Jake frowned. Funny. He hadn’t really thought much about Maggie these last few years. Purposely. During the early years after their breakup, she’d haunted his thoughts day and night, the guilt growing inside him with each passing month. It was only in the last three or four years that he had met with some success in his attempts to keep thoughts of her at bay. So why was he thinking of her now? he wondered, his frown deepening.
His gaze strayed to the chocolate-chip cookies, wrapped in clear paper and tied with a ribbon, resting between the pillows on the bed. He’d noticed them earlier, had been impressed by the thoughtful touch. Maybe they had triggered thoughts of the woman he’d once loved, he reflected. She used to bake him chocolate-chip cookies—his favorite—he recalled with a bittersweet smile.
But Maggie was only a memory now, he reminded himself with a sigh. He had no idea what had become of her. She’d moved less than a year after their parting, breaking all ties with the town which held such unhappy memories for her. Even his parents, to whom she had always been close, had no idea where she went It was better that way, she’d told them. They understood. And he did, too. But though he’d initiated the breakup, he had nevertheless been filled with an odd sense of desolation to realize he no longer knew Maggie’s whereabouts. He didn’t understand why he felt that way. Didn’t even try to. What good would it do? All he could do was hope she was happy.
Jake walked over to the bed and picked up the cookies, weighing them absently in his hand. Here he was, in the honeymoon suite, with only memories of a woman he’d once loved to warm his heart. For a moment, self-pity hovered threateningly. Which was ridiculous, he rebuked himself impatiently. His solitary state was purely his own doing. He’d known his share of women through the years, even met a few who made him fleetingly entertain the idea of marriage. But that’s as far as it ever went. Because, bottom line, he’d never met anyone who touched his heart the way Maggie had.
He sat down in the chair and wearily let his head fall against the cushioned back. He’d never really admitted that before. But it was true. Maybe that was the legacy of a first love, he mused, that no one else ever measured up. Most people got over that, of course, moved on to meet someone new and fall in love again. He hadn’t. As a result, he’d never regretted his decision to remain unmarried. Until now. Suddenly, as he contemplated a future that consisted of a more “normal” land-bound existence instead of the nomadic life he’d been living, the thought of a wife and family was appealing. For the first time in years, he felt ready to seriously consider marriage—and fatherhood.
Of course, there was one little problem, he thought with a humorless smile. He hadn’t met the right woman.
Then again, maybe he had, he acknowledged with a sudden, bittersweet pang of regret, his smile fading. But it was too late for regrets. To be specific, twelve years too late.
“I mean, this guy is gorgeous!”
Abby looked at her sister and grinned as she scrambled some eggs. “Are you sure you’re not exaggerating?” she asked skeptically.
“Absolutely not” Allison peeked into the oven to check the blueberry muffins, then turned back to her twin. “Tall, handsome, dark hair, deep brown eyes. And you know what? I think he’s single.”
“Yeah?” Abby paused, her tone interested. “How old is he?”
Allison shrugged. “Old. Thirty-something, probably. But for an older guy, he’s awesome.”
“Let me serve him, okay?” Abby cajoled.
“Hey, I saw him first!” Allison protested.
“Yes, but you had your chance to talk to him last night. It’s my turn. That’s only fair, isn’t it, Aunt Maggie?”
Maggie smiled and shook her head. “You two are getting awfully worked up about someone who will be checking out in an hour or two.”
Allison sighed dramatically. “True. But we can dream, can’t we? Maybe he’s a rich tycoon. Or maybe he’s lost his beloved wife and is retracing the route they traveled on their honeymoon. Or maybe he’s a Hollywood producer scouting the area for a new movie. Or…”
“Or maybe you better watch those muffins before they get too brown,” Maggie reminded her with a nod toward the oven.
Allison sighed. “Oh, Aunt Maggie, you have no imagination when it comes to men.”
“I have plenty of imagination. Fortunately, I also have a good dose of common sense.”
“But common sense is so…so boring,” Allison complained.
“He just came in,” Abby reported breathlessly, peering through a crack in the kitchen door. She grabbed the pot of coffee before Allison could get to it, and with a triumphant “My turn,” sailed through the door.
Maggie smiled and shook her head. One thing for sure. There was never a dull moment with the twins. At eighteen, the world for them was just one big adventure waiting to happen. And she encouraged their “seize the moment” philosophy—within reason, of course. Because she knew that life would impose its own limitations soon enough.
When Abby reentered the kitchen a few minutes later, she shut the door and leaned against it, her face flushed.
“Well?” Allison prompted.
“Wow!”
“See? Didn’t I tell you? What’s he wearing?” Allison asked eagerly.
“A dark gray suit with a white shirt and a maroon paisley tie.”
“A suit? Nobody ever wears a suit here. He must be a business tycoon or something.”
“Sorry to interrupt with such a mundane question, but what does he want for breakfast?” Maggie inquired wryly.
“Scrambled eggs, wheat toast and orange juice,” Abby recited dreamily.
Maggie was beginning to regret that she’d missed this mysterious stranger’s arrival. But the church council meeting had run late, and their unexpected guest had apparently retired for the night by the time she arrived home. It was unusual for a younger, apparently single, man to stay with them. Most of their guests were couples. Maybe she ought to check this guy out herself, she thought, as she placed two of the freshly baked blueberry muffins in a basket. Just for grins, of course. It would be interesting to see how she rated this “older guy” the twins were raving about.
Maggie picked up the basket of muffins and a glass of orange juice and headed for the door. “Okay, you two, now the mature woman of the world will give you her expert opinion.”
The twins giggled.
“Oh, Aunt Maggie. You’ve never been anywhere but Missouri, Boston and Maine,” Abby reminded her.
Maggie felt a sudden, unexpected pang, but she kept her smile firmly in place. “True. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t had my romantic adventures.”
“When?” Allison demanded pertly.
When, indeed? There’d only been one romantic adventure in her life. And that had ended badly. But she’d never told the girls much about it Only when they reached the age when boys suddenly became fascinating and they’d begun plying her with questions about her own romantic past had she even mentioned it. And then only in the vaguest terms. Yes, it had been serious, she’d told them. In fact, they’d been engaged. But it just hadn’t worked out. And that was all they ever got out of her, despite their persistent questions. She never wanted them to know that it was because of their arrival in her life that her one romance had failed. They’d had a hard enough time adjusting to the loss of their parents; she never wanted to lay the guilt of her shattered romance on them, as well. And she wasn’t about