“Of course not. If we lived closer, you could meet Mica and Chris.” She wasn’t sure that was really the case. Setting herself up for disappointment was one thing; doing it to her children was another. But she didn’t want to argue.
“I bet if I was there, I could make you forget about the age difference.”
“No, you couldn’t.”
“I proved you wrong once. Should I come for a visit? See if I can do it again?”
Liz blinked in surprise. They often talked about their trip to Vegas and the possibility of another meeting. He’d been pressuring her to return to L.A. for a few days. But even though Dave had a cousin in Boise, this was the first time he’d ever mentioned venturing into her world.
She guessed that would be a little too much reality for both of them.
Knowing if she could just put him off now they’d probably never address the issue again, she said, “It’d be better to come in the winter when you’re not so busy at the club, wouldn’t it?”
“Winter is pretty far away.”
“Mommy?”
Liz spun around as if she’d just been caught doing something wrong. Christopher was standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. “What’s the matter, honey?”
“I can’t sleep,” he complained. “Will you lie down with me?”
Liz bit her lip. She wasn’t ready to end the conversation. But as she looked at her son’s sleepy face and thought of how quickly he was growing up, she knew what she needed to do. “I’ve gotta go,” she said into the receiver.
“Call me later?” Dave asked.
“Tomorrow,” she said and hung up.
CARTER HUDSON WAITED impatiently beneath the old-fashioned sign that identified Liz’s new store as a chocolaterie. He’d never heard of a chocolaterie, but she was the one who had to worry about making this business a success. His only problem was that he had to spend a whole day with her, which wasn’t going to be easy because she reminded him so much of Laurel.
He remembered the feel of Liz’s slim fingers, the flutter of the pulse at her wrist. When he’d touched her hand at the restaurant, he’d wanted to close his eyes, block out the restaurant and everyone else in it, and simply count the steady beat of her heart. How he craved just one more moment with Laurel, the chance to say goodbye…
He’d been too aggressive with Liz. But he didn’t care. The whole encounter had been illogical. Besides, he wasn’t planning on getting to know her in any meaningful way, so it didn’t matter. Which was good, because they weren’t off to a better start this morning. After dragging him out of bed at the crack of dawn, she was late. The only shops open this early were those that catered to the ranchers—the diner, the feed store, the hardware store and the old-fashioned doughnut shop.
Wishing he’d stopped for a cup of coffee, Carter wandered over to Belinda’s Bagels two doors down, then frowned at the sign in the window. The place didn’t open until eight. Evidently bagels, at least in Dundee, were a tourist item, and tourists typically didn’t venture into town until later in the morning.
He considered walking back to the doughnut shop—it was only a few blocks away—but ultimately decided not to. He’d grab a cup when the bagel shop opened. He’d need that coffee even more in a couple of hours. Last night he’d had another terrible nightmare. After jerking awake in a cold sweat, it had taken at least ten minutes to convince himself he’d just been dreaming.
Laurel…
The sudden, hollow ache in his chest nearly made him sick. He knew the pain would ease eventually. He’d had plenty of practice dealing with that. He just had to keep his mind occupied.
Dropping a quarter into the newspaper bin next to the curb, he removed a copy of the Dundee Weekly and sat down at one of three small outdoor tables. If Liz didn’t come in the next fifteen minutes, he was going to head home. Helping her finish the inside of her chocolate shop wasn’t actually in his job description. He would’ve said so the night before, but the supportive, helpful attitude of the people around here inspired him. Dundee was so different from the big city. So…rejuvenating.
He needed the change, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
Of course, the helpfulness he so often encountered here had a downside. It sometimes bordered on nosiness, even outright interference. But at least these folks typically meant well. At least they cared.
He gazed down the ribbon of street that split the small town in half. Would it have made a difference if he’d brought Laurel to a place such as this?
The question crept unbidden into his consciousness but, with some effort, he shoved it out of his mind. Second-guessing wouldn’t help. There was nothing more he could have done. And now he had no choice except to square his shoulders and face each new day as it came.
He shifted his attention to the newspaper and, slowly, the ache subsided. He found no stories of rape or murder. No missing persons. Nothing violent or ugly. The headline read Crab Feed Raises $10,000 for Schools. He couldn’t call the accompanying article riveting, but it was comforting to know that a crab feed could still be front-page news.
Laurel would’ve liked that….
Annoyed with himself, he made another attempt to control his thoughts by moving to the article directly below the one he’d already read.
City Council Bucks Rodeo Improvements
Is it time to improve the rodeo grounds? According to Councilwoman Foley, it is. But with Mayor Wells out of town, the council voted 3–2 last week against appropriating the necessary funds. Fortunately, the opportunity to make your opinion heard hasn’t been lost. The mayor is back and calling for another vote. If you’d like to see…
The beep of a horn brought up Carter’s head. Liz had arrived. At last.
Tucking the paper under his arm, he stood and waited for her to park.
Her keys rattled as she slipped them into her pocket and hurried over. Dressed in a red T-shirt, blue denim shorts, tennis shoes and a gray zip-up sweatshirt to ward off the morning chill, she’d pulled her long blond hair into a ponytail. She hadn’t bothered with makeup, but then she didn’t need any. Large hazel eyes watched him from above a narrow, well-defined nose and high cheekbones. As much as he hated to acknowledge it, she possessed a delicate sort of beauty. Like Laurel’s. But her mouth was all her own. Too expressive for a woman who looked so reserved and sophisticated, it added an accessible human touch to a face that, without it, might have almost appeared too perfect—more like white marble than flesh and bone.
“Have you been waiting long?” she asked as she approached him.
He sent her a pointed glance. “Since six.”
“Right. You were on time. Of course.” She cleared her throat and shifted a roll of blueprints from one arm to the other. “Sorry about that. I had trouble rousing Keith’s mother. She’d forgotten she agreed to get the kids off to school for me.”
“No problem.” Trailing her to the shop, he waited as she unlocked the door. Then he followed her inside to find the gutted remains of a retail establishment, which he knew from the conversation the night before, had previously been a barbershop. He eyed the well-worn floor, the freshly patched wall, the wheelbarrow in the corner. A door at the back led to what appeared to be another room. “Storage?” he asked, waving toward it.
“It used to be a small apartment, which the previous owner leased out. When we’re done it’ll be my kitchen and pantry.”
He rubbed his chin. “So we’re starting from scratch.”
“Basically.”