Home To Wickham Falls
Rochelle Alers
THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME…Nothing could draw Sawyer Middleton back permanently to the town he left behind years before. Or so he thinks before he meets his sister's best friend. As soon as he matches wits with gorgeous, gregarious teacher Jessica Calhoun, Sawyer realises he's got a lot to learn about friendship…and love.Smart, savvy Jessica wants to grow old in Wickham Falls. Software engineer Sawyer has made it to the big city – and away from small-town life. And just like his ailing father, Sawyer's used to calling the shots. But can losing his heart make Sawyer realise that home is where the heart is…and that his heart is with Jessica?
There’s No Place Like Home...
Nothing could draw Sawyer Middleton back permanently to the town he left behind years before. Or so he thinks, before he meets his sister’s best friend. As soon as he matches wits with gorgeous, gregarious teacher Jessica Calhoun, Sawyer realizes he’s got a lot to learn about friendship...and love.
Smart, savvy Jessica wants to grow old in Wickham Falls. Software engineer Sawyer has made it to the big city—and away from small-town life. And just like his ailing father, Sawyer’s used to calling the shots. But can losing his heart make Sawyer realize that home is where the heart is...and that his heart is with Jessica for good?
“Women usually come here for dinner, but I’m willing to bet none are as beautiful as you.”
Jessica’s cheeks burned with the unexpected compliment. She lowered her eyes. “You’re biased because I’m your sister’s friend.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Jessica. My assessment of you has nothing to do with your association with my family. The first time I saw you I thought I’d conjured you up. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I kept thinking how naturally beautiful you are.”
Jessica met his luminous sapphire-blue eyes. “You do have a habit of staring.”
“I do when there’s something worth staring at.”
“You’re also quite kind on the eyes,” she countered in a soft voice.
Jessica bit down on her lip not to laugh aloud when she saw Sawyer’s shocked expression. “Did I embarrass you?” she asked when he glanced down at the table.
Sawyer’s gaze swung back to her. “No. It’s just that I didn’t expect you to come out with something like that.”
“Why not? You have to know what you look like.”
“What I look like is not the issue, Jessica.”
“What is?”
“Us.”
* * *
Wickham Falls Weddings:
Small-town heroes, bighearted love!
Home to Wickham Falls
Rochelle Alers
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Since 1988, national bestselling author ROCHELLE ALERS has written more than eighty books and short stories. She has earned numerous honors, including the Zora Neale Hurston Literary Award, the Vivian Stephens Award for Excellence in Romance Writing and a Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews. She is a member of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc., Iota Theta Zeta Chapter. A full-time writer, she lives in a charming hamlet on Long Island. Rochelle can be contacted through her website, www.rochellealers.org (http://www.rochellealers.org).
Home to Wickham Falls is dedicated to my editor, Megan Broderick.
Thank you for your patience and the wonderful chats that helped to breathe life into this story.
Contents
Cover (#ud52798f7-c4d3-549f-ac39-a0fcff3f45b1)
Back Cover Text (#u22cd231d-7f93-5b38-9f70-e0c23d375c68)
Introduction (#u58624bca-b83c-51ff-9971-9db2c49f4992)
Title Page (#u4840425d-a5f7-5e55-aba6-86bcd2287369)
About the Author (#u2577f9c0-87b3-5141-b190-72c43658407d)
Dedication (#uebf8541c-ca10-51ea-8398-6128d7941ad8)
Quote (#u63015a9c-a420-5472-9ae0-397522733a30)
Chapter One (#u694c507a-9437-5193-ac74-d28d0268414d)
Chapter Two (#u26a1c23a-dd77-5fd5-8b54-c722990aa5df)
Chapter Three (#u56a4b795-e7cb-5525-910e-6fa8873bb42a)
Chapter Four (#u39c9e794-6b1f-55a1-b6a8-b3bd64a3002a)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Better a dry crust with peace and quiet than a house full of feasting, with strife.
—Proverbs 17:1
Chapter One (#u8727dab3-af7d-55dd-ba4f-262f0004b6a5)
“With a show of hands, how many want to delay going public until after the summer?” Two of the three software engineers sitting at the table raised their hands along with Sawyer Middleton. “The ayes have it.” He saw the withering look Elena Ng-Fitzgerald gave her husband. Thom was the only one who hadn’t raised his hand, and they needed a majority vote to go from a privately held company to a public one.
If the decision of the majority of the partners had gone the other way, Sawyer had been mentally prepared to deal with the outcome of selling shares of their internet company.
He took a sip from an oversized mug filled with coffee. The meeting that began at six that morning was approaching the four-hour mark. He would have suggested breaking for a least an hour, but knew the other three did not want to lose their momentum. The meeting’s agenda focused on whether to take the software company public, and if not, then whether or not to go on hiatus while offering their employees the summer off with pay before starting up again after Labor Day.
The sixteen employees connected to the software company thought of themselves as an extended family, spending more time with one another than their own families. And it was normal for Sawyer to put in a seventy-hour workweek now that he was no longer dating.
His cell phone vibrated and he glanced at the number on the screen. A slight frown creased his forehead when he saw his sister’s number. Sawyer stood. “Sorry, guys, but I have to take this,” he said, picking up the phone. “What’s up, Rachel?” he asked quietly, as he walked out of the room.
“Dad had a heart attack last night. I’m at the hospital with him now.”
Sawyer sucked in a breath. “How is he?”
“The surgery was successful. He had two blocked arteries. Right now he’s in the ICU.”
Although he and Henry Middleton were like oil and water, Sawyer knew he had to be there, if not for his father, then for his mother and sister. “How’s Mom holding up?”
“She’s a mess, but she’s trying to keep it together for the boys. Colin and Dylan left yesterday afternoon for an overnight camping trip with their Boy Scout troop. They’re supposed to be back tonight around eight.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can book a flight.”
“Text me when you get to the hospital. And thanks, Sawyer.”
“There’s no need to thank me, Rachel. Even though Dad and I don’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of things, he’s still my father. I don’t want you or Mom to tell him I’m coming.” He ended the call and then returned to the conference room. “I have to go home. My father had a heart attack, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
Thom stood up. “Don’t worry about it, Saw. We’ve already delayed going public, and anyway we’re all going to take a break at the end of the month. I’m just sorry yours has to begin with a family emergency.”
One by one the others approached Sawyer, giving him a comforting pat on the back. Elena went on tiptoe and brushed a kiss on his stubble. “Go home and pack. I’ll call the travel agency and have Shirley schedule your flight and ground transportation. She’ll ring your cell as soon as everything is confirmed.”
Sawyer kissed her forehead. “Thanks, beautiful.” Elena blushed as she ducked her head.
“Let us know one way or the other about your father,” Darius said.
Sawyer forced a smile. “I will.”
* * *
Ninety minutes later Sawyer mounted the steps to the private jet at a New Jersey regional airport. He was one of a half-dozen passengers. The first stop was Charleston, West Virginia, where Sawyer would pick up a rental for the drive to Wickham Falls.
A flight attendant showed him to his seat. “As soon as we’re airborne lunch will be served. You’ll find the menu in the seat pocket.”
Sawyer flashed a polite smile. “Thanks, but I’m going to pass on lunch.”
He didn’t need food as much as he needed to sleep. It had been more than three years since he’d returned to Wickham Falls, and the day he walked out of the house where he’d grown up, his father forbade him to darken his door again. Sawyer experienced some guilt about staying away so long, despite his father’s mandate, because he missed seeing his mother, sister and nephews.
Sawyer closed his eyes as the jet taxied down the runway, and he didn’t open them again until they were airborne. Then he reclined his seat and fell asleep. It felt as if they had just lifted off when the pilot’s voice came throughout the cabin informing the flight crew to prepare for descent. The aircraft landed smoothly on a runway at the Charleston airport where a driver waited to take Sawyer to an area where he could pick up a rental car.
It was mid-May and his favorite time of the year in West Virginia. Everything was lush, and afternoon temperatures were warm enough for short sleeves. He stored his luggage in the back of the Jeep and drove south toward Wickham Falls. The familiar sight of mountains transported him back to his childhood, when he spent time fishing and swimming in a nearby lake and exploring Native American foot trails.
Sawyer had cherished every day, whether rain or shine, that his merchant-seaman father was out to sea. His mother hummed as she went about her housework, the house was filled with the mouth-watering aromas of baking cookies, and his younger sister and her girlfriends giggled uncontrollably at any-and everything. But that all changed the instant Henry came home.
An hour later he turned into visitor parking at the Johnson County Medical Center and sent Rachel a text that he was in the parking lot; seconds later she returned it indicating she was in the nurse’s lounge and would meet him at the front desk.
The instant Sawyer walked into the lobby and saw his sister he felt worse for not coming home sooner. She was thinner than the last time he saw her, and even at that time she could ill afford to lose weight. Her slight frame appeared lost in a pair of pink scrubs. And as he came closer he saw the dark shadows under her blue-gray eyes. Either she was working too hard or not getting enough sleep. He extended his arms and wasn’t disappointed when she moved into his embrace. Resting a hand on her back, Sawyer pressed a kiss to her mussed dark red hair.
“Hey, baby sister.”
Rachel Phelan smiled. “I didn’t expect you to get here until sometime tonight.”
“I was lucky to get a flight leaving this afternoon.”
Rachel gave Sawyer a lingering stare.
“Even though it’s not visiting hours I can get you up to see him. He probably won’t be able to talk because he’s been sedated.”
“I’ll see him when he’s alert.”
Rachel frowned. “Why can’t you forgive him for sending you away?”
“It’s not about forgiveness. He is who he is and I am who I am. I’ll stay until he’s medically cleared, then I’m going back to New York.”
“That may not be for several weeks.”
Resting a hand in the small of his sister’s back, he steered her toward the exit. “Then I’ll stay until he’s cleared.”
“Can you afford to stay away from your company for an extended period of time?”
Reaching for Rachel’s hand, Sawyer gave her fingers a gentle squeeze as he led her to the rental. “Have you forgotten I’m my own boss?”
Rachel nodded as she pulled her hand from his loose grip. “My car is in the employees’ lot. I volunteered to work a double tonight because the weekend neonatal nurse has a family emergency.”
“Leave it. I’ll drive you back in time for your shift. Besides, you look exhausted. When was the last time you had at least eight hours of sleep?” Sawyer asked.
Rachel closed her eyes for a few seconds. “I can’t remember. I come home to see the boys off to school, and then go to bed, but I don’t sleep well because sometime I can hear Dad and Mom fussing over nonsense.”
Opening the passenger-side door, Sawyer assisted Rachel up, and then slipped out of his jacket. “Do you want to leave?”
The seconds ticked as sister and brother stared at each other. “I don’t want to move to New York.”
“I’m not talking about New York. What if I help you buy a house here?”
Waiting until Sawyer rounded the Jeep and slipped behind the wheel, Rachel said, “No. I’m not going to borrow any more money from you.” She had moved out of the house she’d rented after her divorce and back in with her parents in order to make ends meet.
Punching the Start engine button, Sawyer shifted into gear. “Stop it, Rachel,” he admonished softly. “I’m fortunate enough to make a lot of money, and if I can’t help my sister and nephews then what good am I? I told you before, any money I give you, you don’t have to pay back.”
“I don’t want you to think of me as a charity case, Sawyer.”
Sawyer clamped his jaw tightly. He did not tell Rachel that he had set up custodial bank accounts in her sons’ names because he did not want her ex to slack off on his less-than-adequate child support payments. And he doubted whether he would ever have to pinch pennies. The four-story loft building had been his only big-ticket purchase. It was across the street from Enigma4For4; he occupied the two top floors and leased the two lower floors to an art gallery and an architectural design firm.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sawyer saw Rachel staring at him. “What’s the matter?”
“Are you dating anyone?”
He shook his head.
“What happened to that girl you saw for more than a couple of months?”
A derisive sneer twisted his mouth. “We broke up six months ago.”
“What happened?”
Sawyer’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “She wanted a baby and I told her I’m not ready to become a father.”
“When do you think you’re going to be ready? At forty? Or maybe fifty?”
“Very funny, Rachel.”
“I’m not trying to be funny. You’re thirty-three, and it seems as if you’re becoming more and more antimarriage. Do you even like women, other than to sleep with them?”
“I can assure you, little sister, that I like women a lot. Just not the ones who try to force me to do something I’m not ready to do.”
“So, you’re telling me if you met a woman you really like you’d marry her, like, yesterday?” She snapped her fingers.
“I’d have to do more than like her because I’d never marry a woman I didn’t love.”
“Are you saying there is the possibility that one of these days you’ll make me an auntie?” Rachel asked, smiling.
He returned her smile. “Maybe.”
“What aren’t you telling me, big brother?”
Sawyer sobered and concentrated on the road. He wanted to tell Rachel there was nothing to tell. He wasn’t dating anyone and he wondered whether he’d become too comfortable with his own company or just more discriminating.
“It’s going to be a while before I consider becoming a father.”
“How long is a while? And why wouldn’t you want to have children?”
A noticeable muscle twitched in Sawyer’s jaw when he clenched his teeth. “I didn’t say I don’t want children, it’s just that I don’t want to raise my kids like Dad.”
Rachel exhaled an audible breath. “Didn’t you say Dad is who he is and you are who you are? And that means you could never be like him.” She paused. “You should know he hasn’t been the same since you left The Falls.”
“And that means what?”
“That he’s mellowed. And when he barks at Mom she comes right back at him.”
Sawyer flashed a wide grin. “Wonders never cease. I figured after a while she’d get tired of being his doormat.”
“There are times when she’s like a junkyard dog barking at him and refusing to back down. She told me once she turned fifty-five she wasn’t taking it anymore.”
Although he avoided verbal confrontation, Sawyer would give anything to witness his mother standing up to her husband. “It looks as if you have company,” he said, as a late-model gray Ford Escape maneuvered into the driveway behind his father’s decades-old red pickup.
“That’s Jessica. She was the boys’ second grade teacher. She’s probably here to drop off the books I asked her to bring for their summer reading. Now that they’re going into middle school I don’t want them to lag behind.”
Sawyer pulled in alongside the SUV and shut off the engine. “I thought they were good students.”
“They’re above grade level in every subject but language arts. I preach until I’m blue in the face that they have to stop playing those darn computer games and read more.”
“That’s easy enough to fix. Use your parental controls,” Sawyer suggested. “I’ll...” His words trailed off when his nephews’ former teacher got out of her car and came around to the passenger-side door.
He was unable to pull his gaze away from the slender legs in sheer navy-blue stockings and matching silk-covered stilettos. His gaze moved up to a body-hugging sleeveless black dress ending at her knees, banded at the neckline and around a slightly flaring hem in the same shade as her footwear. Rachel was out of the rental and exchanging hugs with the young woman.
The brilliant afternoon sun glinted off Jessica’s black pixie-cut hairstyle, and when she turned to look at him Sawyer felt as if he had been punched in the gut. During his time in the military he’d seen countless beautiful women from every race and ethnic group, yet there was something about the woman smiling at him that made him feel like a gauche adolescent when he could not pull his gaze away from the perfection of the round brown face with large dark eyes, an enchanting button-like nose and generously curved lips outlined in a glossy red-orange lipstick. Her features were reminiscent of a delicate doll’s, and there was something about her face that reminded him of a darker version of Salma Hayek. His movements were robotic as he stepped out of the vehicle, unaware he had been holding his breath until he felt the constriction in his chest.
Looping an arm through Jessica’s, Rachel met Sawyer’s eyes. “Sawyer, I’d like you to meet Jessica Calhoun.”
Jessica’s smile grew wider as she extended her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Rachel talks about you all the time.”
Sawyer took the proffered hand. Everything about her was sensual, including her perfume, along with her sultry voice. “I hope the talk has been more good than bad.”
There was beat, then Jessica said, “She adores you.”
His gaze swung to Rachel who appeared embarrassed as evidenced by the blush suffusing her cheeks. “And I adore her.”
“May I have my hand back please?” Jessica whispered, smiling.
Sawyer had forgotten he was still holding on to her hand. “Sorry about that,”
“I’m sorry to hear about your father.”
He inclined his head because he didn’t have a comeback. If his father had not had a heart attack Sawyer doubted he would have ever returned to Wickham Falls as long as Henry Middleton was alive.
Jessica turned, opened her SUV’s passenger-side door, scooped up the canvas bag resting on the seat and handed it to Rachel. “These are the books for Dylan and Colin. Sawyer, if you don’t mind, could you please get the picnic hamper from the cargo area?”
“No problem.” He walked to the rear of the vehicle and, grasping the handles on the covered wicker hamper, lifted it easily. “Where do you want this?”
“You can take it into the house.”
“What did you bring?” Rachel asked Jessica.
“I decided to make a few dishes for your mother. With your dad in the hospital I figured she’s not going to have a lot of time cooking for the family.”
Rachel glared at Jessica. “You didn’t have to do that,” she chided sotto voce.
A slight frown settled between Jessica’s eyes. “Please, Rachel. Don’t start. I told your mother about it. If I can’t help out friends in a family crisis then I’m not much of a friend. I only came by to drop off the books and the food. I have to head out now or I’ll be late for the retirement dinner. Nice meeting you, Sawyer,” she called out as he headed for the house.
Sawyer stopped, turned and flashed a warm smile at the same time he hoisted the hamper to a shoulder. “Nice meeting you, too.” He was still standing in the same spot when Jessica drove away.
“Be careful, brother. You were staring at Jessica like a deer caught in the headlights,” Rachel teased.
“That’s because she’s stunning,” he replied, walking toward the house, Rachel following.
“I thought you were partial to tall, skinny blondes. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve never known you to date women from other races.”
“You are wrong. Since living in New York I’ve dated women across racial and ethnic lines.”
Rachel gave him a sidelong glance. “You’ve really changed.”
Sawyer opened his mouth to tell his sister that he really had not changed that much when the front door opened and his mother stepped out onto the porch. He knew his absence had impacted his mother more than Rachel or even his nephews because Mara Middleton told him that she sometimes cried after their telephone conversations ended. Those were the times when he had to force himself not to leave New York to return to his hometown. But now he was back to reconcile his past and make peace with his father. Even if it meant groveling, he would put aside his pride to make it a reality.
Taking long strides, he mounted the steps to the porch, set the hamper on a table and swept his mother up in his arms. Except for a few more silver strands in her dark hair, Mara Middleton hadn’t changed much.
“How long are you staying?” Mara asked.
Sawyer kissed her forehead. “How long do you want me to stay?”
Mara eased back, her smoky-gray eyes filling with tears. “You’re not playing with me, are you?” she asked.
He kissed her again, this time on both cheeks. “No, Mom. I’m not playing with you. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
Her arms tightened around his neck. “What I’d really like is for you to move back to Wickham Falls.”
He would spend as much time needed to reunite and hopefully heal his fractured family, and when it came time for him to return to New York it would not be with the heavy heart he’d felt more than three years before. “Moving back is not an option, but I’m willing to stay for the summer.”
Mara pushed against her son’s shoulder. “I suppose the summer is better than nothing. Now, please put me down so I can get a good look at you. FaceTiming isn’t the same as seeing you in person.” She rested a hand along his jaw. “You look good, son.” She stroked the curling strands on his nape.
“So do you,” Sawyer countered. He hadn’t lied to his mother. The stress and turmoil of attempting to maintain a peaceful household had not taken a toll on her pretty face. He stared over her head, frowning. He rocked back and forth when the porch’s floorboards moved under his weight. He also noticed a few shutters had come loose from their fastenings and all were in need of a new coat of paint. “Why does this place look so run-down?”
Mara’s eyelids fluttered. “We’ll talk about that later. Let’s go inside and put away the food Jessica brought over. She volunteered to cook for us because she knew Rachel and I said we were going to take turns hanging out at the hospital until Henry’s discharged.”
His strained expression was replaced by astonishment. “She would do that?”
“Have you been away so long that you’ve forgotten that folks in The Falls look out for one another?”
Sawyer forced a smile. “I suppose you can say I have.”
Coming home this time would be different than when had been honorably discharged from the army. Then he had planned to stay and put down roots in his hometown. However, the constant warring between himself and his father had made that impossible.
Mara opened the screen door, holding it ajar as he picked up the hamper and walked back into the house he’d sworn he would never reenter.
Chapter Two (#u8727dab3-af7d-55dd-ba4f-262f0004b6a5)
Sawyer set the hamper on a bench in the corner of the immaculate kitchen. It had been updated during his absence. New kitchen appliances had replaced old and brand-new flooring had been exchanged for worn tiles. “I’m going back to the car to get my bags.”
“I hope you don’t mind, the boys are now in your old bedroom,” Mara said. “I had Henry take your bed up to the attic once Rachel moved back. We also put in a bathroom with a vanity, commode and shower because I thought the boys would want to sleep up there. But they much prefer your room because it’s large enough for twin beds.”
Sawyer gave his mother a tender smile. “It doesn’t matter where I sleep, Mom.”
Mara returned his smile. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
“Go bring your bags in. You can eat while I make up your bed.”
“I do know how to make up a bed, Mom.”
“I know you do, Sawyer,” she countered. “I just need to keep busy.”
“What you need to do is relax. Once Dad is given a clean bill of health the two of you need to go away for an extended vacation.”
“That’s not going to happen until we make repairs to the outside of the house.”
Now Sawyer knew why the exterior was in disrepair. His father didn’t like loans, and he waited until he saved enough money to pay for an earmarked project. Sawyer left the kitchen through a side door. Although Henry had sailed to ports all over the world, his wife had yet to travel out of the country. She occasionally went to see her twin sister in Ohio but that wasn’t what Sawyer deemed a vacation. If Henry had mellowed, as Rachel claimed, then Sawyer would try and convince him to take his wife away for a little R & R for their upcoming thirty-fifth wedding anniversary.
Sawyer removed his bags from the Jeep’s cargo area and returned to the house. Within seconds of walking into the kitchen he inhaled aromas that reminded him of how long it had been since he’d eaten. “Something smells delicious.”
“I just reheated Jessica’s baked chicken in the microwave,” Mara said as she ladled a spoonful of potato salad onto the plate with the chicken and a slice of cornbread. “I don’t know what she uses to season it, but I could eat her chicken every day.”
Sawyer washed his hands in the small bathroom off the kitchen, a ritual he’d followed since childhood. Rachel entered the kitchen as he sat at the table. She’d changed out of her scrubs and into a pair of shorts and baggy T-shirt.
“Do you want me to fix you a plate, too?” Mara asked her daughter.
“No, thanks,” Rachel replied, peering at the labeled containers on the table. “I grabbed a bite at the hospital. I just came down to tell you I’m going to bed and locking my door so the boys don’t barge in.”
“Don’t worry, sis, I’ll make certain they won’t bother you.”
Wrapping her arms around Sawyer’s neck, Rachel dropped a kiss on his hair. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”
He patted her hand. “Believe it.”
Sawyer could not believe it, either. His mind was flooded with wonderful memories of himself and Rachel sitting at the kitchen table enjoying an afternoon snack before doing homework while Mara busied herself making dinner. It was the good memories rather than the disturbing ones that kept him from totally despising his father.
He cut into a piece of chicken and popped it into his mouth. “Oh, my goodness! This chicken is incredible!”
Mara gave him a knowing smile. “Now you know what I’m talking about.”
Hard-pressed not to moan out his pleasure while savoring the most delicious baked chicken he had ever had, Sawyer concentrated on finishing the food on his plate. It appeared Jessica was the total package. She had looks, brains and she could cook! Although he considered himself a modern man with passable culinary skills, he still preferred women with the ability to put together a palatable meal.
There was something about Jessica that intrigued Sawyer, and he didn’t need his sister’s assistance as a go-between to get to know her. The odds were in his favor that their paths would cross again.
* * *
Jessica had been driving for ten minutes when her attention shifted from the road to the navigation screen as Rachel’s number appeared. She tapped the Bluetooth feature on the steering wheel. “Yes!” she answered cheerfully.
“I can’t believe you made so much food.” Rachel’s voice came clearly through the speaker. “When did you find the time to make potato salad and potpies?”
“It’s not that much food. I had leftover chicken, so instead of making a salad I decided to make potpies because they’re Colin and Dylan’s favorites.”
Every day of the school year she devoted to a particular task. Saturdays were set aside for cleaning the house and cooking enough meals for the entire week. Although she lived alone and at thirty-one hadn’t had a serious relationship in years, there was never a time when she experienced bouts of loneliness. And now that she’d rescued a black-and-white bichon frisé–poodle mix from a shelter, the house was filled with barking.
Rachel’s voice broke into her musings when she said, “You spoil my boys so much that one of these days I’m going to drop them on your doorstep with a note that you can keep them for the summer vacation.”
Jessica chuckled softly. “That’ll work. I’ll teach them how to grow their own food. And I’m certain they’ll enjoy playing with Bootsy.”
There was a noticeable pause from Rachel before she said, “I know you get tired of hearing it, and you’ve told me more than once that I’m a busybody, but it’s time you think about getting married so you can have a couple of babies and stop spoiling other folks’ kids.”
“You know that’s not going to happen until I meet a man I can trust enough to fall in love with him. Besides, I have a baby who wakes me up every morning while demanding all my attention the moment I walk through the door.”
“I’m not going to fight with you when I say a dog cannot replace—”
“Then don’t!” Jessica retorted angrily. A swollen silence filled the car. “I’m sorry, Rachel. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You know why I don’t trust men, so if I really want to become a mother then I’ll adopt.” She drove over a railroad crossing.
“There has to come a time when you have to forgive and forget about the folks who blamed you for testifying against the man who raped your college roommate.”
“You sound like my former therapist.”
Rachel’s laugh came through the speakers. “That’s because we’re each other’s therapist.”
She and Rachel had become each other’s sounding boards and confidantes after Rachel volunteered as a class mother. Once Dylan and Colin were promoted to the third grade, Jessica bonded with their mother. “You’re right, Rachel. But sometimes it’s hard to forget that the man that I loved beyond belief and was engaged to marry blamed me for ruining his best friend and fraternity brother’s life.”
“If he chose his frat brother over you, then you’re better off without him.”
“I know that now.”
“I’ve learned to forgive Mason for not being here for me and our children, because whenever I look at my boys I see him in them. But it wasn’t until after I divorced him that I realized I could make it on my own.”
Signaling, Jessica maneuvered onto the road leading to the interstate. This year, with a dozen teachers retiring, the district had decided to hold the farewell festivities at a hotel a mile off the West Virginia Turnpike. “You have made it, Rachel.”
“Not completely.”
“Why would you say that?”
“I don’t want you to breathe a word of this to anyone, not even my mother, but Sawyer sends me money every month to supplement what Mason sends for child support. I was able to catch up on my bills, pay credit cards and put money into my savings account for the proverbial rainy day. When I tried to talk to him about sending me so much, he says discussing money is gauche.”
“I agree.” Jessica had gone to a prestigious all-girl boarding school, and she’d grown tired of some of her classmates’ bragging about how much money their families had.
“If that’s the case, then you and my brother will get along quite well. Speaking of Sawyer, you’ll probably get to see quite a bit of him because he told my mother he plans to be here until Labor Day. Once Colin and Dylan discover their uncle will be here for the summer they’re going to be as happy as pigs in slop.”
A hint of a smile softened Jessica’s mouth. Her former students weren’t the only ones looking forward to summer vacation, because she’d begun counting the days to the end of the school year. “Good for them. I’m really looking forward for summer break. This year my students have worked my last nerve.”
“No! Not Miss Calm-and-Collected Calhoun.”
Jessica made a sucking sound with her tongue and teeth. “I’ve never before taught a group of students where none of them get along for more than a few hours. It’s like witnessing a reenactment of the Hatfields and McCoys.”
“Damn-m-m,” Rachel drawled.
“No. It’s double damn, because detention or sending them to the principal’s office doesn’t seem to work.”
“I had no idea your students were giving you that much trouble.”
“I suppose I can’t have it easy every year.”
Jessica was also looking forward to the summer because she would spend it in Wickham Falls instead of visiting her parents in Seattle, Washington. Her retired college-professor parents had decided to drive up the coast and tour Alaska for the months of June and July.
“I’m going to hang up now and try to get some sleep.”
“Call me and let me know when your father can have visitors.”
“That probably won’t be until he’s out of ICU.”
“That’s okay. Talk to you later.”
“Later,” Rachel replied.
Jessica disconnected the Bluetooth and then tapped a button for the satellite radio. Instead of her favorite station featuring R & B oldies, she selected one with Rock classics. Bon Jovi’s “Living on a Prayer” blared throughout the vehicle. The heavy baseline beat put her in a party mood. Twenty minutes later she left her car with valet parking and walked into the hotel. She almost didn’t recognize the middle school’s physical education teacher in a dress and heels, because sweats and running shoes doubled as her ubiquitous school uniform.
Three teachers with whom she’d formed a close bond walked into the lobby together. They greeted her with hugs and air kisses while complimenting her on her dress and shoes. It was on very rare occasions Jessica was seen in a dress and heels, which did not lend themselves to teaching second graders.
Once a month Jessica got together with Abigail Purvis, Beatrice Moore and Carly Adams—pre-K, kindergarten and first-grade teachers—for a girls’ night out. They alternated eating at her home or in one of the local restaurants before driving to the next town to bowl.
“Let’s go in before they run out of the good stuff,” said Beatrice, who was the most outspoken of the quartet.
Jessica led the way into the ballroom crowded with school board members, administrators, faculty and staff. She took a flute of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter. The noise was deafening from laughter and those calling out to one another as glasses were raised in celebratory toasts. She had many more years of teaching ahead of her before she put in for retirement. Her eyes met the high school’s science teacher as he wended his way toward her.
“When do you think we’ll be able to get together to write another grant for the tech lab?” Logan Fowler asked Jessica.
She and Logan chaired the committee that applied for grants to benefit the school district. “Are you available this summer?”
A slight frown furrowed Logan’s smooth forehead. “I thought you were going to the West Coast.”
During the last committee meeting she had announced she was going to spend the summer in Seattle. “That was before my parents decided they were going to drive up to Alaska.”
“I’d like to get a head start on it as soon as possible because I probably won’t have much time outside of classes once the new term begins,” Logan replied. “I’m also going to be out of the country the month of July. If it’s all right with you, I wouldn’t mind starting on it next weekend.”
When it had come time for Jessica to cochair the committee, she had proposed the district solicit funding for a new technology lab for the elementary and middle schools. “Next weekend is okay with me. We can meet at my place.” He leaned closer and kissed her cheek.
Jessica smiled. “By Monday morning it will be all over The Falls that Miss Calhoun is hooking up with Mr. Fowler.”
“Let them talk,” he whispered.
It was apparent Logan hadn’t wanted to disclose the details of his personal life. She had known him to be a very private person until one day he inadvertently mentioned he was going to Paris to visit his girlfriend during spring break.
“Is there something I should know about you and Mister Beautiful?” a familiar voice whispered behind her once Logan was out of earshot. Turning around Jessica glared at the district’s nurse.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hattie.” That said, Jessica walked away to eat something to counter the effects of the champagne. She had no intention of discussing her personal life with the woman who probably would put her own spin on anything she said. The Johnson County School District was akin to a small town where gossip spread like a lighted fuse attached to dynamite.
Jessica ignored curious stares as she nibbled on several appetizers. The cocktail hour ended and the waitstaff ushered everyone into the larger ballroom. The retirees were seated on the dais, wearing corsages and boutonnieres in the school’s colors. Collectively the twelve had logged nearly four hundred years of educating young people. Jessica could imagine herself sitting on the dais in twenty-four years. She planned to teach for thirty years, retire at age fifty-five and travel around the world. Once she returned to the States she would begin her longtime dream of writing a series of children’s books.
Chapter Three (#u8727dab3-af7d-55dd-ba4f-262f0004b6a5)
Sawyer did not get to see his nephews until Sunday morning. The bus traveling from the campground had blown a tire and the Scouts had to wait more than three hours for a replacement vehicle. The Scout leader called parents to inform them their sons would be dropped off sometime around midnight. Meanwhile, he had driven Rachel to the hospital for her eleven o’clock shift and by the time he got back to the house Mara had put her exhausted grandsons to bed.
He was lounging in the kitchen enjoying his second cup of coffee when the boys walked in together. They had grown at least a foot in the three years since he last saw them in person, and although they were fraternal twins, the resemblance between them was remarkable the older they became. It was Dylan who noticed him first, his eyes widening in shock as Sawyer stood up.
“Uncle Sawyer?”
“What’s up, champ?”
Colin, galvanized into action, raced across the kitchen and launched himself at his uncle. “You came back!”
Sawyer picked up the gangly boy. Dylan was slower reacting as he walked over to join his brother, and Sawyer scooped him up with his free arm, cradling them as he had done when they were younger.
“You’re both too heavy to pick up together.” Sawyer set Colin on his feet, then Dylan. “How was your overnight camping trip?”
“It was awesome, Uncle Sawyer,” Colin answered. “We made a campfire, roasted marshmallows and slept in a tent.”
“Some of the boys were scared when they thought they heard wolves, but not me and Colin,” Dylan added, his voice rising in excitement.
Sawyer smiled. “It was probably coyotes.” He stared at the two boys who were almost an exact image of their father: dark blond hair, hazel eyes and cleft chin. It was impossible for Rachel to forget her ex-husband whenever she looked at their children.
Colin glanced around the kitchen. “Where’s Grandma and Grandpa?”
“Grandma took Grandpa to the hospital so the doctor could check his heart.”
“Is there something wrong with his heart?” Dylan asked.
“He was having pains in his chest. He’ll probably be there for a few days before they say he’s okay to come home.”
The two boys exchanged a look. “Is that why you came home, Uncle Sawyer?” Colin asked. “Because Grandpa’s heart is sick?”
Sawyer paused. Either he could fabricate a lie or tell the truth, and he decided on the latter. “Yes, Colin. I came home because Grandpa’s heart is sick, and I also want to be here for you, Dylan, your mother and grandmother.”
“How long are you going to stay?” Dylan questioned.
“How long do you want me to stay?” he countered.
“Forever!” the twins chorused.
A smile found its way across Sawyer’s features as he stared at expressions of expectation on his nephews’ faces. “Nothing is forever, but I promise that I’ll stay until August when you have to go back to school.” He glanced at the clock on the microwave. “It’s too late for church, so do you want to go to Ruthie’s for brunch?”
“Yes!” the twins chorused.
“Put your shoes on and brush your hair.”
Ruthie’s was a Wickham Falls family favorite. The restaurant offered an all-you-can-eat buffet from eight to eight, seven days a week.
Sawyer placed his mug in the dishwasher and then retreated to his bedroom to slip into a pair of running shoes. He had slept soundly in the converted attic. Scooping up his keys, money clip, credit card case and cell phone off the nightstand, he headed downstairs and met Colin and Dylan as they raced down the staircase in front of him.
“I’m riding shotgun!” Colin shouted.
“Neither of you are riding shotgun,” Sawyer warned. “You’ll ride in the back and wear seat belts. Don’t give me that look, Dylan. You guys know when you ride with me you never sit up front.”
The two boys, realizing they weren’t going to get one over on their uncle, climbed into the rear seats and buckled their seat belts. Sawyer slipped behind the wheel. Staring at the rearview screen on the dash, he backed out of the driveway. He concentrated on the road and knew he couldn’t avoid the inevitable. After brunch he planned to see his father.
* * *
Jessica waited on line to get a table at Ruthie’s. She usually attended her church’s early service, but she had gotten up later than usual.
It was now one o’clock and the popular family-style restaurant was nearly filled to capacity.
“Miss Calhoun.”
Jessica glanced over her shoulder when she heard the childish voice. There weren’t too many places she could go in Wickham Falls where a student or their parents did not recognize her. She noticed Sawyer standing behind his nephews. There was something in the way he stared at her that made her slightly uncomfortable—but not in a bad way. His gaze lingered on her face before slowly moving lower and coming back to meet her eyes.
She smiled at her former students.
“Hello, Dylan.” She glanced over at his brother. “How are you, Colin?”
Colin lowered his eyes. “Good.”
Her gaze met and fused with Sawyer’s penetrating indigo-blue eyes. “Good afternoon, Sawyer.” There was a charming roughness about him she found appealing. A lean jaw and strong chin that accentuated a pair of high cheekbones made for an arresting face. She also noticed red streaks in his shoulder-length dark brown hair.
Why, she wondered, did she sound so breathless? Maybe it had something to do with the number of times Rachel had talked about her brother. Jessica had to admit he was good-looking, but his looks definitely weren’t enough to make her heart beat a little too quickly. Although she liked men, she had a problem trusting them.
Sawyer inclined his head, a hint of a smile tugging at one corner of his firm mouth. “Good afternoon, Jessica. Are you waiting for anyone?”
“No. Why?”
“If we sit together we’ll get seated faster than if you wait for a table for yourself.”
Jessica knew he was right. There were very few tables with seating for two. “Okay.”
She watched Sawyer walk to the front of the line to get the hostess’s attention, and then return and beckon for his nephews to move ahead of the others standing in line. Jessica went completely still when she felt Sawyer’s hand at the small of her back. Everything about him—his heat, the lingering scent of his aftershave and his touch seeped into her, bringing with it a quickening of her breathing. “Tricia has a table for us,” he said in her ear.
Holding on to Colin’s hand, Jessica steered him toward the hostess’s podium, ignoring the angry stares from those still waiting in line. Sawyer paid the prix fixe for two adults and two children. Seconds later a waiter directed them to a table in the middle of the restaurant.
She leaned close to Sawyer. “I’ll take Colin and help him select what he wants.”
“I’ll wait until you get back, then I’ll take Dylan.”
Sawyer sat at the table with Dylan, his gaze fixed on Jessica holding a plate as Colin pointed at what he wanted to eat. A pair of cropped stretch khaki slacks, foam-green blouse and black leather mules had replaced the sexy outfit she wore the night before. He found Jessica’s face mesmerizing, with or without makeup, and he forced himself not to stare at the curve of her hips in the body-hugging pants.
Dylan patted his uncle’s arm. “I’m hungry, Uncle Sawyer.”
He ruffled the boy’s hair. “As soon as Colin and Miss Calhoun come back it will be our turn to go up.”
“They’re taking too long.”
“Try and be patient, Dylan.”
“I can’t be patient when I’m hungry because my stomach is talking too loud.”
“You can tell your stomach to stop talking because they’re coming back now.”
Dylan popped up from his chair and raced over to the buffet counter. Sawyer winked at Jessica when she returned to the table with her plate and Colin’s. Sawyer helped Dylan make his selections, while he decided on chicken-fried steak with white gravy, mashed potatoes, fluffy biscuits and sweet tea. He was back in the South and the food on his tray made him feel as if he had really come home.
“I’ll go and get the drinks,” Jessica said as he set his plate on the table.
“We’ll go together. You need to let me know when you’re going to be home so I can return your picnic hamper,” he said as he filled two glasses with milk.
Jessica gave Sawyer a sidelong glance. “I don’t have to be home for you to bring it back. You can either leave it at the front door or on the patio.”
“And let coons or some other critter get into it?”
“You heard about that?”
“Yep. My mother said she has a problem with raccoons trying to get into the garbage bins. She claims she saw a few during the daylight hours, which means they’re probably rabid. Have you been bothered with them?”
“I haven’t seen any.” Jessica added a splash of cream in her coffee. “I keep Bootsy inside, and whenever I take him out I make certain to carry pepper spray.”
“You walk a cat?”
“Bootsy is a dog, not a cat.”
“Who ever heard of a dog named Bootsy? What happened to Bruno or even Bruiser?”
“He’s too small to be a Bruno or Bruiser.”
He wanted to tell Jessica he was only teasing. “I’m sorry,” he called out as she turned, heading back to their table.
“No, you’re not,” she said, not bothering to give him a backward glance.
He quickened his step. “Yes, I am. I apologize for insulting Bootsy.”
Dylan took the glass of milk from Sawyer. “Uncle Sawyer, you have to meet Bootsy. He’s a cool dog. Right, Colin?”
“Yep,” his twin agreed. “Can you please buy us a dog, Uncle Sawyer? We asked Momma but she said she doesn’t have the money.”
Jessica leaned closer to Sawyer, her shoulder touching his. “See what you’ve started?” she whispered.
He turned his head, his mouth only inches from Jessica’s. At that moment he wanted to kiss her. Not a long, lingering kiss but a mere brushing of lips. Time appeared to have stood still as he found himself caught in a maelstrom of hypnotic longing. He did not want to believe he was thinking of kissing his sister’s friend in a public place and in front of his nephews.
“We’ll talk about that later.”
“When later?” Dylan asked.
Sawyer stared at the boy. “I have to talk to your mother first. If she says yes, then we’ll contact a breeder and go look for a puppy.” He knew Rachel had the money to buy a dog, and suspected she didn’t want the responsibility of taking care of the animal once the excitement of having a pet faded for her sons.
“My dog is a rescue from a puppy mill.” Jessica peered at Sawyer over the rim of her coffee cup. “There are too many dogs in shelters waiting for good homes. And if they’re not adopted, then they’ll be put down. I’m seriously thinking of getting another rescue as a companion for Bootsy.”
Picking up his knife and fork, Sawyer cut into his steak. When he was his nephews’ age he had begged his mother for a dog and most times Mara had had to take care of his pet when he stayed for after-school sports.
“Can I go back for seconds?”
Colin’s question broke into Sawyer’s musing. “Take your brother with you. And this time try to put something green on your plate.” The two boys bolted from the table and dodged diners carrying plates overflowing with food. “How often do you come here?” he asked Jessica.
She touched her napkin to the corners of her mouth. “No more than once or twice a month. I really prefer cooking for myself.”
“That’s because you are an incredible cook. Who taught you?”
“My grandmother was an art teacher turned caterer and I used to watch her whenever she prepared for a party. What’s incredible is that she never had any professional training. Folks would ask for her recipes, but she refused, saying they were family secrets.”
“I guess that means you’re not going to tell me what seasonings you use on your chicken.”
Jessica closed her eyes while affecting a sexy smile. “You guess right.”
Sawyer wanted to scream at Jessica not to do that. It was as if she was inviting him to kiss her. He continued to stare at her mouth. “You’re tight with Rachel, so that should act as brownie points when it comes to you thinking of us as family.”
Jessica rested her left hand on Sawyer’s right. “Nice try.”
He decided to try another approach. He didn’t want to know her family secrets as much as he wanted to know about the woman who seemingly had charmed his family. “How long have you lived here?”
“I moved to The Falls two years ago. Before that I lived in Beckley.”
“Beckley is less than a half hour’s drive from here.”
“I know,” Jessica agreed, “but I got tired of renting. There were a few houses on the market but most of them were out of my price range. Then I discovered a foreclosed property over on Porterfield Lane. I negotiated with the bank to buy it, but only if they approved a home improvement loan, and as they say, the rest is history.”
“Good for you.” Jessica did not know she had just gone up several more points with Sawyer. It was obvious she was quite the businesswoman. Not only was she beautiful, but she was also feminine and intelligent. The winning combination was something he’d found missing in some of the women he had dated. He had come back to Wickham Falls to reunite with his family, but making friends with his sister’s friend was definitely a plus. Dylan and Colin returned with dishes of lime gelatin and frozen yogurt covered with chocolate syrup and colorful sprinkles. “You said get something green,” Colin stated proudly when Sawyer stared at the shaky dessert.
“That I did,” he said under his breath, while ignoring Jessica’s smug grin. It definitely was a gotcha moment.
She pushed back her chair and he stood up at the same time. “I have to leave now. Thank you for brunch.”
“Miss Calhoun, can we come see Bootsy?”
Jessica pointed to her mouth and Colin picked up a napkin to wipe the chocolate syrup staining his. “If your uncle Sawyer wants to take you with him when he brings back the picnic hamper, then you and your brother can come and play with Bootsy.”
Dylan popped a cube of gelatin into his mouth. “Please, Uncle Sawyer.”
Sawyer shook his head. “Do I have a choice?”
“No!” Jessica and the twins said in unison.
“What day is good for you?” Sawyer asked.
“Next Saturday.”
Reaching for his cell phone, Sawyer programmed the event into his calendar. “What time?”
“Come any time after noon. And because it’s a holiday weekend, I plan to cook outdoors, weather permitting. If you don’t have anything planned, then you’re welcome to join me and a few of my friends.”
He flashed a Cheshire cat grin. “If that’s the case, then I’ll see you soon.”
She waved to her former students. “Don’t forget to read for at least thirty minutes a day.” The brothers lowered their heads, pretending interest in their dessert.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Sawyer stared at Jessica until she disappeared from his line of sight before retaking his seat. His sister, mother and nephews liked her, and after spending less than an hour with Jessica he also liked her—a lot. “Are you guys finished eating?”
Colin patted his belly over his T-shirt. “I could eat some more but I don’t want a tummy ache.”
“That means you’ve had enough. Let’s go, champs.”
“Where are we going?” Dylan asked.
“Home where you guys can hang out with a book.”
He left a tip on the table for the waitress and escorted Colin and Dylan out of the restaurant. When he’d suggested eating at Ruthie’s he had not expected to see Jessica there. Waiting until both boys were seated and belted in, he started up the Jeep and maneuvered out of the crowded parking lot. He had come back to Wickham Falls to reconnect with his family, not to fall under the spell of a woman.
Chapter Four (#u8727dab3-af7d-55dd-ba4f-262f0004b6a5)
Sawyer retrieved a visitor’s pass from the front desk at the county hospital and took the elevator to the second floor. The numbers on the wall indicated his father’s room was down the hallway on his right. He walked in and stopped when he saw a nurse at his father’s bedside.
She glanced up and flashed a polite smile. “Could you please step outside, sir? I’ll be finished in a few minutes.”
He retreated, leaning against a wall in the immaculate wing dedicated to cardiac patients. Mara had returned to the house in good spirits because Henry had been moved out of ICU and into a semiprivate room. He’d barely had time to ask her about Henry’s condition because Dylan and Colin regaled her excitedly with what they had eaten at Ruthie’s.
The nurse stuck her head out the door. “Sir, you can come in now. I had to change his IV and check his vitals.”
“How is he? I’m his son,” Sawyer explained when she gave him a questioning look.
“He’s progressing well. You can get the name of his doctor from the nurse’s station and he’ll tell you everything.”
“Thank you.”
Sawyer entered the sun-filled room, his gaze fixed on the figure in the bed closest to the window. Sawyer didn’t know what to expect when he glanced down at his father but it wasn’t the man he hardly recognized. Henry Middleton was only sixty-seven yet appeared at least ten years older. As a former merchant seaman the elements had not been kind to his complexion. Streaks of silver were threaded between fading strawberry blonde curls.
Reaching for a chair, Sawyer pulled it closer to the bed and stared at Henry, who appeared to be sleeping. His chest rose and fell in an even rhythm. Sawyer ran his forefinger down the limp right hand resting on the snowy-white sheet, finding the skin cool to the touch. Then, without warning, Henry opened his eyes.
“You came.” His voice was barely a whisper.
“Yes, Dad, I came.”
Tears filled his red-rimmed blue eyes. “I prayed you’d come.”
Sawyer felt a lump forming in his throat as he watched his father cry. Rachel said Henry had changed, but he never could have imagined the dictatorial man shedding even a single tear. He patted Henry’s hand. “And your prayers are answered.” Rising slightly, Sawyer reached for the box of tissues on the bedside table. He gently blotted Henry’s cheeks. How was he to comfort a man who’d never shown him a modicum of gentleness, a man who preferred ridicule to compliments?
“How...long...long are you sta...ying?” Henry’s eyelids fluttered.
“I’ll be here until the end of summer.” Sawyer wasn’t certain if his father heard him, because he suspected the nurse had given him a sedative.
A hint of a smile parted the older man’s lips. “I feel like an elephant’s sitting on my chest.” His smile faded as he closed his eyes again. “I guess I’m going to feel some pain for a while. Do you know they put stents in my arteries?”
“Yes, Dad, and you’ll feel a lot better once you’re out of here.”
“When did you get here?”
“Yesterday.”
“Who called you?”
“Rachel.”
Henry chuckled softly. “I knew she would. It’s good they brought me to her hospital so she can make certain they don’t give me the wrong medication.”
Sawyer shook his head. This was the Henry he knew. He hoped his father’s brush with death had made him less negative. “They’re not going to give you the wrong medication. And if you were going to die, then it would’ve happened before they got you to the hospital.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“I know I’m right.”
Henry breathed out a lingering sigh. “I remember you telling me that I’m too mean to die.”
Sawyer nodded. “I seem to remember saying that more than once.”
“Do you realize you’re right? That I’m too mean to die? At least, not yet.” Henry sighed again. “I think I’m going to sleep now. Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”
Leaning over, Sawyer pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Yes.” Seconds later soft snoring filled the room. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and saw Rachel in the doorway. Smiling, she motioned him closer. He stood and approached her.
“Did you get the chance to talk to Dad?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“Did he growl at you?”
“He’s in no condition to growl at anyone. How long do you think he’s going to be here?”
“Probably another two days, barring complications. He almost coded in the ambulance. I spoke to his cardiologist earlier this morning and he says they’re going to get him out of bed tomorrow because they want him ambulatory.”
“Will he be able to walk stairs?”
“Not for at least a week. I’ll have Mom turn the family room into a temporary bedroom. The love seat converts into a bed.” Rachel glanced at her watch. “I’m on meal break, so I’m going to grab a bite then take a power nap before I go back on duty.”
“Make certain you get some sleep before you drive home. You don’t need to drive drowsy.”
“I have to get the boys up in the morning because they tend to—”
“Don’t worry about the boys, Rachel,” Sawyer said, cutting her off. “I’ll get them up and see that they get on the bus.”
“You don’t have to do that, Sawyer.”
“I don’t mind. You hang out here and get some rest before you get behind the wheel. Remember, you’re a nurse, not Superwoman.”
Rachel flashed a tender smile. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Sawyer hugged her. “So am I.” He stood in the doorway and watched her retreating back before returning to sit at his father’s bedside. He had not lied to Rachel. It felt good to sleep under the roof in the house where he had been raised, and he knew it was just a matter of time before word got out that he was back in Wickham Falls.
Reaching for his cell phone, he sent a group text to his partners:
My father had angioplasty surgery. He came through okay. Plan to spend summer here.
Seconds later a response from Elena popped up on his screen.
Glad to know your dad is okay. We told the staff about the hiatus. It didn’t go over well although they’re being paid. They still want to come into the office.
Darius: I don’t have a problem with them coming in. What about you, Saw?
Sawyer: I’m with you, Darius. Maybe they’ll come up with something spectacular before we go public.
Elena: Word!
Sawyer laughed softly. It was on a rare occasion Elena used slang. Sawyer sent another message.
I’ll check in later for updates.
Darius: Speaking of updates I finally popped the question. Last night I asked Chloe to move in with me and she went off like a mad woman claiming her parents didn’t raise her to shack up with a man. This morning I took her to a jeweler and told her to pick out a ring. I must admit my woman has fabulous taste in jewelry.
Sawyer: Congrats! It’s about time, brother. When are you tying the knot?
Darius: Easter week, and I want you and Thom to be my groomsmen. Chloe wants a destination wedding, so I’m seriously thinking of chartering a ship leaving out of New York for the wedding party and holding the ceremony and reception in Key West.
Sawyer: I’m in.
Elena: You’re next, Sawyer.
Sawyer: Nah!! Right now I’m cool being a bachelor.
Elena: Yeah right. I’m willing to bet some pretty young country girl is going to catch your eye and you’ll stop all that talk about being a cool bachelor. In case you don’t realize it, you’re still a country boy.
Sawyer: What’s wrong with being a country boy?
Elena: Nothing. Don’t forget Thom comes from a little town in Tennessee and I wouldn’t trade him in if Brad Pitt walked through my door right this very minute.
Sawyer: This country boy is going to ring off now. You guys give your better halves my best.
He was still smiling when he slipped the phone into the pocket of his jeans. Little had Elena known that a pretty country girl had caught his eye but that’s where it began and ended.
He wanted Jessica Calhoun, not as a wife or even a lover, but as a friend. He didn’t want to get too involved with her and then, come summer’s end, leave her to return to New York.
* * *
The doorbell rang, followed by Bootsy’s strident barking, as Jessica descended the staircase. “I’m coming, baby boy.” Logan had called to let her know he was coming over so they could get a jump on the grant proposal.
She opened the front door and within seconds Jessica scooped him up and held him tightly as the dog continued growling. “Sorry about that,” she said in apology. “He’s usually more welcoming.”
Logan patted the small dog on the head. “Hey, Bootsy.”
“Come on in. I printed out two copies of last year’s grant application so we each will have a copy. We’ll work at the table in the eating nook where we will have more room.”
Logan sniffed the air. “Something smells good.”
“I’m cooking for the week. Do you want anything to eat or drink?”
“No, thank you.”
Jessica indicated where Logan should sit and then placed Bootsy in his crate in the mudroom. She returned to the kitchen and sat on the cushioned bench seat opposite Logan. “Have you set a wedding date?”
A mysterious smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Yes. Bastille Day.”
“You’re getting married July fourteenth?”
Logan affected a wide grin. “Oui, mademoiselle.”
She smiled. “Congratulations! I’d love to be a fly on the wall and see everyone’s expression at the school when you show up wearing a wedding band.”
“That’s not nice, Miss Calhoun,” he chided.
“And you’re not nice, Mister Mysterious,” Jessica countered teasingly, “playing the footloose and fancy-free bachelor when you have a girlfriend waiting for you in France.”
“Not quite, Jessica. I’ve never dated any of the women who work for the school district, and that’s why there’s been gossip about my love life. The same can be said about you.”
“You’re right,” she confirmed. Although she’d dated one man for several months after moving to West Virginia, Jessica had a hard-and-fast rule not to date her coworkers. “Well, let’s get into this monster and see what we can salvage or if we have to come up with new strategies to present to the committee.”
They spent more than three hours going over pages of the proposal, deleting data they’d submitted the year before, while jotting down notes along the margins for possible consideration. “I think we’re aiming too low,” Jessica said, as she studied the section with the award bid request.
“You’re kidding, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not. Think about it, Logan. Other school districts are being awarded millions, while we’re only asking for less than half a mil. That may indicate our need isn’t as great as other districts. Our demand is as great as Newark, New Jersey’s, where they got a hundred million in grants from Facebook cofounder Mark Zuckerberg.”
“You can’t compare a city like Newark, which probably has a total population of at least a quarter of a million, to a town like Wickham Falls, where we struggle to maintain a population over four thousand, with half of them children.”
“I still think we’ve been going at it from the wrong direction,” Jessica argued softly. “It’s not so much about asking for money as it is showing a specific need. If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask a friend’s brother who is into computers if he can offer some input. He’s a graduate of Wickham Falls’ schools, and as an alumnus his feedback may prove invaluable.”
Logan leaned back, his gaze never wavering. “If he agrees then I don’t see why we can’t bring him on as an unpaid consultant.”
Jessica gathered the pages with their notes, walked Logan to the door and then released Bootsy from the mudroom. She picked him up, cradling him to her chest. “Baby, you’re going to have to learn not to show your teeth at Mama’s company or they’ll think you have no home training.”
Bootsy wiggled for her to put him down and ran into the mudroom, where his lead and harness hung from a hook on the door. Jessica doubted he needed to go out but decided to indulge him. Reaching for the can of pepper spray, she tucked it into the pocket of her jeans and put on her pet’s outside gear. At the last possible minute she picked up her cell phone and left the house.
* * *
The following weekend Jessica got up Saturday morning and set out patio furniture before she returned to the kitchen to prepare for food for the Memorial Day weekend get-together. While she had invited Sawyer to bring his nephews over for the backyard cookout, she had also extended the invitation to the families of her girls’-night-out colleagues, Abby, Beatrice, and Carly—who referred to themselves as the ABCs. She had also sent Rachel a text asking her to come if she wasn’t scheduled to work.
The doorbell echoed throughout the house and seconds later Bootsy bounded into the kitchen barking loudly for her to follow him. “I’m coming, baby boy.” She knew Bootsy would continue to bark until she went to see who or what had caught his attention.
Jessica opened the front door and her pulse skipped a beat before settling back to a normal rhythm. Sawyer stood on the porch with Rachel and his nephews. His deeply tanned face under the New York Yankees baseball cap indicated he had spent time in the sun since she last saw him. The added color illuminated eyes that reminded her of polished sapphires. Jessica still couldn’t figure out what was it about her best friend’s brother that made her feel tingly all over. She opened the door wider.
“Welcome!” Her voice had gone up an octave and Rachel, carrying the picnic hamper, looked at her as if she had suddenly taken leave of her senses.
“Hello, Miss Calhoun,” the boys said in unison.
“Can we play with Bootsy?” Dylan asked.
“Yes. But if he starts panting too hard, then please bring him inside.” As if on cue, the puppy raced after the two boys as they headed for the rear of the house. “You didn’t have to bring anything,” she told Sawyer, who cradled a plastic crate filled with beer and soft drinks to his chest.
“Down here we’re taught never to come to someone’s home empty-handed.”
Rachel set the hamper on the ladder-back chair in the entryway and then patted her brother’s back. “Nice talk for someone wearing a Yankees cap.”
“Come with me, Sawyer, and I’ll show you where you can put your contraband.”
He laughed loudly. “Damn! You ladies are cold.”
“Sawyer! You’re going to have to watch your language,” Rachel admonished. “You keep swearing, and Dylan and Colin are going to end up with sewer mouths.”
“Sorry about that, sis.” He followed Jessica as she led the way around the house to an expansive patio area. “Something smells real good.”
Jessica glanced at him over her shoulder. “I hope you brought your appetite because I’m smoking brisket, ribs and chicken. I have hot dogs, burgers and links for the kids.” She pointed to a large tin tub filled with ice, bottles of beer and juice and cans of soda. “I think there’s still some room in there for your...contribution.”
Sawyer gave her a level look. “I thought it was contraband?”
She scrunched up her nose. “Did I say contraband and not contribution?”
“You can’t blame it on a slip of the tongue, because you know damn well...I mean you know right well what you meant.”
“Rachel’s right. You’re going to have to clean up your language because there’re going to be a few kids here this afternoon.”
“How many?”
“About six, and that includes your nephews.”
Sawyer put bottles of beer and soda into the tub of icy water. “I suppose I spend too much time around adults.”
“None of your friends in New York have children?”
“No.” He stood straight, giving Jessica a long, penetrating stare, and realized she was a chameleon. The first time he’d seen her she was dressed to the nines, and then her clothes had been casual-chic at the restaurant, and now she appeared no older than a college coed with a white tank top, matching cropped pants and blue-and-white-striped espadrilles. She had covered her hair with a white bandana. And what Sawyer could not decide was which Jessica he liked best.
Sawyer’s gaze swept over the patio that had an outdoor kitchen. “I’ve passed this house a few times but I never knew there was this much land behind it.” He deliberately changed the topic from marriage and babies because he was tired of Rachel accusing him of being selfish because he wasn’t willing to settle down. He had time to find that special woman with whom to share his life.
“It’s a little more than an acre,” Jessica said.
“What I do remember is the owners had their own garden and sold most of what they grew.”
“The greenhouses are still here. They’re hidden behind the trees, and they’re the reason I bought this place.”
His eyebrows lifted. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. I grow all of my fruits, vegetables and flowers.”
“The flowers you sent my father were from your garden?”
“Yes. Unfortunately I didn’t get to see him when I went to the hospital because he was with his therapist at the time, so I just left them along with a card.”
Folding his arms over his chest, Sawyer angled his head. Jessica was more an enigma than he had originally thought. Somehow he could not imagine a twenty-first-century thirty-something career woman farming. “I still can’t believe you grow your own flowers and produce.”
“The next time you come over I’ll give you a tour.”
“Will there be a next time?” he asked. He schooled his expression not to reveal the anticipation that Jessica would invite him to her home again.
“I’m certain there’ll be.”
Sawyer successfully hid a smile behind an expression of indifference. Jessica’s offer for him to come back to her home was definitely a pleasant surprise and totally unexpected.
“Is there anything else I can do to help out before the others get here?”
“No. You’re a guest, Sawyer.”
“It’s a backyard cookout, not a formal dinner, and if you’ve been up for hours putting all of this together then it means you’ll probably be too tired to enjoy your guests. Now, please tell me how I can help you.”
A slow smile softened her lips, drawing his gaze to linger there. “You’re quite the silver-tongued devil when it comes to piling on the guilt.”
Sawyer winked at her. “It’s more like being persuasive.”
Jessica rested a hand on his forearm. “Okay, Mister Persuasive. You can fire up the grill and cook burgers and hot dogs for the kids. They’ll probably want to eat before the adults.”
Rachel joined them on the patio. “Is there something I can do before the others get here?”
“You can help me set the table,” Jessica told her. “All of the dishes and serving pieces are stacked on the kitchen countertop.”
Sawyer cocked his head to one side. “I think I hear someone calling you, Jessica.”
“You must have ears like a bat,” Jessica teased as she turned and walked around the house.
Rachel stared at Sawyer’s impassive expression. “You’ve really got it bad, brother love.”
He frowned at Rachel. “What are you talking about?”
“Jessica. You really like her, don’t you?”
He adjusted his cap and pulled it lower on his forehead. “What’s there not to like? She’s pretty, smart, and she seems to have charmed the pants off our family.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, Sawyer. You like Jessica the way a man likes a woman.”
“Do you want me to lie?”
“No. I’m glad you like her because I think she’s good for you.”
Sawyer walked to the gas grill and pushed buttons to ignite the propane, his sister shadowing his steps. “Good how?”
“She has all the qualities you should look for in a woman who could become your potential wife.”
Sawyer gave Rachel an incredulous stare. “When did you become a matchmaker? Because I’ve never had a problem letting a woman know I was interested in her. That’s enough about me and Jessica. I’ve been assigned the task of manning the grill, so I need to get busy.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/rochelle-alers/home-to-wickham-falls/) 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.