Книга - Star-Crossed Parents

Star-Crossed Parents
C.J. Carmichael


Few people can say they're starring in a real-life version of Romeo and Juliet. And single mom Leigh certainly doesn't want to play the role of disapproving mother. But when her daughter runs off to New Hampshire for a boy she's met over the Internet, it's a discomfiting reminder of Leigh's own past….The problem is Sam Wallace, the boy's father, and his ridiculous notion that love conquers all. Worse still is that Sam could be a pretty darn good (not to mention attractive) distraction for Leigh. But how can Leigh think about herself when her daughter is about to make the worst mistake of her life?









Star-Crossed Parents

C.J. Carmichael





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For M.N.F.

The book has already been written…

Thanks to the following wonderful people for helping me with my research: Mike Fitzpatrick, Simon Batcup, Gloria Fournier (all marathoners), Dr. Shouresh Charkhandeh, Dr. Gordon Bird and Gwen at Jefferson Inn




CONTENTS


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 ONE


T HE NOTE WAS STUCK to the fridge with a magnet when Leigh Hartwell came home from work, but she was too rushed to read it.

She set the bag of groceries on the counter, then opened the fridge to store the assorted cheeses she’d picked up for the party tonight. She’d hardly finished when the phone rang. It was the caterer, her friend, Tina O’Dell.

Leigh had a premonition of trouble. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t find fresh scallops.”

“I found them.” Tina sounded grumpy. “But why didn’t you tell me you weren’t inviting men to this party?”

“I sent you the guest list a month ago and you’re just noticing that now? Anyway, why should it matter whether there are men at the party or not?”

It wasn’t as if she and Taylor had set out to avoid them. It just so happened that when they’d listed the important people in their lives—her coworkers at the dental clinic and the people in her running group, Taylor’s best friend and her pals from ballet—no males had made the cut.

“I bought a low-cut blouse to wear tonight, that’s why it matters. I was going to look hot. ”

“I’ll take a photo. You can put it up on an Internet dating site.”

“Hey, I’m not that desperate. You, on the other hand—”

“No lectures, Tina. I don’t have time.” She still had to shower and change before Tina arrived with the food. “You still planning to be here in an hour?”

“Of course. I’m never late for a catering gig. So how was the run? You know I love Taylor and wouldn’t have missed cooking for her party, but I hated to miss it.”

“I didn’t go, either.”

“Leigh—”

“How could I, when I’m expecting twenty guests less than two hours from now?”

“But running relaxes you, and worrying about your guests is my job. If you trusted me—”

“I do. Really. I know everything will be perfect. It’s just—what’s one run? We’ll both go a few extra miles on the weekend.”

“This isn’t about your training schedule. It’s about your need to relax and enjoy yourself now and then. I want you to have fun at Taylor’s party. Not worry about every little detail. Speaking of Taylor, how’s our girl doing?”

“Actually…I’m not sure. She should have been home by now. There’s a note on the fridge. Let me just grab it.” She snatched it too quickly, sending the magnet flying to the floor.

“Wasn’t today the first day of her new summer job?”

Leigh grabbed the magnet and stuffed it into the drawer where she kept pens and paper. “Yes, if she made it on time. She didn’t get to bed until after midnight last night.” She’d been on the computer again. Since receiving her letter of acceptance from Cornell University a month ago, Taylor was forever on their Web site.

“Look, Tina, I’d better run. See you soon, okay?” As Leigh returned the phone to the counter, she skimmed the note.

Hi, Mom, Taylor had written. I know this is going to sound crazy…

Leigh stopped breathing as she read the rest.

No. Impossible.

This had to be her daughter’s sick idea of a joke.

She set the paper down, pulled out an open bottle of white wine and poured herself a glass. She took a long swallow, then read the note again.

I know this is going to sound crazy, Mom, but I’ve been chatting with this really nice guy over the Internet for several months and last week he asked me to come and visit him. Don’t worry, he’s a great person and I’m not in any danger. I’ll call you once I get there.

Love, Taylor

P.S. Sorry about the party…

No matter how many times Leigh read the note, the message wouldn’t change. And yet she still couldn’t believe it. She and Taylor had had so many conversations about the dangers of meeting people over the Internet and the folly of dating someone you only knew through correspondence.

All those late nights when Leigh had assumed Taylor was either studying or researching Cornell…she’d really been chatting with this guy.

And who was he? Taylor had left her no clue. No name, no address, no contact information of any kind. Leigh grabbed the phone again and tried her daughter’s cell phone. She was shuffled straight to the message service.

“It’s Mom, Taylor. I’ve found your note. Please call me as soon as you get this.”

Damn.

How could Taylor have done this? Leigh’s daughter was a shy girl who didn’t date much. Years of struggling with acne had left her self-esteem a little battered where boys were concerned. In a way, Leigh could understand why Taylor had felt more comfortable meeting a guy at the distance the Internet offered.

But why hadn’t Taylor said anything? Their relationship was close, or so Leigh had thought, but she’d had no clue Taylor was carrying on this way.

Who was this guy? How old was he? Was he a predator?

No, no, don’t panic. Stay calm. Think. Focus.

It was no use. One scary possibility led straight to another. Where was her daughter, right now? Still en route? Or had they already made contact?

The very idea had Leigh hyperventilating. Don’t worry, the note had said. He’s a really nice guy.

Well, how would Taylor know? Had she had the guy checked out? Leigh knew she hadn’t.

Oh, God. Please don’t let this guy be some sort of pervert.

Leigh jerked away from the table. The first thing she had to do was phone Kerry. Surely Taylor’s best friend would know all about this.

But Kerry didn’t.

“That’s insane, Ms. Hartwell. Are you sure?”

Leigh read her the note.

“Taylor never mentioned a word about this guy.”

“So you can’t give me a name? You don’t have any idea where he might live?”

“Sorry, I don’t have a clue.”

Leigh could have banged her head against the wall. “I can’t believe Taylor would do something like this.”

“I can’t, either. It’s totally not like her.”

Leigh disconnected the call, more concerned than ever. For a moment she contemplated the bizarre possibility that her daughter had been abducted and forced to compose the note. But there was no sign of any stress in Taylor’s neat printing. No sign of a struggle in the pristine apartment.

She checked her daughter’s room and found it atypically neat. Taylor’s backpack, the one she’d used for school, was missing. So were several pairs of jeans and her favorite hoodie.

Leigh looked in her own room next and found her closet in disarray. Not a good sign. It was usually when Taylor wanted to look older that she borrowed from her mother’s wardrobe.

The computer was the next logical place to go. Leigh and Taylor shared the same password, since it was a family machine, and she had no trouble getting into Taylor’s e-mail account, though it was something she’d never done before.

She groaned at the list of saved messages, almost all of them from someone who called himself PartyMan. Why hadn’t she thought to check up on her daughter sooner? The media were always warning parents to monitor their children’s computer usage.

But Leigh never thought to worry about Taylor. She was such a good kid and there’d been no decline in her marks at school. Wasn’t that one of the warning signs that were supposed to alert parents that their kid might be in danger?

But she couldn’t pinpoint any changes in Taylor’s demeanor or behavior. If anything, Taylor had seemed in higher spirits and even more cooperative these past few weeks. Leigh had attributed this to excitement about her graduation from high school and acceptance at Cornell. Apparently, though, her daughter had been excited about something else, entirely…

An Internet romance.

But was that really what was happening here? Fear crawled over Leigh’s skin and she tried not to think of the many newspaper articles and made-for-TV movies about far more sinister scenarios.

Her daughter had a golden future before her. She had to be all right. She just had to be.

Leigh opened the most recent message from PartyMan and skimmed the contents. Most of the message contained plans for when he and Taylor would finally be together. It all sounded quite innocent…long walks together, picnics, listening to music, that sort of thing. But of course, if this guy was a pervert he wouldn’t be broadcasting his intentions, would he?

Her attention zeroed in on the last paragraph of his message: I’ll pick you up at the bus station. It’s just a few miles from my place. Can’t wait to finally meet you!

Her stomach dipped, and her skin crawled again. “I’ll just bet you can’t wait to meet her, you creep.”

Needing specific details about their plans, she opened the previous message. It was all there. PartyMan’s real name was Josh Wallace—or so he claimed—and he lived in a town called Jefferson in Mount Washington Valley, New Hampshire. He’d given Taylor information on the bus route, and, thank goodness, a home address.

Leigh closed the computer and picked up the phone again. She had to rent a car and go after Taylor right away. She was negotiating a weekly rate, with unlimited mileage, when the doorbell buzzed.

“Okay, that sounds fine. Can you have someone drive the car to this address?” She recited her apartment number and street quickly, as she crossed the room to the front door.

Tina O’Dell, her curly hair in a messy ponytail, arms laden with a huge casserole dish, stepped into the room.

“Party time,” she announced gaily.

Leigh disconnected the call and shook her head. “Afraid not.”

“What—”

“Taylor is missing and I’m on my way to find her. But first I’m going to call the police.”



T HE WINDOW of the 2003 Buick LeSabre slid downward and a grizzled face peered out from the driver’s seat. “Fill ’er up, Sam.”

Sam Wallace heard the phrase every day, and each time it made him smile. “Fill ’er up,” sounded a lot like “Batter up” to him. Not too many people would see much in the way of similarities between playing baseball and working at a small-town gas station, but Sam did.

Though he hadn’t played the game, or even checked a box score, in six years, baseball was part of him. He couldn’t shake it.

“You bet, Ernie.” He reached in the open window to clasp the older man’s shoulder, before moving to the other side of the vehicle. He unscrewed the gas cap, then inserted the nozzle for regular unleaded gasoline.

He listened to Ernie chat about the Red Sox until the pump shut off automatically. He recapped the tank, then waited while Ernie counted out the twenties with age-worn hands. “Bloody oil companies,” the older man muttered.

“I’ll be right back with the change.” Sam took the money inside to his nephew, Robin, who was working for him for the summer.

Two elderly women were sitting in chairs, waiting for the bus for Concord, which was due any minute. He nodded at them, then passed Robin the money. The sixteen-year-old passed him back the change with practiced efficiency.

While Sam was settling up with Ernie, the bus from Concord pulled in. Three young people emerged into the warm New Hampshire sunshine. He nodded at two teenage boys he recognized. They were often in the store buying slushy drinks and chatting up girls.

The young woman, though, Sam didn’t think he’d seen before. He guessed she came from the city. She looked like a model, all made up with stylish clothes. But the expression on her face was that of someone young and vulnerable.

“You okay?” he asked. “You seem a little lost.”

Her smile was sweet. “I’m fine, thank you. It’s just that someone was supposed to meet me.”

Her voice confirmed it. This was a New York City gal. He wondered what she was doing here, who’d she’d come to meet.

“Do you know Josh Wallace?”

Sam blinked. “Ah…sure. He’s my—”

Before he could finish, the sound of squealing tires had both him and the girl turning to watch as Josh’s van pulled into the station. Josh swung into a vacant parking spot, and a second later leapt from the driver’s seat and jogged over toward them.

“Sorry I’m late.” Josh sounded breathless and he looked…different.

Sam checked the impulse to comment on his son’s reckless driving. He couldn’t remember when he’d last seen that look in Josh’s eyes. The girl seemed equally excited to see him, too. They couldn’t take their eyes off each other.

He stepped between them and held out his hand to the newcomer. “I’m Sam Wallace, Josh’s father.”

“Oh.” She shook his hand. “I’m Taylor Hartwell. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Wallace.” She frowned. “You look kind of familiar. Are you—”

“Taylor’s here to visit for a few days,” Josh explained. He’d interrupted Taylor, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“Oh?” Sam said. “You didn’t mention anything at dinner last night.”

Josh just shrugged, then hooked a hand around the straps of the backpack on Taylor’s shoulders.

“Can I carry this for you?” he offered gallantly.

Sam struggled not to smile as Taylor slipped off the pack and passed it over. As he took a closer look at the girl, though, Sam felt a twinge of concern. “So, where are you from, Taylor?”

“New York City.”

As he’d thought. “That’s quite a distance from here. Where did you two meet?”

His stomach dropped when he saw the look that passed between her and Josh. At first it didn’t seem as if they were going to answer his question. “Josh?” he prodded gently.

“On the Internet. A few months ago.” His son squared his shoulders, unconsciously taking a stance that told Sam he was expecting criticism and was prepared to do battle against it.

It’s a new world out there, Sam told himself. He’d seen plenty of articles in the paper about Internet dating sites and such things becoming more popular. No sense overreacting.

And yet…was the girl as old as she looked?

“Your family knows you’re here?”

She nodded.

“Cut it with the questions, Dad.” Josh sounded annoyed. “We’ve got to get going.” Josh had slung Taylor’s pack on one shoulder. With his free arm he took her hand.

“See you later.”

Taylor twisted to face him, even as Josh pulled her toward his waiting van. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Wallace.”

Polite girl. But she sounded even younger than she looked. Just how old was the girl?

Sam watched after the couple, not sure how to react. His son was nineteen, an adult under the law. Hopefully the girl was, too. Should he have asked to make sure?

As Josh’s van pulled away from the station, Sam’s sense of unease grew. He wished Taylor had looked him in the eyes when she’d told him her family knew where she was.




CHAPTER TWO


L EIGH REFERRED TO the MapQuest directions she had taped to the dashboard, next to the cup holder. From the Washington Bridge she was supposed to merge onto I-95.

She did a shoulder-check, then shuddered. A steady stream of cars came up from behind her. Oh, God. Why did all the drivers have to hang on to each other’s bumpers? She was never going to be able to make a safe lane change.

But she had to.

She switched on the indicator light, shoulder-checked again, then steered the car to the next lane. Mercifully, the vehicle behind her made room.

Oh, God, she thought again. This traffic was unrelenting. Thank goodness she didn’t need to drive very often.

In fact, if the guy at the car rental agency had known just how rarely she did drive, he probably would have thought twice before handing her these keys.

Living in Manhattan, she had no need for a car, which was lucky because she had no interest in them, either. She couldn’t even recall the make of this one. It was red and had four doors. When the needle on the gauge fell near empty, it would need to be filled with gasoline. That was the sum total of her automotive knowledge, and she could only pray she wouldn’t be called upon to figure out anything else.

She glanced at the MapQuest directions again. In seven-point-three miles she would have to take the Hutchinson Parkway North exit and then almost immediately take another exit to the left.

Usually, Taylor navigated for her. She had a natural sense of direction and was good at reading maps. On top of all that, she had common sense, which was why this whole escapade just didn’t compute.

Taylor wasn’t the kind of kid to fall in love over the Internet, then run off for a secret meeting. Well, she’d left a note. But a discussion beforehand would have been far more acceptable. Not to mention mature.

If Taylor thought being eighteen and graduating high school was all it took to make you grown up, she had a lot to learn.

“Hey, buddy!” Leigh slowed as a blue car from the right suddenly came into her lane, practically on top of her. Immediately she forgave every rude thing New York taxi drivers had ever said in her presence. Talk about job stress.

Her cell phone rang and she glanced at it, worried. She needed both hands on the wheel. But what if it was Taylor?

She picked it up to check the call display. It was Wenda, the office manager at work. Before she’d left home, Leigh had called and left a message that she wouldn’t be able to make it in on Friday. Oh, and by the way, Taylor’s graduation party had been canceled.

Wenda was probably panicking right now, but Leigh would have to talk to her later. Right now, the only call worth taking in this traffic was one that might be from her daughter.

Fear tightened her stomach, squeezed her throat. Taylor was okay, she kept telling herself, but what if she wasn’t? Only rarely did Leigh regret the fact that she was a single mother. This was one of those times. It would be nice to have a husband to lean on right now. Someone who knew Taylor and who understood that this sort of behavior just wasn’t like her.

The police didn’t get it. Her call had not been treated with the urgency it deserved. In their eyes Taylor was an adult. The fact that she’d left a note proved she was acting of her own free will.

Just this winter, Leigh had been required to sign the application for Taylor’s college admission. Now, if Taylor felt like it, she could enlist in the military and go to war.

As if a few months and a birthday were all it took to make you a grown-up.

The world was a crazy place.

A car on Leigh’s tail honked, then pulled out and passed. It seemed to Leigh that the vehicles on both sides of her were driving much faster than she was. She pressed a little harder on the accelerator, gripped the steering wheel a little more tightly.

This was terrifying.

Suddenly, spending a few thousand on a cab fare seemed like a brilliant idea. If only she could take the bus, as Taylor had been smart enough to do. But there was no time. She probably couldn’t get to Jefferson before Taylor did, but Leigh was going to get there as fast as possible.

Before PartyMan had a chance to…

No, she couldn’t think about that.

According to MapQuest, she had over three hundred miles ahead of her, six hours of driving.

Six hours that her daughter would be at PartyMan’s mercy…



“D ID YOU CATCH the Red Sox game last night, Uncle Sam?”

“Huh?” Sam flipped a page in the Lands’ End catalogue. Lately, his sister had been at him about his wardrobe. It seemed like every item he owned was wearing out. Even the cleaners had told him he needed some new shirts. But what colors? What size? Susan had always bought his clothes for him.

“The Mets trounced them.”

He closed the catalogue and looked at Robin, who was grinning at him as he read the sports section of the Boston Globe. Robin loved baseball, like just about everyone else in Jefferson—except for Josh and Robin’s mom, Kate.

“That rookie pitcher for the Mets is hot. Some say he reminds them of you, in the early years.”

“Is that right?” He opened the catalogue again and heard Robin sigh. Poor kid was always trying to engage him in baseball talk. You’d think his mother’s aversion to the subject would have turned him off, but it hadn’t. Sam’s own feelings about the game were ambivalent. Baseball had given him a lot, but it had cost him plenty, too.

“Say, when you were pitching, did you ever—”

The sound of a bell cut Robin short. Outdoor lights illuminated a cherry-colored Ford Fusion as it pulled up to the pumps.

“I’ll get this one.” Sam tossed the catalogue behind the counter, then moved briskly toward the car. The Fusion’s plates told him it was a rental from New York. The driver was an attractive brunette, who must not have noticed this was a full-service station because she was out of the driver’s seat before he could ask her what grade of gas she wanted.

She looked to be in her thirties, a petite, pretty woman who radiated tension. He eyed the fancy dress she was wearing. The matching shoes. The slender, yet muscular, calves.

“Can you tell me where Jefferson is?”

He bristled at her tone. A “hello” would have been a nice courtesy. But this woman was clearly in a hurry.

“You’re in it.” She couldn’t have missed the hand-painted sign just a hundred yards up the road.

It wasn’t unusual for strangers to have recognized him by now, but this woman’s glance was dismissive and short. She was far more interested in the surrounding countryside than the human being in front of her.

“But where are the stores?”

He pointed out the Grocery sign behind him. “Right here. School’s around the bend. So’s the post office and general store.”

As she processed that, he glanced through the window into her car. A black duffel bag was tossed on the back seat. MapQuest directions were taped to the front dash. He smiled at that. On the front passenger seat, along with a cell phone, lay some crumpled tissues and an empty bottle of water.

He gave the woman a closer look. There were smudges of mascara under her eyes. Had she been crying? But she didn’t look sad. She looked angry.

“On holiday?” he asked, though she clearly wasn’t. She was dressed as if she was on her way to a fancy cocktail party, though that couldn’t possibly be the case. Cocktail parties in Jefferson were about as rare as beach parties in the Antarctic.

“No. I’m looking for Oak Valley Road. Do you know where that is?”

She was looking for his place? No, he realized suddenly. Josh’ s.

Now he made the connection. This woman had the same delicate build and coloring of the girl Josh had picked up from the bus earlier.

She seemed a little young to be Taylor Hartwell’s mother, but Sam would have bet his business that was who she was. The woman was burning off more carbon than any gasoline-sucking combustion engine he’d ever seen.

She was pissed.

He thought of the used tissues in her car and amended his assessment. Also upset.

“Well? Have you heard of it? I hope I didn’t write down the address incorrectly.”

She looked as if she was about to pull her hair out at that possibility, so he was quick to reassure her. “I’ve heard of it. Actually, it’s my road. My house is there and so is the cabin where my nineteen-year-old son lives.”

“Your son. Is he Josh Wallace, by any chance?”

“That’s him.”

“And you said he’s only nineteen?” Her shoulders relaxed a little. “Well, that’s one thing I don’t have to worry about, at least.”

“Pardon?”

“Sorry. I’m just—When I got home from work this afternoon, I found a note from my daughter. She said she’d gone to meet this guy she’d met over the Internet. You can imagine my reaction. She’s only eighteen.”

Sam swallowed. Yeah, he could imagine her reaction, all right. Good God, what was the matter with Josh? Why hadn’t he told him about this? Sam would have advised him to talk to the girl’s mother, at least.

“Look, I was about to close up for the night. Why don’t you follow me home and I’ll introduce you.”

He’d have a word with his son at the same time. So much for the hope that letting Josh have his own place would have a maturing effect. Maybe it had been a mistake to let him move into the guest cabin without agreeing on monthly rent. But Josh’s event-planning business was still in the start-up phase. Once it was in the black, he’d de finitely expect his son to contribute some cash.



“I GUESS WE SHOULD introduce ourselves before we go any further. I’m Sam Wallace.”

“Leigh Hartwell.”

This man made her feel uneasy. Partly it was his size. He was unusually tall and very broad-shouldered. He was also quite attractive, despite a crooked nose and crowded bicuspids.

Maybe that was the problem. He was uncomfortably good-looking. She’d never been able to trust handsome men. They were too used to getting what they wanted from women.

Was that what his son was like, too?

“Right,” she said in the brisk, professional tone she used with patients. “So, let’s get going.” She slipped back behind the wheel, then waited as Sam crossed to the truck parked at the side of the station. A dark-haired teenage boy stepped out from the store and they had a brief conversation. The boy glanced in Leigh’s direction, then headed back to the store where he flipped the sign in the door from Open to Closed.

Leigh rubbed the back of her neck as she waited. She was relieved that she’d found the right place, and that her daughter was meeting someone her own age and not an older man who preyed on innocent girls.

Still, there was plenty about the situation she didn’t like. Never mind Taylor skipping out on her own graduation party. Why hadn’t she told her mother where she was going? That note had been a real slap in the face.

And what kind of kid was this Josh Hartwell? His father seemed respectable enough—not to mention potently attractive—but didn’t you have to wonder about someone who would lure a girl hundreds of miles just to meet on spec?

Sam hurried back, keys in hand. He got behind the wheel of a black pickup truck and Leigh hurried to follow him. They passed through the four-way stop, then down a hill and up the next rise.

It was too dark to see much of the surrounding countryside, but Sam drove his truck just under the speed limit, making it easy to follow him. Not that the route was complicated. Oak Valley Road was the second left after the stop sign by the gas station. He could have easily given her directions, rather than going to the effort of escorting her.

Seconds later they pulled into a narrow access road. The track was bumpy and she tightened her grip on the steering wheel as she followed Sam down yet another hill. He stopped beside a white van with “Party Man” painted in black letters, along with a phone number and a Web address.

Leigh felt another release of tension as she realized that Taylor’s friend’s moniker referred to a business, not a state of mind.

Ahead of them stood a two-story home with white siding and black shutters. It looked like a family home and Leigh half expected a woman to step out the front door with a welcoming wave.

That didn’t happen, though. Sam got out of his truck and came around to open her door. He held out a hand for Leigh as she stepped out of the driver’s seat.

For a moment they stood close to one another, and Leigh felt a crazy stirring, an attraction she couldn’t deny. As a dentist, she was used to being physically close to people she didn’t know very well. Some of them were handsome men. But she’d never had this sort of reaction to one of them before. She stepped back, not trusting, not liking, this betrayal of her own body.

“The cabin is just down here.” Sam pointed at a worn path to the left of the house. Thanks to a dim porch light, Leigh could see the outline of a small building amid the trees.

She let Sam lead the way, her heels causing her no small problem on the uneven ground. As she stumbled along, fear rose in her again. This was true wilderness out here, with no sign of civilization anywhere, beyond the Wallaces’ two homes.

Once on the wooden porch, Sam glanced back at her. He seemed hesitant about knocking.

“Hurry up,” she urged him.

“It’s awfully quiet in there. I’m a little worried….”

“So am I,” she assured him. Her daughter and his son had been alone for hours. Anything could have happened.

She tried the door handle and felt a flood of relief when it turned in her hand. She pushed the door wide and stepped into an open space containing a kitchen, eating nook and sitting area.

No one was there.

Her gaze followed a staircase to the left that led up to a loft.

Sam put a hand on her arm. “The bedroom’s up there.”

Unbidden came an image of Taylor—bound and gagged and tied to a heavy bed frame. “It’s okay, honey. I’m here. I’ll be right there.”

She tried to break Sam’s hold, but it was firm and strong. “Let go of me. What are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“Mom?”

The voice was soft and came from above. Leigh craned her head back. Her daughter stood at the pine railing that ran the length of the loft. She was wrapped in a bedsheet, packaged with the guy next to her like a two-for-one special.

Both had tousled hair, naked shoulders and very flushed cheeks.

There could be no doubt as to what Leigh and Sam had just interrupted.




CHAPTER THREE


“W HAT ARE YOU DOING HERE ?” Taylor leaned over the railing, pulling Sam’s son with her. Her voice was stronger now and tinged with a defiance that Leigh had never heard before.

“Taylor? What’s going on?” It was a stupid question, since the answer was obvious, but Leigh felt completely out of her element. She was relieved, of course, that Taylor wasn’t being held against her will, that she hadn’t been raped or hurt in any way.

But it was still a shock to find her in bed with this young man. Maybe Leigh should have expected it, but naively, she had not.

“How did you find me?”

“I checked the computer.”

“You read my personal messages?”

“Taylor, for heavens’ sake! I was worried. I had no idea what you were getting yourself into.”

“Didn’t you find my note?”

“As if that was any help. God, Taylor. We should have discussed this. You didn’t even tell me where you were going.”

Taylor groaned. “I wonder why. If only I’d been smart enough to erase my messages.”

Leigh put a hand to her neck. Stiffness and neck pain was an occupational hazard. The drive hadn’t helped and neither did craning her head this way in order to look at her daughter. “Could you please come down here so we can talk civilly.”

“What if I don’t want to talk?”

Her daughter’s rudeness took Leigh’s breath away. As she waited for the moment to pass, the two kids upstairs backed away from the railing, disappearing from sight. From the rustling, Leigh guessed they were putting on their clothes.

Oh, my God. My daughter has just had sex.

The realization hit her hard. Since Taylor had never had a steady boyfriend, this was probably the first time. Why did it have to be with someone she’d met over the Internet? Taylor deserved so much better.

Suddenly Leigh became aware of Sam’s presence beside her. He was frowning. “What’s your problem?” she asked.

“I’m not sure this is the best time to talk.”

“That’s my daughter up there. This is the first time she’s met your son. And in case you hadn’t noticed, they’ve—”

“I noticed,” he said quietly.

“Then how can you even suggest this isn’t a good time to talk? What kind of father are you? Those kids—”

“Are adults.” He hesitated, and for the first time, uncertainty shaded his dark blue eyes. “You did say Taylor was eighteen, right?”

“Yes. Just out of high school. We were going to have a party….” She glanced down at her dress, so inappropriate for the situation she found herself in right now, but she hadn’t wanted to waste a minute changing.

Leigh swayed and immediately felt Sam’s hand at her back.

“Let’s sit down.”

She planted her feet where they were. “I need to talk to my daughter.”

“You will. Give them a minute to sort themselves out. Come on, let me get you a drink. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Since that was exactly how she felt, she conceded her position and followed him into the kitchen. She sank onto a stool and folded her hands on the butcher-block counter.

Taylor’s words were still ringing in her ears. What are you doing here? What if I don’t want to talk about it?

Her daughter did not speak to her this way. She simply didn’t. Clearly, this boy, Sam’s son, was to blame.

Sam slid a glass of orange juice in front of her. She glanced up at him.

“Hope that’s okay. Only other choice is beer.”

That’s what he’d picked for himself. She watched as Sam twisted the cap off a bottle of lager, then took a long swallow. She considered asking for a beer, herself, then decided against it and had some of the juice. The beverage slid down easily, and she realized that she was starving. It was almost nine o’clock and she hadn’t had anything to eat since lunch.

Sam settled onto the stool next to hers and she was struck by the breadth of his shoulders, the size of his arms. In a flash she saw that she’d been just as foolhardy as her daughter. She’d followed a stranger to a remote location, put herself totally at his mercy.

Logically, it had been a very stupid thing to do. And yet she couldn’t summon the energy to feel afraid, or even slightly nervous.

She didn’t know Sam Wallace was a decent person. But she thought that he was. If only she could say the same for his son.

At the sound of steps on the stairs, she turned. Her daughter and PartyMan were dressed and coming to face the music. She studied Taylor’s face for signs of contrition and was dismayed to see none.

Before she could say a word, Taylor started.

“I don’t see why you had to drive all this way. I’m just visiting Josh for a few days.”

“Visiting? It seemed to me you were doing more than that. ”

“ Mom. ” Taylor sounded mortified.

“If you wanted to come to New Hampshire, you should have asked.”

Josh put his arm around Taylor’s shoulders. She smiled at him gratefully, but the smile dropped away when she turned back to her mother.

“You know you wouldn’t have let me. Anyway, I don’t need your permission anymore.”

“Maybe not,” Leigh conceded. “But I would have hoped you’d have at least had the consideration to discuss this with me. Or, at the very least, waited an extra day.”

“I am sorry about the party, Mom. But you can’t blame me for that. I didn’t even want one.”

Taylor’s words stung, mostly because they were true. Taylor had tried to talk her out of the party, but Leigh had convinced herself that Taylor really did want it. But maybe she’d just been projecting her own wishes on her daughter.

Leigh had never had the chance to celebrate her own high school graduation. She’d been a new mother-to-be by then, taking her remaining credits by correspondence. She’d so much wanted to give her daughter the party she’d never had.

“Look, Mom, I am sorry. But there was no other way. You never listen to what I say. You don’t trust me.”

“Maybe for good reason.” Leigh waved a hand at Josh. “You’ve never even met this young man. How could you travel all this way to visit him? He’s a stranger. I thought you had more sense than that.”

“He isn’t a stranger. I love him.”

Love.

A silence left the word lingering in the air. Josh looked overwhelmed, then he recovered and pulled Taylor closer.

“Love,” Leigh repeated. “This is the first time the two of you have met and you’re telling me you love one another.” Sam hadn’t said a word since the kids had come on the scene, but now Leigh turned to him, certain that he had to support her on this point at least.

“Maybe we should leave these kids alone for a bit.”

“What?” As far as Leigh was concerned, their discussion had barely started.

“Just give them some space,” Sam added, holding out a hand as if he expected her to go with him. “I’m not leaving without my daughter. Come on, Taylor. We can continue our discussion in the car.” The keys were still in her hand. She didn’t relish tackling the freeways in the dark, but she supposed she would have to manage.

She started for the door, then stopped when she realized Taylor wasn’t following. “Taylor?”

“No.”

Josh moved behind her, planting both of his hands on her shoulders. Leigh took a deep breath. “Okay, we don’t have to go back to the city. I’ll find us a room and after we have a good night’s sleep we’ll be able to—”

“No, Mom. I won’t go with you. Josh invited me for the weekend.”

“Taylor, this is crazy. We don’t know these men. Come with me and—”

“No, Mom. I’m staying. You want me to, right?” She glanced over her shoulder at Josh.

“Sure.” He cleared his throat nervously. “Mrs. Hartwell, we haven’t officially met, but—”

“Ms. Hartwell. Not Mrs.” Leigh tried not to be swayed by the boy’s charming smile. It was a lot like his father’s, without the crowded bicuspids. He’d probably had the braces his father had done without.

“Oh. Sorry. Anyway, we haven’t met, but I’m Josh Wallace and I do care about your daughter. I didn’t trick her into coming to Jefferson. She wants to be here.”

“Josh, you’re a nice-looking kid and I’m sure you have a lot of friends who think you’re great, but what you’re doing with my daughter isn’t right.”

“I have to disagree. There’s nothing wrong with what we’re doing. This is my place and I’m sorry, but I’m asking you to leave.”

“What?” This kid—this boy who had lured her daughter hundreds of miles from home—was kicking her out of his house?

Sam crossed the room. Took her arm.

“Let go of me.”

He immediately did so. “You going to exit on your own steam?”

Obviously, she had no choice. She gave her daughter one last look, but Taylor wouldn’t meet her eyes. Leigh fought a sudden urge to cry. “If you need me, dial my cell, Taylor. I’ll keep it on all night.”

It was pitch-dark now and Leigh had to rely on Sam to guide her as she stumbled along the dirt path in her high heels toward their parked vehicles. By the time they reached her rental car, tears were streaming down her face. She averted her head so he wouldn’t see.

Taylor had never talked to her that way before.

Was it Josh’s influence that was making her do so now? Or was this the result of some parenting mistake Leigh had made along the way? Had she been too protective? Too controlling? Had she somehow forced Taylor into this act of rebellion?

“So,” Sam said. “You heading back to New York City now?”

Was he crazy? “I can’t just leave her.”

“Why not let her stay the weekend, like they planned? I’ll drive her to the bus on Monday morning.”

How could he say that? “You don’t see anything wrong with what they’re doing?”

“I admit I’m not one-hundred-percent happy about the situation. But that’s not the point.”

“It is the point. They’re just kids. We have to stop this.”

“But they’re not kids, Leigh.” Sam’s voice was now gentle.

“I don’t care about the technicalities. My daughter demonstrated more good sense when she was ten.”

Sam surprised her by smiling. “Love can do that to a person.”

There was that word again. In Leigh’s opinion people used it far too frequently. Far too easily. “They’re young and attracted to one another. All the more reason for us to step in. Their judgment is seriously impaired right now.”

“Maybe they’re not the only ones.” Sam passed her a tissue from his pocket.

Despite the dark, he’d noticed her tears. Leigh blotted them, then sighed. She was so tired. And confused.

“Want to come in for a minute and regroup?” Sam offered.

His house had no lights on, save a dim glow near the front door. In contrast, Sam’s son’s cottage was ablaze with light. As Leigh watched, first one light, then another, went out. The last one off was in the upstairs loft area.

The bedroom.

Oh, God. Could she really leave Taylor alone like this?

“Leigh? It’s okay. Really. I saw the way Josh looked at your daughter. He does care about her. And if you’re worried about diseases or pregnancy, don’t. I’ve been very open with my son and Josh knows how to protect her.”

Leigh was glad of the dark. Glad that Sam Wallace—new-age dad of the open communications era—couldn’t see her blush. “I had those same talks with Taylor.” At night. In Taylor’s bedroom. In the dark it had been easier to say all the things that needed to be said.

“Good. Then you know we don’t need to worry.”

As if. Leigh had known, naturally, that one day her daughter would put all that good advice into practice. She’d just hoped that it would be later. And a little more discreetly.

“I need a place to spend the night. Can you recommend someplace nearby? An inn or maybe a bed-and-breakfast?” She’d seen dozens of signs along the highway. There had to be something available in Jefferson, even if it was the smallest town she’d ever been in.

“That’s a good idea. It’s too late for you to drive all the way back to New York City. Come on inside and we’ll phone around.”

He cupped her elbow, and she felt it again. That sizzle of awareness. To counter the effect, she tried to picture him in a dental chair with drool dripping down his chin.

The feeling wouldn’t go away.

“Is there a decent place nearby?”

“Several. But it is summer. Tourist season. Finding a vacant room is going to be a long shot.”

She let him lead her down a cobblestone walk toward his home. The delicious aroma of stewing meat and vegetables met them at the door.

“Is your wife at home?” Funny she’d been cooking in the dark, though.

“No. I’m a widower.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s been six years,” Sam added, his tone a little softer. “That’s my dinner in the Crock-Pot you’re smelling.” He flicked on a series of lights and she saw immediately that the interior of this house was as welcoming as the exterior.

Family pictures on the walls, a hand-crocheted afghan resting on a footstool, candles on the tables.

“Wait there. I’ll be right back,” he promised as he disappeared down a hallway that ran parallel to a set of stairs leading to the second story.

She took a closer look at the surroundings and saw that the scene wasn’t quite as perfect as it first appeared. The potpourri in the crystal bowl near the entrance looked more like dust than dried flowers and pinecones. The curtains in the living room were likewise dusty…and frayed in one corner. The mirror in the entrance was slightly askew.

Six years his wife had been dead?

Other than some superficial cleaning, Leigh was willing to bet the place hadn’t been touched since.

“You’re sure? Thanks a lot, Kate.” Sam’s voice grew louder as came back along the hallway. “I’ll let you know. You bet.”

He disconnected the call, just as he reached her. “Good news. My sister has one room left at her inn. You would have passed it on your way here. It’s just a mile from the gas station, on the main highway. Washington Inn…did you notice it?”

“Yes.” A cream-colored colonial, with light blue shutters and tons of flowers out front. It had seemed well maintained. She hoped the beds were comfortable. She hadn’t realized how tired she was, or how hungry. “Is there a restaurant on the way?”

“Sorry. This is a small town. They sell sandwiches at the general store across from the school, but on weeknights they close at seven.”

“You’re kidding. There must be someplace where I can find a bite to eat.” In New York nothing closed at seven. Even her dental clinic stayed open until nine, three days a week. Of course, it was well past nine now.

For a moment Sam didn’t answer. He just stared at her. She could guess what he was thinking. Something along the lines of spoiled city woman has no idea how things are done in the country.

Well, she didn’t care what he thought. She was starving. And she’d had a really, really bad day.

“You’re welcome to join me for dinner if you like.”

She studied Sam’s face. “Are you serious?”

“Why not? I have plenty.”

She didn’t think she’d endeared herself to him tonight. In fact, she’d been a bit of a pain. “That’s very kind of you.”

“I’m just being practical. You’ve been driving for hours, you’ve admitted you’re starving. I’ve got a Crock-Pot full of stew…more than enough for two.”

“It smells divine.”

“So you accept?”

He was obviously a very polite man. He even managed to sound like he wanted her to stay. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for us to get to know each other a little better.”

And, who knew? Maybe she’d be able to change his mind about how to handle Josh and Taylor. They’d be so much more effective if they were working as a team.




CHAPTER FOUR


“Y OU MUST HAVE BEEN young when you had Taylor. You don’t look old enough to be her mother.”

“I was young. Only eighteen.”

The exact age as her daughter was now. No wonder the sex thing was such an issue for her. Now he’d pressed her hot button again, when all he’d been trying to do was give her a compliment.

Better change the subject. Fast.

“Want some more stew?” She’d already had two helpings, just like him, so he wasn’t surprised when she shook her head. He stacked the dirty plates, then pushed them out of the way.

“I was eighteen,” Leigh repeated. “And, as you may have guessed, the pregnancy wasn’t planned.”

He’d hoped to bypass this. Should have known better. “Must have been difficult for you.”

“You have no idea.”

She was right. He didn’t. He and Susan hadn’t been much older than her when they’d had Josh, but they’d been in love and excited about starting a family. “What happened to the father?”

“Not in the picture. Never has been. My parents helped me in the beginning. They made it possible for me to go college. I’ll always be grateful to them for that.”

For that, but not much else, he surmised. “Is Taylor close to her grandparents?”

“Not really. We don’t see each other very often. They live in Boston. In the same neighborhood as my sister and her family.”

It sounded like there was a lot more than that to the story. But he sure as hell didn’t want to hear it. “Want some dessert? I’ve got ice cream.”

“No, thanks.” She glanced at her watch. Sighed. “What the heck. I’ll run it off tomorrow. What flavors do you have?”

“Maple pecan or chocolate. Are you a runner?” That would explain those great legs.

“Yes. Maple pecan, please. Do you run, too?”

Automatically he sucked in his stomach. He’d managed to pick up an extra pound or two every year since he’d quit ball. “I’ve been thinking of starting. We have a lot of great trails around here.”

He pulled the carton of maple pecan from the freezer and put some into two bowls. As he did this, Leigh rinsed their plates and stacked them into the dishwasher. Rather than returning to the table for their dessert, they both settled on stools at the counter.

He took his first taste of the ice cream. “Eating this stuff always makes me feel like a kid.”

She didn’t smile back. “Taylor is not going to make the same mistakes that I did. I won’t let her.”

Oh, boy.

“Let me tell you a little about my daughter. Taylor graduated from high school this year with a three-point-nine grade average. She’s going to work at a coffee shop for the summer, saving her money to go to Cornell in the fall. She’s already been accepted.”

“Good for her.”

Leigh nodded. “The next four years are going to be the best years of her life. I want her to experience everything—living on campus, the social life—as well as her studies.”

In other words, everything her mother hadn’t been able to experience when she’d been that age. “And when the four years are over?”

“An undergraduate degree is just a base these days. Taylor will probably go on to medical school. Or maybe do her masters in psychology.”

Did she have an idea how pompous she sounded? Sam couldn’t remember meeting anyone who alternately intrigued and annoyed him as much as this woman did.

“What about your son? What are your plans for him?”

She revealed a lot about herself with her questions. “Josh has his own plans. He started his business while he was still in high school. You saw the van out front.”

“But what about his long-term plans?”

He shrugged.

“A business degree would probably help him if he’s serious about running a small company.”

“Really? I hadn’t thought about that.”

Leigh opened her mouth, then closed it when she realized he was being sarcastic. The truth was, Sam had wanted Josh to go further with his education. His son knew that the financial resources were available if he ever chose that route. But so far he hadn’t.

Leigh pursed her mouth. She did that a lot. It was too bad that a woman with such sweet, kissable lips had such a disagreeable habit.

“I don’t care how successful his business is. A college degree would help. It would also provide a safety net for the future. In case his business ever does go sideways.”

Sam set down his spoon, even though his bowl was still full. He was no longer in the mood for ice cream. “Look. You may have your ideas about what my son should do with his life. It may surprise you to find out that I have a few of my own, too. But the bottom line is this—it’s Josh’s life. He’s the one who decides if he wants to go to college or not.”

“Well, of course he does. But a parent should have some influence in the matter. Though I suppose if he’s making all sorts of money at his business, college would be a hard sell.”

Sam wasn’t going to admit to Leigh that Josh was barely scraping by, that more than once he’d needed to bail out his son so he could cover his payables.

“Sometimes you have to let your kids make a mistake or two.”

“There are mistakes, and then there are mistakes. ” She stood and slung her purse back on her shoulder. “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that point. Thank you very much for dinner, but I’d better get going now.”

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow…?” He followed her down the hallway, then stepped past her to open the front door.

“Yes. I’ll be by first thing in the morning to pick up Taylor.”

“What if your daughter doesn’t want to go home with you?”

Leigh’s lips pursed again. “If she insists on staying the whole weekend, I suppose I will, too.”

She left then, and he watched her drive away before heading back to the kitchen. Miss Prim and Proper’s ice-cream bowl was as spotless as if a kitten had licked it clean.



A YARD LIGHT BURNED bright at the Washington Inn when Leigh drove up ten minutes after leaving Sam’s. She parked at the end of a line of six vehicles, grabbed the duffel she’d packed so quickly, then made her way over the stone pathway.

No one was at the front desk when she walked in, but within seconds a woman appeared.

“Hi, I’m Kate Wallace. Welcome to the Washington Inn.” Sam’s sister had even, pearl-like teeth. She looked around Leigh’s age, maybe a few years younger, and was dressed in yoga pants and a matching top. She eyed Leigh’s dress and heels with a hint of curiosity, but she didn’t offer a comment on the out-of-place outfit.

“Thanks. I’m Leigh Hartwell.”

“Yes. So my brother said.”

Leigh wondered if Sam had explained the whole scenario to her. Or told her what a terrible, controlling parent he thought she was. Probably not, because Kate’s smile seemed genuinely friendly.

Kate snagged a key from a drawer, then handed her a pamphlet, as well. “I’ve put you in the turret room. Sorry it’s so small, but it was the last room left.”

“I’m sure it will be fine.” She was desperate to get out of this outfit. Out of these shoes.

On the way, Kate showed her the breakfast room. “Coffee, tea and cookies are available from five o’clock on. Breakfast is served at seven-thirty or eight-thirty. Which would you prefer?”

“Seven-thirty.”

Kate smiled. “An early bird.”

“No. A runner. I figure if I eat early I’ll be able to go for a run around nine. Your brother said you have some nice trails in the area.”

“If you aren’t afraid of hills, we do. I’m not a runner myself, but many of our guests are. Stop at the desk in the morning and I’ll give you a map.”

Leigh thanked her, then followed the other woman up a set of creaky, wooden stairs. If she ran for an hour tomorrow, that would make up for skipping her run today and the bowl of ice cream. By the time she showered and drove back to the Wallace place, it would be around noon, which was perfect since Taylor wasn’t a morning person at the best of times.

Which these were not.

On the second story, Kate paused. “To the right is our New England suite. An elderly couple from Canada are staying there. And over here is the washroom you’ll be using.” She opened the door on the left to reveal a tiny bathroom with a shower stall, sink and commode. “Sorry it’s so small, but at least you don’t have to share.” She passed Leigh the key.

“And my room?”

Kate pointed up and smiled gamely. “You won’t need to warm up for your run tomorrow with all these stairs.”

The turret room was even tinier than Leigh had expected. And since it really was in a turret, none of the walls were straight. A double bed had been squished into one half of the space. A rocking chair and small footstool sat next to the bank of windows facing the back of the property.

“It’s pretty.” Leigh fingered a needlepoint cushion on the chair. “How long have you owned this place?”

“I moved here after I was married. The inn has been in my husband’s family for decades.”

“It must be a lot of work. Do you and your husband run it on your own?”

“My husband passed away six years ago. So it’s just me and my son, Robin, now.”

“I’m so sorry.” Before she could ask what had happened to her husband, Kate was telling her.

“Andrew died in a car accident. He and my sister-in-law were killed instantly.”

Oh, no. “Was that Sam’s wife?”

“Sam told you about Susan?”

“Only that she’d passed away about six years ago.”

“Yes. Andrew was taking Susan shopping in North Conway. She hated to drive in the snow and we’d just had one of those terrible spring storms.”

Leigh shook her head in mute sympathy.

“But enough about that.” Kate forced a cheerful smile. “I hope you’ll be comfortable here. If you start to suffer from cabin fever, feel free to come downstairs for a coffee or to watch television.”

“Not tonight, thanks. You don’t know how good that bed is looking to me right now.”

Kate’s smile relaxed. “The bed may be small, but it’s really comfortable. I hope you sleep well.” She paused in the doorway. “My brother didn’t say how many nights you’ll be staying?”

“It depends on how long it takes me to talk my daughter into coming home with me. With any luck we’ll be gone tomorrow afternoon.”

“Sam mentioned something about your daughter. She’s a friend of Josh’s?”

“Sort of. They met over the Internet.” Leigh made a face and Kate looked sympathetic.

“They made a plan to meet the day Taylor finished her last exam. I just found out this afternoon, when I got home from work.” She looked down at her dress. “We were going to have a graduation party.”

“What a shock that must have been for you.”

Leigh blinked away fresh tears. She’d cried most of the way here from New York. As if tears were going to solve anything.

“If it makes you feel any better, my nephew is a sweet guy. He’s always been a good kid, never got into any trouble.”

“I could say the same for Taylor. Until this.”

“Love does strange things to us all.”

Sam had said something similar, just a few hours ago. And Leigh had only her own life to look back on to know that it was true. But damn it, she’d hoped Taylor would have known better.

“It’ll be okay, Leigh. Get some sleep. And call me if you need anything.”

The moment Kate left, Leigh collapsed on the bed and kicked off her shoes. She couldn’t think about Taylor right now. It hurt too much. Kate was right. She needed sleep. Things always looked better in the morning, right?

Sam’s sister was so nice. Why couldn’t Sam be that nice, too?



T HE SITUATION DID NOT seem better to Leigh the next morning. It didn’t seem better after breakfast, either, and the hour-long run that usually left her feeling clearheaded and optimistic only made her more tense.

She knew she wouldn’t feel better until she’d talked to Taylor. Hopefully the implications of her rash actions would have sunk in by now. Wouldn’t it be great if she’d already decided she wanted to go home?

Leigh hurried through her shower, then threw on jeans and a T-shirt. In the car she was dismayed to realize the gas tank was almost empty. When she’d stopped yesterday for directions, she’d forgotten to buy any gas.

It was quarter to twelve when she pulled up to Sam’s Gas & Groceries. Before she could do much more than unclasp her seat belt, he was by her car.

Why, when practically ninety-nine percent of the gas stations in America were self-serve, did his have to be full-service?

She lowered the window.

“Looking for directions to New York City?”

“Very funny.” He was wearing an outfit similar to yesterday’s. Dark jeans and a navy T-shirt with the gas station logo embroidered on the front pocket. Inexplicably there was a baseball taking the place of the O in the word Groceries.

Sam rubbed his chin. “You sleep okay?”

“Just fine.”

She felt a subtext in his gaze, a message that came across as clearly as if he’d actually said, I hope you’re feeling more reasonable today.

“My sister called last night. Said you’d found the place all right.”

Had he been worried she wouldn’t? That had been considerate of him.

“She said she’d already shown you to your room and that you seemed like a lovely woman.”

Leigh was pleased. “I liked your sister, too.”

Kate had handled breakfast for ten guests all on her own, without losing her poise and good humor. Clearly, despite the loss of her husband, she was managing just fine. Leigh admired that.

“Kate’s one of the best.” Sam raised his eyebrows. “So did you just stop to chat or can I do something for you?”

“Oh, chat, of course, but since I’m here you might as well fill the tank.”

“With?”

He was really in a strange mood today. “Gas.”

His mouth twitched. “Regular or premium?”

As if she had a clue. She scowled at him. “It’s a rental. How should I know?”

“Never mind. I’ll give you regular.”

Then why had he asked her in the first place? Just to make her feel foolish, no doubt. She watched his reflection in the side mirror as he unscrewed the gas cap, then inserted the nozzle and started the gas pumping. Once everything was set up properly, he grabbed a squeegee and started cleaning her windshield. He was so tall he cleared the bug smears off with three long strokes, leaving a trail of cloudy water with the last one.

“Want me to check the oil?”

Man, cars were a lot of work. “Do we have to?”

“You just picked it up from the rental place yesterday?”

She nodded.

“It’s probably okay, then.”

He read the total off the gas pump and she handed him her credit card. He returned a minute later. She noted his big, strong hands as he passed her the plastic tray with her card and credit slip. She scratched out her signature, then returned the tray.

“Did you talk to the kids this morning?” she couldn’t resist asking.

“They weren’t up when I left for work.”

She did her best to shut down the mental image he’d just given her. Her daughter in bed with his son, the two of them cuddled up together like…lovers.

She closed her eyes and tried to replace that picture with another—the path she’d jogged along that morning. Rocks and tree roots had made the footing treacherous, but the canopy of birch, oak, maple and pine had more than compensated for that difficulty.

Feeling slightly more calm, she said, “Well, they should be up by now.”

“You headed that way?”

“Of course.” Where else would she be going?

“Okay. I guess I’ll see you there.”

“You will?”

“It’s noon.”

“You go home for lunch?” Why couldn’t he just bring a sandwich to work like most of the American workforce?

She didn’t want him present when she was talking to Taylor. Didn’t want him watching. Interfering.

“I’m not the enemy, Leigh. I’m after the same thing you are. All I want is for my kid to be happy.”

Happy, sure. But what about responsible? Considerate? Mature? Leigh didn’t say anything, not wanting to start another disagreement.

Leigh took a deep breath, then restarted her car. The pain in her neck had subsided overnight, but she had a feeling she was about to get another.




CHAPTER FIVE


M USIC BLARED from the open windows of Josh Wallace’s cottage. For once the sound of the hip-hop rhythm she usually found so annoying was welcome to Leigh, simply because Taylor liked it, so it was familiar. And precious little had felt familiar to her since she’d started on this unplanned and unwanted voyage of hers.

The path to the cottage was much easier for her to negotiate today in loafers. She hoped that was an omen things were going to go more smoothly with Taylor, too.

Though something told her they wouldn’t.

She climbed up the porch stairs and knocked loudly so the kids would hear above the music. It took a few minutes for someone to come to the door. Unfortunately, it wasn’t Taylor.

Rather than invite her inside, Josh stepped out onto the landing, closed the door and positioned himself like a guard dog between her and the handle.

He had on jeans, and a tight T-shirt that emphasized his long, lean torso and the breadth of his shoulders. His expression held such a contradictory combination of vulnerability and strength, that for a second Leigh felt a long-forgotten yearning.

The innocence of first love. It really was a wonderful thing in a young person’s life.

But then she remembered what love could do to a young woman. She remembered, and she raised her chin high. “I’m here to speak to Taylor.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Hartwell.” Josh’s tone was respectful, but firm. “She doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Don’t tell me I can’t see my own daughter.” Why was he doing this? Was Taylor okay? She tried to step past Josh, and when she couldn’t, she called out over his shoulder. “Taylor? Are you in there? Are you all right?”

Josh frowned, his composure cracking. “Taylor’s fine.”

“Why am I not surprised to hear you say that? I’d like to see for myself. Or would you prefer I called the police?”

He shook his head. Gestured her toward the door. “Sorry, Taylor. I tried to tell her—”

“Taylor?” Leigh stepped into a room that smelled like freshly made toast. Her daughter sat at the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee in her hands. She was wearing a T-shirt on top. Leigh couldn’t see what she wore for bottoms.

At least she was safe.

But Leigh wasn’t encouraged by the mutinous gleam in her eyes.

“Honey, we need to talk. Could you come outside, please?” Leigh couldn’t be here in this house where…everything…had happened. No matter how she tried not to notice details—like her daughter’s blouse from yesterday flung on the back of the sofa—she noticed.

Boy, did she notice.

“There’s no point in talking, Mom. Josh and I are in love.”

Abruptly the music stopped. Josh must have turned the player off. He walked past, headed for the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup. Neither he nor her daughter offered Leigh any.

“Love. Taylor, how can you say that? You barely know one another.”

“I knew you wouldn’t understand. Josh and I have been e-mailing for a long time. I do know him and he knows me, too, better than anyone, even better than Kerry does. Or you.”

Her daughter’s words stung, the way they’d been meant to. Leigh’s friends always marveled at how close her relationship with her daughter was. Even during the churning adolescent years, they’d been able to talk, to enjoy time together.





Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Получить полную версию книги.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/c-j-carmichael-3/star-crossed-parents/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.