“Oh, no!”

When she’d finally stopped paying attention, her body had responded. She did her thing with the stick, set it on a tissue, then got up, flushed and pulled up her pants. After washing her hands, she walked out to get Raoul.

“Finally,” he said when she opened the door. “Success?”

“I have peed.”

“I’m so proud.”

“Be nice or I’ll make you touch it.”

She went back into the bathroom and carefully carried out the stick on the tissue and set it on a paper towel on the kitchen counter.

“How long?”

“Just a few minutes.”

They stared at the little screen, which showed an hourglass. She could hear the faint ticking of a clock and feel the rapid thudding of her heart. According to the test, the result would announce her condition. Pregnant or not pregnant. As simple as that.

She didn’t allow herself to speculate. Part of her was afraid that she’d lost Crystal’s babies—that they hadn’t been able to hang on. But another part of her was terrified they had.

Raoul put his arm around her. She leaned into him and hung on.

The screen changed and she saw a single word.

Pregnant.

There was no misunderstanding that.

Her body went cold, then seemed to heat from the inside. Her stomach flopped over, making her wonder if she was going to throw up. Reality loomed, like a really big storm, but she couldn’t take it all in. Pregnant. She was pregnant.

“You did it!” Raoul crowed, then grabbed her around the waist and spun her in the center of the room. “You’re going to be a mom.”

He sounded delighted. She felt like she was going to pass out, although that could have been from the world blurring around her.

A mom? Her? “I can’t,” she whispered.

He set her down. “Sure you can. This is great, Pia. The embryos implanted. This is great news.”

Intellectually, she could agree. This is what Crystal wanted. But in her gut, she was deathly afraid of screwing up.

“I have to sit down,” she said, making her way over to a kitchen chair and dropping onto it. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing.

Pregnant. Right now there were babies growing inside of her. Babies who would be born and become actual children, then real people. Babies who would depend on her and expect her to take care of them.

Raoul pulled up a chair and sat across from her. He took her hand in his. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I can do this. I can’t have children. I don’t know how.”

“Don’t they do all the hard work themselves?”

“The forming and growing, maybe, but then what? They’re going to have expectations. I’m not prepared for this.”

He leaned toward her. “You have eight and a half months and I’ll help.”

“You’re going to be my pregnancy buddy.” She pulled her hand free and stood. “Don’t get me wrong—I appreciate the support. But I’m less concerned about being pregnant than what comes after. I’m going to have to buy stuff. I haven’t got a clue what. There must be a list somewhere, right? On the Internet?”

He rose. “I’m sure there is.”

“And I’ll need to move. This place is too small. I’ll need a house.” She made okay money, but it wasn’t a fortune. Could she afford a house? “And there’s college. I should start saving, but I don’t know what to invest in. I don’t understand the stock market.”

He moved close and put his hands on her shoulders. “One thing at a time,” he told her. “Relax. Breathe. I can help with all this. We’ll find you a great place, and I can get you the best investment advice available. It’s going to be okay, Pia. I promise.”

She nodded, because that was the expected thing to do. And sure, he would help and she would appreciate it. But when the babies were born, his work was done. He would walk away and she would be left on her own. With triplets.

* * *

“THIS IS FUN,” JENNY SAID as she ran the wand over Pia’s belly. “I don’t usually do ultrasounds this early.” She kept her gaze on the monitor. “You know we won’t be able to see anything specific. Just whether the embryos have implanted.”

“I know,” Pia whispered, hanging on to Raoul’s hand with all her strength. Under normal circumstances she would worry about hurting him, but he was a tough football player. She was sure he could take it.

Besides, he’d offered to come with her to the doctor’s office. If any part of this freaked him out, he would have to deal with it himself.

She’d had less than forty-eight hours to get used to the idea of being pregnant. So far the information hadn’t become any more real. She alternated between shock and panic. Neither was especially comfortable.

She’d tried a little reading from the pregnancy books she’d bought, but that only made things worse. Knowing the statistical odds of getting hemorrhoids by the end of term wasn’t exactly the sort of information she was looking for.

“Okay,” Jenny said cheerfully. “Let me get the doctor.”

Pia waited until the tech left, then turned to Raoul. “Did we know she was going to do that? Is it okay she’s getting Dr. Galloway?”

He bent over her, smoothing her hair back with his free hand. “It’s fine. She said she would be getting the doctor before she started. This is all routine, Pia. You’re doing great.”

Did all mothers-to-be feel such a numbing sense of responsibility? Because whatever happened wasn’t just about her—it was also about Crystal and Keith.

“I want them to be all right. The babies. I hate being scared all the time.”

“You need to relax. Keep breathing.”

She did her best. Fortunately, Dr. Galloway returned quickly and stood by the monitor as Jenny moved the wand.

“There they are,” the doctor said, pointing at the screen. “We have three implantations.” The older woman smiled. “Good for you, Pia. They’re all in place.”

Pia stared at the screen, trying to see what they were pointing at. It all looked blurry to her, but she didn’t care. It was enough to know that for now, everything was going the way it was supposed to.

Although, honestly, the thought of triplets was enough to send anyone over the edge. Two months ago, she’d had a cat who didn’t like her. Now she was carrying triplets.

Dr. Galloway wiped off her stomach. “Go ahead and get dressed, Pia. We’ll meet in my office and discuss what happens next.”

Pia nodded.

Raoul helped her to sit up, then waited as she got to her feet.

“I’m right here,” he told her.

She nodded because speaking seemed impossible.

After dressing, she went out into the hall. Raoul was waiting. He took her hand in his and led the way to the doctor’s office.

She went in first, trying to smile at Dr. Galloway.

“You’ve begun the journey,” the other woman told her. “I’m so proud of you, Pia. Not many people would do what you’re doing.”

Probably because they were sane, she thought as she took a seat. Raoul settled next to her.

“What’s next?” he asked.

“Many things,” Dr. Galloway said, pulling out papers and brochures. “A multiple birth brings much joy but also a few challenges. We know early and can make the preparations. Pia, you need to focus on good food and good sleep. You’re healthy and I don’t foresee any problems, but we will take a few precautions.”

She passed over the papers. “I want to see you in a month. I’ll be monitoring you more closely than if you were carrying only one baby. Between now and then, do the reading I’ve highlighted. You can call the office with any questions. Everything will be fine.”

Pia thought about pointing out there was no way the doctor could actually know that, but why state the obvious? She and Raoul said their goodbyes and somehow made it to the parking lot. She knew, because suddenly they were standing by his sleek, red car. She stared at him across the low roof and saw he looked as stunned as she felt.

“So it’s not just me,” she said. “That makes me feel better.”

“I was faking it,” he admitted, then swore. “Triplets. Did you see them on the screen?”

“No, but I wasn’t looking too hard. I’m already weirded out by the whole thing.”

“They’re real,” he said slowly. “The babies were just an idea before, but they’re going to be born. You’re having triplets.”

She nodded, wishing people would stop saying that. She didn’t need the pressure. Then she looked more closely at him. There was something odd in his eyes. A tightness.

He was going to tell her he couldn’t do it, she thought sadly. That this was more than he’d signed on for. Not that she blamed him. She was living in stunned disbelief, as well. But for her, there was no going back. The babies were in her body, doing their thing.

Even though a part of her wanted to beg him not to abandon her, she knew that wasn’t fair. He’d already been more than generous. The right thing, the honorable thing, was to release him. Sort of a “Go with God” moment.

“It’s okay,” she told him. “I understand. I’m going into a place that makes me uncomfortable. I can’t begin to imagine what you’re feeling. You’ve been great and I thank you for everything. Please don’t feel obligated to do anything more.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m giving you an out. You don’t have to be my pregnancy buddy anymore.”

“Why would you do that?”

“You look like you want to bolt. I get that.”

He walked around the car and stood in front of her. Despite her heels, the man still loomed over her. He was close enough that she had to tilt her head to meet his gaze.

“I’m not running,” he said. “But you’re right about one thing. I don’t want to be your pregnancy buddy anymore.”

She hoped her disappointment didn’t show. She refused to think about going through the pregnancy by herself. Once she got home, she would have a big hissy fit, followed by a breakdown. But for now, she would stay in control. “I understand.”

He took her hand again. He seemed to do that a lot. The problem was she liked it—too much. And now she was going to lose the hand-holding and pretty much everything else when it came to him.

“No,” he said. “You don’t. Pia, I want more. I want to marry you.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

RAOUL HADN’T PLANNED TO PROPOSE, but he wasn’t completely surprised by what he’d said. He’d been thinking about her a lot lately, about the babies she carried and their future. He admired her and respected her. Despite her fear and worry, she’d plowed ahead, taking each next logical step. His desire to help was something he’d learned from Hawk—to step in and make a difference.

He also hadn’t been able to get Keith out of his mind. The man had died fighting for his country. He would have assumed that Crystal would go ahead and have their children. He would have believed his family would go on. Thanks to Pia—it would. But it wasn’t right that she do all this alone.

Pia stared at him, her eyes wide, her mouth open. She tried to speak, swallowed, then said, “Excuse me? What?”

“I want to marry you.”

She shook her head slightly, as if not sure of her hearing. She looked stunned and a little dizzy. He wondered if he should get her into the car so she could sit. She solved the problem by opening the door herself and slumping into the seat.

He went around to the other side and got in, then he angled toward her.

“I mean it, Pia. Marry me.”

“Why?”

A reasonable question, he thought. “I admire what you’re doing. Most people would have run in the opposite direction, but you didn’t. And don’t say you had doubts and questions. If you didn’t you wouldn’t be competent to have the children.”

He leaned toward her. “I’ve seen a lot of different kind of people in my life. Those who give and those who take. Those who think about others and those who think about themselves. I’ve told you about my coach and how he changed everything for me. Nicole opened her home and her heart to me. They taught me what’s important. I want to do what they did—make a difference to someone.”

Her expression of shock changed to something that looked a lot like annoyance. “Thanks, but I’m not interested in being your charity case of the week.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.”

“It’s what you’re saying.”

He reached for her hands, but she snatched them back. “Don’t.”

She was pissed. Damn. He’d screwed up. “Pia, I’m saying this wrong. I want to take care of you. That’s all. I want to be there for you and the babies. I want to be a part of your lives.”

“If you’re so hell-bent on being a husband and father, go marry someone else and have your own kids.”

“I tried that,” he admitted. “And failed.”

“One divorce,” she muttered. “Big deal. It happens to more than half of marriages. So what? Try again.”

“That’s what I want to do. With you.”

They were words Pia had never thought she would hear. A proposal of marriage. Only everything about the situation was wrong. Okay—not the man. He was pretty amazing, but she didn’t want him proposing like this. Out of some weird sense of obligation to a former mentor. She wasn’t interested in being anyone’s merit-badge project.

“You can’t fix whatever’s wrong with you by marrying me,” she told him. “Go get therapy.”

She’d thought the words would annoy him, but he simply smiled at her.

“Do you really think that’s what I’m doing?”

“Yes. You don’t love me. We haven’t even dated.” There’d been that single, amazing night, but that wasn’t enough to build a relationship on.

She supposed on some level she should be flattered he was offering to help, but instead she felt cheated. Even though she’d never had a relationship get to the “I love you, please marry me” stage, she’d always dreamed one day it would happen. That the man of her dreams would propose.

But it was supposed to be a romantic event—a magical time. Not a mercy offer made in a medical parking lot.

“Pia, I like you a lot,” he said, sounding annoyingly earnest. “I respect and admire you. You’re smart, funny, charming and you lead with your heart. You’ve given up your life to have your friend’s children. How many people would do that?”

The switch in subject startled her. “Crystal left me her embryos. What was I supposed to do? Ignore them?”

“That’s my point. You couldn’t. You had to take care of your friend, even after she was gone. I might not have known Crystal, but I did know her husband. I can’t explain it, but I know that I owe him. These are his kids, too. I want to take care of you. Of them.”

The Keith part made sense, she thought. But marriage? “You barely know me.” Although she had to admit his assessment of her character had been very flattering.

“I know enough. Is it that you don’t know me? Ask me anything. What do you want to know?”

She felt as if she’d stepped into an alternate universe. “I don’t know enough to figure out what to ask.”

“Then I’ll tell you.” This time when he reached for her hand, she let him. “You know about parts of my past. I told you I had a serious girlfriend in high school. I was crazy about her. I never even looked at another girl while I was with her. I never cheated. Once we broke up, I had my wild times, but after Hawk got me on the right track, I calmed down. I dated a lot of women, but one at a time. When Caro and I started dating, that was it. I was all in.”

He shifted in his seat, as if trying to get closer to her. As if his words weren’t enough to convince her and that he would use the magnetism of his presence to tip the scale in his favor.

“When I commit, I give a hundred percent. It doesn’t matter if it’s football or marriage or my business. I’ll be there for you.”

She felt overwhelmed. Everything was happening too fast. Worse—she was tempted. Hearing that a guy was “all in” was a leap-without-bothering-to-look-first moment if there ever was one.

It wasn’t love. She understood that. Raoul wanted a family without the trauma of giving his heart. He wanted to help her and Keith, and in return he got all the trappings of family without a whole lot of risk.

“I have my flaws,” he continued. “I can be impatient. I’m not a morning person and can push back to try to get my way. But I can be reasoned with.” He touched her cheek with his free hand. “I’d never hurt you.”

She had a feeling he meant what he said. But no one could promise not to hurt another. It didn’t work that way.

“Raoul, you’re being really nice, but this isn’t going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“Marriage? It’s a huge step and we barely know each other.”

“I want you.”

As much as she wanted to bask in the words, she couldn’t. “No, you want a cause.”

“So you get to be someone who loves your friend, but I’m just a guy doing a good deed? You’re not the biological mother to these babies, but you’re giving up your life to take care of them. Why can’t I want to do the same? That’s what I’m offering. You need support and a partner. I want a wife and kids. I want to be their dad. Permanently. Yes, getting married is a practical solution for both of us, but that doesn’t make it any less real.”

She stared into his eyes, wishing she could see down to his heart. Did he mean it?

“Define real,” she said softly.

“The whole thing. A ring, a judge, a piece of paper. We’ll live together, raise the kids together. I’d like it if you’d take my name, but I’ll pretend it’s okay if you don’t. We’ll be listed as the parents on the birth certificates. We’ll buy a house, make love, argue, make up, raise kids, get a dog and grow old together. I’m not talking temporary, Pia. I’m offering you everything I have. I’ll be a husband to you and a full-time father to those kids. And if you decide to leave me, you can take me to the cleaners in court.”

He was saying all the right things, but more than that, he seemed to believe them. Which made her want to believe him.

She would admit to being tempted. On a practical level, having someone to depend on while raising triplets would be amazing. Raoul had already shown he was responsible and supportive. On a personal level, she did like him—probably more than she should. The thought of sharing a bed with him for the next fifty years was kind of exciting.

He wasn’t offering her love. At least he was honest about it. She’d always expected to fall madly in love at some point, but it hadn’t happened yet. And once she had kids, what were the odds? Was a practical marriage based on mutual need such a bad thing?

“What about kids of your own?” she asked.

“I’m hoping you’ll agree in a couple of years. Wouldn’t you like a baby of your own, too?”

She nodded slowly. That, too, had been part of her fantasy. And Raoul offered an enticing gene pool.

“I meant what I said,” he told her. “I’m all in, Pia. I’ll be there for you, no matter what. I’ll be your husband and partner in every way possible. I give you my word. You’ll be able to count on me until the day I die.”

She knew enough to recognize he was the kind of man whose word meant something. He was offering her all he had—except his heart. She believed he would take care of her and after all she’d been through, that was nearly impossible to resist. Compared with security, love came in a very distant second.

But this wasn’t just about her. “It’s one thing to marry me without being in love,” she said. “But the babies are different. You can’t be any different with them because they’re not biologically yours.”

“I know. They have my word, too. Marry me, Pia. Say yes.”

She looked into his dark eyes and knew that he would be with her every step of the way. That for reasons she couldn’t explain, this man wanted to take on her and three unborn children that were no relation to him.

The thought of not having to do everything herself, of knowing there was someone else who would have her back, was tempting. The fact that the guy in question was Raoul made it irresistible.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He stared at her. “Yes? You’re accepting?”

She nodded, once again feeling slightly faint. Maybe it wasn’t the pregnancy, she thought as he pulled her into his arms. Maybe it was him.

Then his mouth claimed hers and she couldn’t think at all. She could only feel the warmth and affection and even a slight hint of passion.

“You won’t regret this,” he told her. “I’m going to buy you the biggest house, the biggest diamond ring. I’ll take care of everything.”

She drew back slightly and eyed him. “You’re not going to become some freakish, controlling guy, are you?”

He grinned. “No. Are you objecting to the diamond or the house?”

“It was the ‘I’ll take care of everything’ part that threw me.”

“How about I’ll take care of everything after running it by you?”

“That works.”

“Good.”

He kissed her again, then straightened in his seat and grabbed his seat belt. She did the same. He started the car and they drove out of the parking lot.

Pia stared at the familiar road and told herself it was okay. That the fluttering sensation in her stomach was anticipation, not frenzied dread. Marrying Raoul was a good thing. It’s not as if she would ever get tired of looking at him, and despite the fame and fortune, he was a nice guy. In marriage, nice mattered.

This would work, she told herself. In fact, she was downright lucky. It was the right thing to do for the babies. As for her dream of falling in love and being swept away by a handsome prince…given everything going on in her life, this was as close to the fantasy as she was going to get.

* * *

AFTER DROPPING PIA OFF at her office, Raoul returned to his house. He walked through the two-bedroom place and knew there was no way it was going to work for a family of five. He’d been thinking about buying something permanent for some time now, but there hadn’t been a rush. That had all changed. Now he had a family to provide for.

The thought would have brought some guys to their knees, but Raoul was excited by the prospect. He was ready to be married again, ready to be a father. If things had gone the way they were supposed to with Caro, he would already have at least one kid.

Sure, his arrangement with Pia wasn’t traditional, but little about his life had been. He was a street kid who’d been blessed with the ability to think on his feet and throw a football a hundred yards. Now he was getting lucky again. Besides, Hawk and Nicole would be thrilled to be honorary grandparents to the triplets. Hawk would be proud of Raoul for doing the right thing.

He left his rental and headed downtown. On the way, he passed a jewelry store. Jenel’s Gems was located in a small square of exclusive shops. He’d probably passed it a dozen times and hadn’t noticed. Now he changed direction and went inside.

The interior was all glass and light. Sleek and sophisticated, it was the kind of place that made you feel as if everything you bought was special.

A tall, pretty blonde walked over to him. “Hi. Can I help you?”

The last time he’d gotten engaged, he’d designed the ring himself. He’d had very specific ideas and had spent two days picking out the diamond. He’d had this idea that the ring had to represent who he was and what he wanted his marriage to Caro to be. The ring was to have been a statement.

Talk about a crash-and-burn, he thought to himself.

“Are you good at keeping secrets?” he asked.

The woman smiled. “I sell engagement rings. I have to be.”

“Good. Do you know Pia O’Brian?”

Surprise and pleasure flickered in the woman’s blue eyes. “Yes, of course. I like her very much.”

“Me, too. I want a ring for her. Something that suits her taste. Something she’ll love.”

“I see. And may I ask what this ring is for?”

“She’s agreed to marry me.”

The woman tilted her head and smiled. “Then you’re a very lucky man.”

“I think so.”

“I have a ring,” she began. “The design is unique but classic. Let me go get it.”

She disappeared into the back for a few minutes, then returned with three rings on a lavender velvet display tray.

“This is the engagement ring,” she said, holding out a diamond ring. “The center stone is two carats. It’s surrounded by a bead-set diamond border.” She turned it upright. “See how the stone is set up to catch the light, but the border not only protects it, it makes it less likely to catch on anything. Like a sweater.”

Or hurt a baby, he thought.

The woman turned the diamond ring again, to show the profile. “These are channel-set square diamonds on the side. As you can see, I have two matching bands of the square diamonds. They would slide in on either side, completing the look.”

“They’re the wedding bands?”

She nodded. “They can be worn alone, if Pia prefers.”

He picked up the ring. It glittered in the overhead lights. There was something right about it. Something that told him Pia would like it.

“Let me show you a few other things,” the woman said. “For comparison.”

They went through the cases. He asked to see a couple of things, then shook his head. “The first one,” he told her. “That’s it.”

“I think so, too. Are you going to faint when I tell you the price?”

“No.”

“It’s a high-quality diamond and a custom setting.”

“That’s okay.”

Fifteen minutes later, he had all three rings in boxes tucked into his jacket pocket. He’d refused the shopping bag, not wanting anyone in town to see him carrying it. He was starting to get a handle on Fool’s Gold. He knew how word would spread.

Now that he had a ring, it was time to go see a man about a house.

* * *

PIA STOOD IN FRONT OF her dry-erase and corkboard calendar, checking the events against her master list. Some of the festivals only required minimal prep work, but others took weeks of planning. If decorations were required, they had to be pulled out of storage and installed. The city maintenance workers appreciated plenty of lead time, and she knew better than to annoy the muscle portion of her operation.

With Halloween coming soon she would need to get the decorative flags changed and put out the scarecrows and hay bales, which reminded her that she needed to order fresh hay. The stuff they’d used last year had looked a little ragged.

She crossed to her desk and had started to pick up her phone when her office door burst open and Liz Sutton and Montana surged into the room.

“I can’t believe it!” Montana shrieked. “We sat right here talking about my boring life when you had news like that? How could you keep it to yourself? I may never forgive you.”

Pia might have been worried except she had no idea what her friend was talking about, and the fact that Montana and Liz were both grinning like fools meant that it wasn’t bad news.

Liz reached her first and hugged her. “Congratulations. He seems really sweet. And hunky, which is always a nice plus. I know I get a little shiver every time I see Ethan. Especially when he’s naked.”

Montana winced. “Hello, that’s my brother we’re talking about. Don’t share details.”

“Sorry,” Liz said with a laugh, then turned back to Pia. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

Montana and Liz grabbed each other’s arms and actually jumped up and down. It was a little bit scary, Pia thought, taking a step back.

“You’re marrying Raoul!” they shrieked together.

“I’m going to forgive you for not telling me if you promise to spill all the details,” Montana said. “Start at the beginning and talk slow. You said hi and he said?”

Oh, no. Pia sank into her chair and groaned. This wasn’t good at all. It had been a matter of—she checked her watch—four hours. How could word already be spreading?

The truth was she’d barely accepted that he’d proposed to her, let alone the fact that she’d accepted. The impossible situation had left her too confused to do much more than pretend it hadn’t happened. It had been the only way to get work done.

“Pia?” Liz asked, her smile fading. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Just confused. How did you hear?”

Montana and Liz exchanged glances.

“Raoul went to see Josh,” Liz said. “Ethan was there and heard the whole thing. Raoul said he wanted to buy a bigger house. One with a lot of bedrooms. Josh wanted to know why and Raoul said the two of you were getting married but not to tell anyone. Josh and Ethan swore they wouldn’t, then Ethan called me.”

Pia winced. It wasn’t his fault—he probably thought the information was safe with his close friends. He wasn’t a small-town guy and would have no idea how this sort of news fed on itself. In a matter of hours, it would be everywhere.

“I ran into Montana on my way over here and told her,” Liz continued. “But you don’t look very happy. What’s wrong?”

They each pulled up a chair and sat close, looking concerned. Pia wanted to bolt, but these women were her friends. If she couldn’t explain the situation to them, how could she possibly go through with it? Not that she was having second thoughts—she wasn’t. It was just that everything was complicated.

She drew in a breath. “Crystal left me her embryos,” she began, then explained how she’d made the decision to have the babies.

“At first Raoul offered to be my pregnancy buddy,” she continued. “He said he would help out while I carried the babies.”

“That’s so sweet,” Montana said with a sigh.

But Liz was more like Pia—less of an overt romantic. Her gaze narrowed. “Why?”

“That was my question.” She hesitated. “It turns out he knew Keith. Raoul went over to Iraq with some football guys and Keith was part of their escort team. They became friends. Keith told him about Fool’s Gold and Crystal. Raoul was there when he died.”

“I didn’t know any of this,” Montana said, her eyes wide. “Is that why he came here?”

Pia nodded. “Normally he wouldn’t have paid extra attention to our invitation to the pro-am golf tournament, but he recognized the name of the town and wanted to check it out. He liked what he saw and decided to move here.”

“Did he talk to Crystal?” Liz asked.

“No. He didn’t know what to say. So he didn’t know she was dying or about the embryos until I found out she’d left them to me and had a bit of a breakdown in front of him. Everything sort of spiraled from there.”

“And now he wants to marry you,” Montana said with a sigh. “It’s so romantic.”

It was more practical than romantic, but why state the obvious?

Pia shrugged. “He really wants to be a part of things. And I sort of liked the idea of not being so alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Montana told her. “You have us.”

“I know and that’s great.” She hesitated.

Liz got it right away. “But having friends with lives isn’t the same as having someone who is always there for you. When I was pregnant with Tyler, I was scared and confused. You’re having triplets.”

Pia nodded. “I try not to think about the actual number. Anyway, Raoul’s been with me as I made every decision. He’s been a rock. Today, after the ultrasound confirmed all three embryos have implanted, he asked me to marry him.”

“You’re having Crystal’s babies,” Liz said, her eyes filling with tears. “That’s such a blessing for both of you. She would be thrilled.”

Pia was still in the confused camp, but she smiled anyway. “I’m committed now.”

“Babies,” Montana said. “And a proposal. Was it wonderful? Did he get down on one knee?”

Pia hesitated. “Montana, we’re not in love. Raoul wants to marry me and be a part of the babies’ lives. He wants to be their father. When I asked him why, he pointed out that I’m not their biological mother and no one is questioning my commitment. I’m willing to have them for a friend, because it’s the right thing to do. He wants to be their father, and me to be his wife, because of Keith and because it’s the right thing to do.”

Just saying the words was tough. Believing them would take some time.

“I wasn’t sure whether to say yes at first,” she admitted. “But he can be really convincing. We like and respect each other. He’s a good man and I trust him. I haven’t been able to say that about a guy before.”

Liz hugged her. “I have a good feeling about this,” she said. “Arranged marriages have worked for generations.”

“But you’re not in love,” Montana said, looking crushed. “Don’t you want to be in love?”

“Sometimes you have to be practical,” Liz told her. “Love can grow.”

Pia hadn’t thought of that. She wasn’t sure if she could make herself that vulnerable—especially with so much at stake. It would hurt too much if he didn’t return her feelings and, worse, it could make their arrangement awkward.

“Maybe he’ll fall madly in love with you,” Montana told her.

“I don’t think so,” Pia said firmly. “To date, all the men in my life have resisted the process…and me. Men who claim to want to be with me tend to leave. I’d rather have the truth up front. Raoul’s been honest and I appreciate that.”

“I guess.” Montana didn’t sound convinced. “It’s just not romantic, you know?”

“Romance can be painful,” Pia reminded her.

Liz sat back down. “So there’s no love allowed?”

“We haven’t discussed the rules,” Pia admitted. “But it’s understood.”

“Hmm. You’ll need to be careful, then. The heart is a tricky beast.”

“Trust me. I have big plans to stay emotionally whole.” She hesitated. “Could you two please not say anything about why we’re getting married? It’s okay to tell Charity, but no one else.”

“Of course we won’t talk,” Liz promised. “You don’t need that kind of speculation right now. But brace yourself. Everybody is going to find out about you and Raoul, not to mention the pregnancy. You’re going to be a star.”

“I can handle it.” Pia had been the center of attention in town once before and it had been awful. Now the reasons were different and she was sure everything would be fine.

Raoul had given his word and she chose to believe him. He would stay with her and the babies. Maybe they weren’t crazy in love, but that was okay. There were a lot of different ways to make a happy family and they would find theirs.

CHAPTER TWELVE

PIA AVOIDED GOING TO THE grocery store as long as she could. If there was one place in Fool’s Gold where she was likely to run into people wanting to talk about her upcoming marriage, it was somewhere between produce and the frozen-food aisle. But she’d used up the last of her milk that morning and there was absolutely nothing in her freezer, so it was time to grit her teeth and get through it.

Thinking that the store would be quieter midday rather than after work, she used her lunch hour to go there. The trip there was stressful enough with lots of men she didn’t recognize strolling through town. Some guy had even pulled out a grocery cart and handed it to her as she entered the store. Talk about strange.

She got through cleaning supplies, the meat counter and was halfway to the dairy case when Denise Hendrix spotted her.

“Pia!” the woman cried, abandoning her own cart and rushing over. “I heard. I’m so happy.”

Pia braced herself for a warm, enveloping hug. Denise was the matriarch of the Hendrix family. An attractive woman in her early fifties, she’d lost her husband about ten years before. She was an active member of the community and the mother of six, including her daughters who were identical triplets.

They embraced, then Denise stepped back.

“Look at you, having Crystal’s babies. That’s such a blessing.”

“Thanks. I’m still in denial, with a slight bend toward panic.”

“Of course you are, but you’re doing it anyway. I’m so proud of you.” She smiled. “I am available anytime for advice or conversation or to talk you down from the panic. A multiple birth is completely manageable. You just need to plan.”

“I’ve heard that.” Planning was important, Pia thought. Just as soon as the idea of having three babies at once became real to her, she would start. “I appreciate the offer to talk. I’m sure I’ll have a lot of questions. I just don’t know what they are right now.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. Let me know when you’re ready.” Denise raised her eyebrows. “I also heard that more congratulations are in order.” Her gaze dropped to Pia’s bare left hand. “Have you set a date?”

“Not yet.” She tucked her hand behind her back. She was still slightly stunned to find herself engaged.

“I imagine you’ll want a small, quiet wedding. You’re not going to have the energy to plan anything large. Unless you want to wait until after the babies are born. Then you could go all out.”

Marriage was one thing, Pia thought, feeling slightly uneasy. But a wedding? She hadn’t put those pieces together. “I, um. We haven’t decided which way we’re going,” she admitted. “Everything happened so fast.”

“I knew you’d find someone wonderful,” Denise told her. “You’ve always been such a lovely girl. After all you’ve been through with your parents.” She cleared her throat. “There’s no need to talk about that. Anyway, you’ve found your happy ending. From all I’ve heard, Raoul is very special. And handsome. He’s giving Josh a run for his money.”

Pia laughed. “I don’t think there’s a competition.”

“Then you haven’t had your hair done at Julia’s place lately. There was a very heated discussion about the two of them just last week.”

Pia thought about the talk at the city council meeting—the argument about who had the better butt. “We need more to think about in this town.”

“There are those men coming to town,” Denise said. “There’s a subject. Have you noticed they’re everywhere? Just yesterday two men whistled at me.” She sounded both outraged and faintly pleased.

“I have no idea what we’re going to do with them.”

“I thought there were already several events planned.”

“A few, but what are they going to do the rest of the time? Troll the streets, looking for easy conquests?”

Denise laughed. “I’m old enough to be your mother, so it’s not right that I’m the one to point out that no one says ‘easy conquests’ anymore.”

“Okay, you’re right, but still.”

Denise still looked amused. “I’m sorry you’re not excited about the influx of men, but that’s because you’ve already found someone wonderful. I wonder if any of the men will be older.”

Pia had been caught up in the fact that everyone assumed she and Raoul had fallen madly in love and wondering if they should say anything. But she found herself distracted by Denise’s last comment.

“You’re interested in a man?” Pia asked.

“Interested is too strong a word,” Denise said with a shrug. “I’m…curious. Ralph has been gone a long time. My kids are old enough to deal with me dating. I like my life, but sometimes I think it would be nice to have someone else around.”

“Way to go,” Pia told her. “I think that’s great. I have no idea about the ages of the men arriving, but I can let you know if I see any good ones.” She grinned. “What about someone younger?”

Denise sniffed. “I’m not a cougar.”

“You could be.”

Denise was pretty, with her short dark hair and bright eyes. She had a body that someone fifteen years younger would envy.

“I’d prefer someone around my age,” the other woman said. “Then there’s less I have to explain. Do you really think anyone who wasn’t there could understand the thrill of hearing ‘Rhinestone Cowboy’ on the radio?”

“Probably not,” Pia admitted. “Point taken. We’ll find you a nice man who remembers the seventies.”

Denise looked worried. “You’re not taking me on as a project, are you?”

“No. And I won’t mention anything to your daughters. I’ll let you tell them you’re on the prowl.”

Denise laughed and held up her hands. “No prowl. I’m thinking. There’s a difference. Enough about me. Remember, I’m here if you have any questions. Also, when you get ready to register for your shower gifts, we should talk. Some things you really will need three of, but others you won’t.”

“Okay.”

Shower gifts? As in baby shower? Pia wasn’t prepared for that. Of course, as she’d already figured out, there was moving and getting married to contend with, as well. Compared with that, a baby shower should be easy.

“All right, my dear,” Denise said, hugging her again. “I’m delighted. You deserve every happiness.”

“Thanks.”

Denise waved and pushed her cart toward the front of the store. Pia completed her own shopping, then took everything home and put it away. When she left her apartment again, she headed for Raoul’s office, rather than her own.

Ten minutes later, she found him alone in the big, empty space.

“You really need to get some more furniture,” she told him as she walked to his desk, her heels clicking on the cement floor. “Maybe a few employees.”

“I have Dakota. She’s at lunch.” He rose and smiled at her. “This is a nice surprise.”

“We need to talk.”

He settled on the corner of his desk. “Should I be worried?”

“No. Nothing’s wrong.” She drew in a breath. “You do realize that word is spreading. Everyone in town is going to know we’re getting married.”

“I figured that out. Josh violated the guy code.”

“Did you tell him not to mention the engagement?”

“Yes, but it didn’t do any good.”

“This isn’t like Dallas or Seattle. Everybody knows everyone else’s business.”

He stood and pulled her close. “Is that a problem?”

“It’s not something that can be changed.”

“I meant are you upset people know we’re getting married?”

Standing there, feeling the heat of his body against hers, wrapped in his strong arms, it was tough to be upset about anything.

“I’m not upset, I just thought we’d have more time to get used to it ourselves.”

He touched her cheek with his fingers. “Meaning people are coming up to you and saying stuff.” She nodded.

“Want to change your mind?” he asked.

“No.”

“Good. Me, either.” He lowered his head and brushed his mouth against hers. “I meant what I said, Pia. I’m all in.”

Until he said those words again, she hadn’t realized there was a knot in her chest. It loosened and suddenly it was easier to breathe.

“Thanks,” she whispered. “Me, too.”

“Good.”

He kissed her again, lingering this time, making her body heat up from the inside.

“Want to come over for dinner?” he asked. “I’ll cook.”

“You know how?”

He shrugged. “I’ll barbecue. Fire good.”

She laughed. “It’s cold outside.”

“It’s in the forties at night. I’ll survive the time it takes me to grill a couple of steaks.” He pressed his mouth against her ear. “There’s this new thing called a jacket. I have one.”

“You’re so cutting-edge.”

“Tell me about it.” He straightened. “Was that a yes?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Great. I’m heading up to the school now, but when I’m done there, I’ll go get steaks and some salads. Does six work?”

“Sure.”

He kissed her one more time before she left and headed back to her own office. As she walked, she felt a faint tingle on her lips—the lingering effect of his mouth on hers. The man could sure get to her.

She liked him. Considering they were getting married, that was a good thing. But Liz was right—she had to be careful. Liking him too much would leave her vulnerable. She’d already been hurt enough in her life. She didn’t need to go looking for trouble. Most of the time, it seemed to find her without any help.

* * *

RAOUL ARRIVED AT THE CAMP just as the kids were let out for afternoon recess. It was cool but clear, with blue skies visible between the breaks in the trees. He found himself in the middle of a rush of children wanting to make the most of their twenty minutes of playtime.

“Hey, Raoul,” Peter called as he ran past. “Come play.”

He’d seen the boy a few times since they’d had lunch together. Peter was smart, friendly and interested in sports. There hadn’t been a hint of any kind of abuse. Maybe Raoul had imagined Peter flinching that first day during the fire. Or maybe the fire itself had made the boy nervous.

He followed the kids onto the playground. The noise level grew as the play began. There were shrieks and calls, along with plenty of laughter.

Looking around, he was pleased at what the camp had become. This was right, he thought as several girls tried to coax him into turning one end of a jump rope. Finally he agreed.

They lined up to be the next one to jump.

“Faster,” a little girl with curly hair demanded. “I jump really good.”

He and the teacher holding the other end obliged, spinning the rope more quickly. The girl kept up easily, laughing as she jumped.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw several boys on the jungle gym. A flash of red caught his attention. He turned and saw Peter climb to the top. In a moment that was like something out of the movies, Raoul saw what was going to happen, even as he knew he was too far away to stop it.

Peter started to lower himself down. His hand slipped. Raoul took off running, the boy grabbed for the bar, slipped again, screamed and tumbled to the ground. Despite all the noise around him, Raoul would have sworn he heard the thunk of the fall. Peter landed on his arm, and Raoul knew before he reached him that it was going to be bad.

“Stay still,” he instructed as he reached the kid’s side.

Peter looked more stunned than hurt. He started to get up, then his face went pale and he gasped. Raoul saw the awkward angle of Peter’s forearm.

The boy’s face screwed up. “It hurts,” he said and began to cry.

“I know. It’s your arm. Do you hurt anywhere else?”

Peter shook his head. Tears spilled down his cheeks.

He helped the boy shift his arm against his chest. Peter screamed once, then continued crying. Raoul gathered him up in his arms and stood.

A bunch of students had gathered around. Teachers came running.

“He’s broken his arm,” Raoul said as he walked. “I don’t know if he’s hurt anywhere else. I’m taking him to the hospital. It’ll be faster than waiting for an ambulance. Call the hospital and let them know we’re coming. Call the police and see if they can meet me at the bottom of the mountain to escort us to the hospital, then find his foster parents.”

Peter weighed practically nothing, Raoul thought, hurrying out to the parking lot. One of the teachers had come with them and fished his keys out of his jacket pocket. She opened the door. He crouched down and carefully slid the boy onto the seat.

Mrs. Miller appeared on his left. “I’m coming, too. I’ll drive my own car and follow you down.” She bent down and smoothed her hand over Peter’s face. “You’re going to be fine. We’ll take care of you.”

The boy continued to cry.

Raoul fastened the boy’s seat belt. Mrs. Miller stepped back and he closed the door.

“You know where the hospital is?” she asked as Raoul hurried to the driver’s side.

“Yes.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

* * *

NEARLY TWO HOURS LATER, Raoul sat in the emergency waiting room. Peter had been seen almost at once. X-rays showed a clean break that should heal quickly. He was off getting a cast on, while Mrs. Miller waited to talk to the social worker who had been called. So far Peter’s foster parents hadn’t shown up.

“Mr. Moreno?”

He looked up and a saw a tall, blonde nurse with a chart. “Yes,” he said as he rose.

“Hi. I’m Heidi. Peter’s going to be just fine. They’re finishing up now. I wondered if I could talk to you for a minute.”

“Sure.”

He followed her into an empty examination room.

“How do you know Peter?” she asked.

“Through the school. He goes to the one that burned down, so all the kids are up at my camp. I’ve played ball with him and his friends a few times. Why?”

She pressed her lips together. “He’s very thin for his age. We have some concerns about the food he’s getting. His bones aren’t as dense as we would like. From what Mrs. Miller told us about the playground, he shouldn’t have broken a bone in that fall. Do you know if he gets enough to eat?”

He shook his head, ignoring the rage that bubbled inside of him. He had no patience for people who didn’t take care of the kids entrusted to them. He’d been through plenty of that himself as he’d been growing up.

“Are you going to do any tests?” he asked.

“We need to talk to his parents about that.”

“Foster parents,” he corrected. “He lost his parents a while ago.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Heidi said. “Now I know why Mrs. Miller wanted us to call social services. I’ll talk to the caseworker when she gets here and ask her to follow up.”

Raoul looked at her. “Are there any signs of physical abuse?”

“We didn’t see any. Do you suspect that something’s going on?”

“I was there during the fire. Peter was one of the last kids to leave. When I went to help him out of the room, he pulled away. It could have just been one of those things, but…”

“Maybe.” Heidi didn’t sound convinced. “I’ll mention that, as well. It doesn’t hurt to be cautious.” She made some notes. “Thanks for the information.”

He and Heidi walked out of the room. He saw Mrs. Miller hurrying toward him.

“Can you come to Peter’s room,” the teacher asked as she approached. “He’s not doing well.”

“What’s wrong?” Heidi asked. “He was fine a few minutes ago.”

“The cast is on and they’ve given him something for the pain,” the older woman said. “It’s not his arm.” She lowered her voice. “Apparently the last time he was in the hospital was after that horrible car accident that killed his parents. He keeps talking about them and asking for you.” She looked at Raoul. “I think seeing you would make him feel better.”

“Sure.”

“You go ahead,” Heidi told them. “I’m going to check on the caseworker and see when we can expect her.”

As Peter was due to be released in an hour or so, he hadn’t been given a room on one of the regular hospital floors. Raoul followed Mrs. Miller through the maze of hallways that made up the E.R. Peter sat up on a bed, looking small and pale. The cast went from his wrist to his elbow and was Dallas Cowboy blue. But the kid looked anything but okay as he covered his face with his free hand and tears ran down his cheeks.

“Hey, buddy,” Raoul said as he walked into the room. “What’s going on?”

“I want to go h-home,” the boy cried.

“We’re getting ahold of your foster parents,” Raoul told him.

“N-not them. I want my mom and dad.”

Raoul swore silently. This was a problem that couldn’t be fixed. He looked at Mrs. Miller, who was obviously fighting tears of her own, then back at the boy.

Raoul moved to the bed and pulled the boy into his arms. Then he carried him to the chair in the corner and sat down, holding Peter close.

The kid clung to him, wrapping his uninjured arm around Raoul’s neck and crying into his shoulder.

He was so damn skinny, Raoul thought. All bones and angles, too light for a kid his age. He held Peter, rubbing his back, not saying anything. After a few minutes, the crying softened and the kid seemed to go to sleep.

“I feel so bad for him,” Mrs. Miller whispered. “I’ve called all the numbers his foster parents left and there’s no answer. Mr. Folio’s employer said the man was out of town for a few days. But if that’s true, who’s looking after Peter?”

Raoul didn’t have any answers. He knew the situation with the boy wasn’t all that unusual. That being underage and alone in the world was never a good thing. There were excellent foster parents out there, but plenty of them were only in it for the money.

An older woman entered. She looked worn and tired, with her gray hair pulled back and glasses hanging from a chain around her neck.

“I’m Cathy Dawson,” she said, then saw Peter and lowered her voice. “Is he all right?”

“The break was clean and, according to the doctors, he should heal quickly,” Mrs. Miller said. “I can’t get ahold of his foster parents, however.”

The social worker frowned, then put on her glasses and read the papers in her hand. “I see there is also some concern about his physical well-being. He might not be getting enough to eat.” She sighed. “All right. Give me a few minutes.”

Just then Peter stirred and sat up. He blinked at Raoul, then turned.

“Hi, Mrs. Dawson,” he said, then yawned.

“Hello yourself. It looks like you fell.”

Peter nodded. “I broke my arm.” He held up the cast, then glanced at Raoul. “It’s Dallas Cowboys blue.”

“I noticed that,” Raoul said. “Are you going to let me sign your cast?”

“Uh-huh.” The boy smiled shyly.

“Good.”

Mrs. Dawson pulled up the other chair and sat across from them. “Peter, where have you been staying for the past few days?”

“With the lady next door.” He gave the name.

“How long have your foster parents been gone?”

Peter shrugged. “A while.”

Mrs. Dawson’s expression stayed friendly. “Since the weekend?”

Peter wrinkled his nose. “Before that, I think.”

“I see. Do you know when they’ll be back?”

He shook his head, then cradled his arm against his chest. “Are they gonna be mad because I got hurt?”

“Of course not,” she said firmly. “They’ll be happy you’re all right. We all are.” She paused. “You know what I think?”

“What?” Peter asked suspiciously.

“I think you probably need a little ice cream. I know they have some down in the cafeteria. If you don’t mind, I’m going to get you some.”

Relief showed in Peter’s expression. He grinned. “I don’t mind.”

“That’s very nice of you. But you know, it’s a big hospital. Would you mind if Mr. Moreno showed me the way?”

“Okay.”

Raoul wasn’t sure what the social worker was up to, but he stood and put Peter back on the bed. “I might have some silver-star stickers at my office,” he said. “I’ll check tomorrow and if I do, we can put some on your cast.”

The boy grinned.

Mrs. Miller moved toward him. “I’ll wait for you here,” she said.

Raoul followed Mrs. Dawson into the hallway.

“The cafeteria is that way,” she said, pointing.

“So you don’t need my help finding it.”

“I wanted a chance to talk to you. I assume you have people in town who know you?”

“Yes,” he said cautiously.

“Good. That will help us push through the paperwork. I know a sympathetic judge. If you’ll give me two or three people to use as character references, we can get this done in an hour or so.”

“Get what done?”

Mrs. Dawson stopped and stared at him. “Having Peter stay with you until his foster parents return and we can figure out if it’s safe for him to go back with them, of course.”

* * *

PIA ARRIVED AT RAOUL’S place at seven. There’d been so much to carry, she’d had to drive. Now she grabbed two shopping bags and headed toward the front door. He had it open before she made it to the small porch.

“What’s all that?” he asked.

“Dinner for many days to come. There’s more in the car.”

“More what?”

Poor man, she thought, handing him the bags. “Food. Word got out about you taking in Peter. People didn’t know when you’d get home, so they brought it to me.”

He was still standing there looking confused when she went back to her car for the second load. She collected the last three bags, shut her car door with her hip, then returned to the house.

“I don’t understand,” Raoul said, following her to the kitchen.

“Pia!”

She turned and saw Peter running toward her. He had a cast on his skinny forearm and had already changed into race-car pajamas.

“Hey, you,” she said, putting her bags on the kitchen table. “What happened?”

“I fell.” He held out his cast. “See.”

“Very impressive. Does it hurt?”

“No. I have drops.”

Some kind of pain medicine, she would guess. “Cool. Have you had dinner?”

Peter shook his head. “Just ice cream.”

Pia raised her eyebrows.

“Don’t look at me,” Raoul told her. “It was Mrs. Dawson’s idea.”

“A likely story,” Pia teased, then shrugged out of her coat and hung it on the back of a chair. “So, what are we in the mood for? There are lots of choices.”

She moved to the counter and started taking casserole dishes out of the various bags. “Lasagna, always a favorite. Seven-layer tamale pie.” She read each item as she set it down. “Chicken-and-noodle casserole, a vegetable bake.” She wrinkled her nose at Peter. “Probably not that one, huh?”

He laughed. “I like lasagna.”

“Me, too.” She glanced at Raoul. “Would you set the oven to three-fifty? It’s not frozen, so it won’t take long to heat up.”

He stood there, staring at her. “I don’t understand.”

She faced him. “When people heard that Peter would be staying with you for a few days, they brought food to help out. So you don’t have to cook dinner every night.”

“How did they hear?”

“Someone told them. Have you learned nothing about small-town living?”

She turned on the oven, then walked to the fridge. “Tell me the freezer’s empty, because you have food for days.”

He nodded, still looking shell-shocked.

“Why don’t you go help Peter wash his hands? You know the cast can’t get wet, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ll get things together in here. I’ll leave two dinners in the refrigerator for the next couple of nights. Oh, and there are stickers in that white bag. For your cast.”

“Cool!” Peter reached into the bag and pulled out the sheet of stickers. “Can we put them on now?”

Raoul looked at her. She laughed. “Go ahead. Dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes.”

They left the kitchen. A few minutes later, Raoul was back.

“I’m sorry,” he told her.

“For what?”

“We were supposed to have dinner together tonight.”

“We are.”

“Not like this,” he said. “I don’t know exactly how it happened. One second the social worker was talking, the next I had a kid.”

She patted her stomach. “I know the feeling.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be? Peter’s all alone, he’s hurt and no one knows where his foster parents are. You stepped up. Honestly, it makes you even nicer.”

“You hate nice.”

“I’m making an exception.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

He disappeared down the hall.

She stared after him, telling herself that just because he was a great guy didn’t mean it was safe to open her heart to him.

* * *

BY THE TIME THEY FINISHED dinner and got Peter settled in Raoul’s spare bedroom, it was after nine. Pia curled up on the sofa, telling herself that she had to get it together and head home. Despite not having many symptoms of her pregnancy to date, she was a little more tired than usual. Raoul sat at the other end of the couch, angled toward her.

“Thanks for everything,” he said.

“I just showed up with other people’s effort. There’s nothing to thank me for.”

“Poor kid.” Raoul sipped his beer. “Talk about a hell of a situation.”

“They really don’t know where his foster parents are?”

“That’s what Mrs. Dawson said. I hope they investigate them when they finally get back. Peter hasn’t said anything bad about them, but there are a few red flags.”

He’d already told her about the possibility that the kid wasn’t getting enough to eat. There was no excuse for neglect, she thought. But that didn’t stop it from happening.

He set down the bottle. “I had other plans for the evening,” he told her.

For a second she thought he meant sex. Her body reacted with an internal happy dance, and various parts of her went on alert.

He pulled open a small drawer from the underside of the coffee table and withdrew a small, square lavender jewelry box. She recognized the color and the design on the box. Jenel’s Gems was known for elegant, upscale, one-of-a-kind designs.

Her throat went dry and she had an odd and unexpected sense of shyness. The wanting faded as confusion took its place.

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“We’re getting married,” he reminded her. “I believe an engagement ring is traditional.”

“Yes, but…” Theirs wasn’t a traditional engagement. “I wasn’t expecting anything. You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to.”

He eased toward her and took her left hand in his. “Pia, thank you for agreeing to marry me. We’re going to make this work. I’ll be there for you, no matter what.”

His words made her ache. They were exactly what she’d always wanted to hear…almost.

“I’ll be there for you, too,” she whispered.

He smiled, then opened the box.

If she hadn’t been sitting, she would have fallen. The ring was incredible. Beautiful and sparkling, and large enough to make her nervous.

“The two diamond bands are wedding bands,” he said. “If you don’t like them, we can get something else.”

“They’re wonderful. Everything is stunning, but it’s too much.” She looked at him. “I would have been fine with a simple gold band.”

“Are you saying you’re not a diamond kind of girl?”

She returned her attention to the ring. “I haven’t been.”

“Then we need to change that.”

He drew out the engagement ring, then slid it on her finger. The fit was perfect. She stared down at the diamonds glinting on her finger.

“Thank you,” she told him.

“You’re welcome.”

He wrapped both arms around her and held her against him. She closed her eyes and told herself everything would be fine. That she was making the right decision. Love would have been nice, but wasn’t it better to sacrifice that silly dream in order to make sure Crystal’s babies would be taken care of their whole lives? Isn’t that what her friend would have wanted?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

RAOUL SPENT A SLEEPLESS night. Not that Peter was a problem, but because he kept getting up to check on the kid. But the boy never stirred.

They both woke up to Raoul’s alarm, then had a busy morning of getting ready. The plastic sleeve the hospital had provided protected the cast while Peter showered. The kid had managed to dress himself, except for tying his shoes, and had shown up at the kitchen table hair damp, face smiling, eyes eager.

“What’s for breakfast?” he asked.

“Waffles.”

Those green eyes got bigger. “You know how to make waffles?”

Raoul showed him the waffle maker he’d bought a few months ago after wandering through a big-box store and seeing a demonstration.

“That is so cool!” Peter told him.

He scrambled out of his seat and hurried around to watch as Raoul finished mixing the batter.

“Here’s the cup we use,” Raoul said, pointing to the plastic container with a big pour spout. “Go ahead and fill it to the line there.”

“I can do it?”

“Sure.”

Peter’s break was in his left forearm, and he was right-handed.

The boy carefully dipped the cup into the batter and scooped up the right amount. Raoul raised the lid on the waffle maker.

“Go ahead and pour it in the center. It’s already hot so it will spread out on its own.”

Peter did as instructed, then watched as the batter oozed out along the grid. “It’s not filling in all the way.”

“I know, but this is the fun part.”

Raoul closed the waffle maker, locked the two handles together, then spun it until it was upside down.

“Whoa!” Peter stared. “That’s the best.”

“Want to do the second one?”

“Sure.”

Raoul watched him, pleased the boy seemed rested and not in any pain. He was easy to be with. Bright and curious. When he thought about the fact that his foster parents might not be taking good care of him, he wanted to find them—or at least the dad—and beat the shit out of him.

Not an option, he reminded himself. He would trust the system to work this out. But just in case, he would talk to Dakota about what steps he could take to make sure Peter was in a safe environment.

But when he got to his office, after dropping Peter off at camp, Dakota wasn’t there. She’d left early the day before. He checked the machine to see if she’d called in sick, but there wasn’t any message.

By ten, he was worried and wondering whom to talk to. Just when he picked up the phone to call Pia, Dakota walked in.

She looked like hell. Her face was pale, her eyes red and swollen. There was an air of grief and loss about her, as if something important to her had been taken away from her. He was on his feet the second he saw her.

“What happened?” he demanded.

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. Were you in an accident? Did someone hurt you?”

If she’d had a boyfriend, he would assume he’d beaten her or slept with her best friend. But as far as he knew, Dakota wasn’t dating.

“I’m fine,” she said, her mouth trembling as she spoke. “You have to believe me.”

“Then you need to be more convincing.”

She forced a smile that was more ghoulish than happy. “How’s that?”

“Frightening.”

She sighed. “I’m fine. I know I look bad. I’m not hurt, I’m not sick.” She swallowed. “Everything is how it’s always been.”

“Dakota, get real. Something happened.”

“No, it didn’t.” Tears filled her eyes. “It didn’t.” The tears spilled down her cheeks.

Instinctively, he walked toward her, but she shook her head and backed away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t do this. I can’t be here today. I need a day or two. Sick days, vacation days, whatever you want.”

He felt helpless and confused. “Take whatever time you need. Can I call someone? One of your sisters? Your mom?”

“No. No one. I’m fine. I have to go.”

With that she grabbed her purse and practically ran out of the office. Raoul stared after her, not sure what he was supposed to do now. Let her go? Follow her? Call a friend?

She wasn’t physically hurt—he could figure out that much. So what had happened? Had she heard bad news? But if there’d been a disaster in the family, he would have heard about it. News traveled fast in Fool’s Gold.

He would give her time, he decided. If she wasn’t back at work in a couple of days, he would go talk to her. If she wouldn’t talk to him, he would insist she talk to someone else.

* * *

PIA STUDIED THE SIGNS and did her best not to shudder. Bad enough that busloads of men were pouring into town. Worse that there was going to be a bachelor auction.

It was embarrassing. Not for her specifically, but for the town.

“I just don’t like this,” she said.

Montana grinned. “That’s because you already have a good guy in your life.”

“Even if I didn’t, this would scare me. Who are these guys? What do they want?”

“If you have to ask the question, then Raoul is doing something very, very wrong.”

Pia turned away from her friend and did her best not to blush. “I’m newly pregnant. We’re not…you know.”

“I guess it would be weird to have sex knowing that someone else’s embryos are growing inside of you.”

Pia winced. “Thank you for spelling that out so clearly.”

“Am I wrong?”

“No, but still.”

Montana grinned. “So, did you ever…you know? Before the pregnancy?”

Pia thought about that amazing night. “Once,” she admitted, then waited to be struck by lightning for the lie. “Actually it was one evening, but several times.”

“Impressive. A man with stamina.”

“It is an appealing characteristic.” Although she was sure there would come a time when it was safe for them to do the wild thing while she was pregnant, she had a feeling she was going to have to wait until after the babies were born to have a repeat performance of that one, magical night.

“He did set the standard really high,” she added, “and we should talk about something else. How’s your sex life?”

“Nonexistent.”

“Then you should check out the new guys.”

“No, thanks.” Montana stapled the cardboard handles onto the auction paddles. “I’m focusing on my career right now.”

“You got the job?”

Montana grinned. “I did and I love it. The dogs are so great. Well-trained and friendly. Max is the best, too. He’s really patient. I’m doing lots of reading and I’ve started my online class. I’m going to Sacramento in a few weeks for an intense three-week training seminar. Max is even paying for that, if you can believe it.”

“You like Max,” Pia said, pleased to see her friend so happy.

“Of course. He’s so nice and he knows everything about dogs and…” Montana wrinkled her nose. “Um, no. Don’t even go there.”

“Office romances are very stylish.”

“It’s not like that. He’s in his fifties and even if he wasn’t, I admire him. I don’t want a romantic relationship with him. We’re friends.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” She nudged Pia. “It’s already happening. You’re engaged and now you want everyone else paired up.”

“I don’t. I just want my friends to be happy and if—” She paused as she saw Montana’s eyes practically bug out of her head. “What?”

“The ring. It’s incredible.”

Pia resisted the urge to tuck her hand behind her back. She loved her engagement ring, but she was having a little trouble getting used to it. And not apologizing for it. The stones were stunning and the whole thing was so bright, it was practically a light source.

“Raoul picked it out,” she murmured.

“Does he have a brother?”

Something she should know, but didn’t. “I can ask.”

Montana grabbed her hand and stared at the ring. “I love it more than life.”

“Thanks.”

“Make you a little nervous?”

“Some. Nothing about the situation feels real to me. Not the engagement or even being pregnant.” She lowered her voice. “I’ve peed on a stick and had an ultrasound. I’m really, really pregnant. So why don’t I feel different?”

“You’ve gone through a lot in a very short period of time. You’ll get there.”

“I hope.” Although Pia was starting to have her doubts. Maybe there was something wrong with her. “What if I can’t bond with the babies when they’re born? What if I can’t love them?”

“You won’t have a choice. You’re going to be a great mom, Pia. Stop doubting yourself.”

Pia put down the signs. “I want to believe you, but I can’t. Both my parents left me. So has every guy I’ve ever cared about. I want to think it will be different with Raoul and the babies, but I’m not sure.”

“Raoul’s not going anywhere. He’s a good guy.”

He was a guy who was marrying her to get a readymade family. Not because he was crazy in love with her.

“Besides,” Montana continued. “You never know how things are going to work out. My parents loved each other every day of their marriage. When my dad died, we were all scared Mom wasn’t going to make it. But he wasn’t the only love of her life.”

Pia hadn’t heard that. “What do you mean?”

Montana grinned. “She has a tattoo on her hip. It says Max.”

“Your Max?”

“No. He’s new to the area. The tattoo is old. Over the years, Dakota, Nevada and I have tried to find out who he is, and Mom isn’t saying a word. My point is, love happens. You’re going to do great with the babies and I’m guessing Raoul is going to fall madly in love with you. You’ll see.”

* * *

RAOUL PARKED IN FRONT of the large house. “I know it’s old,” he told Pia, “but I had Ethan go over the whole thing and it’s sound. The floor plan is great. Plenty of bedrooms, a large kitchen, which needs to be gutted, but then you could have everything you wanted. There’s a big yard out back, some great trees for climbing. It’s the perfect family home.”

He waited anxiously while Pia glanced at the three-story house with round eyes. It was in one of the older neighborhoods in town—an affluent section built in the 1920s. The second he’d seen the house, he’d known it was exactly what he’d been looking for.

“There are eight bedrooms, including three on the third story. The second story has a decent-size master, but I thought we could tear down the wall between it and the smallest bedroom to expand it. Upgrade the bathroom, make the closet bigger.”

She turned to him, her expression unreadable. “Because you have a lot of shoes?”

“I know you do. It’s a chick thing.”

“I guess it is.”

She didn’t seem that excited about the house. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Don’t you like the place?”

“It has potential,” she said, opening the car door. “We should go inside.”

He followed her, wondering what was going on with the women in his life. Dakota had returned to work the next day, but she still wasn’t herself. He’d asked what was wrong several times and she kept insisting everything was fine. Too bad she was a lousy liar. And now Pia was acting strangely.

He followed her up to the front porch. It was as wide as the house and several feet deep.

“Are you mad because I went looking at houses without you?” he asked.

“No. You said you were going to. It’s fine.”

He thought about mentioning he’d brought Peter with him the previous day and the kid had loved the house, but he wasn’t sure it would help.

“I know I’ve been busy,” he said as he fished the key out of his jacket pocket. “Having Peter around. His foster parents are due back in a couple of days. Mrs. Dawson has been investigating them and can’t find any kind of trouble, so he’ll be going back to them.”

She turned to him and pressed her hand against his chest. “Raoul, I’m not mad because you’re taking care of a little boy who’s hurt. I think it’s wonderful and amazing. In fact, I’d love to come to dinner with the two of you, before Peter has to leave. I’m not mad about the house. I’m not mad about anything.”

“You swear?”

“Yes.”

She raised herself on tiptoe. He bent down and kissed her.

The feel of her mouth against his, her body so close, made him want to pull her against him and take advantage of the empty house. One night with Pia hadn’t been enough. But until he talked to her doctor about when it was okay to seduce Pia back into his bed, he wasn’t going to do anything to put the babies in danger.

“Tonight?” he asked, knowing they were talking about dinner but wishing it were something else. “Sure.”

He opened the front door and led the way inside.

They stepped into a large two-story foyer. The formal living room was to the left, the dining room to the right. There was a study, an eat-in kitchen and a family room, all on this level.

“Let’s start at the top,” he said, pointing to the stairs.

“Okay.”

He led the way. At the top floor, he pointed out the three bedrooms. There were several large linen closets off the hall.

“If we give up this closet,” he said, pointing, “we can have a Jack-and-Jill bath. Now with three kids, it could still be a problem, so I talked to Ethan about turning this other one into a half bath. Just a toilet and sink.”

“Uh-huh.”

He showed her the three bedrooms. They were all about the same size, with sloped ceilings and bay windows with window seats.

“Great for reading,” he said.

“Especially on rainy days. You’d need a bunch of cushions, though, and maybe some blankets.”

He watched her cautiously. She was saying all the right things, but something was wrong. He felt it in his gut.

She led the way to the second floor. The master bedroom was in the back. He showed her the small bedroom that could be made part of the master suite, the hall bath that was huge and the excess of storage.

“It’s nice,” she said. “Lots of light and space. I really like the craftsman details.”

They went to the main floor. He told her everything he wanted to do in the kitchen. Then he led the way to the study.

“This room is great,” he told her. “I don’t usually like paneling, but the combination of wood and windows really works. There are plenty of bookshelves.”

He waited for her to walk in, but instead of looking at the room, she took a step to the side and tucked her hands behind her back.

“Pia?”

She seemed lost in thought. “You’re going through a real estate agent, right? Josh doesn’t own this house.”

“He recommended someone. His houses are all smaller. With three kids coming, I knew we’d need something bigger.”

She looked at him. “Did the agent say anything about the family who lived here before?”

“No.” His gut clenched. “Did you know them?”

She nodded. “My family owned this house.”

She’d lived here? Talk about being an idiot, he thought. “Why didn’t you say something? Why did you let me give you a tour?”

“I wanted to know what it would be like to be back in the house. I wanted to know…” She stared at the study. “My father committed suicide in there. I’m the one who found the body.”

* * *

PIA WAS PLEASED SHE could say the words without flinching. It was almost as if she were telling a story about someone else. Perhaps enough time had passed that the past didn’t have any power over her, although she had her doubts.

She turned her back on the study and walked into the living room. This space was safer, she thought. Fewer memories.

“I had the whole third floor to myself,” she told Raoul. “I slept in one room and had another set up with couches and a TV. My friends all came here because I had the cool parents who didn’t care what we did. We could stay up all night, talk on the phone, even steal liquor from the cabinet in my dad’s study. Whatever the hot thing was, I had it. Everyone envied me. They thought I was lucky.”

He didn’t speak, he just stood next to her, listening. She looked out the window because it was easier than seeing the pity in his eyes.

“It took me a while to figure out neither of them ever cared about me. I was just another way to show status. We only cared about how things looked, not how they were. I grew up selfish and mean. Having more clothes than I could ever wear didn’t make up for having parents who never loved me. I resented the other kids who were smarter, or had a great family.”

Involuntarily, she looked at him. Thankfully, there was no emotion in his expression.

“I was mean,” she said flatly. “I tormented everyone who wasn’t in my circle of friends. I made fun of them, spread rumors about them, told lies. And because of who my parents were, everyone believed me.” She tried to smile and failed. “You would have hated me.”

“I doubt that.”

“You would have. And I would have deserved it.” She was sure of it. “When I was sixteen, my father was charged with embezzling from his company. The news only got worse. He hadn’t paid taxes or bills. I don’t know where the money went. Maybe we spent it all. By the beginning of my senior year, it became clear that he was going to be charged with some serious crimes. Rather than face the felony charges, he put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger.”

Raoul reached out to her, but she stepped back. He couldn’t touch her—not now. If he did, she wouldn’t be able to get through the story.

“I heard the noise and came running. I burst into his study.” She paused, willing herself to say the words, but not actually remembering what it had been like. “It’s not the same as the movies. It’s not that clean. There was blood everywhere.”

She swallowed. “I called 9-1-1 and then I don’t remember very much. My mom left for Florida and I went into foster care. Everything was different. I didn’t have this house or half my things. And all those kids I’d tortured got their revenge. They made my life a living hell.”

She turned to look out the window again. “I don’t blame them. I deserved it.”

“What about your mom? Did you want to go with her?”

She nodded. “She wouldn’t let me. She said she needed time. There was no discussion about what I might need. She told me it was important for me to graduate with all my friends, and when I tried to tell her I didn’t have friends anymore she wouldn’t listen.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t know what happened to the house. If it was sold or repossessed or what. I finished school. My grades had never been better, probably because I didn’t have any distractions. I was voted off the cheerleading team, my boyfriend dumped me. I applied for a part-time job with the city, which is how I got involved with what I do now. My mother didn’t come back for my high school graduation and she made it clear I wouldn’t be welcome in Florida. I haven’t seen her since.”

She felt him moving toward her and even though she wanted to duck away, she didn’t have the energy. She was unable to move, even as his strong arms came around her and held her tight.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his breath whispering across the side of her face. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

He turned her so they were facing each other and stared into her eyes. “You know what? You really are. You went through hell and survived.”

She shrugged out of his embrace. “Don’t be nice.”

“Why not?”

“Because then I might believe you.”

He studied her for a long time. She felt naked and vulnerable. Alone. Broken.

Then he pulled her close again and held on so tight it was hard to breathe. She should have wanted to pull away, but it felt good. Too good.

“You can believe in me,” he told her. “I’m going to marry you, Pia. Nothing bad will ever happen to you again.”

She closed her eyes and let herself lean into him. “You can’t promise that.”

“I know, but I’ll do my best.” He released her just enough to cup her face in his hands, then he kissed her. “No one is ever going to leave you again.”

His words made her eyes burn.

He cleared his throat. “Given what happened this time, you should probably pick the next house.”

Despite everything she laughed. “You think?”

He kissed her again. “Are you going to be okay?”

She nodded. From the safety of his arms, she had a feeling everything was going to be just fine.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE BACHELOR AUCTION and talent show were being held in the Fool’s Gold Convention Center, a grand term for a cement-and-block-wall structure that had been planned as a big-box store. Twenty years ago some local contractor—long since out of business—had subscribed to the philosophy of “if you build it, they will come.” He’d built it and no one had shown up to rent the space. The city had bought the building and used it for various events.

The advantage was plenty of open space that could be broken up into nearly any size room. About ten years ago, the interior had been updated with a huge industrial kitchen and lots of bathrooms. Pia had taken over about half the building for the night. The place wasn’t exactly elegant, but it was functional and free, which was important, given her meager budget.

A stage had been assembled at one end, and several city workers were setting up chairs. Off to the side the banner proclaiming Fool’s Gold’s Bachelor Auction had yet to be hung and she did her best to avoid looking at it. Talk about a hideous event. The talent show was only going to make things worse. No doubt all the media attending would go out of their way to make the town look like a refuge for men-starved women of a certain age.

Because her days weren’t already crammed with plenty to do, Raoul had called that morning and informed her his former coach was visiting. Pia knew how much Hawk had meant to him. No doubt he was looking forward to the visit. Pia, on the other hand, was having a case of nerves brought on by meeting the emotional equivalent of the in-laws. Hawk was bringing his wife, Nicole.

She had no idea if Raoul was going to tell them the truth about the engagement, and honestly she couldn’t decide which she wanted. Faking being in love in front of the two people who cared about Raoul most seemed like a challenge. But if they knew what was really happening, wouldn’t they try to talk him out of it? And as freakish as the idea of marrying for reasons of practicality might be, Pia had found herself depending on the fact that Raoul was going to be there for her.

Dakota crossed the cement floor of the convention center, her arms filled with an overflowing box of auction paddles. “Do you really think we’re going to need this many?”

Pia nodded. “Oh, yes. We’re having quite the turnout. It’s not just ladies from Fool’s Gold who will be attending. We’re pulling them in from the whole county.”

“Lucky us.”

Montana followed her sister. She had a box full of programs for the talent show. “Did you look at these?” she asked. “There’s a woman who’s dancing with her dog.”

Pia led them to the table against the wall. “I saw her audition. It’s not as scary as it sounds. They both do ballet.”

The sisters stared at her.

Dakota set down her box. “On what planet isn’t that scary?”

“At least they’re not dancing together.”

“Okay,” Montana said slowly, lowering her box to the table. “Tell me it’s not a poodle.”

Pia pressed her lips together. “Sorry. It’s a big one, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t.”

They all laughed, although Dakota’s amusement seemed a little forced. Montana must have noticed that as well, because she turned to her sister.

“Are you okay? You don’t seem perky.”

“I’m perky.”

“Want to take a vote?” Montana asked.

Dakota shrugged. “I’m thinking about some stuff in my life. Reevaluating. I feel as if I’ve been drifting.”

That was news to Pia. “Drifting how?”

Montana sank into a folding chair. “Oh, God. If you getting your PhD and helping children is drifting, what does that make me? An earthworm?”

“It’s not about what I do,” Dakota said. “Getting the work done isn’t the point. You have so much passion for your life. I feel like I’m going through the motions. I’m not sure what’s important to me. I’m not dating, but it doesn’t really bother me. I want to wake up excited about my life.” She shrugged. “I have some thinking to do.”

Pia had to agree with Montana. Dakota was one of the most together women she knew. It was kind of scary to think someone she’d always thought of as borderline perfect had issues. If Dakota had trouble figuring things out, what hope did the rest of them have?

Montana crossed to her sister and hugged her. “I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy.”

Montana shook her head. “You’re not.”

Dakota smiled. “Okay. Then I will be. How’s that?”

“Better,” Montana said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Pia felt her throat get a little tight as she watched the sisters hug each other. She’d always wondered what it would be like to grow up with a sibling. While she would never know, Crystal’s babies would have that experience.

She lightly touched her stomach. “You’re always going to have each other,” she whispered. “Won’t that be great?”

Before the moment could spiral into a hugging, tearful vat of emotion, two other women approached. Pia recognized one as a head nurse from the hospital. The other was a lawyer in town. Both were in their fifties, with the lawyer slightly closer to sixty than her friend.

Bea, the lawyer, stopped in front of Pia. “About this auction,” she began without a greeting. “Have you vetted the men? Done background checks? Will they have papers?”

Pia had worked with Bea before and was used to her abrupt style. “They’re coming to a dinner-dance, not immigrating into the country. What kind of papers are you looking for?”

“How do we know they’re safe?”

Pia sighed. “Buyer beware.”

Bea’s friend, Nina, smiled at Pia. “Will there be a preview? Can we look them over before we bid? Is there a list of what they will or won’t do?”

Crap, crap, crap. “We’re sponsoring the auction, ladies. We’re talking dinner and dancing, not anything else.”

Bea snorted. “She thinks you’re looking for sex, Nina.”

Nina, a petite brunette, flushed. “Oh, no. Not that. I was wondering if I could ask the guy to clean out my gutters. There’s a lot of leaves up there and I hate getting on a ladder.”

Gutters? From the corner of her eye, Pia saw Dakota and Montana trying not to laugh.

“You win a night that includes dinner and dancing,” Pia repeated, telling herself it was important to be patient. “The woman pays. Proceeds from the auction itself go to the city for various charity projects.”

“Who needs a man for dancing?” Bea muttered. “I’m too old to care about that.”

Nina tilted her head. “I don’t know. A night of dancing sounds kind of nice.”

“There are plenty of young women who’ll be in competition with you, Nina. Bidding against you.”

Nina grinned. “Yes, but being of a certain age has advantages. We have more money.”

Bea didn’t look amused. “Perhaps you should use some of that precious money of yours to hire someone to clean out your gutters.”

“You’re always so crabby,” Nina complained, then turned back to Pia. “Thanks for the information. I guess I’m going to have to find another way to get the gutters cleaned.”

“Pick up the phone book,” Bea muttered. “I know you can spell.”

The two women walked away.

“I thought the auction was going to be boring,” Montana admitted when Bea and Nina were out of earshot. “But now I can’t wait to be here.”

“Are you going to bid?” Dakota asked.

“No, but I’m bringing popcorn. Talk about a show.”

Pia sank into a chair and rubbed her temples. “I don’t get paid enough to do this.”

“Probably not,” Dakota said cheerfully, “but at least it’s never boring.”

“Right now, boring sounds really, really good.”

* * *

RAOUL WALKED ONTO THE playground at the mountain school only to find himself surrounded by kids.

“Come play with us.”

“No, me.”

“Can you help me throw harder?”

“We want to jump rope. Will you hold the rope?”

Raoul felt like the leader of a very short tribe. He raised his hands in the air. “I’m here to check on my main man. Then we’ll talk about playing.”

There were a few grumbles, but the kids fell back, allowing him to walk over to Peter and his friends. The boy grinned when he saw Raoul and launched himself at him. Raoul caught him easily.

“How are you doing?” he asked the boy. “All settled?”

Peter had returned to his foster home the previous afternoon. Mrs. Dawson had done a thorough investigation and while she admitted the Folios weren’t her favorite family, she couldn’t remove a child based on a feeling. There had to be something closer to proof.

The boy hung on to Raoul. “It’s okay. They’re being really nice. Don says he’s going to sue the school ’cause of my fall. But I don’t know who Sue is.”

Raoul put down the boy and made a mental note to talk to Don about his plan. If he thought he could get some easy money out of the school district and keep it for himself, he was about to have a change in attitude.

“I’ve been practicing throwing,” Peter continued happily.

“Just throwing, right? No catching.”

The kid sighed. “I know. Not until my arm is better.”

“If you want to play football, you need to be strong all over. That means letting your arm heal.”

“Will I be as big as you?”

“I don’t know.” Raoul didn’t have any details about Peter’s real parents. He wondered if he could ask around and get some information. “Want to show me what you can do?”

“Uh-huh.”

Peter ran over to the box of balls. Several other boys spotted what he was doing and followed. Raoul quickly organized them into groups and had them throwing back and forth to each other, like in a training camp.

“Good,” he said, walking behind them, watching them throw. “Billy, straighten that arm. Your strength is in your shoulder, not your wrist. Nice, Trevor. Great follow-through.”

He felt someone tug on his jacket and looked down to see a girl in glasses and pigtails staring up at him.

“Can I throw, too?” she asked.

The boy closest shook his head. “No girls. Go away.”

The girl ignored him. “I want to learn.”

“Girls play, too,” Raoul said, leading her to the end of the line. He motioned for Jackson to throw him a ball, then get in position to catch. “Why don’t you show me what you can do.”

The girl took the ball, pushed up her glasses, then threw the baseball with enough power to make a pop when it hit the glove. Jackson winced.

Raoul grinned. “You’ve got quite an arm there, young lady.”

“I want to be able to hit my big brother in the head and knock him out. He’s always teasing me.”

“Okay. I’m happy to help you with your throwing, but you have to promise never to aim at your brother’s head. The way you throw, you could hurt him really bad.”

Her eyes widened. “He says I’m a weak, whiny girl.”

“Probably because you’re better than him.”

She beamed. “I never thought about that.”

Dakota walked up. “Creating dissension between the sexes at such a young age?”

“I’m not that young.”

She laughed. “You know what I meant.”

“I do.” He studied her, seeing that she looked rested and a lot less sad. “You’re feeling better.”

“I am.

“Good. Want to talk about what happened?”

“No.”

The bell rang, indicating that it was time to head back into class. The kids threw the balls and gloves into the box and raced past them. Peter looked back and waved.

“You did good with him,” Dakota said.

“He made it easy.”

“You hold yourself back from most of the kids, but with him, you’re different.”

They walked toward the main building. He wasn’t surprised she’d figured out the truth about him.

“Old habit,” he said.

“I’m sure there are a lot of reasons,” she said. “The fame, for one thing. You can’t know who’s interested in you for you or because they want something.”

“Less of an issue now.”

“Possibly. Plus I would guess there are just too many kids to help individually. You can’t be in more than one place at once. So you created the camp to help as many kids as you can. It has the added benefit of allowing you to keep your distance.”

“You really feel the need to use your psychology degree, don’t you?”

“Sometimes. It can be very flashy at parties.”

He knew she was right about all of it. He did hold himself back. He’d been burned plenty of times in college and during his first few years in the NFL. Finally he’d learned the lesson that helping from a distance was a whole lot easier.

Since things had gone bad with Caro, it was also smarter. Her betrayal had shaken him on many levels. She’d made him question his ability to read someone.

“You don’t have to do anything at all,” Dakota said. “It’s not required.”

“Sure it is. I was taught that if life gives you advantages, you give back.”

“Your former coach?”

“Uh-huh. If I wasn’t doing something, he’d come down here and kick my ass.”

She smiled. “Cheap talk. You didn’t buy this camp for him. You bought it because you wanted to.”

He shrugged. “Hawk can be the voice in my head, telling me what to do.”

“My mom is that for me. I think it’s a good thing.”

“Psychologically sound?” he asked.

She laughed. “Definitely. I think it’s important to stay on the side of sanity.”

“You’re the professional.” He held open the door to the main building.

“How’s Pia doing?” she asked.

“Good. Why?”

“Aren’t Hawk and his wife coming to visit for a couple of days?”

“Sure.”

“Technically they don’t qualify as family, but emotionally, these are the in-laws. Don’t you think that’s going to make her nervous?”

He hadn’t thought of it that way. “There’s nothing for her to worry about. They’ll like her.”

Dakota’s expression turned pitying. “You’ve been married before. Do you really think that’s what she’s sitting around thinking?”

His face fell. “Oh. Right. I should probably go talk to her, huh?”

Dakota patted his arm. “Don’t take it personally. You can’t help it, just being a man and all.”

* * *

PIA TOLD HERSELF THAT pacing counted as exercise and exercise was healthy. It’s not as if her body knew she was wearing a path in Raoul’s carpet rather than striding through the park or doing time on a treadmill. Life was about reframing, she told herself.

“Would you relax?” Raoul walked into the living room and crossed to her. After putting his hands on her shoulders, he leaned in and kissed her. “They’re going to love you.”

“Do you have proof? Because proof would be nice.”

“They’ll love you,” he repeated.

“Saying something over and over again doesn’t make it happen. No matter how many times I tell you I’m a giraffe, you’re not going to believe me.”

He eyed her. “Have you had coffee today?”

“No. This isn’t me hyped on caffeine. I’m doing this all myself.”

“You should try breathing.”

As if that would help. “What if I don’t want to meet them?” she asked. “I’m sure they’re very nice people, but this all seems so unnecessary. I’ll be taking up your visiting time. Why don’t you meet them by yourself and tell me about it. You can take pictures. It’ll be like I was there.”

“I’d rather you were there.”

“Think of the babies. All this stress can’t be good for them. I think I need to throw up.”

“Relax,” he said softly, right before he kissed her.

It was a good kiss, too, damn him. One that lingered and made her feel all melty inside.

“That’s cheating,” she said when he straightened.

“I prefer to think of it as getting the job done.”

“It’s still cheating.”

He stared into her eyes. “I’m going to marry you, Pia. Hawk and Nicole are my family, so they’ll be part of your life, as well. Why put off the inevitable?”

“Because putting it off makes me feel better.” She heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Her stomach twisted. “I think they’re here.”

He took her hand and led her to the front door, then stepped outside.

A large four-door BMW pulled up. Pia wasn’t sure there was a name or number, mostly because she couldn’t tell one fancy car from the other. Okay, it was green, but that was the best she could do.

As she thought seriously about throwing up, she watched a tall, good-looking man step out. Based on what she knew about Hawk, he had to be in his late forties, but he looked a lot younger. Then his wife got out of the car. She was a beautiful, elegant blonde. Despite the jeans and button-down shirt, she looked sophisticated—like the kind of woman who always knew what to say.

Pia held in a whimper.

“You made it,” Raoul said as he stepped off the porch. He walked to Hawk and the two men hugged. Nicole joined them. Raoul kissed her cheek. She held on to him for several seconds before letting go and stepping back.

“Small-town life agrees with you,” she said. “You look good.”

“Always,” Raoul said with a laugh. “Come meet Pia.”

She’d agonized about what to wear, wanting to make a good impression without trying too hard. There was also the pregnancy to consider. Despite having puffy and bloated moments, she wasn’t really showing. In the end, she’d settled on a tunic-length forest green top over black jeans. As a tour of the town was on the agenda, she’d put on flats.

“Hello,” she said, holding out her hand first to Hawk. “Nice to meet you.”

“Didn’t you warn her?” Hawk asked as he ignored the outstretched hand. Instead he grabbed her around her waist and pulled her into a bear hug. “Welcome to the family, Pia.” He swung her around a full 360 degrees before setting her on the ground.

“Thanks,” she managed while doing her best to regain her footing.

“You’ll scare the poor girl,” Nicole said, stepping close and hugging Pia more gently. “He’s just a big lug of a man. You’ll have to forgive him.”

“Of course,” Pia said, feeling a little disoriented. She’d been worried about Raoul’s family judging her and being standoffish. Apparently that wasn’t going to be a problem.

Nicole linked arms with her and they walked inside. “I understand you and Raoul are looking for a house. That’s so fun. Hawk and I have been in our place forever now. And as much as I love my children, I am, I confess, delighted to be away from them for a few days.”

“Raoul said you drove down from Seattle.”

“Yes, we’re going to Los Angeles.”

“Road trip,” Hawk said, coming in with Raoul. “One of my former students is playing for USC. We’re going to catch a game, then drive home.”

“I said let’s fly,” Nicole told Pia, her tone weary but her eyes bright with amusement. “We could have stopped in Sacramento and rented a car to come here. But no…”

She released Pia’s arm. Hawk came up behind Nicole and slipped his arms around her waist. “Are you saying you haven’t enjoyed being in a hotel room with me for the past two nights?”

“Hawk! The children.”

Pia wanted to point out that she was twenty-eight and that Raoul was a few years older than her, but she didn’t. In a way it was kind of nice to have someone a little older than her worrying about her. It had been a lot of years since that had happened.

Hawk kissed his wife. “Nicole, I hate to break it to you, but they’ve already had sex. They know what it is.”

Pia hoped she wasn’t blushing.

Raoul caught her eye and grinned. “See what I have to deal with?” Everyone laughed.

They settled on the sofa and chairs in the living room and talked. Nicole brought Raoul up to date on what her kids were doing. Hawk and Raoul talked football. Pia mostly listened. After about half an hour, Raoul stood.

“Let’s do a tour of town. Then we can have lunch.”

“Want us to drive?” Hawk asked.

Raoul shook his head. “We’ll walk. There’s not that much to see.”

As they walked down the sidewalk, Pia noticed that Nicole kept pace with her while Hawk and Raoul seemed to be getting ahead of them. She recognized the separation of the sexes for what it was.

“Why don’t you two meet us at the restaurant in an hour,” Nicole called. “Go talk about sports. I get enough of that at home.” The older woman smiled. “We can entertain ourselves until then.”

Pia forced a smile and told herself that Nicole seemed really nice. Everything was going to be fine.

They strolled down by the park, toward the lake. Pia pointed out Morgan’s Books, the store with the fabulous fudge and the entrance to her office. She noticed there were a lot more men out and about than usual, but she didn’t want to bring that up. Telling Nicole about Fool’s Gold’s sudden influx of men would probably scare her.

They chatted about the weather, reality TV and how it would be a good thing if cropped pants never came back in style.

Nicole pointed to the Starbucks. “Come on. I’d kill for a latte.”

When they had their drinks—a mocha for Nicole and an herbal tea for Pia—they settled at a table by the window. Pia did her best not to acknowledge the men watching them.

“Raoul mentioned you’re in charge of the festivals in town,” Nicole said. “Thanks for taking time off work to meet us.”

“I wanted to,” Pia said, telling herself that now that she’d met Nicole, it wasn’t exactly a lie. “You’re his family.”

“He’s been important to us for a long time.” She glanced out the window and sighed. “I love it here. What a great place to grow up.”

“We do have less rain than Seattle.”

“I think the Amazon jungle has less rain than Seattle,” Nicole joked. “I was worried about Raoul after his divorce. He couldn’t figure out what to do with himself. I thought he’d come back home, but this is better. He needs to make his own way. Hawk was lucky. When he left the NFL, he knew he wanted to coach high school football. Not everyone is so clear.”

“You know about the camp Raoul bought?” Pia asked.

“Uh-huh. It sounds great. And now there’s a school up there?”

Pia explained about the fire. “It’s probably going to take a couple of years for the regular school to be repaired. They’re hoping to get the money quickly and get started, but who knows. Without the camp, the kids would have been shoved into already crowded schools.”

“Raoul is hero material,” Nicole said with a smile. “He gets that from Hawk.”

From what she’d heard, the couple had been together for a long time, yet they were still obviously in love. Pia felt a twinge of envy. Loving someone that long, being loved…it had to feel very safe and yet exciting at the same time. For a second she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to experience that herself. To have love grow stronger every year.

Longing filled her, a physical ache that made it difficult to breathe. She wasn’t going to get that with Raoul. Theirs was a practical arrangement. Perhaps, with time, they would grow to love each other, but it wouldn’t be the same, she thought sadly. The history of a courtship would never be there. The “falling in love” that made everything seem right in the world.

Nicole leaned over and touched Pia’s left hand. “Beautiful ring.”

“Thank you.” She pressed her lips together, telling herself not to say she hadn’t been expecting a ring at all—let alone one this amazing.

“We’re happy Raoul’s found someone.”

The statement made Pia nervous. She couldn’t tell if Nicole knew why they were getting married. Though she was willing to stay quiet on the whys of the engagement, she wasn’t willing to lie about the pregnancy.

“Did Raoul tell you I was pregnant?” Pia asked.

Nicole raised her eyebrows, then laughed. “No, he didn’t. How wonderful. Raoul’s finally having a child. Excellent.”

She felt as if she’d just stepped into something sticky. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Nicole laughed. “Much like pregnancy itself, there’s no do-over. Sorry. Besides, I’m really happy. For what it’s worth, I was pregnant when Hawk and I got married.”

“Yes, but it was probably his baby.”

To give her credit, Nicole barely blinked. She picked up her mocha, took a sip and said, “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

PIA EXPLAINED ABOUT Crystal and Keith and the embryos. “I’m still not sure why she left them to me, but she did and they’re implanted and I’m pregnant.”

“Triplets,” Nicole said. “I’m a twin and I had twins, so I know what that’s like. You’re going to have three. That’s a lot of diapers.”

“I try not to think about it,” Pia admitted. Or feedings, or getting them all to sleep at the same time. In fact, she was pretty much in denial.

“What did Raoul say when you told him what you wanted to do?” Nicole asked.

She was assuming they’d been dating, Pia thought. That the embryos had added an extra dimension to an already ongoing relationship.

“He offered to be my pregnancy buddy,” she said, determined to stick to the truth as much as possible.

“That sounds like him.” Nicole studied her. “You could have walked away from them.”

“No,” Pia said firmly. “I would never abandon them.” She knew what that felt like.

“What about giving them to someone else?”

Pia shook her head. “Crystal left them to me. I may never know why, but I’ll do the best I can with her children. She was my friend.”

Nicole reached out and squeezed her hand. “You’re nothing like Caro, are you?”

“I don’t know much about her. What was she like?”

Nicole released her hand and leaned back in her chair. “Beautiful. Smart. She’s a news anchor.”

Pia already hated her. “Great.”

Nicole laughed. “Please don’t tell Raoul, but that was my reaction when I met her. She says all the right things, but I always had the feeling she would rather have been anywhere but with us. I want to say I’m sorry about their divorce, but honestly I was relieved. I’m so glad he found you.”

“Me, too,” Pia said. Maybe theirs wasn’t the fantasy love every little girl dreamed of, but it was stable and solid and for her, that was going to be enough.

* * *

RAOUL AND HAWK made their way to Jo’s Bar.

“Brace yourself,” Raoul said as he pulled open the door. “It’s not what you think.”

Hawk stepped inside, then came to a stop as he stared at the big-screen TVs. Three were on the network soaps and the fourth was on a home shopping channel.

“What the hell?”

“Don’t ask,” Raoul told him, then glanced toward the bar. “Jo, could you send over two beers?”

“Sure. Going into your man cave?”

“As fast as we can.” He pointed to the doorway off to the side. “Through there. You’ll feel better.”

The smaller room had a couple of pool tables, a couple of TVs tuned to sports and was a masculine dark blue color. A relief from the pink and lime green Jo had recently painted the main room. For once it was relatively crowded with men, most of whom Raoul didn’t recognize.

Jo delivered the beers and left them with a bowl of pretzels.

“Interesting place,” Hawk said, then took a sip of his beer. “You like it here.”

Raoul nodded.

“Are you happy?” his former coach asked.

“Not a real masculine question,” Raoul joked.

“I’ve been married nearly all my adult life,” Hawk told him. “I can barely hang on to any masculinity. Just don’t tell anyone I talk about my feelings.”

“I won’t say a word.” Raoul rested his forearms on the table and looked at his mentor. “I’m happy. I didn’t know what to expect when I moved here, but it’s turning out even better than I thought.”

“You have the camp.”

Raoul explained how it was being used as a school. “It’ll be a while until they’re able to move back into their old building. We’ll still have camp in the summer, when the local kids are out of school, but we’ve had to put our winter plans on hold.”

“You okay with that?”

“I would have liked to get started with the math and science programs sooner rather than later, but they needed a place to have school. I’m not going to put three hundred kids out on the street because I have an ego problem.”

Hawk slapped him on the shoulder. “I like hearing that. It means I did a good job raising you.”

“It couldn’t be my sterling character?”

“Not likely.”

They laughed and clinked bottles.

“Pia seems nice,” Hawk said.

“She is. She was born and raised here. I told you she runs all the festivals in town. It’s a lot of coordinating, working with different people. When the school needed an emergency fundraiser and supply drive, she got it done in a couple of days.” He glanced at his friend. “She’s pregnant.”

Hawk raised his eyebrows. “You okay with that?”

“Yeah. I’m happy.” He hesitated. “The babies aren’t mine.”

Hawk picked up his beer bottle but didn’t drink. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Tell me about it.”

Raoul explained about Crystal and the embryos.

“That’s a lot to take on,” Hawk said when he’d finished. “Responsibility, time, money. They’re not going to be yours.”

Raoul didn’t fall for it. “They’ll be mine. I’ll be there when they’re born and see them through their whole lives. How could they not be mine?”

Hawk didn’t look convinced. “You doing this because of Caro? Are you secretly figuring it won’t be as big a problem because they’re not your biological children? You’re wrong—they’ll be yours in every sense of the word. You won’t be able to hold back with them.”

“I don’t want to hold back.”

“You sure about that?”

It was a question Raoul had wrestled with since finding out about Pia’s plans for the embryos. He’d meant it when he’d promised to be there for her, to be a real father to those children.

“I want to be their father. I want to be involved with them, the way you were there for me. You might have come into my life when I was in high school, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t shape everything about me. I can do this. I want to do this.”

Hawk took a long drink of his beer. “Kids aren’t easy under the best of circumstances. Triplets. That’s a load and a half.”

Raoul grinned. “It’s probably three loads.”

“Smart-ass.” Hawk shook his head. “You sure about this? Once you commit, there’s no turning back.”

“I’m sure.” It was what he wanted.

“Make sure you get married for the right reasons.”

Raoul could do the translation. Hawk wanted him to be sure he was marrying Pia because he loved her and couldn’t live without her. Not because it was the right thing to do.

It was the only secret he would keep from his friend. The truth was, not loving Pia was part of the appeal. He’d been in love once, had married Caro and had paid the price. Never again, he’d promised himself, and he meant it.

“Pia’s the one,” he said, sidestepping the issue.

“Then I’m happy for you.”

Raoul couldn’t tell if Hawk believed him or was simply going along with things. In the end, he supposed it didn’t matter. Whatever the outcome, Hawk would be there for him, just like he would be there for the babies Pia carried.

* * *

PIA LOOKED UP FROM HER desk to find Charity Jones-Golden standing in the doorway.

“You’re busy,” her friend said.

“I have the auction tonight, followed by the dinner-dance in a week. Busy doesn’t cover it. Hysterical is closer. In fact, I think hysterical is pretty accurate.”

“So you probably don’t have time to go shopping.”

Pia perked up. “I certainly do. In fact a little retail therapy is exactly what I need. On the way back, I’ll grab a sandwich to eat at my desk and call it lunch.”

Charity smiled. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Mostly I’m doing it for myself, but you can pretend it’s about you if it makes you feel better.” Pia saved her computer program, then closed it, grabbed her purse and stood. “What are we shopping for? Jewelry? Furniture? A vacation in the south of France?”

“Maternity clothes.”

Pia plopped down on her seat, her gaze settling on her friend’s growing tummy. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I need to buy some things, and you’re way better at the stylish thing than I am. I want to look good as I approach my whale days. Or as good as I can. ‘Help me, Obi Wan. You’re my only hope.’”

“Oh, please. Don’t try Star Wars on me. I’m too young to remember anything but the remastered versions, and so are you.”

Charity continued to stare at her, all wide-eyed and pleading.

“Fine,” Pia grumbled, standing again. “I’ll help you buy your stupid maternity clothes.”

“The point of bringing you along is so they’re not stupid. Besides, you might want to get a few things for yourself. It took me a while to pop out of my regular clothes, but I’m not carrying triplets.”

“Thanks for mentioning that.”

“Anytime.”

Pia followed her into the hallway, then locked the door. As they made their way down the stairs, she had to admit that Charity was right…sort of. Lately it had seemed her pants were getting snug, and she would swear her breasts had gone up a full cup size. She was starting to spill out of her bras. In the few weeks between now and looking like a woman who had swallowed a beach ball, she could probably make some great money posing for breast-enhancement ads.

“How are you feeling?” Charity asked. “Any morning sickness?”

“I’m fine as long as I stick to crackers for the first hour. Then I can pretty much eat what I want. Of course, based on the list of things I should be eating, all those fruits and vegetables, the protein and dairy, there’s not much room left for empty calories.” She sighed. “I miss empty calories.”

“Me, too. And coffee. I would kill for a glass of wine.” She glanced at Pia. “Do you think it’s wrong to bring a saucy little Merlot into the recovery room?”

“I think they’d frown on it. Plus, won’t you be breastfeeding?”

They reached the street and turned left. There was an exclusive maternity boutique right next to Jenel’s Gems.

“Breastfeeding is in the plan,” Charity admitted. “Are you?”

“I haven’t gotten that far,” Pia admitted. “I’m one breast short, to begin with, so I’m not sure how it would work. I’m not really doing a lot of reading yet. I have time.”

“Of course you do. It’s nice that you’re not totally obsessed with your pregnancy. The first two months, I couldn’t stop reading about it, or talking about it. I became one of those horrible, self-absorbed friends who only cared about herself.”

“I remember,” Pia said, her voice teasing.

Charity gave her a mock glare. “A true friend wouldn’t mention my slip in judgment.”

“A true friend would have given you a good slap if it had continued much longer.”

Charity laughed.

Pia joined in but was pleased when the conversation changed topic. In truth, the reason she hadn’t started doing a lot of reading about her pregnancy had nothing to do with being calm and everything to do with the fact that she still didn’t feel connected to the babies growing inside of her. They were an intellectual exercise, not an emotional bond. She knew she was pregnant, but those were just words.

In time things would get better, she told herself. From finding out about the embryos to implantation had only been a matter of a few weeks. It made sense that she would need time to catch up emotionally. At least that was the plan.

“Josh keeps saying we have to register.” Charity grimaced. “I’ve gone online where they have those lists of what is ‘essential,’ and it’s enough to freak me out. They talk about things I’ve never heard of. And some other stuff that’s really weird. Do you know there’s a device that keeps baby wipes warm? You drop in a container of wipes and it keeps them toasty. The reviews say not to get it because then the kids scream when you’re away from home and have to use a cold baby wipe.”

Pia felt the first hint of fear. “I have to make a decision about baby wipes? Can’t I just buy what’s on sale?”

“Sure, but then do you heat them? It’s incredible. I swear, if you took along everything that they said, you wouldn’t need a baby bag so much as a camel. And you’ll have three times that amount.”

Pia felt a little light-headed. “We should talk about something else,” she murmured.

“And the diapers. Do you know how many diapers babies go through in an average week?”

“No,” she whispered.

“Eighty to a hundred.”

Charity kept talking, but Pia was too busy doing the math. With triplets, she could be looking at two hundred and forty to three hundred diapers in a week. If she used disposable ones, wouldn’t she be personally responsible for any overflow in the Fool’s Gold landfill?

Three hundred diapers? How many were in a box? Could she fit that many in her car? Was Raoul going to have to buy a semi to bring in supplies?

“That’s pretty.” Charity had stopped in front of the window of the maternity store. A pregnant mannequin wore a sophisticated burgundy pantsuit, with a fly-away-style jacket. The fabric was a high-quality knit that skimmed the body and held its shape but would probably wash like a dream.

“The color would be great for you,” Pia said. “With your light hair.”

“I wonder if the set comes with a skirt. Or I could get a black skirt and a patterned top. That would give me a lot of work outfits.” She glanced at Pia. “Or am I being too matchy-matchy?”

“You’re doing just fine. Let’s go in and see what they have.”

The store was larger than it looked from the outside. There was plenty of light, lots of mirrors and racks of clothes set up by type. In the back, an archway led into a massive separate store that sold everything baby. Pia caught sight of a stroller and crib before carefully averting her eyes. She was here to shop for her friend, not freak herself out. Later, when she could sit down, she would think about all the equipment babies apparently required and try not to hyperventilate. And maybe she would take Denise Hendrix up on her offer to explain what exactly the mother of a triplet needed three of and what she could avoid buying in bulk.

“Hi, ladies,” a salesclerk called. “How are you doing?”

“Great,” Charity said. “I’m browsing first.”

“Let me know if I can help.”

Pia wandered toward the dress racks. Maybe dresses would be easier, as they would give her more breathing room—so to speak. But as it got colder, she preferred pants or nice jeans. Plus, did she really want to deal with maternity tights or nylons?

She crossed over to the jeans and grimaced when she saw a very unattractive elastic kind of band thing stuck in front. Was that what she had to look forward to?

“Look at this,” Charity said, pointing to a mannequin. “It’s a tummy sleeve.” She leaned in and read the sign. “Oh, this is great. It helps with transition. When you’re too big for your regular pants but maternity ones are too big for you. It covers the open zipper.” She grinned. “I wish I’d thought of that. You should get one.”

What Pia should get is out of the store. She wasn’t ready for any of this. Not yet. She was barely pregnant and she still hadn’t accepted she was having one baby, let alone three.

She watched Charity collect several items of clothing, then waited while her friend tried them on.

“You look adorable in everything,” Pia told her.

It was the truth. Charity genuinely glowed. She was pleasantly rounded, blissfully happy and excited about being a mother. Pia felt like a crabby fraud.

“You don’t want to pick out anything?” Charity asked as she paid for her clothing.

Pia shook her head. “I’m not ready.”

“I would guess with triplets, you’re going to have to get ready soon. Is this where I ask you to come with me next door to look at furniture and you refuse?”

“I’ll look.”

Maybe poking around in a baby store would help. If nothing else, she could look for a book on multiple births. The books she had at home only had a chapter or two on multiples.

They walked through to the baby store. There were cribs and changing tables, mobiles and teddy bear lamps.

“Come see,” Charity told her, pointing to the left. “There’s a bedroom set I really love. But it’s pretty girly and if we have a boy, I’m not sure it’s appropriate.”

Pia followed her friend to a display done in pale wood. The small nightstand, crib, dresser and changing table were all carved with fairies and angels, the edges scalloped. Pink-and-gold drawer pulls sparkled with a touch of glitter.

“Too girly doesn’t describe it,” Pia said with a grin. “I think it’s great, but you need to make sure you’re having a girl before you get this.”

“It’s too over the top for a boy?”

“It will give Josh a heart attack, and that’s the last thing you want.”

“I know.” Charity sighed. “I had planned not to know the sex of the baby until the birth. I thought that would be fun. I’ve always been such a planner. This seemed like the ultimate in letting go.”

“Then you’re going to have to let go on the furniture selection,” Pia told her. “This is a whole new dimension of girly.”

“You’re right,” Charity said, sounding reluctant. “What are you going to do?”

Pia turned to her. “About what?”

“Knowing the gender of the babies.”

“I haven’t really thought about it.”

“From what I know about IVF, you’re going to have fraternal rather than identical triplets,” Charity said. “Three embryos mean they fertilized three different eggs. That could make things interesting. Does Raoul want to know?”

They hadn’t talked about it, Pia realized. In fact they hadn’t talked much about the babies at all. She didn’t know anything about his thoughts on children, except he wanted them. What were his hopes and dreams for these babies? Did he spank or prefer time-outs? Would he want to know if they were having boys or girls?

She put her hand on the dresser to steady herself. There was more. They hadn’t talked about financials or their goals for their lives. She didn’t know what religion he was, if he opened his presents Christmas Eve or Christmas morning. They hadn’t even discussed which way to load a dishwasher.

How could she have agreed to marry someone she didn’t know at all? Shouldn’t they have a plan to get to know each other? Of course, she was the same person who had blithely had her friend’s babies implanted into her body without considering the future.

She was going to be the mother of three children. She was going to have to raise them for the next eighteen years. Longer if housing prices kept going up. She could barely take care of herself. There was the whole humiliating relationship failure with Jake, the cat.

“I can’t do this,” she said.

“What’s wrong?” Crystal asked, sounding concerned.

Pia had to get out of there. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

She glanced at her watch. “I have to go. I have…” Her mind went blank, then rebooted and provided her with the perfect excuse. “I have a city council meeting tomorrow. I need to get back to work and prepare.”

“Me, too,” Crystal told her. “We’re talking about the budget, which is a serious drag. Neither of us can have caffeine. How are we supposed to stay awake?”

Pia was amazed. She must still look and sound normal, when on the inside, she was seconds from a meltdown.

Somehow she made it back to her office. But instead of preparing for the meeting, she stood in her tiny bathroom, her arms braced against the sink.

The obvious question was what had she been thinking. But she knew the answer to that. She hadn’t been. She’d been reacting to the loss of a dear friend. And now that she was pregnant, was she doing her very best to be informed? Had she made even one change in her life to support the babies?

Okay, sure she’d given up alcohol and caffeine and she was taking the vitamins and eating lots of fruits and vegetables. But was that enough? She hadn’t known how many diapers a baby needed a day. She didn’t want to look at furniture or maternity clothes. If Crystal really knew what she was like, she would be horrified to know her future children would be in Pia’s custody. Because for the first time ever, the babies were finally real to her and she was terrified.

* * *

THE ENTIRE TOWN TURNED OUT for the auction. Pia stared at the huge crowd and found that being the object of so much male attention was kind of good for her emotionally fragile state.

Since arriving at the convention center, she’d been ogled, had her butt pinched twice and asked out more times than she could count.

There had to be at least three hundred guys milling around the open space and twice that many women. The concession stands were doing a brisk business, which meant plenty of income for the city. All good.

“Hey, pretty lady.”

Pia glanced up from her clipboard and saw a tall, slightly grizzled older man smiling at her. He was missing a couple of teeth and needed a shave.

“You gonna bid on me tonight?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Would that I could,” she said with a heavy sigh. “But I’m pregnant.”

His gaze dropped to her belly and he took a couple of steps back. “I’m not interested in no kids.”

“I hear that a lot.”

The man turned and nearly ran in the opposite direction. Montana hurried up to her.

“This is great. I can’t wait for the talent show. Some guy just felt me up. I should probably be mad, but it’s so strange, it’s almost funny.”

“Give it an hour,” Pia told her. “It’ll get annoying. I’m telling every guy who talks to me that I’m pregnant. It’s very effective.”

Dakota joined them. She had a soda in one hand and popcorn in the other. “The lady with the dancing dog is first up in the talent show. I can’t wait.”

Pia laughed. “This is a serious event, you two. Act accordingly.”

“It’s a woman dancing with her poodle,” Dakota said with a laugh. “I do love this town.”

Pia glanced around at the crowd filling the convention center. Despite the craziness, she loved it, too.

* * *

THE NEXT AFTERNOON, PIA managed to sit through the city council meeting without dozing off. Given her wild night at the auction, that was a serious accomplishment.

The performances had gone off on time, the bachelor auction had been nearly orderly. The more attractive men who claimed to have jobs had gone for the most money, and nothing really embarrassing had happened, which meant the media coverage should be relatively benign.

One crisis endured, forty-seven others waiting in the wings, she thought. At least the activities of last night had kept her from dwelling on her inadequacies as a potential mother.

She was trying and that should count, she told herself. As she got more pregnant, she would bond more with the babies. She promised herself she would read more and figure out what she was supposed to do next.

“We’re hoping revenue from the influx of tourists helps,” the city treasurer was saying.

“By tourists she means men,” Mayor Marsha said with a heavy sigh. “Pia, the auction went very smoothly last night. Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome. I don’t have the money totals yet, but we made a lot. We’re taking costs out of the auction proceeds, and then all the profits go directly to the city.”

“I suppose if we have to be in the middle of this circus, we might as well benefit in some way,” Marsha said. “What’s next?”

Talk turned to budgeting. At one point, Charity tried to stifle a yawn, then caught Pia’s gaze and grinned.

Pia nodded in agreement. Not exactly a topic to keep one up in anticipation. She shifted in her seat, feeling a faint cramping in her stomach. At first she didn’t think anything about it. She listened to the latest information on the cause of the fire at the school and the projections for repair costs.

The cramps increased. She frowned as she tried to remember if her period was due. Usually she noted that on her calendar so she could be prepared with…

Dread swept through her. She wasn’t going to get her period. She was pregnant. She shouldn’t be cramping. Not like this.

“Oh, God,” she breathed, terrified to move, not sure what to do.

Everyone turned to look at her. Another cramp hit her. This one was horrifyingly worse.

Then she felt it. A rush of something liquid. Involuntarily she stood and looked down. Blood pooled in the seat.

Pia began to scream.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

PIA GULPED FOR AIR. Even as she gasped, she choked on a sob. Despite the nurse’s insistence that she had to calm down, she couldn’t stop crying.

The nurse held on to Pia’s hand. “Honey, is there someone I can call? Do you want me to get your mom?”

The irony of the question only made Pia cry harder. Marsha would have phoned Raoul already, and he would get here as quickly as he could. There was no one else.

“I’m fine,” Pia managed.

“You’ve got to quiet down. This isn’t good for you or the babies.”

Babies. Because there were two left. At least that’s what the ultrasound had shown. Only one had been lost.

Pia did her best to slow her breathing. Getting upset only made things worse. She knew that, but she couldn’t seem to control herself. Not when she knew she was to blame.

“Where is she?” a male voice asked from the hallway. “Pia O’Brian. She’s my fiancée.”

“Raoul!”

The nurse left her side and hurried to the open door. “In here.”

Raoul rushed in and raced to her side. “Pia.” He bent over her and took her hand in his, then kissed her forehead. “Are you all right?”

The worry and concern had her crying again. But instead of backing away, he leaned close and wrapped his arms around her.

She cried and cried until she felt empty inside. Until there was no way to find relief.

“I lost one of the babies,” she said, the words hoarse in her swollen throat.

“I know.” He smoothed her hair. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not. It’s not okay. I’m the reason. It’s my fault.” She felt her eyes fill again. Grabbing his hand with both of hers, she stared into his eyes. “It’s my fault. I did this. They were never real to me. I didn’t want to tell you, but they weren’t. I knew in my head I was pregnant, but I didn’t feel it. I wasn’t maternal. The baby knew. It knew and now it’s gone.”

“Pia, no. That’s not what happens.”

“It is. I did it. I was out with Charity yesterday. She wanted to look at maternity clothes and I didn’t. I didn’t want to think about how big I’m going to get, or what’s going to happen to my body. Then I freaked out about the furniture. I didn’t even know how many diapers a baby uses in a week.”

The tears flowed again, trickling down her cheeks. “Crystal trusted me. She trusted me and one of her babies is gone and I can’t fix it. I can’t make it better. I loved her and she believed in me and look what I’ve done.”

Raoul shook his head. He looked uncomfortable and helpless. “Sometimes babies don’t make it.”

She raised her bed a little, so she could see him more easily. “There’s more. I’m the reason.” She swallowed, knowing she had to tell him the truth, even if it meant he would walk away from her forever.

Maybe that would be for the best, she thought, feeling sick to her stomach. Then when the babies were born, he could have child protective services take them from her so she wouldn’t damage them further.

“I got pregnant when I was in college.”

* * *

RAOUL DIDN’T WANT TO HEAR anything more. He knew where the story was going, what she was going to say. Anger grew. He pulled his hand back.

Pia was talking. He forced himself to listen, to pretend he wasn’t judging.

“I knew he wouldn’t marry me, and I started…” She gasped for breath. “I started wishing the baby would go away. That’s what I thought in my head. How everything would be better if it just went away.”

She closed her eyes. The tears continued to flow, but they no longer touched him.

“Then it did,” she whispered.

“It didn’t go away,” he said harshly. “You did something.”

She nodded. “I know. The baby knew or sensed and then it was gone. Dr. Galloway said I can’t take responsibility. That not every baby starts out right and when they don’t, nature takes care of things. That’s the medical explanation. The baby wasn’t right. But it wasn’t the baby, it was me.”

He stared at her, confused by what she was saying. “You didn’t have an abortion?”

“What?” Her eyes opened. “No. Of course not. I was figuring I’d give the baby up for adoption. I even had a few brochures. But it was gone, just like today. That’s what I kept thinking. That I was being punished for not wanting that first baby. So I don’t get to have these.”

His anger and sense of betrayal faded as if they’d never been. Shame replaced them—for thinking the worst of Pia. She was nothing like Caro. He already knew that.

He returned to the bed, grateful she hadn’t noticed his retreat, and pulled her close again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, apologizing for his mistake.

“You didn’t do anything.”

He would tell her later, he thought. When she was better.

“Neither did you,” he told her. “You’re not being punished.”

“You can’t know that.”

He looked into her eyes. “Yes, I can.”

“I lost one of Crystal’s babies.”

“No,” he said quietly, for the first time understanding exactly what had happened. “We lost one of ours.”

Twins, he thought sadly. Twins, not triplets.

Her eyes widened. More tears came. “You’re right,” she said on a sob. “Oh, God. Make it come back.”

A prayer that would never be answered, he thought sadly as he held her.

They hung on to each other for a long time. When she seemed to have calmed down a little, he sat next to her on the bed and stroked her face.

“I look terrible,” she said. “Puffy and swollen and miserable.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“You’re either a liar or you need your eyes checked.”

He gave her a smile, then let it fade. After kissing her mouth, he said, “Don’t for one minute think it’s your fault. It’s not. It can’t be. Blame comes with a deliberate action.”

He paused, then decided it was time. “You know that I was married before. Caro was a former beauty queen turned local news anchor. We met at a charity function in Dallas.”

Pia leaned back against her pillows. “Is it okay to hate her?”

“Sure.”

“Good. Because I do.”

At one time he had hated her more. But time had healed him. He would never understand, but he’d ceased wanting her punished.

“We were the perfect couple,” he continued. “Shortly after we got engaged, she was offered a job with a national affiliate in Los Angeles. Her career was important to her, so we moved to L.A. and during the season, I commuted.”

“That sounds very civilized.”

“It was. We talked about starting a family. We both wanted kids. One day I got a call that Caro was in the hospital. I came as fast as I could. I didn’t understand what was wrong and she didn’t want them to tell me.”

He could remember everything about that moment. Standing in the hallway, staring at a doctor who wouldn’t tell him what was wrong with his wife.

“I don’t understand,” Pia said. “The doctor wouldn’t tell you?”

“Not without her permission. I went into her room. She was pale. There were a couple of IVs and blood. I remember seeing the blood dripping into her.”

That had scared him the most. The thought that she might die.

He looked at Pia. “She’d had an abortion that afternoon and something had gone wrong. She’d been bleeding internally. She had surgery and was fine. That’s what she said. ‘I’m fine.’”

He shook his head. “I didn’t even know she was pregnant. She hadn’t told me. She said she wanted kids one day but not right then. Not when her career was going so well.” He turned away. “If she hadn’t ended up in the hospital, I never would have known. She made the decision without me. While I believe a woman has a right to choose, this was different. We were married. We were trying to have a kid—actively trying to get pregnant right then so I could be with her when it was born during the off-season. But it was all a lie.”

Pia’s breath caught. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. That Raoul’s wife had betrayed him, betrayed them that way. It was one thing to put off having kids, or to discuss an unexpected pregnancy, but to pretend to be trying for a baby, then abort it when it happened was inexcusable.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know that’s a stupid thing to say, but I’m sorry.”

He turned back to her. She saw the hurt in his eyes and the loss.

“I’m sorry, too.”

They stared at each other, sharing their pain. Despite their practical arrangement, she’d never felt closer to him. More connected.

There was a short knock on the door. They both turned and saw Dr. Galloway walk in.

“Pia, my dear,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too.”

The doctor shook hands with Raoul, then moved to her side. “From what we can tell, the other two babies are hanging on just fine. They’re growing and look healthy.”

“You’re saying don’t give up hope.”

The older woman patted her shoulder. “I’m saying don’t beat yourself up about this. I want you to try to relax. You’ll stay here tonight and we’ll do another ultrasound in the morning. I expect everything will be fine and you’ll go home. There’s no reason for us to believe you’ll have any other problems, but we’ll take precautions, just to be sure.”

Pia nodded.

“I’m going to have the kitchen send up some dinner. I want you to eat. Do you promise?”

“Yes.”

“I’m staying,” Raoul said firmly. “I’ll make sure she eats.”

“I suspect you will,” the doctor said cheerfully. “All right, Pia. Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Dr. Galloway’s mouth straightened. “No blaming yourself for this, hear me?”

“I’ll try.”

When the doctor left, Raoul moved to her side again.

“We’ll get through this,” he promised.

“I know.”

Having him here helped, she thought, relaxing back against the pillows. He was someone she could depend on, and right now that seemed like the best thing of all.

* * *

PIA STRETCHED OUT ON the sofa and tried to get comfortable. It wasn’t that she was hurting, she just felt weird inside. Unsettled. Afraid. Unworthy. Not exactly emotions designed to make her day restful.

She’d come home from the hospital that morning. It had taken a while to convince Raoul that it was perfectly safe to leave her for a few hours. Actually, it hadn’t been her words that had done the trick—instead it had been the steady stream of visitors, showing up with flowers, cards, food and baby gifts for the remaining twins. When he’d figured out she was unlikely to be alone for more than a few minutes at a time, he’d agreed to head out to check in at his office.

Now she breathed a sigh of relief at the silence and hoped it would be hours until she next heard a knock on the door. It was a whole lot easier to feel sorry for herself and guilty when she was alone.

The second ultrasound had shown the two remaining babies were doing very well. They seemed unaffected by what had happened to their sibling. One of her visitors— Nina, the nurse from the hospital—had brought over a chicken casserole and had explained about vanishing twins. That it wasn’t uncommon to lose one baby during gestation.

Pia appreciated the attempts to make her feel better, but right now she felt mired in guilt and depression. It was possible that in time she would feel better, but she couldn’t imagine that ever happening.

There was a knock on her front door.

“Come in,” she called, hoping she sounded at least slightly enthusiastic.

Denise Hendrix pushed open the door and walked into Pia’s living room.

“Hi,” she said, smiling gently. “How are you feeling?”

Pia shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Sad.”

“Sure you are. You’re going to be for a while.” Denise held up the grocery bag she had. “Ice cream. Nearly every Ben & Jerry’s flavor. Think of it as your dairy. I’ll go put it in the freezer.”

She returned in a few minutes. Instead of sitting in the chair opposite the sofa where Pia lay, Denise sat on the coffee table and leaned close.

“You look miserable,” she said flatly. “Like you lost your best friend.”

“Or killed her baby,” Pia murmured, then shook her head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say it out loud.”

“You didn’t kill Crystal’s baby.”

“It feels like it. They weren’t real to me, Denise. I was going through the motions.”

“So? Why isn’t that enough? You’re growing children inside of you, not providing a spiritual education. Right now your only job is to take care of yourself and them to the best of your ability.” She sighed. “I raised six kids. Do you think I was fully present every second of every day? Do you think I liked it when the boys were fighting and the girls had colic? That I didn’t wish myself away to some tropical island with nothing more than a quiet room to sleep in and a good book to read?”

Pia blinked at her. “But you’re a great mom.”

“Thank you. I loved my kids and tried my best, but I wasn’t perfect. No one is. And if the babies you had implanted aren’t real to you, so what? You’ll get there. It’s not as if you’ve violated the universal pregnancy time line. This is a huge change in your life, Pia. You’ve given up so many things to honor your friend’s request. I liked Crystal a lot, but I have to tell you, there’s a part of me that thinks she had no right to do this to you.”

Pia felt her eyes widen. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t just leave someone embryos without talking to them first. It’s wrong. She should have talked to you, made sure this was what you wanted, too. She was asking a hell of a lot, and she didn’t give you the chance to say no.”

Pia hadn’t thought about it that way. “I could have walked away.”

“Walking away was a possibility, yes, but not for you. That’s not who you are. We all see it in how you are with this town. You get the details right, you do the work. And anyone who knows you personally, knows that you’ve been hurt by the people who were supposed to protect you. And that you would never do that to anyone else. You don’t need to worry about connecting with the babies you’re carrying. It will happen. The reason you’re sad is you’ve lost one of your children, as well. If this was just about Crystal, you’d only feel guilty.”

Pia turned the other woman’s words over in her mind. “You’re right,” she said slowly. “If I didn’t care, I guess I’d secretly be relieved. Two babies is going to be a lot easier than three. But I can’t get away from the sense of loss. And letting Crystal down.”

“This isn’t about your emotions. An embryo could have been lost at any point in the process. It’s a miracle all three of them got this far. Do you know how unlikely it was for you to get pregnant at all? You’ve done great.”

“Thanks.”

Somehow Denise had cut to the heart of the problem. In a way, exposing the issue to the light made Pia feel better.

“I worry that I won’t do a good job,” she admitted. “I’m not ready to buy maternity clothes or look at baby furniture.”

“Most women get married, then plan having a baby. This was thrust upon you without warning. You need time to catch up. As for maternity clothes, trust me, it won’t be long until you don’t have a choice.” She smiled. “The baby-furniture issue will take care of itself. Pretty soon you’ll have freakish hormones coursing through your body. You’ll be biologically compelled to nest. But until that happens, don’t sweat it. You’re being too hard on yourself.”

“I’ll try to do better.”

“I hope so. You’re going to be a great mother. You already are. If you need anything, you know we’ll all be there for you. This whole town loves you.”

The two women hugged. As Denise straightened, Pia heard footsteps on the stairs. Seconds later, Raoul entered the apartment.

He’d brought a small duffel with him. More clothes, she thought.

“Denise,” he said. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“I had to see our girl. She’s doing better.”

Raoul glanced at her anxiously. “I hope so.” He hesitated, then said, “I’m trying to convince her to move in with me, at least temporarily. My house is all one level.”

Pia rolled her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You can’t take the stairs.”

There was a difference between can’t and don’t want to, Pia thought. Although she was supposed to take it easy for the next few days, after that, there weren’t any restrictions. Which might be medically sound, but emotionally, the thought of taking stairs made her beyond nervous.

Denise glanced between them. “Pia, it might be a good idea. You’d be more relaxed if you didn’t have to worry about stairs. It’s only for a week or so, then you can move back.” She raised her eyebrows. “Although I’m not sure how long you’re going to want to climb those three flights as your pregnancy progresses.”

Raoul looked both pleading and smug. “See.”

It might be the practical solution, but Pia didn’t like it. Moving in with Raoul said something about their relationship. Or maybe it simply made things more real. Not that she’d been able to ignore the very large engagement ring on her left hand.

“I’ll think about it,” she promised. It was the best she could do.

Denise hugged her again. As she was bent over, she whispered, “He’s very handsome and doting. There are worse traits in a man.”

“I know. Thanks for coming by and talking to me.”

Denise kissed her forehead. “Anytime.” She straightened. “Take care of her. She’s precious to all of us.”

“I will,” Raoul told her, then walked her to the door.

They spoke for a few seconds. Pia couldn’t hear what they were saying, which was probably the point. She leaned back against the sofa and closed her eyes. Despite being exhausted, she couldn’t seem to fall asleep. Every time she tried, she flashed back to the sight of the blood on the chair and felt the same terror flooding her. Not exactly a sequence designed to get her to nod off.

Instead she thought about what Denise had told her. Denise’s observation that it was amazing that the babies had gotten this far was the most help. Maybe it was okay that she hadn’t totally absorbed the idea of being pregnant. Maybe all that would change with time.

She opened her eyes and saw Raoul close the door. He glanced back at her.

“Why don’t you try to rest,” he suggested.

She nodded because it was easier than admitting she couldn’t sleep. She closed her eyes and tried to think about nothing at all. That seemed safest.

But she found herself remembering his story about his first wife. How Caro had betrayed him. There was no excuse for what she’d done. Pia couldn’t imagine lying to the one person you were supposed to love more than anyone. Not like that. If she hadn’t wanted to have children, she should have told him and gone on the Pill or something.

But the most difficult part of what he’d told her had been the realization that he’d loved Caro. The truth had been in the way he’d spoken about her, in the emotion in his eyes. He’d met her, dated her, fallen in love with her and proposed. Just like it was supposed to be.

She wasn’t going to get that. She wasn’t going to have the kind of love Hawk and Nicole shared, or that Denise had had with her late husband. There might be respect and a growing affection, there might be a shared goal of raising the twins and perhaps having more children, but there wasn’t a heart-pounding, hair-raising, oh-my-God kind of falling in love.

The knowledge hurt more than she would have expected. It made her want to curl up and give in to tears. Some for what she’d lost, but also for the realization of how much she’d wanted that in her life. She’d wanted her happy ending.

With Raoul.

She sat up straight and opened her eyes. After checking to make sure he wasn’t in the room, she turned the thought over in her mind. With Raoul? As in… What? She was falling for him?

A dangerous place to go, she told herself. It was insane to fall for a guy who’d made it clear he didn’t want his heart to get involved.

She reminded herself she’d always been practical. This was completely the wrong time to be thinking with her heart.

* * *

“MY HANDS STILL SMELL FUNNY,” Peter said with a laugh, holding one up for her to inspect. “And I washed ’em like five times.”

“Garlic’s tricky that way,” Pia told him, enjoying having the boy to talk to. It was difficult to stay depressed in the presence of a happy ten-year-old.

“Raoul said a bad word when he dropped the spaghetti in the boiling water,” Peter said in a whisper. “It was funny.”

“I’m sure it was.”

Despite her misgivings about moving in with Raoul, practicality and her fear of stairs had won. He’d packed up her stuff and carried her down two flights of stairs—a testament to his workout commitment. Now she was settled in his guest room.

He’d called Peter’s foster parents and asked if the boy could join them for dinner. Pia appreciated having someone else there that first night. It made her feel less weird about being in Raoul’s house.

He appeared in the doorway, a dish towel over his shoulder. “I drain the meat before putting in the sauce, right?”

“Yes. But don’t put the grease down the drain.”

“Cooking is complicated.”

She laughed. “I told you not to start with making spaghetti. You could have heated up one of the casseroles. That would have been easier.”

“But I love a good challenge.”

“Typical man.”

He chuckled and left.

Peter sat down next to her on the sofa. “Raoul said you were sick and you have to be careful.” He held out his arm which now sported a green cast. “Is it like my arm?”

“A little like that. You still have to be careful about not getting it wet, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“But it will get better.”

“Like you?” Peter asked, leaning against her.

She put her arm around him. “Like me,” she said, and hoped she was telling the truth.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

LIZ STRETCHED OUT ON THE other sofa in Raoul’s living room. “Seriously,” she said. “You have to be bored.”

“I’m getting there,” Pia admitted. This was day four and her last day of resting. “I keep thinking about everything that has to be done and how behind I’m going to be.”

Liz winced. “Yes, well, about that. Montana organized a work party.”

Pia straightened. “Do not tell me she let people into my office.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“Are you kidding? They were touching my files?”

Liz laughed. “It’s not like they were feeling up your underwear drawer. It’s just files.”

Pia groaned. “They’re my files. I have a system. What if they messed it up?”

“What if they were just trying to help because they care about you?”

“Helping is nice,” Pia said. “But not if it makes more work for me.”

“Someone needs her attitude adjusted. You should be grateful we all care about you. This town takes care of its own.”

Pia narrowed her gaze. “You weren’t so happy with all the meddling when you first moved back to town. If I remember correctly, you wanted to leave and never come back.”

“That was different.”

“Why?”

“It was happening to me.”

Pia relaxed back on the sofa and laughed. “Typical. We’re all so self-absorbed.”

“Speak for yourself.” Liz’s humor faded. “How are you doing?”

“No. I’m tired of talking about myself. How are you doing? How is life with three kids and a fiancé?”

“You forgot the puppy,” Liz said. “Ethan’s bright idea, although I get the blame. I allowed a vote. Of course everyone wanted the puppy but me and now in addition to everything else, I’m potty training a very energetic Labradoodle named—wait for it—Newman.”

Pia giggled. “Newman?”

“Can you believe it?”

At the beginning of summer, Liz had discovered she had two nieces she hadn’t known about. The oldest, a fourteen-year-old, had contacted her through Liz’s Web site, admitting their father was in prison and their stepmother had taken off, leaving them on their own. Liz had packed up her son and her computer and driven to Fool’s Gold to rescue the girls.

The difficult situation had been complicated by the fact that Ethan, the oldest of the Hendrix children, had been the father of Liz’s ten-year-old son. Through a series of miscommunications, Liz thought he knew about Tyler, but he hadn’t been told. After a very rocky few months, they’d realized they were still madly in love. Now Ethan was building them a house, they were engaged and Liz had custody of her two nieces. And Newman.

“Don’t you have to go on a book tour soon?” Pia asked.

Liz was a bestselling mystery author.

“Next week,” Liz said with a sigh. “Denise is moving in for the duration. I’ve warned her it’s not going to be the big party she’s expecting. The good news is Newman is about ninety percent on knowing where to pee.”

“Meaning not in the house?”

“Exactly. I finally have a chore list for the kids that seems workable, and everyone is doing their own laundry. It means that Tyler sometimes has pink socks, but he’s learning to deal with that.” Liz shook her head. “I’m normally gone about three weeks, but under the circumstances my publisher very graciously agreed that ten days was better. Honestly, I’m looking forward to being alone in a hotel room. No loud music or TV, no fighting over the Wii control, no yells asking what time is dinner.”

“No Ethan.”

“That’s the downside, but I’ll survive. Actually, he’s a big help with the kids. The girls adore him. He’s helping Abby with her pitching. There’s a softball team in middle school and she wants to get on it.”

“You’ve settled in to living here. For a while I didn’t think that was going to happen.”

“Me, either,” Liz admitted. “It was tough at first, because of my past, but eventually the town and I made peace with each other.”

Pia studied her friend. She considered it a sign of her good character that she didn’t mind that Liz was beautiful, with shiny red hair and a perfect body.

“You look happy,” Pia said.

“I am. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but how are you doing?”

“Better. I’m sleeping. I’m desperately bored, which is probably a good sign. Now that I know people are mucking around in my office, I’m even more anxious to get back.” She lightly touched her stomach. “It’s hard not to be scared about the two little ones still in there.”

“Not surprising. When’s your next doctor’s visit?”

“In a couple of days. I want her to tell me everything is going to be all right, and I know she can’t make that promise.”

“She can get close,” Liz told her.

“I hope so. Right now I feel as if everything I do puts the babies at risk. Once they’re born, I’ll be able to relax.”

Liz raised her eyebrows. “Sorry to disillusion you, but no. In some ways it will be better, but in others, it will be worse. Every stage brings new joys and new traumas. It’s amazing that any of us ever have kids, given all that can go wrong.”

“The need to procreate burns hot and bright.”

“Apparently. In the end, it’s worth it though. You’ll love those babies in a way you’ve never loved before. It’s magical and you’ll be so grateful to have them.”

“I look forward to that,” Pia admitted. “Losing one has brought me closer to the others. I’m thinking of them as tiny, little people inside of me. I want to see what they’re going to look like and hold them and keep them safe.”

“Look at you. A few weeks ago, you didn’t know why Crystal had left the embryos to you. Are you still asking yourself that question?”

“Less than I was.”

“So we’re both happy,” Liz said. “Which is the way it’s supposed to be. Have you and Raoul set a date for the wedding?”

“No.” Despite his proposal and the very impressive ring she wore, she couldn’t imagine getting married. Visualizing the ceremony was beyond her. “One crisis at a time.”

“Ethan and I are thinking of doing something quiet over the Christmas holidays. Just friends and family. I told him the pressure is on, because I’m not marrying him until the house is finished. There’s no way I’m starting my married life in the house where I grew up.”

Pia understood. Liz had never known her father, and her mother had been distant and an alcoholic. Men had come and gone with a frequency that had led many people to believe that Liz’s mother was in it more for the money than the relationship. Liz had been emotionally and physically neglected, and sometimes there had been unexplained bruises.

“So Ethan is a motivated guy,” Pia teased. “That’s very smart of you.”

“It’s more desperation than intelligence. I keep telling myself that the house is great. It’s all fixed up and there aren’t any ghosts, but I’m looking forward to moving out.”

Pia leaned back against the sofa. “When did you realize you’d fallen back in love with him?”

“It was more finding out I’d never stopped loving him. That was a shock,” Liz admitted. “Time and distance had done nothing to kill my feelings. I guess it’s sometimes like that. People can love for a lifetime. Why?”

“Just curious.” She held up a hand. “Don’t read more than that into the conversation.”

“You’re not falling for Raoul?” Liz asked cautiously.

“I don’t think so.” Pia told herself it wasn’t a lie—she hadn’t decided yet.

“If you are, maybe it’s not a bad thing.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re you and he’d be a fool not to love you back.”

Pia sighed. “If only,” she whispered.

* * *

DR. GALLOWAY HELPED PIA into a sitting position, then settled on her stool.

“You’re fine,” the doctor told her. “Everything looks just as it’s supposed to. Both babies are growing very well. Developmentally, they are on target. Your blood work is good, you’re healthy.”

Pia allowed herself to relax a little. “So they’re going to be fine?”

“Sometimes babies don’t make it, Pia, and we can’t know why. Nature has her own way of solving problems. Although they check the embryos before implantation, science is not perfect. But there is no reason to think you’ll have a difficult time from here on. Have you resumed your regular life?”

“Except for stairs. They scare me.”

“They are exercise and exercise is good. I’m not saying this is the time to take up a new sport, but do what you did before. Walk, talk, laugh, take the stairs.”

Pia drew in a deep breath. “All right. I will.”

“Good. Keep stress to a minimum, as much as you can. Get plenty of rest and enjoy that handsome man of yours.” Dr. Galloway’s expression turned stern. “Are you having sex with him?”

“What?” Pia felt herself blush. “No. Of course not.”

“Probably best for the first few days, but now, it’s fine.”

Pia couldn’t imagine ever doing that again. “Even with the babies in there?”

“It’s not like they know what’s happening. Nor can they see what you’re doing. For them, it’s a gentle ride and when Mom has an orgasm, then it’s even more fun.”

Babies and sex didn’t go together in Pia’s mind. Besides, she was confused about her feelings for Raoul. Making love at this point would only complicate an already difficult situation.

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

“I want more than thinking,” the doctor told her with a grin. “I want doing.” She rose. “Be happy, Pia. All is well.”

“Thank you.”

She waited until Dr. Galloway left before standing and reaching for her clothes.

The babies were okay. That was the main thing. Knowing that, she would try to relax. To, as Dr. Galloway had said, live her life.

One month down and only eight to go, she thought, wishing there was a way to hurry along the pregnancy. Or maybe not, she told herself, remembering the eighty-to-a-hundred-diapers-a-week statistic. Maybe it was better to let things happen in their own time.

* * *

“IT’S MY JOB,” PIA SAID, wondering if she hit Raoul with something really, really hard, she could make him understand. Or knock him unconscious, which would allow her to do her job. At this point, either worked for her.

“You can’t spend the day on your feet.”

“I won’t. I have chairs set up all over the park, and several people who are going to make sure I sit.” Despite Dr. Galloway’s all clear, she wasn’t willing to take any risks. “I’ll be fine.”

He moved close and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I worry about you.”

“I worry about me, too, but I have a job that I love and I need to get to it.”

He held her a second longer, his dark eyes gazing into hers.

In truth, she didn’t want to move just yet. She loved being in his arms, feeling his body against hers. There was something so right about them being together. But there was a time and place for the mushy stuff, and this wasn’t it.

She stepped back. “I have to get going.”

“I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yes, you will.”

She grabbed her purse and left. On the way to the park, she found herself thinking about Raoul instead of the impending event. Not a good thing. Thinking about him was dangerous to her heart. Work was safe.

She walked the few blocks to the park and found the setup had been completed in the early hours of the morning. Booths lined the walkway and vendors were already putting out their goods. The smell of barbecue mingled with the sweet scent of melting caramel.

The Fall Festival was one of her favorites. Sure the days were getting shorter and the first snow was right around the corner, but she loved the changing colors, the promised quiet of winter, the scent of a wood fire.

Each festival had its own personality. This one was going to be a little different because of all the men in town. She’d added extra games to keep them happy and a second beer vendor. To counteract the latter, there were also extra police on patrol.

A heavyset man in a Fool’s Gold safety vest walked up to her. “Pia, we’re five portable toilets short. The guy’s lost.”

“Not for long,” Pia said. “Have someone get his cell number, then call him and talk him in. We need the extra bathrooms.”

An electrician needed to be dispatched to fix a faulty outlet, the shift in the wind meant smoke from the meat smoker was choking the jewelry vendors and someone had forgotten to put up the no-parking cones to reserve spots for the fire truck.

Pia handled each crisis quickly and easily, as she had for years. She turned to take a quick tour, only to find Denise Hendrix walking toward her, a folding chair under one arm.

“I have the first shift,” Denise said cheerfully. “It is now eight-thirty. You are to sit until nine.”

“But I have to go check on the setup.”

“No, you don’t. And you’re not going to.” Denise batted her eyelashes. “Don’t make me use my bad-mom voice, because you won’t like it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Pia said meekly and sank onto the chair.

Denise saw Montana and waved her over.

“Hi, Mom,” Montana said, then grinned at Pia. “I have the eleven-thirty-to-twelve shift and then I’m on again this afternoon. Bossing you around is fun.”

“Gee, thanks.” She was being forced to sit for thirty minutes of every hour. “Can you go talk to the vendors and make sure they have everything they need? Also, there’s water for them in the back of Jo’s pickup. Find her and make sure it’s put somewhere the vendors can find. And if you see a guy driving around with portable toilets on the back of a truck, let me know.”

Montana stared at her. “You expect me to do all that?”

Pia flashed her clipboard. “That’s not even all of page one.”

“Jeez, I wouldn’t want your job,” Montana grumbled. “Mom, if you see Nevada, tell her to come help me.”

“Of course, dear.”

Montana left.

“Impressive,” Denise told Pia. “You’re resting and getting your work done.”

“I’m an expert multitasker.”

Denise stared after her daughter. “Montana seems excited about her new job.”

“She does. I admire her—she gives her all to whatever she does.”

“I know she’s worried about finding the right kind of work. Not that she won’t but that it’s taking too long. I keep telling her that everyone finds his or her own path in his or her own time, but she won’t listen. One of the thrills of being a mother.” Denise smiled. “Wait until your little ones are teenagers.”

“At this point I simply want them to be bigger than a rice grain.”

“That will happen, too.”

The sound of a large truck caused them both to turn. Denise shaded her eyes with her hand, then turned to Pia.

“That’s interesting. Were you expecting elephants?”

* * *

RAOUL WALKED WITH PETER through the crowded park. Fool’s Gold was holding yet another of its many festivals. Knowing Pia was going to be working, he’d arranged to take Peter for the afternoon. The Folios didn’t seem to mind him spending time with the kid, which was good. While the couple seemed pleasant enough, Raoul was still concerned about their caretaking abilities.

He and Peter had already checked on Pia, who was being confined to a lawn chair until the top of the hour. She swore she wasn’t the least bit tired and that she’d never had so many assistants or done so little work at any festival.

“Want to get ice cream?” he asked, pointing to a stand.

“Sure!”

Peter led the way. They both got two scoops, then went over to a bench.

“This is so cool,” Peter said between licks. “I like how there are different festivals at different times of the year. It’s really fun. My parents used to bring me all the time.”

“You grew up in Fool’s Gold?”

“Sort of. My dad worked at one of the wineries and we lived out of town. But I went to school here.” His smile faded. “After they died, I was in a group home for a while. I didn’t like that. It was really hard because the other kids made fun of me when I cried.”

Raoul felt his pain. “It’s okay to feel stuff and be sad.”

“Boys don’t cry.”

“Plenty of boys cry.” Raoul hesitated, knowing there was a fine line between saying what was healthy and the reality of being tortured by peers. “Losing your parents is a big deal.”

“I know.” Peter licked his cone. “I still miss them.”

“That’s good. You loved them. You’re supposed to miss people you love.”

“Mrs. Dawson says they’re watching me from heaven, but I don’t know if that’s true.”

“Every time you remember them, you know how much they loved you. That’s what’s important.”

Peter took a few more licks, then held up his cast. “I get this off in a couple of weeks. The doctor says I’m healing really fast.”

The advantage of youth, Raoul thought, remembering feeling like roadkill the morning after his last few games. There was nothing like being trampled by a few three-hundred-pound guys to make a man feel humble.

“Wait until you see your arm,” Raoul told him. “It’s going to look weird from being in the cast.”

“Cool! I wish I could see it now.” He raised his arm and turned it back and forth, as if trying to see inside the cast. Then he turned to Raoul. “You know there’s a school carnival next week, right? We’re gonna have games and stuff. It won’t be as big as this, but it will still be fun.”

While the boy went on about the different events at the school, Raoul was aware of three women standing on the path a few feet away. He’d never seen them before, so he guessed they were tourists, in town for the festival, or possibly the influx of men. They were in their midthirties, talking to each other and pointing at him. The tall brunette raised her camera and took a picture.

When they realized he’d noticed them, the smaller blonde waved and walked over.

“You’re Raoul Moreno, aren’t you?” she said, her voice high and excited. “I recognized you right away. Oh my God! I can’t believe it. You are just as good-looking in person. This is really exciting. We came here when we heard about all the men. There was an auction and everything. Too bad you weren’t in it. You would have gotten a lot of money.”

Her friends joined her.

Raoul tossed his ice cream and rose. Normally this sort of thing didn’t bother him, but it had been months since anyone had approached him as a fan. Living in Fool’s Gold where everyone treated him normally had spoiled him for the real world. Right now he wanted to spend the day with Peter—not deal with three women who probably weren’t going to be satisfied with a picture.

“Is that your son?” the taller blonde asked.

“He doesn’t have children,” the brunette said scornfully. “Are you in one of those charity programs? Is he disadvantaged? Look at his poor broken arm.”

Raoul stepped between the women and Peter. “That’s enough. Take your pictures and then move on.”

The petite blonde stepped closer. “This is a free country. We don’t have to do anything. We can spend the whole day just following you around.”

“I don’t think so.”

The firm words came from behind him. He turned and saw Bella Gionni walking up. With her were Denise Hendrix and a few women he didn’t recognize. They looked serious.

“Morning, ladies,” Denise said pleasantly. “How can we help you?”

“You can’t,” the brunette said. “This is a private conversation.”

“You can say anything in front of us.” Bella moved between him and Peter. She put her hand on the boy’s shoulder, then slipped her arm around his. “We’re close.”

Her friends took up places around him and Peter.

The younger women looked at each other and frowned.

“What’s going on?” the taller blonde asked.

“You’re welcome to say hello to Raoul and even take his picture, but that’s as far as it goes. You don’t follow him or disturb him in any way. Nor do you get to talk to Peter.” She smiled at the boy. “Girls,” she said in a mock whisper.

He was wide-eyed, more interested than scared. “I know,” he whispered back.

Raoul was as startled by the rescue as by the potential stalkers. While he appreciated the concern, his pride didn’t welcome the idea of being protected by a half dozen women in their forties and fifties.

Not that he was willing to take them on either. Ego be damned—for now he was keeping his mouth shut.

The three women turned their attention to him. “Are you serious? You’re going to let them tell us what to do?”

He gave them his best grin. The one he wore in all his publicity pictures. “Absolutely.”

“This town is stupid,” the petite blonde said. “We should leave. I don’t know why we thought we could have a good time here.”

“Us, either,” Bella told her. “Drive safe, ladies.”

The brunette flipped her off.

Bella only smiled. “Looks like you need a manicure, missy. Chipped polish is so cheap. Just like you.”

The three stomped off.

Raoul watched them go, then looked at his posse. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Bella told him. “I’m sure you could have dealt with them yourself, but why waste time on trash?”

“If I was ten years older,” he began.

Bella patted his shoulder. “Sorry, but no. If you were ten years older, I’d wear you out and then you’d die of a heart attack. So let’s not go there.”

Denise moved up to him and kissed his cheek. “Admit it. You’re secretly humiliated.”

“Some.”

“Then our work here is complete.” She glanced at Peter. “Do you mind if I borrow this handsome young man? There are bumper cars set up across the park and I do love a good bumper car. My kids are all too old. I’ll return him right after that.”

“Sure. If it’s okay with you, Peter.”

“Sure.”

Peter took Denise’s outstretched hand and went off, still licking his ice cream. Raoul thanked the other women, then waited until they’d left before making his way to where Pia held court from her lawn chair.

“Talk to the peanut guy,” she was saying. “He always packs up early. Like he’s going to beat the traffic. Tell him if he does that this time, he’s not coming back. Remind him I can get fifty peanut vendors to replace him with just a phone call.”

She smiled at Raoul. “Hi. Where’s Peter?”

“Riding bumper cars with Denise.” He sank down on the grass next to her chair. “I was just rescued by middle-aged women.”

“What are you talking about?”

He told her about the women who had stopped by and how Bella, Denise and their friends had taken care of the situation.

“That’s sweet,” she said, amusement dancing in her eyes. “The big bad football player rescued by older women.”

He winced. “This isn’t good. I’m capable of taking care of myself. But I just stood there and let them do all the talking.”

“Did you think they would allow it to happen any other way? You’re one of us now. We take care of our own. It’s just like the food everyone brought over after I lost the baby.”

“It’s nothing like that.”

“Don’t freak. It’s adorable.”

He wasn’t amused. “You can’t tell my friends.”

“What will you give me if I don’t?”

“Anything.”

She laughed.

He enjoyed the sound, and looking at her. She was lovely, with her large eyes and laughing mouth. Her tumbling curls bright in the sun. She was the perfect combination of attitude and kindness.

It wasn’t just her, he thought, glancing around at the crowd enjoying the Fall Festival. It was the town. He’d lived in a lot of different places and while he’d always enjoyed the cities, he’d never felt connected to the community. Not like here. A few people recognized him, but the most they wanted was an autograph.

While he wasn’t happy that he’d been rescued by a bunch of women, he knew the significance went beyond their gender and age. It was that they’d seen the problem and acted. They’d stepped in—as if he were their responsibility. He’d moved to Fool’s Gold to find a place to settle, and what he’d found instead was home.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

NORMALLY, AFTER A DAYLONG EVENT, like the Fall Festival, Pia would be exhausted. But as she’d spent exactly half her day just sitting, she felt rested and ready to party at the town’s dinner-dance. Well, in a very quiet, protect-the-babies kind of way.

She finished applying mascara and leaned back to check her makeup in the mirror. She’d taken Dr. Galloway’s advice about stairs and taken the two flights to come back to her place to get ready. All her clothes were here, along with her serious makeup. Raoul was going to pick her up and take her to the dance, then back to his place.

She fluffed her hair, then tightened her robe around her waist. The big question was what to wear.

Sometime in the last day or so, she’d gotten a case of serious bloat. Her pants were tight and no matter how much lemon water she drank, she couldn’t get her belly to go down. There were a couple of dresses she knew wouldn’t fit. But she had one that had an empire waist. The style was forgiving and—

She stopped in the doorway to her bedroom. Her mind replayed her last thoughts, then she started to laugh. She wasn’t bloated, she realized. She was pregnant. Talk about an idiot.

She touched her stomach. “I’m hoping you two weren’t thinking your mom would be a rocket scientist, because that’s simply not going to happen. Pregnant. You’d think I would have grasped that by now.”

She crossed to the full-length mirror on the back of her closet door, then opened her robe. When she turned sideways, she saw the rounding she’d thought was too much water.

“How are you two doing?” she asked, lightly touching her stomach. “Everything okay? I’m fine. Still sad, but recovering. It’s going to be okay. I want you to know that. I’m going to take really good care of you both. I promise.”

There wasn’t an answer, which was probably good. Voices from inside her body would scare the crap out of her. But she felt a sense of peace—a knowing. The rightness of what she’d done settled on her. She was having Crystal’s babies. More important, these were also her babies. They might not have her DNA, but they were growing inside of her. She was nurturing them with every beat of her heart. When they were born, she would be their mother in every sense of the word.

“It’s going to be great,” she whispered.

She went into her closet and pulled out the black dress. The bodice was lightweight velvet, with a deep vee. The skirt began just under her breasts. That fabric was lighter, more flowy, ending just above her knee.

She’d already rubbed a shimmering body lotion on her bare legs. Now she hung the robe on a hook and reached for the dress. After slipping it on, she secured the side zipper. She stepped in front of the mirror to see if it worked.

“Oh my.”

While she’d had breasts since she was about thirteen, they’d never looked like this, she thought, staring at the cleavage filling the vee of the dress.

“At least now I know what I’d look like if I got implants.”

Fortunately the dress had a short jacket. She pulled that on and saw it hid virtually nothing. Raoul was simply going to have to endure.

She’d chosen a medium-heel black sandal. She’d barely slipped them on when she heard a knock at the front door.

“Come in,” she called as she walked to the living room.

The door opened and Raoul stepped inside.

She’d never seen him in a suit before. The dark, tailored fabric fit him perfectly, skimming over impossibly broad shoulders. He was elegant and handsome and hers.

The latter admission was as difficult to believe as the pregnancy had been. Were they really going to get married?

His gaze swept over her, starting at her shoes and working his way up. When he reached her chest, she saw him tense. He crossed the room in two strides, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her with a passion that had her trembling in her heels.

His mouth moved against her, claiming, enticing, promising. Heat poured through her.

Without thinking, she grabbed his hands and lowered them to her chest. He pushed aside her jacket and cupped her eagerly, finding her already tight nipples and rubbing them.

Fire shot through her. She was wet and ready in seconds. She shrugged out of her jacket and fumbled with her zipper. He undid it for her, then pushed down her dress to her waist. Then her bra was gone and his mouth was on her breasts.

The feel of his lips and tongue, the stroking and sucking, nearly brought her to the brink. Her breath came in sharp pants. Need threatened to drown her. She hung on to him to keep standing.

He moved one hand between her legs, slipping under her panties and finding her center with one sure stroke. He rubbed that place hard, as if aware how close she already was. Around and around, his mouth still on her breasts, her hands on his shoulders, her legs shaking so hard she wasn’t sure she could stay standing.

She came without warning. One second she was riding the wave, the next she was shivering and convulsing, rubbing herself against his fingers, gasping out his name. The contractions faded and the world righted itself.

She straightened, as did he. They stared at each other. Then his mouth curved in a very satisfied male smile.

“You look good,” he said. “Did I get a chance to mention that?”

She was still dealing with aftershock. Where had that orgasm come from? Fifteen minutes ago—five minutes ago—she would have sworn she wouldn’t have a single sexual thought ever again. Or at least not until after the babies were born.

She paused to take stock of her body. Except for the lingering sense of well-being, she felt fine.

She smiled at him. “You didn’t.”

His gaze lowered to her bare breasts. “Those are new.”

“You like?”

“The other ones are great, but these will be fun, too.”

She stepped out of her shoes. “Your turn.”

He hesitated. “We probably shouldn’t.”

She could see his erection straining against the fabric of his pants. “Dr. Galloway said it was fine. That the babies can’t see anything.”

She reached for his belt. “How about we get you almost all the way there and you finish inside me? Everybody wins.”

Wanting and concern battled. “I don’t want to put you or them in danger.”

“Me, either.”

She unzipped his pants and withdrew him. He was hard and thick and when she ran her hand down the length of him, his breath hissed between clenched teeth.

He moved closer and kissed her. She gripped him in her hand, moving up and down in a steady rhythm. As they kissed deeply, she moved faster. He touched her breasts, using his fingers to lightly toy with her nipples. Arousal began again inside of her. She felt the need building.

“Raoul,” she breathed.

He must have heard the desperation in her voice because he dropped one hand to her thigh, then moved it between her legs and found her center.

The sure touch pushed her closer. She felt him tense.

She quickly pushed down her panties. He pulled them the rest of the way off and drew her to the sofa.

“Now,” she said and guided him inside of her.

He thrust in slowly, carefully. She felt the restraint in his hard muscles. She grabbed his hips to pull him in. He withdrew and she whimpered. Another thrust. He slipped a hand between them and found that magical spot again. It only took a second for her to feel the shuddering beginning again, deep inside.

She breathed his name and lost herself in her release. He pushed in again and shuddered.

They clung to each other, breathing hard.

When she could speak, she asked, “Was that okay?”

He kissed her lightly. “It was great. There’s something to be said for going slow. How do you feel?”

She knew he wasn’t asking about her afterglow. “Good. Really good.” There was no way to explain it to him, but she had a sense of certainty. A knowledge that everything was going to be all right from now on.

She glanced at the kitchen clock and gasped. “We’re going to be late. We have to hurry.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He stepped back and was dressed in a matter of seconds. It took Pia a little longer, but they were out the door in less than five minutes.

At the bottom of the stairs, he pulled her close and kissed her again. She let herself feel the warmth of his embrace, the safety she found in his arms and knew that somewhere along the way, she’d gone and fallen in love with him.

* * *

THE DINNER-DANCE WAS HELD at the convention center. Tables had been set up in the center, with the dance floor up by the stage. A local DJ would provide the music during dinner before the live band arrived at eight. Dancing went on until midnight. There was a cash bar, plenty of tacky decorations and balloons floating on the ceiling.

“Impressive,” Raoul said as they walked in.

She laughed. “You’re mocking our efforts.”

“I would never do that. It’s charming.”

“Small-town America at its best.”

They wove their way through the crowd, stopping to talk to people they knew. Pia was aware of all the unfamiliar men in the crowd. It was odd to have so many male strangers around. During festivals, most of their visitors were families.

Dakota greeted them.

“You look beautiful,” she told Pia. “Positively glowing.”

Pia did her best not to blush. She had a feeling that any glow came from making love with Raoul rather than the pregnancy, but there was no need for anyone to know.

Raoul must have been thinking the same thing because his hand tightened on hers.

“Thanks,” Pia said. “You look great, too.”

Dakota turned, showing off her blue dress. “I’m dateless, so I’m only here for the dinner. Then I’m heading home to my small, spinster life.”

Raoul looked around the room. “There are plenty of single guys. Go find one.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Not this week. I’m not in the mood. Nevada and Montana are coming over and we’re having a chick-flick marathon. They’re both staying the night.” She raised her eyebrows. “Besides, compared with you, they’re just not that interesting.”

“Oh, please.” Raoul didn’t look the least bit impressed.

Pia laughed. “If I see anyone special, I’ll send him your way.”

“Please don’t.”

They parted and continued to their table. Pia spotted a tall, thin man talking to Mayor Marsha. He was gesturing wildly, talking quickly, although it was impossible to catch any part of the conversation over the other talking in the room.

“Let’s go see what that’s about,” she said, pointing.

They walked between tables and reached Marsha just as the man moved off. The mayor gave Pia and Raoul hugs, then sighed.

“I’m getting too old for this job,” she said. “Do you recognize that man?” She pointed at the guy she’d been talking to.

“No,” Pia said.

Raoul shook his head.

“I didn’t recognize him, either,” Marsha said. “Which insulted him deeply. Apparently he’s some Hollywood-producer type.”

“As in movies?” Pia asked.

“As in reality television. According to him, we’re hot right now.”

“Lucky us,” Pia muttered.

“That’s what I said. He wants to do a show about the bachelors coming to Fool’s Gold. He’s going to get me the details in the next day or so.”

A reality show? “Is that something we want in town?” Pia asked.

“No, but I’m not sure how to keep him out. If he’s not blocking traffic or otherwise getting in the way of everyday life, there’s not much I can do. California has very supportive laws when it comes to filming.”

“Want me to beat him up for you?” Raoul offered.

Marsha smiled. “Aren’t you sweet? Let me think about it. At this point I’m more inclined to have a glass of wine and not deal with any of this until tomorrow.” She smiled at them. “You two have a good time.”

“We will,” Raoul said.

“A reality show,” Pia said as they found their table and sat down. “That’s kind of icky.”

“It should bring in revenue.”

“And weird people.” She leaned against him. “Like Marsha said, a worry for tomorrow.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look?”

“About three times, but it never gets old.”

“You’re stunning.”

“Thank you. You’re pretty hunky yourself.”

* * *

AFTER DINNER, THE DANCING began. Pia excused herself to use the restroom. Along with her puffy tummy came the need to pee forty-seven times a day. Charity joined her along the way.

“How’s it going?” her friend asked.

“Good. I feel much better.”

“Nice to hear.”

Pia turned to her. “I wasn’t ready before, but I think I am now. Want to try the shopping thing again?”

Charity smiled. “I’d love to. I still have to make that all-important baby-wipe-heater decision. We can have an intense conversation about it over hot chocolate and cookies to gain our strength, then face the maternity clothes and baby store, ready to conquer.”

“It’s a date.”

They reached the restroom, only to find the usual line.

“I knew we needed more women’s restrooms when we remodeled,” Pia grumbled. “But did Ethan listen?”

“Complain to Liz,” Charity told her. “She’ll punish him.”

An older woman walked out of the restroom, then stopped by Pia. “How are you feeling, dear?”

“Fine.”

“I was so sorry to hear about your loss. I miscarried two before having my Betsy. She was a blessing. I know it’s sad but you have to trust that happier days are ahead.”

“Thank you,” Pia said.

The woman in front of them turned around. “I lost a baby, too. At four months. It was horrible, but you go on. It’s hard, but moving forward helps with the healing.”

A white-haired lady using a cane to walk stopped by Pia and patted her arm. “Just make sure you’re taking care of that stud of yours in the bedroom. If God hadn’t meant for us to have sex while we’re pregnant, he wouldn’t have made it so much fun. My George, God rest his soul, and I went at it until two weeks before I gave birth. All six times. As soon as the doctor gave us the all clear, we were at it again.” She winked. “One time a little sooner than we should have.”

Pia felt her mouth drop open. She consciously closed it, then swallowed.

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for the information.”

“You’re a good girl, Pia. Have lots of sex. It helps.”

The woman teetered off, leaning heavily on her cane.

Beside Pia, Charity burst out laughing. “I can’t decide which is worse. Her calling Raoul a stud or the intimate details of her marriage.”

“I know which is worse,” Pia muttered. “I’m just trying not to think about it.”

After using the restroom, she returned to the table. Raoul stood.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding worried.

“Nothing.”

“You look…” He frowned. “Shocked.”

“Old ladies are telling me how important it is to have regular sex with you.”

He grinned. “Did I ever tell you how much I love this town?”

* * *

THEY ARRIVED BACK at Raoul’s place a little after ten. The long day had caught up with Pia and she felt exhausted. Raoul guided her into the house, then put his arms around her and leaned his forehead against hers.

“I want us to share a bed tonight,” he said, then smiled. “I’m not going to try to have my way with you. I just want to know you’re okay.”

He’d never asked her that before, she thought, both tempted and frightened by the invitation. In theory, they would be married soon, and after that, they would share a bedroom like every other couple. It wasn’t that big a deal. There was no reason the idea should make her uneasy.

“Sure,” she said, ignoring the warning voice in her head. “That would be nice. You’re not a blanket hog, are you?”

“You can have all the blanket you want.”

A lovely invitation, but in truth she was interested in a whole lot more than a blanket. She wanted him. All of him. Not just a practical invitation to a marriage that made logical sense. She wanted his heart and soul. She wanted to be the most important part of his life and the best part of his day. She wanted him to love her.

Afraid he would sense what she was thinking, she stepped back. “I’m going to go get ready for bed.”

By the time she’d taken off her makeup and changed into a nightgown, she’d nearly convinced herself that everything was going to be fine. That she was over-reacting. Sleeping with Raoul shouldn’t be that big a deal. It was probably better that they get used to each other one night at a time. She could think of this as a practice run.

But when she walked out of the bathroom and found him already in bed, her heart seemed to stumble a little. Although they’d shared a bed the first night they’d made love, somehow this was more intimate.

She shrugged out of her robe, then got into bed.

“Tired?” he asked.

“Exhausted.”

“Back sleeper or side sleeper?”

“Side.”

“Go ahead and get comfortable,” he said, then turned off the bedside light.

She felt self-conscious as she turned on her side, away from him. He moved up behind her, putting his arm around her. His thighs nestled the backs of her legs, his chest pressed against her spine. He wrapped his arm around her waist, holding on as if he would never let go.

“Good night,” he murmured.

“Night.”

Pia found herself getting more awake by the second. She wasn’t used to sleeping with anyone, and everything about being so close to him felt strange. And scary. She knew in her heart she could get to like this. That it wouldn’t take much for her to want him nearby all the time. And then what? Did she spend the rest of her life loving a man who wouldn’t love her back? Did she get lost in her kids’ lives so as not to notice that her marriage was only a shell of what she wanted?

His steady breathing told her that he’d fallen asleep. She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, fighting tears and a crushing sadness that told her the engagement was a mistake.

* * *

RAOUL READ THE GRANT proposal he’d received. A grad student had come up with an idea to link high school math and science programs to specific industries. The industries as a whole would underwrite the cost of the special math or science classes with the idea that most of the students would want to study that field and after college would come back to work for the sponsoring companies. The student wanted to study feasibility and approach different industries. The grant amount was modest enough.

Raoul made some notes in the margin of the proposal. He would call a couple of friends in aerospace, one of the suggested fields, and get their thoughts on the idea.

The door to the large office opened and Pia walked in.

He rose and smiled at her, pleased she’d stopped by. The last few days had been better than he could have anticipated. He liked having Pia around. They got along well. She made him laugh and always had an interesting world view.

Now, however, she looked serious and concerned.

He walked toward her. “Is everything all right?” he asked. “The babies?”

“We’re fine.” She drew in a breath. “I know why Crystal left me her embryos.”

While he hadn’t questioned the reason, he knew she’d had several concerns. “Tell me.”

“She believed in me. She knew she could trust me to care for her children, to raise them as my own. The only person who had doubts was me. I couldn’t believe in myself. I didn’t think I was capable. So I took the easy way out.”

She squared her shoulders. “I’ve moved out, Raoul. I did that this morning, after you left. Liz helped me. I’m back in my apartment.”

“I don’t understand. Why would you do that?”

Leaving him? She couldn’t. He wanted her there—maybe even needed her in his life.

Her gaze flickered, then grew steady again. She pulled the engagement ring off her left hand and held it out to him. “I’m not going to marry you.”

He stared at the ring, watching how it twinkled in the overhead lights.

She couldn’t mean it, he told himself. She needed him. They needed each other.

“We’re going to be a family. I’m helping you with the babies. What’s changed?” They’d made plans. They were going to raise the children together. Have a kid of their own. He thought it was what they both wanted.

“I appreciate the offer,” she told him. “You’re a really great guy.” She paused for a second. “But it’s not enough. I don’t want a practical solution to a difficult problem. I want what Hawk and Nicole have. I want to be in love and be loved in return. I want a passionate, loving, messy marriage, practical or not. I want it all.”

What Hawk and Nicole had came around once every thousand years, he thought bitterly. He’d tried to find it with Caro and had been shot down. She wanted it all. Meaning she wanted him baring it all for her, handing over his heart. And then what? There weren’t any promises, no guarantees.

She wanted more than he was willing to give.

Her mouth curved into a sad smile. “I can see by your face that you’re not exactly excited about my news. I’m not surprised. I was hopeful, of course.”

“We don’t need that,” he told her. “We can make it work the other way. We don’t have to be in love to be happy.”

“Too late,” she said lightly. “I already am in love with you. And I won’t be with someone who doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

She loved him? Impossible. Was she trying to trap him?

Even as he thought the words, he wondered if they were true. After all, he’d been the one to propose, not Pia. He’d been the one pushing for them to be a family. He wanted to be a part of the babies’ lives. She’d never come to him.

But no matter how logical it all sounded, he couldn’t believe it. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Either way, he wasn’t taking the next step. He’d already done it once. He refused to be betrayed a second time.

“What happens now?” he asked stiffly, feeling as if he’d been sucker punched but not wanting that to show.

“We go on like we did before. People knew about the engagement, so you’ll have to answer a few questions. Don’t worry. I’m going to make it clear this was my decision. You won’t get run out of town.”

She held out the ring again, but he didn’t take it. She walked around him and set it in the center of the desk.

“You’re playing it safe,” she said quietly.

He turned to face her. She stared down at the ring, then returned her attention to him.

“You’re looking for an easy solution to a difficult problem,” she repeated. “You can’t play at being a family, Raoul. Life isn’t that tidy. If you want to be happy, you’re going to have to give it all—risk it all. Life demands that from us. You think if you’re logical enough you can make sure no one ever hurts you again. But the only thing that makes life worthwhile is loving other people and being loved by them.”

She sighed. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t mean to fall for you. It just happened. If you change your mind, if you want to take a chance, I’d love to be that girl.”

Then she turned and walked away, leaving him alone in an empty office. Everything he’d wanted was gone, and all he had to show for it was the engagement ring he’d bought for the woman he’d just lost.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

PIA TOLD HERSELF THERE WAS no reason to believe she was going to throw up. That the churning in her stomach would eventually go away. At least she wasn’t crying. It was one thing to walk through Fool’s Gold nauseous—at least no one could tell. But sobbing hysterically might get a question or two.

She reached city hall and went inside. She automatically greeted everyone she passed, smiling and waving, as if everything was fine. Only a few more feet, she told herself as she rounded the corner and saw Charity’s office. The door stood open, so she knew her friend was at least in the building.

Luck was on her side. Charity sat behind her desk, staring intently at her computer. She looked up as Pia entered.

“Thank goodness. I’m going crazy with—” Charity stood, her pregnancy obvious in her brightly colored knit shirt. “What’s wrong?”

Pia sucked in a breath and twisted her hands together. “I told Raoul I couldn’t marry him. That while I appreciated the offer, I can’t be in a practical marriage with someone I’ve fallen in love with.”

She paused, waiting for Charity to burst out laughing. After all, what did Pia expect? That he would fall at her feet and beg her to let him love her back?

Instead Charity walked around the desk and hugged Pia. “Good for you.”

Pia held herself stiffly. “What? Good for me? I’ve just walked away from a guy worth millions who wanted to marry me and take care of me for the rest of my life.”

“You love him.”

“So?”

“You’re convinced he doesn’t love you. Therefore you made the right decision.”

Pia sank into the chair and covered her face with her hands. Reality crashed all around her, leaving her breathless and shaking. “What was I thinking? I can’t do this on my own—be the single mother of twins. How will I pay for it? When will I sleep? I don’t know anything about infants or children.”

Charity pulled up another chair and sat across from her. “You’ll be fine. You can do this. You were planning to do it before Raoul proposed.”

“I was an idiot.”

“No, you were exactly the same person you are now. Capable and loving. Pia, if you can organize the four thousand festivals we have every year and get a fundraiser up and running in three days, you can certainly handle having a couple of kids.”

Pia lowered her hands to her lap. “You think?”

“I know. You’ll be amazing. Besides, you might technically be a single mother, but you’re not going to be alone. You have your friends and you have this town. We all love you and we’ll be there for you.”

“But Raoul would have given me everything.”

“Not his heart.”

Pia felt her chest tighten. “No. Not his heart.”

“So this is better.”

“How can you be sure?” Pia desperately wanted to know she hadn’t made the wrong decision.

“You convinced me,” Charity said kindly. “When you said no.”

* * *

PIA HAD SPENT THE REST of the day buried in work. Maybe it wasn’t the most mature way to handle heartbreak, but it sure cleared out her in-box. Now tired and ready to have some serious pity-party time, she walked home. As she entered her building, she heard a lot of people talking. The higher she climbed, the louder the noise got. She stepped out onto the landing to find most of her friends waiting for her.

Their arms were filled with packages and grocery bags. Liz spotted her first.

“Here she is.”

Everyone turned.

“Pia!” Montana hurried over. “Are you okay?”

From the various looks of concern, Pia realized that word had spread. Not just about the broken engagement, but about their practical but ultimately unworkable relationship.

All three triplets were there, along with Charity and Liz. Marsha held a basket filled with what looked like baby stuff. Denise Hendrix, several women from city hall, along with Bella and Julia Gionni, the feuding hairdressers.

Everyone crowded into her small apartment, pulling in chairs from the kitchen or settling on the floor.

“Jo wanted to be here,” Nevada told her, “but she has to work. She sends her love.”

Pia quickly realized no one expected her to provide anything for the impromptu party. There were plastic cups and paper plates, all kinds of food, from Chinese dumplings to taquitos. Wine was opened, along with sparkling water for Pia. She was settled in the center of the sofa, handed food and drink and surrounded with love.

“How are you doing?” Charity asked anxiously.

“Better now,” Pia admitted. “It’s been a tough day, but I know I did the right thing.”

“I don’t know. Marrying a guy worth millions seems like a smart decision, too,” Bella muttered.

Everyone laughed. Julia rolled her eyes at her sister and stayed on her side of the room.

“You did the right thing,” Montana assured her. “You have to marry for love. You deserve that. The proposal, the begging.”

“You need the begging,” Denise assured her. “Trust me. Courtship is the best time in a relationship for a woman. Marriage is the best time in a relationship for a man. Who gets their best time longer? So you need to make it last. Besides, you deserve someone who adores you, Pia.”

There were several nods of agreement.

“Do you want us to call him names?” Dakota asked helpfully. “Or have him beat up?” She frowned. “That might take two guys, but we can arrange it.”

Pia felt her eyes burning. She blinked away tears. “He hasn’t done anything wrong. Don’t forget, he wanted to take care of me. That’s a good thing. I’m not mad. I’m the one who changed the rules, not him.”

Julia shook her head. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a man beat up. I was hoping to watch.”

“There’s something wrong with you,” Bella snapped.

Denise raised one hand. “Ladies, it’s a testament to your love for Pia that you’re both here. Let’s not forget our purpose.”

The sisters grumbled at each other.

Charity, who sat next to Pia, leaned close. “I never did hear why they aren’t speaking. What’s the story?”

“No one knows. It’s a big secret.”

Charity grinned. “I thought Fool’s Gold didn’t have any.”

“There are a few.”

“We have many gifts,” Montana said, taking charge of the piles. “Most of this you can open later, but you should see this one now.”

She handed Pia a large white envelope. Pia set her plate of food on the coffee table and opened it. Inside were dozens of pieces of paper. Each one was from someone different. Most offered hours of babysitting or company after the babies were born. There were consultations for baby room decorating, the promise of a weekly massage from now until birth, coupons for free diaper service for the first three months and a sheet where the women in town had signed up to deliver dinners for the first six weeks she was home with the babies. Three flyers showed houses for rent.

This time she was unable to stop the tears. They spilled down her cheeks before she could brush them away.

“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. “This is wonderful.”

“We all love you,” Denise told her. “And we want you to know that we’ll be there for you. No matter what.”

It might not be the romantic proposal she’d dreamed about, but it was damned close. These women and this town were going to take care of her. Pia allowed herself to accept the love offered and let it heal her shattered heart. Then she touched her belly and silently told her growing children that no matter what, they were going to be just fine.

* * *

RAOUL SAT AT THE BAR, ignoring the reality show playing on the big TVs around him. Jo’s Bar was quiet tonight, for which he was grateful. He’d tried staying home but he’d been unable to stand the solitude. While he wanted to be out, a crowd would have been too much. There were times when a man needed a little space to get drunk, and this was one of those nights.

He’d started on his second beer when Josh slipped onto the seat next to him.

“Hey,” he said. “Jo called and said you looked like you needed a friend.”

Raoul glanced at the bartender, who gave him a level look as if daring him to challenge her.

“She’s wrong,” he said flatly.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Josh told him. “Charity’s out. There’s some girl thing going on at Pia’s. They’re making her feel better, which I guess makes you the ass who broke her heart.”

Raoul sipped his beer and kept his gaze on the TV screen. A dozen or so people were bent over sewing machines. What the hell? A show about sewing?

Josh turned toward him. “Did you hear me?”

“I didn’t break her heart. I asked her to marry me. I offered to spend my life with her, to take care of her and the kids. I’m not the bad guy.”

Josh took the beer Jo offered and drank some. “So why are you here and why is she back at her place drowning in Ben & Jerry’s ice cream?”

“She wouldn’t be practical.”

“An impractical woman. There’s a stunner.”

He turned to Josh and saw the raised eyebrow. “You don’t understand. We had a deal. I didn’t change it. I didn’t change anything. I care about her.”

“But?”

“It wasn’t enough.” Raoul drained his glass and pushed it toward the front of the bar. Jo turned her back on him. Typical, he thought grimly. “I wanted to take care of her.”

“Did it ever occur to you that Pia can get all that without you? Right now my wife and several of her friends are reminding her that she’s not alone. Except for the sex, which I doubt was very good, she’s covered.”

Raoul continued to stare at the TV screen. “You know I could take you.”

“In your dreams.”

He thought about taking Josh on, of showing the other man how unprepared he was. But there wasn’t any point. Beating up Josh wouldn’t make the hole inside of him go away.

The bottom line was he missed Pia. She wanted the impossible and he couldn’t give it to her, but he still wanted her in his life. They could have been good together.

“The problem you have,” Josh said conversationally, “is that she was never alone. It took her a while to remember that, but once she did, you became a lot less interesting.”

Raoul turned and glared at him. “Do you think that’s why she left? She loves me, you hothead.”

Josh’s expression turned satisfied. “I’d wondered if you’d caught that. You’re right. She loves you. Like most women, she’s not willing to settle. She wants it all. That’s what women specialize in—demanding every scrap of humanity we have. Our hearts, our souls and our balls. You can fight it, my friend, but I’ve learned it’s a whole lot smarter to hand it all over quietly. They’re going to win in the end and if you resist, you only end up having to beg more.” He took another drink. “Unless you don’t love her.”

I don’t.

Raoul started to say the words but couldn’t. He knew that was the real problem. If he could convince himself that he’d only been doing a good thing, something noble and important, the rejection was easier. That’s how this whole problem had started. It should have been easy to forget her.

But it wasn’t and that bothered him. Because it meant there was a possibility that Pia was more than a project, more than a way to get what he wanted without having to risk anything.

Without saying goodbye, he tossed a twenty on the bar and left. Once outside, he sucked in the cold night air, then started walking. But instead of heading to his rental, he crossed the street and went by Pia’s apartment building.

Most of the units were dark, except for one on the top floor. A window was partially open and he heard the sound of voices and laughter drifting down to him.

She wasn’t alone. While the information wasn’t news, the proof of it made him feel better. He didn’t want her to be by herself. He didn’t want her to suffer. He’d really been trying to take care of her. Maybe he’d gone about it in an unconventional way, but he wasn’t the bad guy in this.

And neither was she.

He stood there for a long time before turning around and heading to his own place. The echo of the laughter stayed with him, making him feel more alone than he ever had before. He missed her. Even if he couldn’t be with her, surely he could talk to her. Explain.

Explain what? That his way was better? The truth was Pia deserved more, and that’s what ate him up inside. She’d been right to walk away from him, to demand more. He respected her, admired her, wanted her…

But for the rest of it—she needed more than he had left to give.

* * *

THE SCHOOL CARNIVAL WAS LOUD, a crowded funfest with plenty of kids and parents in attendance. Raoul had gone to support all the kids he’d made friends with and found himself dodging dads who wanted autographs or to talk sports.

“Ah, the price of fame,” Dakota said, coming up behind him as he explained that no, he hadn’t had his head up his ass during that third-quarter play at his last Super Bowl.

He glanced at her gratefully. “Excuse me,” he told the group of men and grabbed her arm. “I need to talk to Dakota about some business.”

“Using me as a getaway?” she asked.

“Whatever works.” He led her out of the crowd, toward the main building. “The mothers are either snubbing me or telling me I’m a jerk, and the fathers all want to talk about specific plays during games I barely remember. There’s no elaborate planning in the middle of a football game. You have to react to what’s happening. If you aren’t prepared to trust your gut and go with what you feel is right, you’ll never win.”

He paused as she stared at him with rapt attention.

“Oh, please,” she breathed. “Tell me more. Don’t leave out any details.”

“Funny,” he muttered, then drew his eyebrows together. “Hey, you’re speaking to me. Aren’t you supposed to ignore me?”

“I work for you.”

“I thought you’d be pissed about Pia.” Everyone else was.

As she’d promised, Pia had spread the word that she’d been the one to break up with him. The problem was not enough people believed her. Or they assumed he’d done something so awful she’d been forced to end things with him.

“You didn’t change the rules,” Dakota said easily. “She did.”

He stared at her, waiting for the “but.”

“Not that you weren’t an idiot,” she continued. “If you’re not willing to risk your heart for someone like her, you’re completely cowardly and stupid. If you can’t see you’re already in love with her, then you’re just dumb.”

So much for having someone on his side. “Tell me what you really think,” he said.

She patted his arm. “You’ll figure it out. I have faith.”

He liked her theory, but she didn’t have all the information. She didn’t understand the past he was fighting.

“Did that guy really want to know if you had your head up your ass?” she asked.

“Those were his exact words.”

She laughed. “I want to say it must be refreshing to have people talk to you like you’re a regular guy and not a sports celebrity, but I’m thinking right now you’d enjoy a little reverence.”

“It wouldn’t hurt. Want to stick around and be my wingman?”

“Not really. You’ll be fine. Chin up and all that. They’re people, too.”

“Are you paid by the cliché?” he asked drily.

She smiled and walked off.

Alone in blissful quiet for a few seconds, he thought about what she’d said. About him being stupid for not risking his heart for someone like Pia.

As much as he wanted to give Pia all that she wanted, it wasn’t as if there was a switch inside that he could simply turn on and off. He wasn’t willing to take the chance again. Period. There was nothing anyone could say or do to change his mind. If that meant losing Pia permanently, then so be it.

He turned to return to the carnival, only to see Peter heading toward him. A short, beefy man trailed behind.

“Hi!” Peter waved his left arm. “Look. My cast is off. And you’re right—my arm looks really weird. All scaly and skinny. The doctor says I’m doing really good, though.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Raoul said, then held out his fist to start their elaborate greeting. The one Peter and Pia had come up with.

The downside of small-town living, he realized. There wasn’t going to be anywhere to escape.

“My foster dad wants to meet you,” Peter said in a low voice when they’d finished. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Sure.”

Raoul walked over and shook hands with the other man. Don Folio eyed him from under thick, dark eyebrows.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Peter,” he said.

“He’s a great kid. Very special.”

There was something about the man Raoul didn’t like.

“We appreciate your taking care of him when we were out of town.”

“It wasn’t a problem.” Raoul smiled at Peter, who grinned back.

Don dug a dollar out of his pocket and handed it to Peter. “Raoul and I need to talk, kid. Go play a game or something.”

Peter hesitated, then nodded and hurried toward the arcade. Don faced Raoul.

“I can see you have a soft spot for the boy.”

“Sure. I like spending time with him.”

Don raised his eyebrows. “How much do you like spending time with him?” he asked.

Raoul felt a flicker of alarm over the oily nature of the question, but he wanted to see where Don was going with this. “If I could have more personal time with Peter, that would be ideal,” he said slowly.

Don nodded energetically. “I’m a man of the world and I get these kind of things. But the foster care system, they have some rules.”

Raoul ignored the burst of fury that flared up inside of him. He kept his expression neutral, his body language open.

“The way I see it,” Don continued, “there are options. You want the kid and I don’t care if you have him. Only it’s going to cost you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Raoul saw Mrs. Miller approaching. Casually, he stepped to the right to block her path.

“You’re saying I can have Peter for a price?” he said just loud enough for the other woman to hear.

She froze, her face going white. He risked a single glance. She nodded, as if to say she was going to stay back and keep listening.

“Sure. And I don’t care what you do with him. To each his own.”

“You have a price in mind?”

“Fifty thousand. In cash.” Don held up his hand. “I’m not interested in bargaining on the price. This is a onetime offer. If you don’t want him, I can find someone else who does.”

Raoul pretended to consider the offer. “You have a way of clearing this through social services?”

“Sure. I go to Mrs. Dawson and say Peter would be happier with you. You had him before and he never said what happened. The kid knows how to keep a secret, I guess. Boys aren’t my thing, but I’m an understanding kind of guy.”

Raoul wanted nothing more than to put his fist in the man’s face. It would give him pleasure to grind Don Folio into the dirt.

He didn’t know how this man had gotten ahold of Peter in the first place, but it was going to stop now. Today.

Don handed over a business card. “My cell’s on the back. You have twenty-four hours.”

Raoul nodded, and the other man walked off. When he was gone, Mrs. Miller hurried up to him. “It’s disgusting.”

Raoul closed his hands into fists. “He has to be stopped.”

She pulled out her cell phone and scrolled through the contacts. “I’m calling Mrs. Dawson right now.”

The social worker arrived in less than thirty minutes. Less than ten minutes after that, Police Chief Barns was threatening a very nervous-looking Don Folio. Raoul didn’t think they could charge the guy with much—money hadn’t actually changed hands—but he wasn’t likely to ever take in a foster kid again. At least that was something.

Peter came running toward him.

“I heard,” the boy said, grinning and slightly out of breath. “I’m not going to be with them anymore. You’re going to take me.”

Raoul stared at the kid, then held up both his hands. “Peter, I think you misunderstood. You’ll be safely away from the Folios and another family will be found for you.”

Peter’s expression froze. The happiness faded from his eyes and tears appeared. He went pale and his mouth trembled. “But I want to go with you. I stayed with you before. You’re my friend.”

Raoul ignored the sense of being kicked in the gut. “We are friends. We’ll still be friends and I’ll see you at school. But I’m not a foster parent.”

“You were before,” he insisted, the last word coming out on a sob. “You took care of me.”

Mrs. Dawson hurried toward them. “Peter, we need to go.”

Peter lunged for Raoul. For a second, he thought the kid was going to hit him, but instead Peter wrapped his arms around Raoul and hung on as if he would never let go.

“You have to take care of me,” he cried. “You have to.”

Mrs. Dawson shook her head apologetically. “Come on, Peter. I have to get you to the group home. It’s only for a few weeks until we find something else.”

Raoul stood there, not moving. Although the boy wasn’t doing anything, he still felt his heart being ripped out all the same. People were stopping to stare.

Just when he thought he was going to have to forcibly push the kid away, Peter let go. Mrs. Dawson led him away, and neither of them bothered to look back.

* * *

MONDAY MORNING, RAOUL arrived at work at his usual time. Seconds later, Dakota walked in, slammed her purse down on his desk and put her hands on her hips.

“I can’t decide if I should quit or back my car over you,” she announced.

He stared at her. “What are you pissed about now?”

“What you did to Peter.”

Raoul didn’t want to talk about that. He hadn’t slept all night and he still felt as if he’d been hit in the gut. “He’s safe now,” Raoul said flatly. “I talked to Mrs. Dawson this morning and from what the psychologists can tell, he wasn’t abused by anyone. Folio’s threats about giving the kid to someone else were designed to make me hurry. He’s not part of a big child-stealing ring. He’s just an asshole.”

She glared at him. “And that’s all you see?”

“What else is there?” He knew he sounded defensive, but it was all he had.

“Peter’s crushed,” she snapped. “You swept in and saved him. Do you think he doesn’t know what you did? You’ve been there for him all this time. You took him home when he broke his arm. You’ve been his friend.”

She spoke as if he’d been burning the kid with a cigarette.

“All that stuff is great,” he yelled. “So what’s your problem?”

She jabbed him in the chest with her index finger. “You led that poor kid on, you jerk. You let him believe that you cared about him and when they took his foster dad away, he thought he’d be going home with you.”

“You think I don’t know that? It was a mistake. All of it.” Getting involved in the first place. He knew better. He did his best work from a distance.

“It wasn’t a mistake.” She spoke more calmly now. “Don’t you remember what that was like? Packing everything you owned into a trash bag because you didn’t have a suitcase and moving on? Do you remember how scary it was to find yourself in a new place, to not know the rules? Now it’s happening again. And you’ve made that reality worse. You let him believe in you, trust you, and it all turned out to be a lie.”

Raoul wanted to protest that he’d never promised the boy anything. That he’d been there in a crisis, but that was all it was. Nothing more.

Only Peter wouldn’t have seen it that way, he thought grimly. He would have expected Raoul to rescue him again.

She shook her head. “I didn’t blame you for the Pia thing, but I’m starting to see a pattern here. You play at making a difference, at being the good guy, but none of it is real. You’re too afraid to give what really matters. You’re all flash and no substance.”

She turned away, then spun back to him. “Do us all a favor. Stay away from ‘causes.’ You’ve already done enough damage here.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

RAOUL’S DAY OF HELL ONLY went downhill from there. Dakota left him alone with his guilt. He wanted to do something, hit something—mostly himself. Nearly as bad, he honestly didn’t know if she’d stalked off because she was mad or if she’d quit.

He paced back and forth in the large empty space he’d rented, trying to find an answer. But it all came back to the same thing. He’d let Peter believe in him, and then he’d let him down.

About an hour later, when he was still trying to come up with a plan, Mayor Marsha Tilson walked into his office. Normally, she was someone he enjoyed talking to. But there was something about the way she moved so purposefully that made him aware he might not like what she was going to say.

“I’ve heard what happened with Peter,” she said, getting right to the point. “I must say, I wish things had turned out differently, Mr. Moreno.”

Looking at her, seeing the disappointment in her eyes, was nearly the toughest thing he’d ever done, but he would be damned if he’d allow anyone to make him flinch.

“I do, too.”

“Do you?” she asked. “When you first arrived we were all impressed by your financial generosity,” she continued, her blue eyes dark with disillusionment. “Your reputation elsewhere was that of a man who cared about others. One who gave back to the community. So when you indicated you wanted to move here, we welcomed you as one of our own.”

She pressed her lips together. “I don’t know all the details about what happened with Pia, but I do know that she is a loving, giving young woman. To see her unhappy pains me. It pains us all.”

His body tensed. He squared his shoulders. “I didn’t hurt Pia. We had a deal. She changed her mind.”

“If she’s not hurt, then why was she crying over you?”

Pia crying? She’d been so sure when she’d left. How could she be wounded?

The mayor drew in a breath. “I’m sure you have some measure of guilt for all this, but fear not. It will pass. Peter will be taken care of, and Pia, too, because that’s what we do here. We protect our own.” She put her hand on his arm. “I want to believe you’re a good man trying to be a better one. But from what I can see, you’re getting in your own way when things get personal.” She stared into his eyes. “For your own sake, and for Pia and Peter, maybe it’s time to risk more than your money.”

With that, she turned and left. Raoul watched her go, feeling the slice of every honest word. He had never been what Hawk had raised him to be. It was all on the surface.

He crossed to the window and stared out at the town.

He’d wanted to settle here, to make a difference. He’d thought he would grow old here. But that wasn’t going to happen. He didn’t belong. No one would say it to his face, but it was true. He deserved to be run out with pitchforks and torches.

He swore, not knowing which was worse—that he’d lost Pia, or that he’d broken the heart of a little boy who’d been foolish enough to believe in him.

He continued to stand by the window, waiting for the day to pass. He needed it to be dark so he could slink home without being seen and figure out what he was supposed to do next.

* * *

“APPARENTLY MARSHA GAVE him one of her famous talks,” Charity said, as she and Pia sat at the Fox and Hound having lunch. “She wouldn’t give me details, but I’m sure she got inside his head and messed with him.”

Pia felt awful. Not only was she still hurting from missing Raoul, she felt terrible about Peter’s situation. While she agreed that Raoul had given the boy the impression he would be there for him, she knew the man she loved would never deliberately hurt anyone. It seemed there were no winners in this situation.

“Did she say how he looked?”

“No.” Charity studied her. “You really do love him, don’t you?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I thought this would disillusion you.”

“No. He has a good heart and he’s a good guy. None of this is easy for him.”

She thought about his past, how Caro had betrayed him. How he was afraid to trust.

“Everyone needs to give him a break,” she said firmly.

Charity hesitated. “Marsha thinks he might be leaving town.”

Pia’s breath caught. “Leaving? Why? He’s settled here. He has the camp, which is what brought him here. There are plans for special classes and intensive learning. He would never give that up.” The camp represented his future.

She looked at her friend. “There’s no way he would make the decision on his own. What happened? Did Marsha run him out of town?”

“No, but she made it clear she was disappointed. How will he handle that?”

“I don’t know,” Pia admitted. Would he leave? If he didn’t feel comfortable in town, he might. She hated the thought of Fool’s Gold without him.

“I’m sorry,” Charity told her.

“Me, too,” Pia said. “I want him here. I want him to stay. While I’m at it, I want him to love me back.”

“You don’t get to decide any of that,” her friend reminded her.

If only things could be different, Pia thought sadly. But they weren’t.

* * *

RAOUL’S PLAN TO WAIT until dark lasted about an hour. He paced in his office, tried working, then had to fight the need to throw the damn computer across the room.

He was furious and ashamed and disappointed—all with himself.

He’d come here with big ideas for finding the right place, the right way to give back. Being like Hawk, changing lives, had driven him. Everything about Fool’s Gold had appealed to him. The friendly small town had made him feel welcome. Then what had he done? Blown it.

Years ago, in college, he’d screwed up big-time. Hawk had been the one to get him back on track. Since then, Raoul had managed to find his way on his own. Until now.

He couldn’t figure out where it had all gone wrong. With Pia, he supposed it had been when he’d offered to marry her so he could have everything he wanted without putting any part of himself on the line. He’d taken the easy, safe way out, and it had all gone to hell.

He should have known he couldn’t have it all for free. That was like making a deal with the devil. If it looked too good to be true, it was.

As for Peter, he’d simply stepped in it with the kid. His motivations had all been aboveboard, but somewhere along the way, he’d forgotten he was dealing with a ten-year-old boy’s heart. He’d befriended Peter, wanting only to save the kid. Instead he’d hurt him again.

Unable to stand the confines of his office, he stalked to the door and opened it. He half expected an angry mob with pitchforks waiting for him, but the town looked as it always had. The turning leaves fluttered in a light breeze. The sky was blue, the sun a little lower in the horizon than it had been a month ago. Winter was coming.

He’d wanted to see the town in snow, to experience the changing seasons. He’d wanted to ski at the resort, to lie with Pia by a fire, to watch her grow heavy with their two babies. It didn’t take much effort to add Peter to the mix. He could see the boy playing by the fire, or laughing as he and Raoul played video games.

As he stepped out into the afternoon, he realized the solution was obvious and simple. He could have them both, if he was willing to hand over all he was. What had Josh said? Heart, soul and balls. Without Pia, he had no use for them anyway. As for Peter, the kid probably deserved better, but Raoul hoped he was willing to accept what was offered.

He half expected the heavens to open and angels to sing. He got it. He really got it. After all this time and running to avoid the only thing he wanted, he understood the point.

It wasn’t about giving money or loaning a camp to a school. It was about giving all he had, all he was. It was about risking his heart.

Pia, he thought frantically. He had to get to Pia.

He turned toward her office, only to nearly run into a half dozen middle-aged women. They were staring at him purposefully, which wasn’t a good thing.

“Hi,” the one in front said. “I’m Denise Hendrix. Dakota’s mother? We met at the Fall Festival.”

He held in a groan. “Yes. Nice to see you again.” He nodded at the other women. “Ladies.”

The other women stared at him without responding. He noticed Bella in the crowd, but she didn’t look as happy as she had the day she’d also helped rescue him from the overaggressive tourists.

“We need to talk to you,” Denise told him.

“This isn’t a good time for me.”

“Do we look like we’re getting any younger?” the oldest in the group snapped. “You’ll listen, young man, and you’ll listen good. We have ways of making your life a living hell. Do you really want to test us on that?”

Like any good sportsman, he knew when he’d met a superior opponent. “No, ma’am.”

“I didn’t think so.” She sniffed. “Go on, Denise.”

“We’ve been talking,” Dakota’s mother told him. “We looked you up on the Internet. I don’t know what went wrong with your first wife, but she wasn’t anyone we would trust.”

The other women nodded in agreement.

“You’ve been single a few years now, so you’re obviously over her. You came here to settle down, which shows you’re intelligent. You seem like a nice enough man.”

Obviously these women hadn’t been talking to Mayor Marsha, he thought grimly.

“But you’re stuck.”

Bella pushed through the other women and moved in front of him. “Pia loves you, so we want her to have you.”

Denise patted her friend’s arm. “Bella, I think we need to be more delicate. Raoul might not know he’s in love with Pia. We might have to explain things.”

“He gets it,” another woman said. “How could he not? She’s wonderful. If he doesn’t love her, he doesn’t deserve her.”

“I agree,” someone else said. “But I’ve said it before. If we wait for the man we deserve, we’ll never get married.”

“At least he’s handsome.”

“And rich.”

“He has nice, thick hair,” Bella told them.

“And a great butt.”

The last comment was Raoul’s tipping point. “Ladies,” he said loudly. “I appreciate the intervention. I know Pia will be grateful when she hears of your very vocal support.” Humiliated, he thought while smiling for the first time in hours, but grateful.

“However, this is between me and Pia. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go talk to her.”

Denise grabbed his arm in a surprisingly strong grip. “Not so fast. What are you going to say?”

He stared at them all. While he could easily tell them it wasn’t their business, he hadn’t changed his mind about settling here. Fool’s Gold was going to be his home for a very long time, and these women were his neighbors.

“The truth,” he said simply. “That I’m desperately in love with her and I’m begging her to give me a second chance.”

Several of the women sighed.

Denise gave him a shove. “Don’t just stand there,” she said. “Go find her.”

He took off at a jog, trying to figure out where to go first. It was midafternoon. He would start with her office and spread out from there.

He took the stairs two at a time and burst onto the landing. Her door stood partially open. He hurried toward it, aware of voices down by the first-floor entrance. Ignoring them, he pushed open Pia’s door and found her alone in her small office.

She looked much as she had the first time he’d seen her. Pretty with curly brown hair and bright, hazel eyes that showed every emotion. The difference was now he knew that she was kind and loving, funny and smart. That she was rational and compassionate, even when panicked, that she gave with her whole heart and that he could search the world and never find anyone even close to her.

She looked up, startled. “Raoul. Are you okay? I heard about Marsha’s visit and I want to tell you I had nothing to do with that.”

“I know.”

“She’s upset, but no one wants you to leave town.”

“Good, because I’m not going.”

“Really? Well, that’s great. I mean of course you can live where you want. This is a free country. Sometimes small towns have an inflated sense of themselves.”

He moved around the desk and drew her to her feet. Her gaze flickered, as if she was afraid to stare directly at him.

“Pia?”

“Yes.”

“Look at me.”

She sighed, then did as he requested.

He knew her face. He’d seen it hundreds of times. But he would never get tired of seeing her and touching her. Only her, he thought. He would take the chance with her, because he didn’t have a choice. Without her, he was only half-alive.

“I offered you a marriage of convenience,” he began. “Because I wasn’t willing to get involved again. My first marriage ended badly. I’d made a mistake and I didn’t know where I’d gone wrong. Rather than figure that out, I decided to never take the chance again.”

Her fingers were warm against his. He felt her faint trembling. While he wanted to reassure her, he knew he had to tell her the truth, first.

“What Caro did was wrong, but I don’t believe she meant to betray me. Her career mattered more than anything else. I’d known that, but I didn’t think through what that meant. I wanted a wife and a family. She said the right words, and I took them at face value because it gave me what was important to me. I think she knew I wouldn’t like hearing that she wanted to wait to start a family.”

He brought one of Pia’s hands to his mouth and kissed her palm.

“I moved here, thinking it would be easy,” he continued.

“Foolish man.”

“Tell me about it. It wasn’t easy, but it was where I belonged. This is home. But it’s an empty, cold place without you.” He stared into her eyes. “I love you, Pia O’Brian. I was too stubborn and scared to admit it until now, but I love you. Please marry me. Not because it’s convenient, but because we can’t imagine life without each other.”

Hope brightened her face. Her lips curved into a smile.

Everything inside of him relaxed. She still cared. They could be together. Except…

“But it won’t just be us,” he told her. “You, me and the twins. There’s also Peter. I can’t leave him in the group home. I want to talk to Mrs. Dawson about adopting him.”

She bit her lower lip. “And if I say no to that?”

He tensed again, feeling the fist hit his gut. “We’re a package deal.”

Everything he’d ever wanted and needed hung on what she would say next. He wanted to tell her that he would take care of her forever. That he would always love her and their children. But he couldn’t bribe her into accepting. They both had to follow their hearts.

“Right answer,” she whispered. “And yes.”

Happiness exploded inside of him. He hauled her against him and kissed her with all the love and passion he had. Behind them he heard something that sounded like both cheering and sniffing. After a few seconds, he raised his head and glanced over his shoulder.

The women he’d met on the street all stood there, joined by the mayor and Mrs. Dawson.

“I’m so happy,” the social worker said, dabbing at her eyes. “You were cleared as an emergency foster parent when Peter went to stay with you the first time. You can go get him now.”

The other women nodded. Marsha smiled. “I knew you had it in you.”

“You didn’t say that earlier.”

“It wouldn’t have helped.”

Note to self, he thought, kissing Pia again. Do not get on the mayor’s bad side.

Pia wrapped her arms around Raoul’s neck and leaned against him. She’d hoped, prayed and done her best to believe it would all work out, but she’d also been scared. Scared that she would spend the rest of her life loving a man who wouldn’t love her back. It was nice to be wrong.

He kissed her again. Her insides started that melty thing, which was also very nice.

“We’ve got a lot to do,” he said, his forehead resting against hers. “Approve the house plans, get married, start birthing classes.”

She laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m really good at details. Right now there’s only one thing that matters.”

He nodded. “Peter.”

“Yes. He should be home from school by now. Let’s go tell him the good news.”

Raoul hesitated. “You’re sure about this? We’ll have three kids.”

“I’m sure.”

There were other considerations. Like the fact that being a mom to newborn twins and Peter probably meant she was going to need an assistant to help her with all the festivals. And that until their new house was built, things were going to be a little crowded in the rental. And that they should get married right away so she could move in with Raoul and Peter. But those were for later. Now they were off to make a little boy’s dreams come true.

* * *

PETER SAT ON THE NARROW bed he’d been assigned. This was the same group home he’d been in before, but the kids were different. Not so mean. No one teased him about crying himself to sleep every night.

He tried really hard not to be scared all the time. He told himself he was bigger now. He didn’t need anyone. He was strong. Except when he thought like that, his chest hurt and his throat got tight and then he started crying.

He knew what would happen next. He would be sent to a foster home where he wouldn’t know the rules and the other kids would stare at him. He would try to do everything right, but he wouldn’t and then he’d get yelled at and maybe hit. And he would be alone.

From downstairs, he heard voices. Adults talking. For the first couple of days he’d waited for Raoul to come. To say he’d made a mistake, that he’d changed his mind. That he wanted Peter with him forever.

He’d thought…he’d hoped…

He shook his head. He’d been wrong. No one was coming for him. Not ever.

“Peter?”

He heard Mrs. Goodwin call his name.

“Peter, would you please come downstairs?”

Peter stood and wiped his face so no one would know he’d been crying. He moved to the landing, his head down, his shoulders hunched.

He took one step, then another. When he glanced up, he saw Raoul and Pia standing in the living room, watching him.

Without meaning to, he came to a stop and stared at them. They both looked kind of funny. Not mad, exactly but… Scared, he thought at last. Only adults didn’t get scared, did they?

Raoul walked to the bottom of the stairs and looked up at him.

“I’m sorry,” Raoul said. “For making you come here. I messed up.”

Peter shrugged. “Whatever.” He knew people were supposed to apologize, but he didn’t know why. Saying you were sorry didn’t change anything.

“No. Not whatever,” Raoul said, his gaze intent. “All I could think about was getting you away from the Folios. But there was a next step. You didn’t just need to be away from them, you needed to find your way to a real home.”

He cleared his throat. “Pia and I are getting married. We wanted to know if you’d like to come live with us.” Raoul paused. “No, that’s not right. We want to adopt you, Peter. If you’ll have us as your family.”

Peter’s whole body felt hot and cold at the same time. The words were like magic, making everything okay again. Okay for the first time in forever. Tears filled his eyes, then he was coming down the stairs so fast, he was practically flying. He launched himself at Raoul.

Raoul caught him and held him so tight it was hard to breathe, but that was okay. Peter was crying, then Pia was there, hugging them both. She was saying something about babies and puppies and his own room.

Peter didn’t understand it all and he knew it didn’t matter. All he cared about was that he’d finally found a place to belong. A family with people who loved him. Raoul’s strong arms held him. Pia kissed his cheek and smoothed away his tears.

For the first time since the car accident, he looked up at the ceiling and knew his parents really were watching him from heaven.

“You can stop being sad now,” he whispered. “I’m going to be okay.”

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eISBN-13: 978-1-4603-4906-9

Susan Mallery Fool’s Gold Series Volume One
Copyright © 2014 by Harlequin Books S.A.

The publisher acknowledges the copyright holder of the individual works as follows:

Chasing Perfect
Copyright © 2010 by Susan Macias Redmond

Almost Perfect
Copyright © 2010 by Susan Macias Redmond

Sister of the Bride
Copyright © 2010 by Susan Macias Redmond

Finding Perfect
Copyright © 2010 by Susan Macias Redmond

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