Second Chances. Valerie Hansen
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of an overview of what you see as the future of the town.”
“Why me?”
“Because you’ve not only lived here for a long time, your job has put you right into the center of commerce.” He quickly pressed on, hoping to sway her decision before she had a chance to think it through. “So, since you’re about to close the office, how about I make reservations at Romano’s for tonight? We can relax and talk over dinner.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. No way!” Belinda’s heart was racing and her mouth was as dry as the bottom of Lick Creek in mid-July! Didn’t he remember anything about their last day together? About their quarrel? About the things she’d said to him? The passage of time had not changed her mind. Too many unanswered questions remained. Important questions. Questions she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask because hearing the answers might prove too painful.
“Why not? Got a date with your doctor friend? I hear you two are quite a couple.”
Obviously, Paul had been prying. “That’s none of your business,” she said stiffly.
“I see.”
Belinda was surprised when he didn’t immediately argue or try to manipulate her. As a practicing attorney he was obviously used to getting the results he wanted. Waiting for his counterattack, she pressed her lips into a thin line.
“Well, maybe some other time,” Paul said, straightening and smiling woodenly. “I’ll call you.”
She noticed that his smile no longer brought a mischievous sparkle to his dark, compelling eyes. His gaze had grown shadowy, brooding, the way it used to be. The way it had been the night of the awful fire.
That memory was enough to keep her from holding back any longer. “No. I don’t want you to call.” Belinda shook her head firmly for emphasis. “We have nothing more to talk about.”
Smile fading, he turned to leave. His voice sounded emotionless when he said, “For once, you may be right.”
Belinda stopped by her grandmother Eloise’s that evening. Eloise had sprained her ankle and was supposed to stay off her feet as much as possible. She wasn’t behaving, of course. Belinda hadn’t expected her to listen to medical advice, not even Sam’s, which was why she’d decided to drop in and volunteer to cook the evening meal.
Standing at her grandmother’s stove, Belinda got more and more distracted as she began to contrast the differences between Sam and Paul. Sam was steady, comfortable, and he fit effortlessly into her daily life. She’d never had a moment’s worry about what he might be doing or who he might be with. On the other hand, being around Paul had always made her feel disquieted, as if she were standing at the edge of a precipice in a stiff wind and was about to be blown over the edge. Even now, though he’d looked as refined as any other professional man, his presence had sent a chill up her spine and made the hair on the back of her neck prickle.
Daydreaming, she nearly burned the black-eyed peas she was fixing as a side dish.
Eloise hobbled up to rescue the smoking pot and stirred rapidly. “Goodness me. That was close.”
“Sorry. I guess I wasn’t paying enough attention.”
“No problem. I got to ’em in time.” She paused, then asked, “So, tell me, how was Paul Randall?”
Whirling, Belinda stared. “How did you know I’d seen him?”
“Lucky guess.” Eloise set the pot off to the side and plopped her slightly overweight body into a kitchen chair. “Well? Was he polite? Did he show his raisin’, or did he manage to behave himself?”
“If you mean, did he grab me and kiss me senseless the way he used to, the answer is no. He’s more out-of-place in Serenity than ever, but he didn’t say or do anything embarrassing.”
“That’s a relief. You never know what might get back to Sam if somebody was to see you and Paul acting too friendly.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m not even friends with Paul. Not anymore. Besides, Sam’s not the jealous type. He may be practical to a fault but he’s also predictable. He’d never jump to conclusions.” Belinda turned off the stove and scooped thin strips of sautéed steak and onions from her frying pan into a serving bowl. “He’s completely logical. That’s why I believe him when he says Serenity’s going to boom. He’s even bought the building where his office is. Says he’s planning to add another wing to it.”
“Well, well. I suppose that explains why he was so keen on being voted president of the Chamber. I’m not real happy to hear he wants to start changin’ things, though.” She lowered her voice to add, “’Course, he’s not from around here, so you never know.”
Pensive, Belinda recalled what Paul had always said about not being accepted by the established core of Serenity’s population. In his case, he was right. It wasn’t that folks were cruel. Some newcomers just fit in better than others, especially if they made an effort to become a useful part of the community. Sam was making that effort. Paul and his father never had.
She remembered the first time she’d set eyes on Paul. His father had come to Serenity because of his late wife’s shirttail relation to the Whitaker family and landed a job as a mechanic at the local gas station.
Paul had shown up for his first day as a senior at Serenity High sporting threadbare clothes, a worn leather jacket and a sullen, uncooperative attitude. Belinda had viewed him more as a lost soul than a rebel and had offered friendship. In no time, she’d fallen head-over-heels in love. She sighed. Too bad Paul’s feelings for her hadn’t been strong enough to overcome their differences.
“I’d like some of that before it gets cold,” Eloise gibed, gesturing toward the bowl Belinda was holding. “Unless you plan on keepin’ it all for yourself.”
The comment brought her back to the present with a jolt. “Of course not. I…I was just afraid it was too hot for you to handle, that’s all.”
“Oh? With that faraway look in your eyes I figured you might be thinking about how you felt when you ran into your old boyfriend today.” She grinned. “Was he too hot to handle, too?”
“Gram! Shame on you. Wash your mouth out!” Cheeks flaming, Belinda took her place at the table and refused to acknowledge her grandmother’s triumphant expression. It was impossible to ignore her jubilant comments, however.
“Aha! I thought so. Good! Maybe now we’ll see some action around here. A little honest competition should shake up Sam Barryman and get things moving. He may not be perfect but he’s the best catch around…and a doctor, to boot. You two have been courtin’ for a whole year. It’s time he got serious and asked you to marry him. Fish or cut bait, I always say.”
Belinda stared at her plate without seeing it. Sam had already asked her to be his wife—more than once—and she’d put him off. At the time, she hadn’t realized what was stopping her. Sam was personable and reliable, he went to her church, and she was truly fond of him. So why not make a commitment? Why, indeed. Now that she’d been around Paul again, she was beginning to understand that the problem lay with her, not with Sam.
And she didn’t like that conclusion one bit.
The Whitaker estate was a run-down relic from a bygone era. It was also a prime piece of real estate, which was why Paul had decided to spend a few extra days poking around in Serenity. He knew his elderly twin aunts had no spare funds with which to have the place independently appraised. He also knew that the sale of the property was their last chance to provide for the fulfillment of any dreams beyond day-to-day subsistence. At eighty-three, they didn’t have the option of going back to work teaching if they wanted anything more than the basic necessities.
He wheeled his black Lexus into the circular driveway of the old frame house and parked. The narrow track branched so that visitors who had arrived by carriage in the old days could enter by the front door, then send their driver to the back to stable the horses without