While she ate, she flipped on the portable television conveniently placed on the kitchen counter. The news didn’t pique her interest, and she hurried with her breakfast.
After showering, she dressed in shorts and a knit shirt and set up her laptop on a small desk in the bedroom. She checked the e-mail and answered a few messages that needed immediate attention. She picked up the file she’d gotten from Alma yesterday, but she was too restless to study it. The thought she’d been trying to stifle since she’d awakened finally thrust itself to the forefront of her mind.
Had she and Perry been given a second chance?
There was no use trying to follow her usual routine as if nothing had happened. As if the foundation of the secure life she’d spent years building hadn’t trembled yesterday when Perry had suddenly reentered her life. It had taken years for her to get over Perry. Not that she’d ever forgotten him and the love they’d shared, but she had reached the place when she didn’t think about him first thing when she opened her eyes in the morning. Sometimes several days could pass and she didn’t wonder where he was, and dreams about him had become less and less frequent.
What would their lives be like today if she hadn’t left Perry, or if she’d gone back to him and they’d married? Considering the wonderful man Perry had become, she believed he would have been a fine husband. If they’d gotten married, they could have had children now—children who would be starting college.
Lorene jumped when the phone rang. She leaned over and picked up the phone from the nightstand. Probably her parents checking on her, she thought, but it was Perry.
“Am I calling too early?” he asked.
“I’ve been up a long time. Remember, I’m a working woman—no sleeping in for me.”
“Mr. Kincaid has scheduled the meeting for seven o’clock in the commission’s office at the bank.”
“How many people are on the commission?”
“A dozen or so—usually only five or six show up for the meetings.”
“It’s way too late for me to take on this promotion deal. We should have been working with the commission for at least a year.”
Perry’s laugh was deep and warm. Lorene envisioned his eyes crinkling from mirth and his lips curving with humor. She groaned inwardly, remembering the laughter they’d once shared together.
“Remember you’re in small-town America now. Somebody comes up with a new idea every time we meet, and it was only two months ago that Mr. Kincaid decided to obtain professional promotion to put Woodston on the map. You can expect new ideas right up to the day of the celebration.”
She feigned a groan. “I’ll do the best I can, but I hope no one expects miracles.”
“What are your plans for today? I have some free time this afternoon if you want me to show you around town.”
Lorene hesitated. If she spent a lot of time with Perry, it would be more difficult for her when she left Woodston. She well remembered when she couldn’t get enough of his company and wanted to be with him all the time, but wasn’t she mature enough now to control her emotions? After all, she thought, I’m middle-aged! I certainly won’t be carried away like I was before.
“I’ll study the file Alma gave me this morning and check out the town after lunch. It would be a big help if you came along.”
Perry had noticed her hesitation and understood her reluctance, for he felt the same way. If he saw her frequently—and how could they avoid it when they’d be associated so closely?—they might be tempted to revisit painful emotional paths. But in the long hours of the night, when he’d reviewed the past and contemplated the future, he’d made up his mind that he couldn’t ask anything from Lorene except friendship.
“I’ll pick you up around two o’clock.”
Lorene laid the phone aside wondering how she could concentrate on her work responsibilities if she saw Perry every day. But she hadn’t become successful in the business world without exerting personal discipline, so she picked up the file folder and forced herself to read and study every plan the commission had in mind for Heritage Week—the culmination of Woodston’s celebration the last week in September.
Lorene had learned quite a lot about Woodston from her reading, but as Perry drove through the business district, he gave a running commentary of the town’s history.
“Woodston was founded two hundred years ago this month when western Kentucky was still a frontier. At first there wasn’t anything except a fort and a few outlying farmsteads, but after steamboats revolutionized river transportation, the town became an important shipping center. The Native Americans, the Shawnees, in particular, moved westward and Woodston started to grow. After the Civil War, the economy plummeted for years, but during World War II the town took on new life.”
Lorene held a small tape recorder in her palm and she pushed the off button. “You like it here, don’t you?”
“Very much. My childhood was spent in small towns—we moved several times as a boy. Father was a preacher in Iowa, so big-city life isn’t for me. I love working with the young people at college.” He didn’t add that association with the students eased his pain over the children he’d never had.
He drove out of town to Frontier Park, where a replica of a log fort was under construction. “The park is located on the site of the original fort,” he explained. “During Heritage Week several people will come down the river on flatboats for the opening ceremonies to reenact life in the early 1800s. They’ll live in the fort, wear period clothing and cook as the settlers did. Artisans will give daily demonstrations on making pioneer crafts.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“We want you to make all of this attractive to out-of-state groups, as well as snag the attention of schoolchildren in Kentucky and the adjoining states.”
“I’ll make phone and computer contacts tomorrow and persuade some of our bus-company clients to arrange tours,” Lorene answered, excitement stirring as it always did when she started a new project.
“The park covers thirty acres,” Perry said. He pointed to a shaft on a high point above the river. “Except for that monument, very little has been done to develop the area. The fort will be permanent, available as a tourist attraction after the celebration is over.”
“Is that path along the river suitable for running? I like to jog every day if possible, and I haven’t seen any other likely place.”
Perry’s eyes lit up. “You’re a runner? So am I.”
“I noticed you’re in good shape,” Lorene said, willing her eyes not to sweep hungrily over his muscular physique.
“I spend a lot of time in the office, and if I’m not careful, I put on too much weight. I don’t have opportunity for any other exercise, but I make time for running.”
“Then it’s safe for me to come out here alone.”
“Yes. Many people use the park. But I run here several times a week. You can come when I do.”
She lowered her eyes. “Don’t tempt me, Perry.”
“Why should it be a temptation?” He tilted her chin slightly, but hurriedly removed his hand as if the physical contact disturbed him. “We can’t ignore what happened between us. Why can’t we put it behind us and be friends? I’m happy you’ve entered my life again, and I want to see as much of you as possible.”
“That