It’s that time again where I post a few chapters of my up and coming book. Last week the prologue was posted for Our Chance. And now it’s time for chapter one, called Positive.

Positive

Fifteen Years Later

Celeste opened her eyes as the first rays of dawn shone through her window. Nothing like waking to the sunshine. It always perked her up and reminded her she had everything in the world to be thankful for.

“I’m not eating dirt today,” she said out loud and let out a little giggle.

Every morning she expressed some positive little tidbit. She’d done that since she was a teen.

Sure, sometimes she repeated the same one, but it didn’t matter. It was the sentiment that there was always something to be happy about. Something to look forward to. It was a great way to start the day in her mind.

She stretched her arms over her head, twisted to the right and then the left, heard her body pop and crack more than it should for a thirty-year-old, and walked into her bathroom to get ready for the day.

Twenty minutes later, she was strolling along the brick pathway into the kitchen of her bed and breakfast with her long brown hair in a braid that fell down her back. First things first, she filled the large industrial coffee machine and set it to brew. She always wanted coffee ready for her guests.

Her guests paid a hefty rate to stay at her B&B and she made it worth every penny for them, not only with the atmosphere and view, but also in making them feel like they were being pampered in their own home.

Breakfast wouldn’t be until eight, so she had plenty of time to bake some muffins for those that wanted something light.

While the coffee brewed, she pulled out the ingredients and started mixing up the batter for her blueberry muffins. Once the first batch was in the oven, she walked over to the chalkboard in the kitchen, and in her beautiful script updated the menu for tomorrow.

She always had the menu listed for the current and next day. That way her guests knew what she was cooking for breakfast and dinner, both which were served family style in her large dining room. Lunch was always brown bag.

When six of her eight guests were out the door with their packed lunches in hand for their hiking adventure, Celeste turned to her two remaining guests. Sisters, each renting the last of her five rooms. “What do you two ladies have planned for the day?”

“If you don’t mind, we thought we’d spend it out by the water. Maybe take out the paddle boat and get some exercise,” Sue, the older of the two sisters, said.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. The weather is beautiful, the sun is shining and warm, and the water is peaceful right now. Don’t forget your sunscreen,” Celeste said as she wiped down the counters.

“We’ll be fine. The sun isn’t that hot this time of year,” Nancy, the other sister, said back. “We never wear it. In our day, we went outside and bathed ourselves in baby oil.”

Celeste just held her smile, even though she wanted to cringe. “Well, as someone who was diagnosed with melanoma a year ago, I feel the need to lecture, but I’ll hold my tongue.” She walked over to a cabinet, opened it up, and pulled out a can of spray sunscreen. “Humor me, please, and take the sunscreen with you. Just don’t tell me if you decide not to use it,” she said, adding a little wink.

Celeste chose to believe the grins they were both sporting meant they’d use it, but chances were they wouldn’t. You can’t save the world, she told herself, but at least she felt better doing her part.

“Thanks, dear, you’re so thoughtful.”

Yep, thoughtful. That was her. Always thinking of others and putting them first.

“Not a problem. I’ll make sure the shed is unlocked so that you can get the life vests and any other gear you might want. There are fishing poles in there, too. Maybe if you catch enough I’ll cook fish for dinner.”

Both women scrunched their faces up. She expected no less. They were pretty pampered and high maintenance, and the thought of them fishing almost set her over the edge of laughter.

“How about we stop in town and buy some fish? Our treat,” Nancy said. “You’ve been taking such good care of us this week, I don’t want to go back home to my husband. Just the thought of what my house looks like makes me want to reserve another week here.”

“I have to run to town in a few minutes on errands. If you ladies are in the mood for fish, I’ll gladly pick some up. If all the other guests are in agreement, I’ll change dinner over. Otherwise, I’ll just cook the menu and your fish. No worries.”

“Really, don’t go out of your way,” Sue said.

“I’m here to please. How does salmon sound?”

“Delicious,” Nancy said.

“Then consider it done. Enjoy your day. There is plenty of food in the kitchen, so help yourself.”

Twenty minutes later, she was walking into the hardware store and making her way to the paint samples. “Hello, Billy,” she said to an old classmate.

He was a little on the short side, kind of geeky with his bow tie, and his left eye wandered off in space, but he was harmless. He’d never really fit in with his sweater vests and khakis in school, but she found him sweet and endearing and made sure she went out of her way to say hi.

“Celeste, it’s good to see you,” he said, blushing slightly like he always did. “Did I hear you were buying the house next to your bed and breakfast and turning it into another business?”

“Your hearing is excellent as always, Billy,” she said, tilting her head with a smile, which only caused his blush to intensify.

“You’re going into business with that fancy plastic surgeon, right?”

Small towns—nothing got by them. “Dr. Hamilton and I are forming a partnership of sorts, yes. It’s going to be a small B&B for his patients only, but I’ll oversee it while his staff is on call.”

“Imagine that, a special B&B for a plastic surgeon. Who would have thought of that?”

“The world is full of possibilities, Billy, don’t you forget it. I think you’ve got a customer waiting for you.” She nodded her head toward the tall man standing at the paint counter. He looked a little unkempt and a whole lot of impatient. “Sorry about that,” Celeste said to the newcomer, adding a little smile to her apology.

She didn’t recognize him, but he didn’t look like a tourist. Probably new to the area. More and more people were buying vacation homes here, though he didn’t look the part of a some-time vacationer either.

It looked like he hadn’t shaved in days. His hair was disheveled and in desperate need of a cut. An old T-shirt and cargo shorts with beat-up sneakers completed his look.

He nodded his head quickly, but didn’t say another word. She continued to smile politely and went on her merry way.

***

Caleb had been listening to the woman and worker talk for a few minutes while he grabbed the paint color he was looking for.

Celeste, huh? And it was her bed and breakfast. He drove by it every time he came to town and saw her outside often. He thought she might have been an employee since she was normally mowing the lawn, raking, weeding, and sometimes even painting or touching up the outside.

This was the first he’d seen her up close and was shocked to realize how young she seemed.

She obviously didn’t recognize him, not that he expected her to, but she’d waved to him a time or two as he’d driven by. Now he was starting to think she waved to everyone that passed her house. Good thing she didn’t live on that busy of a street or she’d never get anything done.

“Can I help you?” Billy asked him.

“I need to get two cans of this paint,” Caleb said, then turned his head and watched Celeste as she browsed tile samples a little ways down the aisle.

“Isn’t she just beautiful?” Billy asked him, a wistful tone in his voice.

Caleb grunted, but didn’t say anything else. Obviously Billy had a major crush on Celeste. It wasn’t hard to miss how he blushed and looked at her longingly.

To Celeste’s credit though, she didn’t humor Billy at all. No, she talked to him like he was a person, maybe like they were good friends, though they probably were no more than acquaintances. Just like she turned kind eyes on him and apologized for keeping him waiting.

He didn’t mind waiting, not really. It’s not like he had any pressing matters to get home to. Just painting and fixing up the cabin he’d bought. Then working out the kinks of another app he was writing.

“I went to school with her, and everyone just adored her,” Billy commented, then started to set the colors to blend in the mixer. Guess Billy didn’t get the hint that Caleb wasn’t much for conversation.

“That’s nice,” Caleb said and looked in the other direction, trying to find something else to focus his attention on.

“She’s nothing but a walking miracle. After all that’s happened to her, she’s never let it bring her down. Always had that bright sunshine smile on her face.”

Caleb refrained from snorting over Billy’s description. It was most likely an exaggeration from someone that was infatuated with her.

Besides, it wasn’t of any concern to him. He just wanted his paint so he could get home.

But Billy didn’t get the hint. “Was named prom queen two years running, too. No competition. But it never went to her head, either.”

Wow, Caleb thought. This was why he couldn’t get out of the small town he grew up in fast enough and was wondering what the heck he was thinking, relocating here. He’d thought it would give him the solace he needed to survive and move on, but instead it was just giving him a headache.

“I’m sure she was thrilled,” Caleb said, not knowing what else he should say. Proms were something he didn’t pay much attention to, even for the short period of time he was in high school.

“Nope, she didn’t want the honor. Her senior year, she handed the crown over to a classmate with Down syndrome. Told everyone that it wasn’t fair to be queen twice and she gave it to the runner-up instead.”

So Celeste was a saint on top of having a sunny disposition. Oh yeah, let’s not forget she was a walking miracle, whatever that was supposed to mean.

Not that Caleb believed in miracles. Just the opposite, actually. Miracles didn’t happen to him; they failed him. Cut a hole in his heart and left him to bleed out alone. Left him to pick up the pieces that were remaining and find a way to move on.

“How much longer is the paint going to be?” he asked, trying to figure out what else he needed so he could walk away from this ridiculous conversation.

“Almost done, just another minute. Do you need some brushes or pans today?” Billy asked, and Caleb was thrilled the topic had changed.

“I’m all set, thanks.”

Billy took a tiny bit of paint and put it on the outside of each lid, then slapped the top down hard and printed out the order slip. “Here you go then. Just take this to the register and they’ll ring you up. Have a great day.”

“Thanks,” Caleb said, nodding his head and walking to the front, paying quickly and making a beeline for his truck, only to be brought up short.

“I’m sorry,” the woman from the store he was trying to avoid said. She had her hand up and was rubbing the head of his German shepherd.

Some guard dog he ended up being. Gigantic head sticking out the window, tongue flopping to the side, and his eyes all but rolling around in his massive head as Celeste briskly rubbed his fur. Then she reached her hand under his chin and gave him a tickle, the dog’s head wobbling around in glee.

If dogs could talk, he’d swear the dog would be begging for more attention like Billy in there was.

“Don’t you know not to pet strange dogs?” Caleb asked.

“He looked lonely,” Celeste said. “No one should be lonely.”

Caleb grunted. She was like a little Pollyanna. Where the heck did she come from? “He just loves attention.”

“What’s his name?” she asked, her voice like a soft caress. Okay, maybe she had some magical powers in her voice, because he could see how someone could be drawn in.

“Sparky.”

“That’s a cheerful name,” she said, rubbing the dog one more time on the head, which got her a lick in return.

Man or dog, always a sucker for a beautiful woman, he thought. Good thing she didn’t know how Sparky got that name—she might not think it was so cheerful then. “Let’s go, boy, head back in the window.”

Sparky turned his head, eyed him once, then let out a sigh but did as he was told. Caleb walked around to the bed of his truck and put the cans in there. Celeste followed suit. Guess it wasn’t just Billy that couldn’t take a hint.

She held her hand out to his. “I’m Celeste McGuire. Thanks for letting me pet your dog. I’ve seen his head hanging out the window of your truck multiple times. Sorry I didn’t recognize you up close in the store.”

She was more observant than he thought. As much as he wanted to walk away, he wasn’t that much of an ogre, regardless of what people said. He returned her handshake. “Caleb Ryder.”

“You must be new to the area. I’ve only seen your truck for about six months now.”

Yeah, she obviously knew what was going on around town. He’d been in the area close to a year, but purchased the truck about six months ago. “Yep,” he said, not adding anything else.

He didn’t want to get close to any locals. He just wanted to go back to his cabin in the woods and be alone. He was better that way. It was better for everyone.

“It was nice to meet you, Caleb,” she said, her smile never leaving her face. He got the feeling she was humoring him now, but let it go.

“You too,” he said, and walked around the bed of his truck, climbed in the driver’s seat, and started the engine.

He didn’t look in the rear-view mirror at her while he was pulling out of the parking lot. Not really.

You can purchase Our Chance here.

Here’s the Prologue of Our Chance. I have to say, of all the books I’ve written, this story has touched me the most. You can buy the book here.

Prologue

Celeste looked up as her father strode into the room, oblivious to the noises around him. Noises that were second nature at this point. The tiredness on his face didn’t diminish the strength he always exhibited.

“How’s my girl doing?” he asked her, coming to sit on the corner of her bed. He reached his hand out and placed it lightly over hers, mindful of her IV and the heart-rate monitor on her finger.

“Hanging in there,” she said as upbeat as she could.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said, leaning down and kissing her forehead, but she wasn’t so sure she believed him. He’d never been wrong before and she didn’t want him to be now, except deep down she was afraid he was lying.

After all, she didn’t think she’d be here again. Not in this room, not in this hospital, and not wondering if she’d live.

No fifteen-year-old wanted to think that—ever. She was supposed to be infallible…weren’t all teens? She should be sitting on a different bed at a friend’s house talking about her latest crush, not in this dull sterile room wondering when she’d die.

Did death hurt? Would it be quick? Best not to go there.

“I’m scared,” she finally said.

It was the first time she’d ever voiced it out loud. Sure, it’d bounced around in her brain more times than she’d ever confess to, but not once during the six months of chemo did she ever tell her mother or father she was scared.

Nope, she saw how much her cancer upset them, so she did her best to project the face of a carefree teen. It wasn’t hard at times since she was always happy and cheerful. Though there were times she didn’t want to do anything other than curl in a ball and sleep through her illness, she always managed to stay positive. If not for those around her, then for her own mental sanity.

But it wasn’t fair. She’d fought her way through those treatments. She’d suffered in silence. She laughed when she saw her bald head the first time and even cracked jokes when her parents kept buying her different wigs to change up her style. And when she’d finished her last treatment, she celebrated with her friends by gorging on cake and ice cream…once her stomach was strong enough for the food to stay down.

Then, when her latest scan came back after her treatments ended and the results said she was in remission, well, that was cause for another party and another celebration. She’d made it. She’d beat the odds.

Life had finally seemed to be going so well. Her dark hair had grown back enough that she could style it and feel pretty again. She was strong enough to enjoy school and go out with her friends. She was back to being a teen.

Until a few weeks ago, when the latest scan said the cancer was back. Why? Why was it happening to her?

“I have all the faith in the world this bone marrow transplant will work,” her father said.

“It better,” she said, forcing another smile and fighting through the tears. “Cole will be livid if he has a scar and nothing good comes out of it.”

“Don’t talk like that. Do you hear me? Your mom will be here in a few minutes, and I’ll go sit with Cole.” Her father stopped talking, ran his hand over her short hair, and said, “Life’s not always fair, Celeste. We know that, you know that, but sometimes miracles happen. You and Cole were our miracle once before, so I know it’s possible to have another. I refuse to believe otherwise.”

She hoped her father was right, but she was so tired. So tired of being the strong one, the happy one, the one that had to fight this nasty battle.

When her mother walked in the room a minute later, Celeste did what she’d been doing all along. She painted a smile on her face and said, “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Her mother laughed through her teary eyes, leaned down, and kissed her quickly. “Cole just said the same thing. They’re going to put you two in the same recovery room so you can wake up together and start to torment each other like always.”

Celeste looked at her mother, then her father, giggled a little, fought the meds that were rushing through her veins making her slur her words, and said, “You wouldn’t want it any other way.”

It was the last thing she remembered. Seeing both of her parents looking down at her, both trying to smile like her, trying to look positive—only she saw the worry in their eyes. The same worry she’d been feeling for weeks in the pit of her stomach.

 

 

Are you ready for the next chapter in Give Me A Chance? You can catch up with the Prologue and Chapter 1 if you’d like to first.

I won’t keep you waiting, so here you go!

Pride Be Damned

Quinn was sitting in the booth behind the couple. She hadn’t been eavesdropping, not really. Only it was hard not to hear what they were saying with the restaurant quiet in the back corner.

There was the normal lull in the breakfast crowd, so she took the time to sit and roll silverware into napkins.

Should she say something to him? She wanted to. She wanted to know about this job opening she’d just heard him talking about. By the sound of it, it seemed full time. Not to mention a place to live…even better.

From experience, she knew nothing ever fell into her lap. Hard work and speaking up had always gotten her where she needed to be. Not that she’d gotten far in life, but far enough.

Enough to survive and that’s all she’d ever been concerned with.

What the hell, the worst he could say was no. She cleared her throat hoping to get his attention, but he didn’t lift his head, just continued to eat his breakfast.

So she cleared her throat again, this time a bit louder. He glanced up at her briefly, then back down. At least she got a closer look at him. He didn’t seem old enough to have kids that age. Then again, she wasn’t a good judge of a man’s age.

All she could tell was he was clean-shaven, even on a Saturday morning. His shirt looked nice and expensive. More than she’d ever pay, she was sure. More than she could afford, by the look of the logo on the front pocket.

Obviously he had money since he was looking for a nanny. She wondered what he did. Well, only one way to find out.

She stood up and moved a few feet in front of him, then waited until he looked up at her again. His eyes looked troubled, but she pushed on. “I’m sorry to interrupt you. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”

He titled his head slightly, his full lips forming a grimace that didn’t detract from his handsomeness at all, now that she was seeing him up close. He had thicker brows, strong cheekbones, and a square chin.

“No problem. It’s not a good morning, as I’m sure you heard.”

“You’re looking for a nanny?” she asked, wanting to get clarification.

“I guess. Though Jennifer is probably right. I really need more of a housekeeper and cook who is willing to keep an eye on the kids and cart them around. I’m not always available. Do you know someone?”

“Me,” she said before she lost her nerve. He looked skeptical, but she pushed on, “Do you mind if I sit for a minute and ask a few questions?”

He gestured to the booth across from him. “Don’t you have work to do, Quinn?” he asked, eying her nametag.

“It’s a little slow. Max, right?” Quinn said, and hoped he wasn’t offended that she called him by the name she’d heard. She took it as a good sign he wasn’t telling her to get lost.

“Yes, Max Hamilton. Quinn…?”

“Baker,” she said, holding her hand out for his. “I’m sorry to be so forward, but like I said, I heard your conversation.”

“So tell me why you think you can do this job?”

“I’m a line cook at another restaurant. I’m confident that I can fulfill that part of the job description, and I’ll gladly give you references.”

“I expect them. These are my children, after all. What else?” he asked.

“I raised my younger brothers and sister for years. I started doing it when I was around twelve.”

“Twelve?” he asked, not looking convinced.

She opted for honesty. “My mother wasn’t around much and there was no other adult in the picture. It was me or no one.”

“What were their ages?” He seemed more curious than skeptical.

“Seven, six, and two at the time.”

She didn’t often tell people that information. Not many were privy to her background and she’d prefer to keep it that way, but she wouldn’t lie either.

He winced, and something like sympathy crossed his face, but he didn’t ask anything else along those lines.

“What about cleaning?”

“I’m a neat person. I have to be to be a cook. Well, I’ll amend that, not all cooks are neat, but I am. There are codes to follow and health regulations. All my references will also gladly attest to my cleanliness at work. I do whatever needs to be done. If they need me to clean the kitchen top to bottom, I will. If they need someone to scrub toilets, I’ll do that too.”

She wasn’t afraid of hard work. If it got her some extra hours and a little bit more money to put away, her pride could handle it.

Besides, her pride had suffered plenty in her life. At this point, there was nothing wrong with an honest day’s work.

“I need someone to live at the house. Not just come in the mornings and leave at night. I could be called out in the middle of the night and I won’t have time to wait for someone to show up.”

“What do you do?” It seemed the right time to ask.

“I’m a plastic surgeon.”

She wanted to ask how many emergency facelifts were done in the middle of the night, but didn’t. Plastic surgery was as foreign to her as living on Mars. It didn’t even warrant a minute of time in her life.

“It’s not a problem to live there.”

Actually it was perfect, but she didn’t want to sound desperate. Her lease was up at the end of this month and she didn’t want to renew it, but didn’t have enough money put aside to find a better place either.

“Do you have a clean driver’s license?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Good. I have an extra car at the house. The kids need to be transported around, so I provide the transportation.”

“Okay.” She didn’t know what else to say at that point. This didn’t seem to be happening. She had to be dreaming. It was almost too good to be true. A place to live and a car. She wouldn’t have to worry about her next auto bill either. Or the new tires that she needed before the first snowfall.

“You would have to meet my kids first. They have to decide if they like you and want you. I won’t make any decision without their input. Or Jennifer’s, either. I value her opinion too much.”

“I’d expect no less than that from a parent.” Not that she’d ever seen much of that side of parenting.

Oh my God, this actually sounded like it might work out. She was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You’d need to clear a background check. The same check that all my employees have to clear for my practice.”

And there the heavy metal-studded shoe clanged loudly onto the floor. She’d have to admit her record might have marks on it. She wasn’t sure, she’d been a juvenile and wasn’t positive how it all worked. She would have needed money to consult with a lawyer to find out. Extra money and Quinn were like the symphony and skateboarding. They just didn’t coexist.

“I should be honest with you. I don’t know what my record will say.”

He lifted his eyebrow at her, then he crossed his arms. “That’s not negotiable. Even more so since you just admitted that.”

“I know. I get that. I completely do. I’ll be honest with you. I told you I was taking care of my siblings at age twelve. I ended up in foster care. We all did and I did some things I’m not proud of. Things I had to do to survive, but I don’t know if they will show up on my record.”

“What kind of things?” he asked, and this wasn’t looking good for her right now. But she’d come this far. Again, pride be damned.

“There wasn’t always enough funds for food or other items. At times I had to steal what was needed, and I was caught.”

She felt her face heat up. She was still embarrassed to this day.

That stupid day she was stressed because the baby wasn’t feeling good and the boys were starving. She wasn’t on her game and still blamed herself for being so sloppy.

“Explain the other items. Like drugs?” he asked.

He was sitting across from her calmly asking the question, but that didn’t change the way he was making her feel. She hadn’t noticed until this moment how much bigger he was than her. After all, he’d been sitting down, and she hadn’t paid attention to him when he first walked in.

But now she noticed how wide his shoulders were, and how large his hands were. It didn’t matter he seemed on the slim side, there was still an aura of strength and authority behind him.

“No,” she rushed to say. She cleared her throat and wanted to put her head down, but maintained eye contact and said as directly as she could. “Personal hygiene products. Soap, toothpaste…other things that public assistance won’t cover.”

She wasn’t sure she could get any more mortified than she was. It was bad enough telling a complete stranger about her horrific childhood and her criminal record. Telling him the things she stole, well, that kind of made it worse. Thankfully, he seemed to understand.

“Okay. Well, I appreciate you being honest with me. I’ll think about it and let you know. Obviously I just found out about my situation, so I’m sure I’ll have other applicants.”

She saw the hammer coming down to nail the coffin shut. She couldn’t let that happen.

“Just give me a chance. A trial run. Three months,” she said quickly. “The first month can be with Jennifer while she watches over and trains me. Then one month on my own. The third month is because if it doesn’t work out, I might have a hard time finding another place to live. I’ll need time.”

He hesitated and she could almost see him flipping the hammer over and pulling a nail out. Almost…

“I won’t let you down,” she continued. “I’ll take whatever background check you need. Fingerprinting, peeing in a cup, blood work. You name it. I’m being honest with you. I really don’t know what will show up. All I ever did was steal what we needed to survive and that was over a decade ago. I ended up in juvy for a short period of time, but I kept my nose clean. I really did.”

“I’ll tell you what. Give me your number and I’ll talk to Jennifer tonight.”

She pulled her pad out and wrote down her name and number, then continued on writing.

“I’m going to put down three references and their phone numbers for you, too. All restaurants in Lake Placid. Please feel free to call them. Two of them I’m working at right now. The third was just a short period of time for some extra cash, but I had trouble balancing all three jobs. I guarantee you will get nothing but glowing references, and I can get you more if you want.”

He reached across for the piece of paper she slid in front of him. Then she decided not to overstay her welcome. “Thank you. All I ask for is a chance. I’ll let you finish your breakfast in peace.”

She walked away and held her breath, praying to a God that had never listened to her before.

You can buy the book on Amazon right now!

Another teaser for you from Second Chance. If you want to catch up, you can read the Prologue and then Chapter 1.

Chapter 2 is called:

Mistake

After driving through the night Nick was completely exhausted, but he hadn’t wanted to stop. Part of him said to keep pushing and just get there. Get to the woman who always put him in his place when he was wrong, and praised him when he was right.

To the woman who would know the right thing to say to him to get him out of the hole he’d just dug.

His parents were too close to everything that had happened in the last year. His grandmother would be more of a neutral party. She would be able to see both sides of the story and tell him where he went wrong and how to fix it. How to fix his life.

Maybe he just wanted to hand it all over to someone else for once so he didn’t mess up again. Or maybe he wanted to be that teenager again with little to no responsibilities.

He should have listened to his parents years ago when they cautioned him about building his company too big and too fast and never giving himself a chance to live. A chance to enjoy life.

His grandmother was the epitome of take no bull, no holds barred when it came to her grandchildren. Her ways weren’t always conventional, but she knew what was best for those around her.

It was exactly the attitude he needed right now. Someone else to call the shots so he could put it behind him.

Pulling in front of the log cabin on Lake Placid, Nick looked around at the beauty surrounding him and just paused. Took a moment to reflect and look at how peaceful everything seemed.

He’d been here at least once a year his entire life. Summers were spent here when he was a child, weeks at a time, if not a month. Just him and Rene on the lake, running wild.

Then when he got older, his visits weren’t as long, but they were more frequent. A week in the winter for skiing, a week in the summer on the lake, a week in the fall admiring the scenery.

Lake Placid might be small compared to Richmond, but it made up for it in serenity, peace, and quiet.

Nick took a deep breath, got out of his car, and walked toward the front door. The door opened before he could even knock and there she stood. The love of his life. Or one of them. His mother was right up there with his grandmother. But no one held a candle to his grandmother.

No one—except possibly another woman…the one that disappeared twelve years ago and hadn’t been heard from or seen since.

“It took you long enough,” his grandmother said, looking at him sternly.

He dipped his head like a child being caught lying about taking the last piece of cake even with the chocolate smeared on his face. “I had work to do.”

“Don’t you always.” She held the door open wider for him. “We both know that isn’t true, but you needed to do what you could in order to run away from it, right?”

Nick walked up and stopped in front of his grandmother, her hair a light brown and cut in a shoulder-length bob, looking much younger than her seventy-five years. She’d always been active and fit, and looked no less than that now.

He reached toward her and hugged her tight, needing that reassurance only she could give, regardless of the fact he wanted to argue he wasn’t exactly running.

“How did you know I would come?”

“You always end up here when you’re battling something.”

Yeah, he did, she knew that, and she knew him well. She kissed him on the cheek. “Come on in. You look like hell. Let me get you something to eat or drink at the very least.”

“Thanks. I drove through the night, so I’m beat. Coffee would be good.”

“No coffee for you,” she said firmly. “It will only keep you up. You need to sleep. I’ll make you a sandwich. We can chat while you eat, then you can bring your stuff to your old room and take a nap.”

He smiled. She was still bossing him around and he didn’t mind in the least. This was why he came.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, knowing she would swat her hand at him.

She did, then said what she always did, “Don’t ma’am me. I’m not Southern. If you can’t call me Grandma, then call me Trixie.”

“You know I can’t call you Trixie without laughing.”

There was something about the name Trixie—short for Beatrice—that made him think of prostitutes working a street corner or turning tricks, and his grandmother knew it.

He’d once slipped and told her that when he was in his teens. She’d laughed so hard at him then, and whenever she knew he was down or needed a laugh, she’d tell him to call her Trixie, knowing he couldn’t.

“Have a seat on the couch then, and I’ll go make you some lunch.”

So he did what he was told and sat on the couch in her living room, then looked around. The house hadn’t changed much since he was a kid. A few new pieces of furniture but not much more. The same light blue paint on the walls, the same hardwood floors, and the same big brick fireplace.

He was always at peace here. Always so relaxed. It was no wonder he ended up here, or that his grandmother had expected him.

Less than two minutes later, she brought him out a plate with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and glass of milk. The same thing she’d fed him for years on his first day of a visit.

He wanted to remind her he was thirty-two, not twelve, but didn’t. He just picked the sandwich up and took a healthy bite, then a big swig of milk.

“So tell me what’s on your mind,” she said.

“Not much. I just need a breather. Can I stay here and work for a bit?”

“You can stay as long as you like. You know that. How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine. I wish everyone would stop worrying about me. Kendra is the one everyone should be asking about. I’m just the jerk that canceled the wedding.”

“You aren’t a jerk, Nick. If you didn’t love her, then you didn’t. You can’t force yourself to feel something for someone just because you want it. It’s there or it’s not.”

“It wasn’t there,” he said sadly. “I tried, I wanted it, but I couldn’t do it. She didn’t deserve to be led on the way she was. I thought having her as my wife would help. I thought she could put me on track, personally and professionally, but that was wrong and selfish of me to think that.”

“You didn’t lead her on, Nick,” his grandmother argued.

“How do you know?”

“Because that isn’t who you are. Leading her on would have been if you actually went through with the wedding even knowing you couldn’t give her what she wanted. She pursued you, and we all knew it. But deep down she isn’t the one for you, and we all know that, too.”

“I thought I wanted the same thing she did. I guess I do, but I don’t want it with her. Maybe I’ll never find the person to have it with. Maybe that person isn’t out there anymore.”

He’d had it once and threw it away. That was his biggest regret. Trying to find it with someone else only fed that guilt and regret more.

“Thinking and knowing are two different things. Be thankful you called it off now instead of trying to fix a mistake later down the road. Time will heal everyone.”

“I guess.” But time still hadn’t healed him. “Why do you keep looking in the kitchen? Are you expecting someone? A hot date?” he asked, joking.

Though the thought of some older gentleman calling on his dear old granny was making the sandwich turn in his stomach, he couldn’t understand why she was acting so antsy.

“No, I’m not expecting a hot date. You know better than that. Us Millers love only once. I lost my love twenty years ago. No one will ever replace your grandfather. And you know your mother and father were just meant to be. My Susan always knew who she wanted and who she loved, and she chose well with your father. So I’m thinking you Buchanans are the same.”

“Not me though, right? I didn’t do a good job of choosing.”

“You haven’t chosen yet, so don’t say that.”

He didn’t believe it though. Or maybe his grandmother was right. Maybe he was destined to have one soulmate and he’d lost her. Maybe he’d never find another.

“I guess time will tell. But for now, I’m going to get my clothes out of my car and go take a shower, then sleep. Don’t let me sleep too long. Wake me for dinner and I can take my best girl out for taking such good care of me.”

“You always were a charmer. I’ll let you do that.”

 

***

 

Mallory Denning rushed down the hill toward the dock and her waiting kayak, holding her breath the entire way. She didn’t even waste the time to put her life vest on…just threw it on top of the kayak, climbed in, pushed away fast, and headed back toward her own house a mile away.

She normally visited Trixie a few times a week and today was no different. She’d been stuck on work and needed some fresh air. Trixie always helped her get through it and relaxed her enough to get back on track.

But when she opened the back door, she’d heard Trixie talking. She stood back a few feet in the kitchen to see if Trixie had company or was on the phone.

Then she heard another voice. A male voice. A voice she hadn’t heard in almost twelve years. It was manlier now, but she still recognized it. The voice of her past, the voice of her dreams, the voice of her first love.

The voice of the boy—no, man now—that broke her heart.

Trixie always told her when family was coming for a visit. A forewarning for Mallory to stay away. To not be seen by anyone on the lake or in town when they were here.

It was always inconvenient to hide for weeks on end, but she was used to it by now.

Why hadn’t Trixie told her Nick was coming? She wondered what he was doing here. She knew all about his upcoming wedding and how it ended. Trixie always kept her informed, even though Mallory didn’t ask and didn’t want to know.

That was a life she’d put behind her and she didn’t need it to be relived. Part of the reason she still hid. No one from her past knew she was alive. No one knew anything but Trixie.

Still, she’d have to find a way to talk to Trixie and see how long Nick planned on being in town. She wasn’t prepared to stay in her house long. Since she’d overheard Nick was going to shower and take a nap, she figured she better run into town and stock up on food and anything else she needed now and not risk being seen.

What could he be doing here? Why did he have to come? And why did she have to hear his voice?

It would be exactly twelve years in a week since she’d left Richmond. She’d thought she’d done a great job hiding all this time.

Now Mallory was worried this unexpected trip of Nick’s might unbalance her. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt it deep in her soul.

Her world was going to be turned upside down once again.

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