A Perfect Love
Lenora Worth
When city gal Summer Maxwell came to visit her family's Texas small town, her car broke down nine miles from her destination.World-weary and lagging in her faith, Summer didn't think things could get worse…until a handsome stranger came to her rescue and opened her eyes to the joy she'd long been missing. Landscaper Mack Riley's heart ached to see someone as caring and beautiful as Summer so confused about her life.He wanted to admit his growing feelings for her. But would she trust him after a secret from his past came back to haunt him - or would their love pass every possible test?
Summer’s laughter was refreshing and…beautiful
But then, Mack realized, she was beautiful. Her eyes were big and beguiling. Her hair shone like golden wheat at sunset. Mack groaned inwardly, thinking he’d gone all soft and poetic, just watching the woman. But he couldn’t stop watching her.
Until a big goose flapped his wings and started seriously chasing Summer. Suddenly she was surrounded by quacking, hungry geese, ducks and ducklings.
“Hey, do something. I’m being attacked,” Summer said to him as she rushed by.
Mack shook his head, his own laughter relieving some of the tension. “I’m enjoying this too much.”
He grabbed her hand and urged her toward the building. They stopped at the veranda, laughing as they tried to catch their breaths.
Summer gazed at Mack, her eyes shining with mirth. “I’ve never been rescued from ducks and geese before.”
Mack realized he’d made a fatal mistake. He shouldn’t have taken her by the hand, because now he didn’t want to let go. Ever.
LENORA WORTH
grew up in a small Georgia town and decided in the fourth grade that she wanted to be a writer. But first she married her high school sweetheart, then moved to Atlanta, Georgia. Taking care of their baby daughter at home while her husband worked at night, Lenora discovered the world of romance novels and knew that’s what she wanted to write. And so she began.
In 1993, Lenora’s hard work and determination finally paid off with that first sale. “I never gave up, and I believe my faith in God helped get me through the rough times when I doubted myself,” Lenora says. “Each time I start a new book, I say a prayer, asking God to give me the strength and direction to put the words to paper. That’s why I’m so thrilled to be a part of Steeple Hill’s Love Inspired line, where I can combine my faith in God with my love of romance. It’s the best combination.”
A Perfect Love
Lenora Worth
There is no fear in love,
but perfect love casts out fear.
—1 John 4:18
To my niece, Jessica Smith, with lots of love.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Letter to Reader
Chapter One
This wasn’t the best place in the world to have a breakdown, either in one’s car or one’s life.
Summer Maxwell was having both, however.
Wanting to say words her grandmother wouldn’t appreciate, Summer kicked the front right tire of her late-model sportscar, then let out a frustrated groan as she looked up and down the lonely Texas back road. A sign a few feet from her car stated Athens, 9 Miles.
So close, yet still so far away.
“I just had to drive all the way home from New York, didn’t I?” she shouted to the hot, humid wind. “And I just had to do it in this pitiful excuse for an automobile.”
Summer eyed the faded red of the twenty-year-old Jaguar, wondering why she’d never bothered to buy a new car. Maybe because this one had belonged to her father at one time, and maybe because that was a connection she wasn’t ready to give up, even if it wasn’t always pleasant.
James Maxwell had given his only daughter the car when she’d graduated from high school, his silky, charming words making the deal all the more sweet since he’d missed the graduation ceremony. “Daddy wants you to have this one, honey. I’m getting me a brand-new Porsche. And your mama, she doesn’t want this one. Guess that means I’ll be buying her a Cadillac soon.”
“Yeah, you sure did buy Mama a new set of wheels,” Summer muttered as the gloaming of another hot Texas day brought a cool wisp of breeze floating over her. And James Maxwell hadn’t even bothered to wish his daughter well as she headed off to college with her cousins, April and Autumn. No, her father hadn’t bothered with much at all regarding his daughter. Maybe because he’d wanted a son so badly, to carry on the glory days of his rodeo career.
“Sorry, Daddy,” Summer said now and wondered why she always felt it necessary to apologize for everything.
Her parents were globe-trotters, too tied up in each other and her father’s rodeo and oil-industry endorsements to worry about their rebellious daughter. So they’d dumped her on her mother’s parents for most of her life, while they enjoyed the good life that came with being oil-and cattle-rich Maxwells.
“I’m almost there, Memaw,” Summer said as she lifted the hot hood of the car, then backed away as a damp mist of smoke poured over her. “Must be the radiator again.”
Wishing she hadn’t been so stubborn about not flying, or about not taking her cousin Autumn’s sensible sedan, Summer looked up and down the long road. She could call her grandfather on her cell, get him to come and pick her up. That is, if her cell would even work in these isolated piney woods.
“Or I could walk,” she reasoned. “Maybe physical activity would keep me from having that breakdown I so richly deserve.”
Grabbing her aged baseball-glove-leather tote bag from the passenger’s seat of the convertible, Summer tried her cell. Low power and even lower battery. No surprise there.
“Okay, I guess I get to walk nine miles along this bug-infested highway. Nice, Summer, real nice.”
She was about to put up the worn black top of the car and lock it, when she heard a truck rumbling along the highway.
“Oh, great. Let’s hope you are a kind soul,” she said into the wind. “‘I have always relied upon the kindness of strangers’”, she quoted from Tennessee Williams.
And let’s pray you aren’t some psycho out on the loose. Not that she couldn’t handle herself. She was armed with pepper spray and a whole arsenal of self-defense courses. She’d learned all about how to protect herself, working as a counselor to battered women at a New York City YWCA for the past five years.
She’d also learned all about the dark, evil side of life working there, too. Which was why she was now stranded on this road. Everyone she knew in New York, including her cousins and her immediate supervisor, had agreed it was time for Summer to take a vacation.
Burned out. Stressed out. Angry. Bitter.
Those were the words they’d used to describe her.
And that didn’t even begin to touch the surface.
Summer took a long breath, tried to imagine a peaceful scene somewhere in the tired recesses of her mind, while she waited for the old truck to pull up beside her. But somehow, she didn’t believe deep breathing would get her through this acute, aching depression.
And neither would God, she decided.
Then she looked up and saw her rescuer.
He was young, probably only a few years older than Summer’s twenty-seven years. He was pretty in a rugged, rough-cut way. He had vivid gray-blue eyes that flashed like heat lightning. And he had crisp, curly light-brown hair that seemed to be rebelling against the humidity.
Warning flares went off in Summer’s weary mind like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
Putting the rickety old truck into Park, he said, “Need some help?”
Summer decided that was an understatement, but she hid that behind what she hoped was a serene smile. “Kinda looks that way, doesn’t it?”
“Want me to look under the hood?”
“No need,” she said, ignoring the homesick delight his Texas drawl caused along her skin. “It’s the radiator. Probably finally busted for good.”
He got out and walked to the raised hood anyway. Since he was a man, Summer figured he didn’t trust her word on car maintenance. Had to see it for himself. Probably thought just because she was a blonde, that she didn’t have any brain cells. Never mind that she had been a double major in college. No need for this handsome interloper to know that just yet.
He turned and wiped his hands down the sides of his worn jeans. “Yep, looks like you’re right. It’s too hot to even touch right now.”
Summer noted his solid build and laid-back swagger. “I told you so,” she said with a hint of sarcasm to hide the hint of interest she had in him.
He ignored the sarcasm, his gaze filled with his own interest. “Where you headed?”
“Athens.” She didn’t feel the need to give him any more information.
“I live there,” he said. Then he extended his hand. “Mack Riley.”
“Summer Maxwell,” she said, taking his hand and enjoying the strength of his touch a little too much.
He pulled his hand away with a quick tug, making her wonder if he’d felt that little bit of awareness, too. “Summer?”
“Yes,” she said, thinking she saw recognition in his beautiful eyes.
“Pretty name.” He hesitated, then said, “And just who are you visiting in Athens?”
“My grandparents,” she replied, mystified by his suddenly odd behavior. “I wanted to surprise them.”
“Oh, I reckon they’ll be surprised, all right,” he said as he shut the car’s hood. “Who are your grandparents? I might know them.”
“Jesse and Martha Creswell,” Summer said, thinking he probably did know them. Everybody knew just about everybody else in the small town of Athens, Texas.
He stepped back, gave her a look that shouted confusion and surprise. “Well, how ’bout that.”
“You know them?” she asked, echoing her thoughts.
“I sure do,” he replied. “Good people. C’mon, I’ll give you a ride into town, then we’ll send a tow truck to get your car.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Summer said, sending up a prayer that he wasn’t dangerous. She knew better then to get in a car with a complete stranger, but he seemed normal, and he knew her grandparents. But just to test that theory, she put her hands on her hips and asked, “Will I be safe with you?”
He laughed, shook his head. “I’m not on any Top Ten Most Wanted List, if that’s what you mean.”
Oh, but he could be on a Top Ten Hunk list, Summer decided. His smile was criminal in its beauty.
“Okay,” she retorted as she started locking up the car. “I just had to be sure. ’Cause my granddaddy, he shoots first and asks questions later.”
“I hear that,” he said, helping her to latch the convertible top. “I do believe Jesse would have my hide if I let anything happen to you.”
“So how well do you know my grandparents?”
“I met them when I first moved here.”
Why did she get the feeling he was being evasive? Maybe because he wouldn’t look her in the eyes. And maybe because she’d learned not to trust people on first impressions.
“Am I missing something here?” she asked, determination causing her to dig in her heels.
“Do you have suitcases?” he asked back, misunderstanding the question, maybe on purpose.
“Oh, yes, I do.” She unlocked the trunk.
He laughed as he looked down at the beat-up brown leather duffel bag. “How’d you ever get that in this poor excuse for a trunk?”
“You’d be surprised just how much this trunk can hold.”
He nodded, grabbed the considerably heavy bag without even a huff of breath, then tossed it in the back of his truck. “Well, I guess that’s it then.”
“I guess so,” she said as she rounded the truck to get in. Once he was all settled behind the wheel, Summer stood at her open door, glaring at him. “Except the part you’re leaving out.”
He lifted his brow. “Excuse me?”
“You’re not telling me the whole story here, are you, Mr. Riley? And I’m not going anywhere with you until you do.”
“Call me Mack,” he replied, a look of resolve coloring his eyes. He cranked the truck, motioned toward the seat. “And I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
Summer had learned all about deceit on the streets of New York, from working with women who lived through the worst kind of deception and deprivation. She could smell it a mile away. “I think you know more about my grandparents than you’re telling me. And I want to hear the truth, all of it.”
He let out a long sigh, as if he didn’t know how to handle such a direct statement. “I said I know them. Can’t that be enough for now?”
“Nope,” Summer replied, smiling sweetly. “You might not be dangerous or a wanted man, but you’re being mighty quiet about my grandparents. And I want to know why.”
He looked up and down the long road, then nodded. “I guess you deserve an explanation. Get in and I’ll give you one, I promise.”
Mack Riley stared over at the assertive, no-non-sense woman sitting in his truck. She was a looker, no doubt about that. He’d heard enough about Summer Maxwell to know, though, that all that long blond hair and those bright-blue eyes couldn’t hide the fact that she was also very intelligent and sharp.
Too sharp. And right now, not too trusting, either.
What was he supposed to tell the woman? That he knew her grandparents on a first-name basis. That he also knew her rich, jet-setting parents, through conversations with Jesse and Martha, and through having met them on the rare occasions they decided to drop in and check on Summer’s grandparents. That he recognized her now, from the many pictures of her growing up that Martha had displayed in her living room. And that he knew enough about Summer herself to fill a book and his own needy imagination.
Mack wasn’t ready to open up and have a heart-to-heart with this intriguing woman. Not yet. So he did what he’d always been so very good at doing. He tried to avoid the issue.
“I’m waiting,” Summer said, causing him to glance over at her.
He tried to deflect that in-your-face-look. “Honestly, I don’t know what to say, or where to begin. Okay, I do know your folks—real well. Is that a crime?”
“Oh, no,” she said, folding her arms as she stared at him. “The crime would be in you withholding information from me. And I think you are. You said you’d explain things. So start talking. Just tell me—is one of them sick? Has something happened, something terrible, that I don’t know about?”
Mack made a turn onto yet another long highway. “They’re both just fine,” he said. “But…a lot has happened over the last few months. When was the last time you talked to them?”
“I saw them at Uncle Stuart’s funeral,” Summer replied, her blue eyes going dark. “They invited me to come home for a visit. I told them I’d think about it. I did, and so here I am.”
“That funeral was over two months ago,” he said, reasoning that she might not know all that had happened since then after all.
“Yes. But they both seemed fine, in good health. Of course, we were all upset about Uncle Stuart.”
“So you didn’t call ahead, to let them know you were coming?”
She squirmed a bit. “No. I didn’t want them to worry since I decided to drive across the country. I wanted to take my time, do a little sightseeing.”
Mack got the feeling she hadn’t noticed the scenery on her long trip home. Maybe she’d just needed some down time.
He could understand that.
“Well, they’ll be surprised, that’s for sure.”
Then he witnessed some of that famous temper Martha had told him about.
“Listen, mister, I’m getting very bad vibes here. You’re scaring me. If there’s something I need to know about my grandparents, good or bad, then you’d better spit it out.”
Mack stopped the truck in front of the old two-story white farmhouse that had been the Creswell home for many years.
Summer looked up at the house. “Oh, we’re here.”
“Yes,” he said, hating to be the one to break the news to her. “But…there is something you need to know.”
“I knew it,” she said, her expression grim. “Something bad has happened, right?”
Mack looked at the house, then back to Summer Maxwell, deciding he’d have to be up front with her. There was just no other way. “Depends on how you look at things,” he said, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel.
“Because?”
“Because, well, Summer, your grandparents no longer own this house.”
“What?” She opened the door of the truck and ran around to stand in the tree-lined yard, her gaze moving from him to the house and back. “What do you mean?” she asked as she turned and stomped back to him.
Mack got out of the truck, dread filling his heart. “I mean, your grandparents decided to sell out and move. Your dad bought them this fancy patio apartment in a new retirement village about a mile up the road.”
“He did what?” Summer shouted, her vivid eyes flashing a fire that only added to her obviously fiery nature. “I can’t believe this! He sold their home? How could he do that? Memaw and Papaw have lived here for over fifty years.”
“I know,” Mack said, wishing he could soften this news for her. “I know all about this house.”
“Oh, yeah. And how come you know so much about all of this?”
Mack glanced at the house, then down at his scuffed work boots. Then he lifted his head and looked straight into Summer’s fighting-mad blue eyes.
“Because I own it now,” he said. “Your daddy sold this house and the surrounding land to me.”
Chapter Two
Summer blinked. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you right? Did you say you own this house now?”
Mack Riley nodded, shifted his feet, let out a long sigh. “I bought it fair and square about a month ago.”
Summer blew at the wispy bangs slanting across her face, one hand on her hip as she wondered whether just to let him have it and get it over with, or wait and attack her father instead. “Fair and square? Fair and square? Yeah, I’ll just bet my father sold it to you fair and square. How in the world did he get them to agree to this?”
Mack stepped closer, holding his hands out palms up, as if to protect himself. Which wasn’t a bad idea right now, by Summer’s way of thinking. “Your grandparents seem happy with the arrangement. In case you haven’t noticed, this house is old and in great need of repair, and…well, your grandparents are in about the same shape.”
She advanced. “And just who are you to be telling me about my own grandparents?”
He stepped closer, no fear in his eyes. More like defiance and that resolve she’d seen earlier. Which only made Summer even more mad.
“I’ll tell you who I am,” he said. “I’m about the only one around here who does know about your grandparents. You see, I talk to them on pretty much a daily basis. Your father and mother call every now and then, and you…well, you said yourself you haven’t seen them or talked with them since your uncle’s funeral. So that leaves me. And believe me, I think they are better off in that retirement village. At least there, they’re among friends and near qualified people who can help them.”
Summer couldn’t believe he was standing here preaching to her! “Oh, well, excuse me. Since you obviously know so very much about my shortcomings, and since you are such a saint for watching over my grandparents, I guess that gives you every right to just bully them out of their home.”
“I didn’t bully anybody,” he retorted, his voice low and full of frustration. “I liked the house and knew it was where I wanted to live. So I bought it.”
“Fair and square, of course.”
“Yes. I made them a good offer and they took it. It’s that simple.”
Summer stomped to the truck to get her duffel bag. “Oh, there is nothing simple about this. This…this isn’t right. But then, I should have known a man in cahoots with my wayward father wouldn’t understand the implications of something so horrible.”
“Hey, hold on,” Mack said, taking the bag right out of her hand with surprising ease. “I’m not in cahoots with anyone. I just moved here and needed a place to live. So I bought this house from your father. End of story.”
Summer tapped her platform sneaker against the aged wooden steps of the house, her blood boiling just like the radiator on her car had been doing earlier. She could almost feel the hot steam coming out of her ears. “Oh, I think there is much more to this story, and I intend to find out the whole truth.”
Such as, how had her father become the spokes-person for her grandparents, and if the house was in such bad repair, why hadn’t James Maxwell forked over the funds to renovate his in-laws’ home? It just didn’t make any sense. But lately, nothing much in her life had made any sense.
She turned and headed to the house, then stopped, hitting a palm to her forehead. “Silly me. I can’t stay here now. Not with you.” Then she plopped down on the steps and looked up at him. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”
Mack had never seen a more dejected sight. A beautiful, uptown blonde in worn jeans and strange shoes, sitting on the broken steps of a hundred-year-old farmhouse, her eyes brilliant with tears she refused to shed, her expression bordering on outrage, and…her hands trembling slightly as she dropped them over her knees.
All of his protective instincts surfaced, reminding him that he’d come here to find some peace and quiet, not get tangled up in a family squabble. But he had to help her, even if she was fighting mad at him, and the world in general. If for no other reason than to get her off his doorstep.
Thinking she didn’t look so bad sitting there, however, he said, “Look, you know there’s plenty of room in the house.”
“I can’t stay here with you,” she repeated, gritting the words between her clenched teeth. “First, I’d rather eat nails than do that, and second, this is a small, old-fashioned town. I wouldn’t want my grandparents to hear any rumors.”
“I admire your stand,” Mack said, daring to sit down on the bottom step. “But even if you did want to stay here, the house is being renovated. There’s very little furniture and the plumbing is barely working. I’m not even living here full-time myself right now. How about you get a room at that motel out on the highway?”
“How about that?” she said, hitting her hand on her knee. “Great, just great. I look forward to a visit home and I get to stay in some fleabag motel. That should help my burnout and stress level a lot.”
Mack could recognize all the signs of her type-A personality. She was a live one. And she looked just about ready to explode into a doozy of a meltdown. The dark circles under her pretty eyes only reminded him of a time when he’d felt the same way. But he sure didn’t know how to help her. Or maybe he was just afraid to help her.
Then Mack lifted his head and glanced over at her. “Hey, what about your parents’ house? They’re in Mexico, last I heard. Won’t be home all summer.”
Summer groaned, laid her head in her hands. “Go to my parents’ house? Oh, that’s just peachy. I hate that overblown facade of a house. All that modern art and fake-rustic country-French charm? Like I want to stay at that overpriced country club of a house!”
“It’s a nice house,” Mack said, thinking it had probably set her parents back a cool million, at least. “And it’s safe—”
“Oh, I know all about the gated community and the exclusive homeowner’s policy, and the golf course and the country club. My mother fairly gushed about it…last time I bothered to talk to her.”
“What is it with you and not talking to your relatives?”
She laughed, the sound bubbling up in her throat like a fresh waterfall hitting rock. “I guess my grandparents didn’t let you in on all the family history, after all. We’re a bit…estranged, my parents and me.”
“Oh, yeah? And why is that?”
Summer pushed at the thick blond hair cascading around her face and shoulders. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because they never had any time for me when I was growing up, so now I make it a point never to make any time for them.” Then she gave him a hard glare. “And besides, that’s none of your business.”
He knew he was heading into deep water, but he didn’t get it. “Your parents seem like nice folks. The times I’ve been around them—which is few, I’ll admit—they seem to be happy and fun-loving. I wish I had their kind of carefree energy.”
She gave him a harsh frown. “And I wish they’d use some of that fun-loving, happy, carefree energy on staying in one place. Just once, I wish they’d settle down and actually notice that they have a daughter.”
“You have issues, don’t you?”
“More than you can imagine, buddy.”
“So what are you gonna do?”
She kept staring at him long enough to allow Mack plenty of time to get caught up in the blue of her eyes. “I want to see my grandparents, make sure this is really what they wanted.”
“It is, I promise.”
She jumped up, pointed a finger in his face. “I don’t believe in promises, understand? I’ve been promised so many things that didn’t work out, it’s sickening.”
“Well, I keep my promises, and I’m telling you, Jesse and Martha are doing better than ever.”
“I need to see them,” she said again, her voice going all soft and husky. “I can’t explain things with my parents—it’s a long story and it’s something I have to come to terms with. But…I can tell you that I love my grandparents, and I came home to see them. So can I please just do that, go and see them?”
That gentle plea melted Mack’s defenses with all the slow-moving force of butter meeting honey on a biscuit, and he knew he was a goner. “Want me to take you to Golden Vista?” At her puzzled, raised-eyebrow expression, he added, “The retirement community where your grandparents live.”
“Golden Vista? That just sounds depressing.”
“It’s a nice place. I think your father invested heavily in—”
Summer shot around him, her long-nailed fingers flailing out into the air. “Oh, I get it now. My father invested in this fancy retirement home, so he’s just making sure he covers his assets, right? By forcing my mother’s parents to go and live there? He just gets lower than a snake’s belly with every passing day.”
Mack didn’t know how to deal with so much bitterness and anger spewing from such a sweet-looking mouth. Although there was a time when he’d been the same way, he reminded himself. But not anymore. “I don’t think—”
“I’m not asking you to think,” she countered. “Just give me a ride to this…Grim Reaper Vista.”
“It’s Golden Vista,” he said, hiding a grin behind a cough. At least she was entertaining—in a Texas twister kind of way.
“Whatever. Just get me to my grandparents. I’ll handle things from there.”
Mack could only imagine how this bundle of blond dynamite would handle things.
Not very well, from the looks of her. There was sure to be a whole lot of fallout and carnage left along her pretty, pithy path.
Just one more thing for him to worry about.
One more thing he really didn’t need to be worrying about right now.
“So this is Golden Vista?”
At Mack’s nod, Summer looked around at the rows and rows of compact wood and brick apartments set against the gentle, rolling hills of East Texas. “It looks like some cookie-cutter type of torture chamber or prison.”
Mack grinned over at her, which only made her fold her arms across her waist in defiance. She didn’t want to like him. In fact, she refused to like him. He was the enemy.
“It’s not a torture chamber and it’s certainly not a prison,” he said as he guided the truck up a tree-shaded drive. “The residents here aren’t in a nursing home. It’s called a retirement village. It’s a community, completely self-contained. And very secure. It has lots of benefits for people like your grandparents, looking for a place to retire.”
“I’ll just bet. Retired, as in, shuffleboard in the morning and bingo in the afternoon. My grandparents are probably bored to tears!”
“I’m telling you, they love it,” Mack replied. “They can come and go as they please, and Jesse and Martha do just that. They have a new car—”
“Courtesy of my generous father, I reckon?”
“Uh, yes. It’s a sturdy sedan.”
“And I guess they just love it, too, right?”
“They seem to. I see them gallivanting all over town in it.”
“My grandparents do not gallivant.”
“Oh, yes, they do.”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot you know more about their lifestyle than I do, because I haven’t bothered to keep up with them.”
“That about tells it like it is,” he said, but he held up a hand at her warning glare. “Look, as you so sweetly pointed out, it’s none of my business, your relationship with your folks. I can only tell you what I’ve seen in the last few weeks since I moved here. They were lonely and they’re getting on in years. That farmhouse is kind of isolated out there on the edge of town. I’ve visited them several times since I moved into the house, just to let them see how the renovations are coming along, and they seem very content at Golden Vista.”
“I can’t picture that,” Summer said, remembering how her grandfather loved to plant a big garden, just so he could give his crop away to half of Henderson County. And her grandmother—she loved to cook and quilt, can vegetables and sew pillows, make clothes and crafts. How could she do all those things cooped up in some cracker box of an apartment?
Summer dropped her head into her hand. “I just have to talk to them.”
Mack stopped the truck, then pointed toward a huge, park-like courtyard in the middle of the complex. “Well, there they are, right over there.”
Summer looked up to find a large group of senior citizens milling around in Hawaiian shirts and straw hats. Tiki torches burned all around the festive courtyard, while island music played from a loudspeaker. The smell of grilled meat hit the air, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
“What in the world?”
“It’s a luau,” Mack said. “They have these theme parties once a month. Last month, it was Texas barbecue, and I think next month is Summer Gospel Jam—”
“I’ve heard enough,” Summer said, opening the rickety truck door with a knuckle-crunching yank. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this mess.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mack said, his grin widening.
“Do you find this humorous?” Summer asked as they met in front of the truck.
“Kinda,” he said, then he turned more serious.
Probably because she had murder in her eyes. “I’d advise you to stop grinning.”
He did. “You don’t like change, do you?”
She lifted a brow. “I can handle change just fine, thank you. What I don’t like is when people manipulate my perfectly respectable, God-fearing grandparents. Especially when it’s my own parents.”
“I don’t think they were manipulated,” Mack said as he pulled her toward the feisty-looking group of old people. “I think they just got tired of the upkeep on the house and farm, and they decided to relax and have some fun.”
“It’s just horrible,” Summer retorted, not buying his explanation at all. “You’re laughing about a situation I find very serious.”
“Well, maybe you just take things way too seriously.”
She stopped, blocking his way toward the party. “My poor, hardworking grandparents are trapped in this…this one-foot-in-the-grave travel stop. And I refuse to believe—”
“Summer? Is that my sweet baby, Summer?”
Summer stopped in midsentence, then turned to stare at the stout woman running…well, gently jogging…toward her. “Memaw?”
“It’s me, suga’. Land’s sake, we didn’t know you were coming for a visit. C’mere and give your old granny a good hug.”
Summer took in the hot-pink flamingoes posed across the wide berth of her grandmother’s floral muumuu, took in the bright yellow of the shiny plastic lei draping her memaw’s neck, then glanced down at her grandmother’s feet.
“Memaw, are you wearing kitten-heeled flip-flops?”
“Ain’t they cute?” Martha Creswell said as she enveloped Summer in a hug that only a grandmother could get away with. “And take a look at my pedicure,” she said as she wrapped her arms around Summer. “My toenails are sparkling—Glistening Party Pink, I think the beautician called it.”
Her grandmother’s tight-gripped hug just about smothered Summer, but the sweet, familiar scent of Jergens lotion caused tears to brim in Summer’s eyes. She pulled away to smile down at her petite grandmother. “Oh, Memaw, what have they done to you?”
“Not a thing,” Martha replied, laughing out loud. “Honey, I’m fine, just fine. But wait until you see your grandpa, sugar. He’s been on that new diet, don’t you know. Trim and slim and wired for action.”
“Wired for action? Papaw?” Summer had a bad feeling about this whole setup. A very bad feeling.
Chapter Three
Summer looked her grandmother over from head to toe. Martha Creswell looked healthy and happy. Memaw had always been on the voluptuous side, but now she fairly glowed with energy and good health.
“Have you been taking your blood pressure medicine, Memaw?”
Martha patted her on the arm. “Of course, darling. But the doctor tells me I’m doing better than ever.” Then she held up her arm like a weight lifter. “Pumping iron and water aerobics. I’ve lost fat and gained muscle.”
Summer wondered at that, but she couldn’t argue with her grandmother. Before she could pose another question, Martha pulled her along. “I see you’ve met Mack here.” Then Martha stopped in midstride, causing her colorful muumuu to pool around her legs. “Oh, my. That means you know about the house.”
Summer held her grandmother’s arm. “Yes, I had to hear about it from him.” She shot a scowl toward Mack. “Why didn’t y’all let me know?”
Martha shook her head. “It happened kind of fast—”
Summer interrupted her with a loud hiss of breath. “I knew it. Daddy pressured y’all, didn’t he?”
Martha looked confused. “Well, no, not really—”
“Summer, my little pea blossom!”
The loud voice announcing her grandfather caused Summer to whirl around and brace herself for another hug. “Papaw!”
Summer took in the Hawaiian shirt and khaki Bermuda shorts, the stark white socks and strappy leather sandals, just before her grandfather picked her up off her feet and whirled her around.
“It is so good to see you, suga’.”
Her breath cut off, Summer settled back on her feet to look up at her lovable grandfather. “Papaw, what’s going on here?”
He waved a hand in the air. “A luau. You hungry?”
Tears misted in Summer’s eyes. That wasn’t exactly what she’d meant. “Yes, but—”
“Then come on over here and let’s get you a plate. We got grilled pork and chicken, and fruit and vegetables for miles—most from my garden out back—”
“You still have a garden?”
Martha piped up as they escorted Summer toward the curious crowd. “He sure does. Everyone here calls your Papaw the Garden King. He’s in charge of the garden for the whole village. Came in and took over the one they had planted. Made that puny garden spring right to life.”
“That’s nice,” Summer said, raising her eyebrows at Mack Riley’s triumphant I-told-you-so smile. “I’m glad you still have that, at least.”
Her grandmother stopped right before they headed into the throng of vivid floral polyester and orthopedic shoes. “Honey, we’ve got lots to tell you, but that can all wait until later. Right now, I want you to meet some of our friends here at Golden Vista. We just love it here.”
Summer blinked back her tears. “I’m glad, Memaw.”
But she wasn’t so glad. She was fast going into sensory overload, her unresolved resentment at her parents ever-building inside her tired, steamed bones. Since the night she’d broken things off with Brad, she’d longed to be back here in Athens, at home, safe in the house she’d loved all her life, with the grandparents who’d taken her in without questions or judgment and given her unconditional love.
She’d suffered right along with April back in the spring, when April’s father, Stuart Maxwell, had passed away, and Summer was still feeling the effects of that and her ugly breakup with Brad Parker. Uncle Stuart had always been larger than life and so much a part of Summer’s world, that her grief had been overwhelming at times. But, she reminded herself as she took in the colorful decorations and the festive tiki-themed party plates and cups, her cousin April was happy now. Happy in Paris, Texas, near Reed Garrison, the man she’d always loved. They were getting married in September.
Reed, who’d always been the boy next door, would soon be April’s husband. And April would be moving into his house. They had grand plans for the Big M Ranch. They were going to turn it into some sort of vacation resort, because April wanted it to be filled with happy people, and she also wanted to honor her mother by showcasing her artwork there. The Big M certainly would make a lovely, peaceful vacation spot, but even that was changing way too fast for Summer to comprehend.
Summer wanted to be happy for her cousin, but lately, she’d been in a blue fog of regret and resentment, causing even her best intentions to go sour.
Which was why she’d taken this leave of absence to drive home. She’d needed some time to think about her life. In spite of the stress of her job, she didn’t like feeling bitter and resentful all the time. She wanted to be happy again.
But now she had to worry about her grandparents.
And him, of course.
The man who’d stepped in and bought her grandparents’ home right out from under them.
She cast a glance toward Mack Riley, trying to stay unaware of his rugged, craggy good looks and his gentle, smiling gray-blue eyes. But she was very aware, because the man looked at her with all the intensity of a lone wolf out on the prowl. A wounded wolf, she decided.
How she knew this, Summer couldn’t picture. But she could almost see that something inside him that drew her to him. She’d seen that look in enough hurting people in the city. And it reflected that empty, unsettled spot deep inside her own soul.
“So you met Mack?” her grandfather said, echoing her grandmother’s earlier question. “A good man, this one. Salt of the earth.”
“Yes, we met,” Mack said, answering for both of them. “Summer wanted to see you two right away, though.”
“That’s so nice of you, to drive her over here, Mack,” her grandmother said, her smile beaming with maternal pride and matchmaking sparks. “Wasn’t that nice of him, Summer?”
Summer didn’t comment. She couldn’t. She felt a huge suffocating lump in her throat. Mack was right. She didn’t like change. Not at all. And she certainly didn’t like being put on the spot. She was spinning out of control, and she suddenly felt lost and all alone.
This was too much, all at once, out of the blue like this. She wanted to go back, way back, to her childhood. To her room on the second floor of that old house. To frilly pink curtains blowing in the wind, to the fresh smell of line-dried sheets and gardenias from her grandmother’s garden beside the back door, to the secure knowledge that they’d have biscuits and gravy and fried chicken for dinner, and some sort of fresh fruit cobbler for dessert on Sunday, right after church. She wanted to go back to family picnics down by the stream, and her grandparents laughing and each holding one of her hands as they walked down the dirt lane toward the blackberry bushes and the plum trees.
But she couldn’t go back.
Summer looked up as Mack came to stand beside her. “Are you okay with all of this?” he asked, his eyes gentle and seeking.
“Do I look okay?” she managed, her voice grainy and strained, her eyes burning with tears she wouldn’t shed.
“You look just fine. Maybe a bit tired and travel-weary.”
She let out a struggling laugh. “I am that. Travel-weary. Very travel-weary.”
Martha heard her comment. “Well, you’re home now, darling. You’re home and you’re safe.”
Summer almost did cry then, but the look of sympathy in Mack Riley’s eyes stopped her cold. She wouldn’t have that nervous breakdown today, after all. Instead, she flared her nostrils. “Where’s the beef?”
Martha pushed Summer toward three very curious women who’d been watching them. “Summer, I want you to meet Lola, Cissie and Pamela. Lola is our director here at Golden Vista. Cissie is her administrative assistant and office manager and Pamela is our activities coordinator.”
“So wonderful to meet you,” blond-haired Lola said, extending her hand to Summer. “Your family has done so much for Golden Vista.”
“Yes,” Cissie said, her short red hair glistening in the sun. “We just love your grandparents. And your parents are always so helpful when they come to visit.”
“Really?” Summer asked, surprised to hear that.
“Oh, they love to cart the residents around,” Pamela answered, her blue eyes twinkling. “They take them all over. Road trips, shopping excursions.”
“Well, you just never know,” Summer replied, amazed that her parents even bothered.
“C’mon, now,” her grandfather said, tugging her toward the table full of food. “You need to eat more.”
“But ain’t she still as pretty as a summer day?” Martha asked, her gaze trained with glee on Mack.
Mack lifted his chin. “Is that how she got her name?”
Martha nodded. “It suits her, don’t you think?”
“Perfectly,” Mack said, his eyes locking with Summer’s.
Summer suddenly lost her appetite.
Mack couldn’t eat another bite. These fun-loving senior citizens kept filling his plate with piles of food, and he gratefully ate every morsel, maybe because he had a lot of nervous energy and eating seemed to help curb that, maybe because he couldn’t stop staring at Summer Maxwell, and wondering what would happen next with this volatile, intriguing woman.
Who knew she’d be so…pretty.
Summer had the look of a leggy California blonde, but she had the brash nature of a purebred Texan. She wasn’t going to take anything lightly. Especially him moving into her grandparents’ house.
Mack wanted to explain things to her, but he held back. It probably wouldn’t matter anyway. Once he had her settled, wherever she decided to land, he wouldn’t have any excuses for seeing her again. She’d visit with her folks, get some rest, then go back to her life in New York.
He’d certainly heard all about that life from her grandparents. A loft apartment with her two cousins in Tribeca, a stressful job as a social worker at one of the toughest YWCAs in the city, a social life that went bad more than it turned out good. He still remembered Martha’s words to him just last week.
“Pray for my granddaughter, Mack. Summer is hurting so much and I can’t get through to her. She needs to remember to lean on the Lord, but she thinks everyone has let her down, even God. My daughter Elsie, she doesn’t understand Summer the way I do. Those two are as different as night and day.”
Night and day. Maybe that’s how he and Summer would be, too. Two very different people forced together under awkward circumstances. She’d never forgive him for buying Jesse and Martha’s house. He’d never be able to make her see that he’d needed a place to heal because he’d been let down a lot, too.
Summer found a quiet spot away from the party. Pulling out her cell phone, she checked to see if she had any messages. None. Quickly, Summer text-messaged her cousin Autumn in New York.
U won’t believe. GPs in retirement home. No house. Not sure what 2 do now.
She hit Send and let out a sigh.
“What are you doing?”
Summer whirled to find Mack Riley leaning on a gazebo post, his cool gray-blue eyes trained on her.
Finding a bravado she didn’t feel, Summer tossed her phone back in her tote and said, “I’m checking for messages, not that it’s any of your business.”
“Okay then.” He turned to go, his hands up in the air.
“Wait,” she said, regretting her rude nature. “I’m sorry. Look, it’s just been a long day and I’m really tired.”
“Want me to take you home?”
She raised her brows. “And where would that be?”
He shrugged, gave her a smile that made little flares of awareness shoot off in her system. “You have several choices.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. You can go to your parents’ home. You can stay here in one of the guest apartments they keep for family, or I can stay here in an apartment and…you can have the house, keeping in mind, of course, that the house is barely livable right now. But you could sleep there at least.”
Summer felt as if a soft wind had slipped up on her and knocked her flat. “You’d do that for me? Give up the house, I mean?”
“Only temporarily,” he said, grinning. “But, yes, if it would make you feel better, I’d be glad to do that. I go back and forth between Golden Vista and the house and sometimes spend the night there, but I’d stay away if you decided to stay at the house.”
Summer thought about his offer. It was so tempting, but then, the house wouldn’t be the same. Nothing was the same. Mack owned it now, for whatever reasons. She couldn’t bear to stay there without her grandparents.
“I think I’ll just stay here at Golden Vista for now,” she said, her voice hoarse with frustration. “But…thank you for the offer.”
He pushed off the post and came toward her, that predatory look in his eyes. “Want me to take you to the office, so you can get a key?”
“Sure.” She wanted a long soak and a soft bed. “I’m so tired.” Then she stopped. “I forgot about my car. I need to call a tow—”
“I already did that.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. While you were having another slice of pineapple upside-down cake.”
“I only had one slice, but it was a really big one.”
“Yeah, right. You have quite an appetite.”
She smiled then. “I can pack it away.”
“It looks good on you.”
Summer wasn’t one to blush easily, but she did now. “I like to walk,” she said by way of explaining herself. “I walk all over New York. Especially in Central Park.”
“It’s a nice park.”
Surprised that he’d been there, Summer realized she knew nothing about this man who’d moved to Athens and intruded in such a big way on her life. Or rather, the life she’d left behind. “When were you in New York?”
“Years ago,” he said as he looked off into the setting sun. “A lifetime ago.”
“And I lived here a lifetime ago,” she retorted.
“But we’re both here now.”
“Yes,” she said. “Isn’t it funny how things happen that way. You just never know—”
“No, you don’t,” he replied as he guided her back toward the covered walkway. “I never dreamed I’d wind up in a small Texas town, working at a retirement complex.”
The warm, fuzzy feelings Summer had been experiencing turned cold and harsh. “You work here?”
He nodded, looked sheepish. “Maintenance man and groundskeeper. That’s why I stay here sometimes. Sorry.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me that?”
“Didn’t seem important. Besides, you and your grandparents were too busy having a good time.”
She regarded him as if he’d turned into roadkill. “So that little news flash sort of slipped your mind.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t think it would matter one way or another.”
“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“You wouldn’t believe,” he said, his smile open and pure. And challenging.
Summer wanted to believe. She wanted to think that Mack Riley was just a nice man who’d become friends with her grandparents. But she’d learned not to accept things at face value. Especially pretty words coming from handsome men.
Something else was up here. Something that didn’t sit well with Summer. And she intended to find out what that something was.
Chapter Four
“Are you all settled in, honey?”
Summer turned from putting clothes in the white chest of drawers to answer her grandmother’s question. “I think so. This is a really nice apartment.”
Martha beamed her pride. “Yes, the Golden Vista is so accommodating to family members. They have two of these efficiency apartments, I think. And they keep them open to anyone who wants to come and visit. We’ve even got Internet hookup, so you can use that laptop thing I saw you unpacking.”
Summer tried to muster up some enthusiasm as she glanced around the homey L-shaped apartment. “I’ve got wireless, but that’s convenient.”
Martha rushed across the sitting room/kitchen combination. “What’s wrong, darlin’?”
Summer never could hide anything from her shrewd grandmother. “Nothing, Memaw. I’m just tired…and all of this is a bit overwhelming, I guess.”
“I told Jesse we should have called you and told you about selling the farm, but it was kind of spur of the moment. Then once we got here, well, we’re always going and doing.” She shrugged, shook her head.
“It doesn’t matter,” Summer said, finishing her unpacking with a slam of the last drawer. “I haven’t exactly been faithful in the calling-home department.”
Martha came to stand next to her, her arm going around Summer’s shoulders as they stared at their reflections in the oval mirror over the dresser. “But we always knew you were there if we needed you.”
Summer looked down at her petite grandmother, love pouring over her. “Why didn’t you…call me? I mean, if you needed money or a place to live—”
“Oh, honey, we’re all right, money-wise. Your grandfather, Lord love him, he saves money with a frugal vengeance. And whether you want to believe it or not, your parents have always helped us out. They just don’t make a big fuss about it.”
Summer scoffed, then laughed. “Oh, not like they make such a big fuss about everything else? The trips, the houses and cars, the celebrities they hang out with.”
“They’re not as bad as all that,” Martha said, a touch of censure in her voice. “They just like to enjoy life. I do wish you’d make your peace with them.”
Summer walked into the compact kitchen, then stood staring at the stark white counters and cabinets. A wistful ache pulsed through her heart. “Oh, I’d love to do that, if I ever saw them.”
Her grandmother gave her a knowing, gentle look. “Didn’t they visit you last time they were passing through New York?”
Summer raised her chin. “Yes, in the airport restaurant at JFK. That was a charming visit, let me tell you.”
“But they did make the effort, right?”
“Right,” Summer replied, her defenses up. “So I guess they should get the Parents of the Year award for that little layover?”
“No, but you could cut them some slack,” Martha said, a twinkle in her eye.
“Okay, I’ll try, for your sake at least,” Summer retorted. “But…it’s just too hard to explain.”
Martha pursed her lips. “Well, I can’t squeeze blood from a turnip, so let’s change the subject. Tell me what brought you home for this special visit.”
Summer wanted to pour out her heart to her grandmother, but the day had just been too full of surprises for that. She needed time to think, to comprehend all the things that were going on around her. She needed time to absorb all the country charm of Golden Vista. Right now, it was screaming just a bit too loudly for her to fully appreciate it.
So she turned to her grandmother, determined not to put one speck of worry on those loving shoulders. “I just wanted to see y’all, is all.”
Martha came around the counter and took Summer into her arms. “Well, I’m so very thankful for that. I pray for you every day, honey. I pray for you to find love and happiness, and I pray for all of you girls to be safe up there in that big, scary city.”
“Well, only two of us are left,” Summer pointed out. “April is staying in Texas. We’ve got a September wedding to attend, Memaw.”
“Oh, that’s so precious,” Martha said, clasping her hands together. “April and Reed belong together.” Then she hugged Summer again. “I hope you find that kind of happiness one day.”
Summer allowed her grandmother’s sincere love to envelop her like a warm blanket. She closed her eyes and sank against the soft security of her grandmother’s embrace, sending up her own thanks to the God she was so mad at right now. “I love you, Memaw.”
“I know, darling. And I love you right back.” Then Martha let her go, but held onto her arms, her eyes going big. “So…what do you think about our Mack?”
“Mack Riley is a pushy, overbearing, overrated gardener,” Summer wrote in an e-mail to her cousins later that night.
Well, actually he’s not so overbearing, and he seems to be a good groundskeeper, but I don’t like the man. I didn’t like him on sight, even though I must admit he’s easy on the eye. Attractive in a rugged, outdoors kind of way. But I’m not interested. Not one bit. Even if the man did give me a ride and call a tow truck for my car. I’m not so helpless that I couldn’t have handled that myself, but it was nice to have someone step up and do something thoughtful. But then, that same man now lives in my grandparents’ house. And that’s just not right. Never mind that Memaw and Papaw act as if they’re on some sort of permanent vacation. I think they’re just putting on a good show. I can’t imagine that they’d actually be happy in this overblown old folks’ home. I came home expecting to find everything the way I’d left it. But everything has changed so much. Too much. I don’t know if I can handle this. Or Mack Riley.
Summer finished the e-mail, hitting the send button with a defiant punch to her mouse. She pushed away from the tiny kitchen desk and glanced up at the clock over the sink. It was past midnight, but she didn’t think she’d be sleeping any time soon. A deep fatigue pulled at her, making her wish for a long rest.
“If I could just be in my bed at the farm,” she said out loud to the quiet, efficient apartment. This little cracker box was clean and comfortable, but it didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right.
Her gaze fell across the little white Bible lying on the coffee table. A wave of guilt hit her, making her look away. “I don’t want to talk to You right now, Lord.”
But the Bible’s gold-etched cover drew Summer. She plopped down on the floral loveseat and grabbed the Bible, thumbing through it at random. The pages finally stopped at 1 Corinthians, Chapter 13. “Love is patience; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful.”
Summer closed the book, then stared down at the cover. “I guess I’ve messed up in that department.” But then, she didn’t believe in a perfect kind of love. Love only caused pain and heartache.
She got up and went to the curtained glass-paneled door that opened to a small outside patio. Maybe some fresh air would calm her frazzled nerves. Tentatively, so as not to wake up any of the old people sleeping all around her, Summer opened the door and stepped out onto the rectangular patio. Putting her hands in the pockets of her jeans, she took a deep breath and willed herself to find some of that love and peace she’d just read about.
“Nice night.”
Summer jumped at hearing the deep, masculine voice a few feet away from her. Squinting, she saw him there in the moonlight. Mack Riley was sitting in a large white wooden swing underneath an arched rose trellis.
Summer’s peace was shattered and frayed. Gone. “You scared me,” she said, her gaze taking in the circular pavilion centered between the apartments.
“Didn’t mean to do that.”
“Don’t you ever go home?”
“I do. But I told you, I’m renovating the house right now. It’s a mess. I have an apartment here, too, remember? I stay over sometimes when I’ve got an early day ahead. Just until I get the house finished, though.”
Great, Summer thought. She’d have to see him night and day, hovering around all over the complex. Maybe she could keep busy and avoid him. “So that line about allowing me to have the house all to myself was just for show then?”
His foot stopped pushing and the swing creaked to a halt. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you knew you had an apartment here when you made the offer. And here I was thinking you were being so gallant.”
“I told you I stay out there at the house sometimes, and here sometimes. If you’d decided to stay there, I couldn’t have done that. So, yes, I was trying to be considerate.”
She shifted then shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Forget it. I’m all unpacked here and things are just dandy. So how many apartments does this place have?”
“All told, over a hundred. That’s just the first phase though.”
Summer leaned against the wooden porch rail. “Well, I didn’t realize there were so many senior citizens in Athens, Texas.”
“They come from all around, looking for a good climate and a safe environment near the big medical centers. It’s a long-term answer to retirement.”
“I’m so glad you’ve got it all figured out.”
“I’m just here to do my job.”
She wondered about that, about how he’d wound up here of all places. But she’d save that for another day. “So what are you doing sitting out here in the dark?”
“Taking in the night air.” He patted the space on the swing next to him. “Want to sit with me?”
“No, I don’t. I came out here to…take a breath before I go to sleep.”
“Uh-huh. You couldn’t sleep either, right?”
She put her hands on her hips. “And how do you know that? Were you spying on me through the windows?”
He pushed his feet against the flagstone platform underneath the swing, causing the swing to creak as it moved back and forth. “No, I most certainly wasn’t. I didn’t even know you were in that particular apartment.”
“Yeah, right. You’re the yard boy, and you did take me to the office to check in and get a key. You probably know every nook and cranny of this place.”
“I wasn’t spying on you,” he repeated, a hint of irritation in his words. “I don’t have to resort to spying to be around pretty women.”
“Oh, and I guess you know lots of pretty women.”
He got really quiet after that. Satisfied that she’d shut him up, Summer stared off into the distance, the buzz of hungry mosquitoes reminding her it was summer in Texas.
“Not anymore,” he finally said. “I used to know lots of women, back in Austin. But I’m on a self-imposed bachelor’s hiatus right now. No women, no complications. And I’m happy as a clam about it.”
“Well, that’s nice. I’m glad you’re so happy. So you decided to give up women for…senior citizens?”
“I like old folks, and the pay is good.”
“That’s wonderful, a real win-win situation. I guess somebody had to take care of all these flowers and shrubs.”
“Yep. Don’t you feel closer to God in a garden?”
“Not really.” Summer turned to go inside, where she’d be farther away from Mack Riley.
“Hey, I don’t bite.”
“I’m not worried about that. I’m just tired.”
“So come and sit with me. Relax and enjoy the night.”
“I can’t relax with you around. Don’t you get it? You’re not exactly on my A list.”
“How can I remedy that?”
“By going away.”
“I was here first.”
“Then I’ll go away,” Summer said, her hand reaching for the door.
He was there, his hand holding hers. “Look, I’m sorry about…the farm. I lost my own grandparents when I was young, so I know it’s tough seeing yours in a different place. Grandparents represent home and love and all that stuff. I hate you had to come back and find all of that gone. But…your grandparents are still right here, and anyone can see they love you.”
Summer refused to look at him, refused to acknowledge the heated warmth of his hand over hers, or the sincere kindness in his words. “Well, there is no place like home, unless of course someone comes along and takes it all away.”
“I didn’t take anything. I received a very nice old house and some land, and gave your grandparents a chance to rest and have some fun in a good place.”
“How can I ever thank you?”
“By forgiving me. By understanding that I’m not at the root of all your problems.”
“No, but you’re right there in the thick of things.”
He dropped his hand away, but she could feel his fierce gaze on her. “How’d you get so sarcastic and cynical, anyway? Does living in New York do this to a person?”
Summer managed to open the door even though her hands were shaking. “No, but dealing with battered women does. I’ve seen it all, Mack. I don’t believe in love or faith anymore. I’ve learned that I can depend only on myself.”
“Well, you’re doing a lousy job of that, too, if you ask me.”
“I didn’t ask you, but thanks so much for your compassion and understanding,” she said, just before she slammed the door in his face. Then she made sure all the curtains and blinds were closed and shut. If only she could shut her mind down and close it up tight, too.
But she couldn’t. So Summer lay in the crisp white sheets of the comfortable bed and thought about Mack Riley out there in that swing. And she thought about what he’d said to her. After pouting with each toss and turn, she wondered if maybe he wasn’t right. Maybe she wasn’t handling things so well on her own.
She punched her fluffy pillow. “And that ain’t the half of it, buster.” She would never tell him the whole sordid story. Summer was having a hard time dealing with all the details of that herself. Which, she imagined, is why she’d tucked tail and run home to Texas. She just couldn’t face her cousins or her coworkers right now. She’d failed everyone, including all the women she’d tried so desperately to help.
“But I’m not telling you a thing, Mr. Mack Riley—Mr. Golden Vista Poster Boy, Mr. This Old House and Curb Appeal all rolled into one.”
She couldn’t give him the satisfaction of being right, of course. And she wasn’t ready to set him straight by giving him all the intimate details of her sad life. So she slammed at her pillows and told herself she was just fine, thank you. Then she got up and checked her e-mails, pouring her troubles out to her cousins until she was exhausted and bleary-eyed.
But Mack Riley still stood out like a thorny blackberry bush in her buzzing, confused brain. And she had to wonder if there wasn’t more to his story, too. That nagging inside her gut told her to keep digging, to find out what flaws lay beneath that outdoorsman appeal and lethal smile.
Everybody had secrets. Mack Riley was no exception.
Chapter Five
Summer woke up to the smell of bacon frying and coffee brewing. Her stomach growled hungrily. Rolling over, she glanced at the clock. Eight o’clock. After tossing and turning for part of the night, she’d finally fallen into a deep sleep. Stretching, she had to admit this bed was comfortable and this little apartment had wrapped her in a cozy cocoon.
Now the sun was streaming through the white blinds of her window. Time to start her day. “What now, Lord?” she asked as she rolled out of bed. “Do I go make crafts or play a mean game of Scrabble in the rec room?”
Right now, she just wanted to find that coffee.
After taking a quick shower and blow-drying her hair until it was just damp, she put on fresh jeans and some lip gloss, then headed up the carpeted hallway toward the dining room. It was crowded with a variety of senior citizens, some smiling and chatting, some sitting alone, cranky and cantankerous.
Since Summer felt like the latter group, and since she couldn’t find her grandparents, she poured herself some coffee and grabbed a fiber-filled banana bran muffin, then headed to the brooding corner of the room.
“Who are you?” a white-haired man asked as she passed his table. He wore a Texas Rangers baseball cap and a big scowl.
Summer tried to smile. “I’m Summer Maxwell. I’m here visiting my grandparents.”
“Who are they?”
“The Creswells—Martha and Jesse.”
He nodded, then leaned forward. “Hey, wanna go out with me Saturday night?”
Shocked and appalled, Summer shook her head. “No, thanks. I might not be around that long.”
He thumped his chest. “Hmph. Me neither.”
Sliding as far away as she could, Summer thought maybe he was just lonely. “You always eat alone?”
“Nah. Sometimes I have family come to visit. When they can find the time, that is.”
He looked sad for a minute, until the next available female came by, this one much closer to his age.
“Hey, Gladys. Wanna go out with me Saturday night?”
Gladys was carrying a wonderfully aged Louis Vuitton purse which she held very tightly to her middle. Fingering her double strand of pearls, she gave him a look that would have flattened lesser men, then huffed a breath. “I don’t think so, Ralph. Especially since I heard you took out Bullah Patterson last Sunday night.”
“We’re just friends,” Ralph insisted, waving a hand at her. “It was just a gospel sing, not a lifelong commitment.”
Gladys kept on walking, her purse held to her side as if she were the Queen herself.
Ralph shrugged, bit into a piece of toast and stared ahead for the next conquest.
“I see you’ve met Mr. Maroney.”
Summer looked up to find Mack Riley standing there with a tray full of food in his hands. Noting that he looked as fresh as a daisy in his clean jeans and faded red T-shirt, she wished she’d bothered to finish styling her hair and had applied a bit more makeup. Too late now. And why did she care anyway?
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