The little girl was adorable.

Allison gave her a second look. She seemed familiar. But Allison couldn’t have met her before. The red wagon in the driveway had Connecticut plates.

She glanced back at the father. Definitely she hadn’t seen him before. She would have remembered. He was slender and tall and moved with a natural grace that reminded her of John F Kennedy, from the old footage she’d seen on TV.

She watched as he scooped up his daughter onto his shoulders, then paused to talk to the movers for a minute. Next, he went to the garage and pulled out the tricycle. Gently he set the girl onto the seat.

“Give it a try,” he urged her. And then his gaze met Allison’s.

Hard to imagine a more glamorous life than being an accountant, isn’t it? Still, CJ Carmichael gave up the thrills of income tax forms and double entry bookkeeping when she sold her first book in 1998. She has now written over twenty novels and strongly suggests you look elsewhere for financial planning advice.

The Dad Next Door
C.J. Carmichael

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Laura Shin

In appreciation of all the books we have worked on

together and all that you have taught me.

CHAPTER ONE

THE EMPTY SEATS in his station wagon haunted Gavin Gray as he drove up to the biggest house on the crescent. He stopped the car and gazed through the windshield at the classic Cape Cod colonial. The house looked a little tired. Welcome to the club. But it had good bones. Cindy Buchanan, his real-estate agent, beckoned to him from the door.

“You have to see this one. It’s a real family home.”

Cindy was a friendly, plump woman in her midfifties. She’d been showing Gavin houses all day, her patience never wavering. He was sure she’d have felt terrible if she knew how much pain her cheerful words had just brought him.

A family home.

He turned around to face what was left of his family—one little girl strapped into a booster chair in the middle of the backseat. “Tory? Want to see another house?”

Predictably, his daughter offered no opinion, but she scrambled out willingly and held his hand as he led her up the sidewalk to the welcoming front porch.

“It has a huge pie-shaped yard. And it’s the only house on this road that backs onto the lake.” Seeing his concerned frown in reaction to her comment, Cindy added quickly, “But there’s a fence, so it’s perfectly safe.”

He walked through the rooms, hardly noticing the details. But then he stopped cold at the sight of the view from the kitchen windows. It was fabulous.

On Golden Pond had been filmed at Squam Lake and the town had never forgotten its moment of cinematic glory. Gavin had seen signs on the main road guiding tourists to the actual sites used in the movie.

“The house does need a little work.” Cindy ran a hand over a crack in the kitchen wall. “It’s changed owners several times in the past few years. You should have seen it when Old Man McLaughlin was still alive.”

He couldn’t have heard that correctly. “Did you say McLaughlin?”

“That’s right. It was just Adele and her daughter living here in the end. And when Marianne left home…”

He felt as if he’d been submerged in ice water. He couldn’t breathe. Was his heart still beating? “Marianne McLaughlin used to live here?”

“Yes. Do you know her?”

How many times had he asked himself that question? The ultimate answer being that he couldn’t have. But he wasn’t about to share that insight with Cindy Buchanan.

He looked around with sharpened interest, trying to picture the beautiful, remote woman in this place. “I used to, but I haven’t seen her in about six years.”

His breathing returned to normal as he contemplated the significance of what he’d just learned. Could it possibly be this easy? “Do you know where Marianne’s living now?”

“Afraid not. She came back once, to bury her mother in the family plot. I haven’t heard anything about her since then. But maybe someone in town has. How did you say you know her?”

He hadn’t. And he wouldn’t. “We were friends.”

“Quite the beautiful girl.”

True enough. Where looks were concerned, Marianne could not be beat.

Tory came round the corner then, moving so quietly that Cindy didn’t even notice her. His daughter had been wandering upstairs, checking out the bedrooms, but Gavin knew that if he asked her whether she liked what she’d seen, Tory wouldn’t have anything to say. Even when Samantha was alive she’d been reluctant to express an opinion, relying on her twin to do it for her.

He decided to try anyway. “So, what do you think?”

Cindy turned in time to see Tory shrug. The real-estate agent’s thin eyebrows rose in surprise. “Speaking of the devil, your daughter looks remarkably like…”

“I think I’ve seen enough.” He wasn’t interested in taking the conversation in that direction. Besides, he really had seen enough. The house was in need of work, but it was on a quiet street and the link to Marianne was a coincidence that couldn’t be ignored.

“I’d like to make an offer.”

Cindy Buchanan looked surprised but pleased.

ON ALLISON BENNETT’S thirtieth birthday she found a special delivery package on her front porch. It wasn’t a birthday gift, though. The return address was from Abby’s Print Shop in North Conway.

Darn. The wedding invitations.

She’d meant to cancel the order, but there’d been a lot of cancellations to take care of in the past two weeks and she’d dropped the ball on this one.

Breaking off an engagement six weeks before the wedding was a pain in the butt.

Since there was no sending them back at this point, she ripped open the box and pulled out one of the printed cards. They were lovely…. Buff card stock, silver print, very elegant. Avoiding a loose board she’d been meaning to fix, Allison sat on the front porch step to take a closer look.

Allison Moore Bennett and Tyler Paul Jenkins cordially request your presence…

She remembered the afternoon that she and Tyler had ordered these. They’d argued over the wording. Tyler had wanted traditional invitations, while she’d been in favor of something more casual. She read through the rest of it. The ceremony at the chapel on Church Island at three. Canceled. Reception to follow at the Lakeside Inn. Also canceled.

She sighed, and then lifted her head at the sound of heavy footsteps out on the street. New owners were moving into the McLaughlins’ old house today. Two men in baggy jeans and dark T-shirts carried a sofa from the moving van down the ramp and in through the front door. They’d been hard at work for over an hour and now the van was nearly empty.

Allison had been keeping tabs on their progress, though somehow she’d missed the arrival of the family itself. The new owners were already inside, she surmised from the red station wagon parked next to the garage, which was being used as an unloading area for all sorts of things. A lawn mower, a canoe, a mountain bike, a cherry-red tricycle…

She hadn’t been snooping. It was just that she’d had a number of chores to take care of out here this afternoon. The late summer sunshine was perfect for watering plants, sweeping the porch and shaking the cushions on her outdoor furniture.

Okay, she was snooping. But she couldn’t help being curious. The house next door, 11 Robin Crescent, had always been Allison’s idea of the perfect family home. It was larger than hers, a lovely colonial complete with a copper weather vane on the roof. Best of all, it backed onto the lake. When she was growing up, living on the other side of town, she’d spent a lot of time in that house.

Her somber mood returned as she thought of her childhood friend Marianne. They’d had fun together. They both loved art, though her talent had been no match for Marianne’s. And they’d spent hours in the sun and swimming together behind that house.

But somehow the good memories were always overtaken by the bad ones. Allison tried not to think of those as often. It was easier now that Marianne didn’t live here anymore. She’d moved away years ago, leaving her mother alone in that house until the day she died. Since then, several other families had taken up residence. But none had stayed longer than a year or two.

Allison had watched them come and go with envy. If she had had the money, she would have loved to buy the house herself. But she’d been lucky to afford the one she had—thanks to an inheritance from her grandmother.

The movers emerged from the house next door again. Instead of unloading more furniture and boxes, they grabbed brown bags from the cab of the van. A late-afternoon snack.

Allison realized she was hungry, too. Time to start dinner. Just as she was heading inside, though, her new neighbor and his young daughter made an appearance. He was a nice-looking man, about her age or maybe a few years older.

The girl was adorable. Allison gave her a second look—she seemed familiar. But Allison couldn’t have met her before. The red wagon in the driveway had Connecticut plates.

She glanced back at the father. Definitely she hadn’t seen him before. She would have remembered. He was slender and tall and moved with a natural grace that reminded her of John F. Kennedy, from the old footage she’d seen on TV.

Allison watched as the man scooped his daughter onto his shoulders, then paused to talk to the movers. Next, he went to the garage and pulled out the tricycle. Gently, he set the girl onto the seat.

“Give it a try,” he urged. And then his gaze met Allison’s.

She left the opened box of invitations on her porch and went to meet him halfway. “Hi! Welcome to the neighborhood. I’m Allison Bennett.”

He hadn’t shaved for a few days. Lucky for him, he was one of those men who managed to look sexy, rather than unkempt, as a result.

He offered a tired smile and shook her hand. “Thanks. It’s good to be here, finally. I’m Gavin Gray. And this is my daughter, Tory.”

Allison squatted to say hello, but the young girl wouldn’t look at her.

“Tory? Can you say hi to our new neighbor?”

Apparently not. She pedaled off down the sidewalk as if she hadn’t heard her father’s request.

That was when Allison placed the resemblance. Tory Gray looked a lot like Marianne McLaughlin had at that age. Dark hair, glowing skin and wide blue eyes. A miniature Snow White.

Even as a small child, Marianne’s beauty had worked to her advantage. In kindergarten, the little boys were forever sharing their lunchbox treats with her and all the girls scrambled to be her partner during gym and class projects.

Allison wondered if Tory’s grade-school years would be equally blessed.

“I’m sorry.” Gavin apologized for his daughter’s behavior. “She doesn’t mean to be rude. She’s just shy.”

“That’s okay. Is she starting grade one this year?”

He nodded, keeping his eye on the child. When she reached the end of the block, she turned the trike around and started back for home.

With the full sun in Gavin’s face, Allison saw lines around his eyes and mouth that she hadn’t noticed before. He didn’t just seem tired. He looked sad.

For that matter, so did Tory. She pushed the pedals on her tricycle grimly. No trace of pleasure on her pretty face.

“So…” Gavin began. “How long have you lived here?”

“In Squam Lake, all my life. But only in this house a few years.” Allison chatted about the town for a while, and Gavin explained that he was an architect, with plans to support himself here designing cottages.

“I used to work at a downtown office in Hartford, but I want to be around for Tory as much as possible. Provided I can line up enough clients to keep bread on the table.”

Admirable goals for a father. Only where was the mom? Inside unpacking? Gavin might think she was prying if she asked. Worse yet, if he was a single dad, he might think she was hitting on him.

“I should get going. I was about to make dinner.” She took a few steps toward her house. “Do you and Tory like lasagna? I’m having it for dinner and I always make extra. I’d be happy to bring over a casserole.”

Tory stopped her tricycle by her father’s feet. He held her hand as she got off. “What about it, Tory? Would you like lasagna for dinner?”

She looked at her father mutely. Gavin seemed disappointed by her silence, but also resigned—as if he’d expected nothing more. He forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “If it isn’t too much trouble, that would be great.”

AS SOON AS SHE STEPPED inside her house, Allison’s phone began to ring. The call was from one of the older women who lived on the block, Gertie Atwater. Gertie was an old friend of her mother’s, and she’d once worked for Allison’s grandmother, too. She still put in three afternoon shifts a week at The Perfect Thing.

“Well? What’s he like? I saw you talking to him.”

“He seemed…pleasant.” It wasn’t exactly the right description, but Allison couldn’t put words to the impression Gavin and his daughter had made on her.

“He’s certainly good-looking. And his daughter is a doll.” And then, most importantly, Gertie added, “There isn’t any wife in the picture, you know.”

Allison almost asked her how she knew that, but then she stopped. Of course Gertie would have quizzed Cindy Buchanan, the real-estate agent who’d sold the property.

Allison didn’t think the people who lived in Squam Lake were nosier than people in any other small town in America. But this was the sort of place where neighbors watched out for one another. At times—like now—they could seem to care just a little too much.

After Gertie’s call, Allison pulled out her mother’s recipe for lasagna. No sooner were the onions and garlic sautéing for the tomato sauce, than the phone rang again.

This time it was her dad. “Hello, sweetheart. Happy birthday. Are you having a good day?”

Without leaving time for an answer, he added, “Have you heard from Tyler?”

“He called to wish me a happy birthday,” she admitted. “But he was just being polite.” She had to make that completely clear, since her dad was having difficulty accepting her broken engagement.

“He still loves you.”

“I don’t…”

“It’s not too late to go through with the wedding. Tyler’s a nice guy, with a successful business. He’d be a good provider.”

“Dad, I can take care of myself.”

“Sure you can,” her father said. But she knew that despite the fact that she’d lived on her own for years and ran a successful business, he didn’t really believe that. He’d always been protective, and he’d become even more so since he and her mother divorced.

“I’m okay on my own, Dad. Honestly.”

He sighed and she could tell he was giving up on the lecture—for now. “We still on for dinner?”

“Of course. I’m bringing lasagna.” Even after all these years alone, her father had not learned how to cook for himself.

“Good. I bought a nice cake from the bakery. It’s chocolate—your favorite. We’ll have a real celebration.”

“Thanks, Dad. I’m looking forward to it.” She heard the beep that told her another call was waiting. This time it was her mother, in New York City.

“I’ve bought you a plane ticket to come and visit us for Thanksgiving. We’ll do some shopping. Take in a few shows.”

“That sounds wonderful.” She got along well with her stepfather and he was always tactful enough to make sure she had plenty of one-on-one time with her mom.

“In the meantime, are you sure you’re okay? I could take some time off from my job if you needed me.”

It was a generous offer, Allison knew. Her mother hadn’t returned to Squam Lake since the divorce. She hadn’t said anything, but Allison guessed the memories were too painful.

“Mom, I’m fine.”

“Okay. If you say you’re fine, then I believe you. Have a wonderful day, sweetheart. You deserve it.”

“I will. Love you, Mom. Talk to you next week.”

As she returned to her cooking, Allison thought about her parents. It had always bothered her that they’d given her no reason for ending their marriage. She supposed they were trying to shelter her. But she’d been an adult when they’d separated. Old enough to handle the truth.

Unlike the little girl next door. She’d made such a job out of riding that tricycle. Was a divorce the reason for the sadness in her eyes?

And her father’s, too?

CHAPTER TWO

MONDAY MORNING, Gavin woke up with a sick feeling in his stomach. It was hard not to think about the little girl who wouldn’t be starting grade one today. His little Samantha…

He took a moment to remember her, gazing at the photo of the twins that he kept by his bed.

Then he pulled himself to his feet, went to the washroom and forced himself to smile at his image in the mirror.

Just the act of smiling, according to research, made you feel happier. He wasn’t so sure about that, but he kept trying, nonetheless.

When he’d finished washing and dressing, he went to Tory’s room to help her select an outfit for her first day. She was already awake, sitting on her bed and staring woefully at her dresser.

“Would you rather wear shorts or a dress?”

No answer.

“Pink or blue?”

Tory just stared at him.

So, as usual, he set out some clothes, then made her breakfast. They walked to school together, met the principal and were shown to the first-grade classroom. He wasn’t surprised when Tory cried as he tried to leave her with her new teacher, and he ended up staying in the classroom for the first hour and a half. At recess, the teacher encouraged him to leave.

“I’ll call if Tory doesn’t settle in after you’re gone.”

Gavin returned to the house on Robin Crescent. Stepping around open boxes, he made his way to the kitchen. The movers had placed the table and chairs in the alcove overlooking the lake and now he sat and pivoted so he could look out over the water.

There was much to do, yet he felt paralyzed.

Over the weekend he’d assembled Tory’s bed, unpacked her clothing and set up her dollhouse. Even so, her room looked bleak. It could do with a coat of paint, at the very least.

The rest of the house needed work, too. At some point he’d have to fix the cracks in the walls and replace the grimy light fixtures and worn carpets. Maybe he should have bought a place in better repair.

He still couldn’t believe that he and Tory were living in the house in which Marianne had grown up. Many times she must have sat in this exact spot. He tried to imagine what a teenaged Marianne would have thought about as she looked out onto the lake. But he couldn’t. He’d never been able to understand what went on in her head.

He certainly couldn’t understand the way she’d left their kids, never looking back, never phoning or writing or making any contact at all. They’d been one-year-olds. To him so sweet and adorable. He couldn’t imagine leaving them. At least not by choice.

Which had led him to wonder if Marianne was dead. But his calls to hospitals and police stations in the area had turned up nothing.

For a while he’d considered hiring an investigator, but his brothers had talked him out of it.

“She knows where you are,” Nick, ever the hard-nosed cop, had pointed out. “If she doesn’t care enough to keep in touch, you and the girls are better off without her.”

Gavin had tried to accept his brother’s advice. But Samantha’s death had set him thinking about Marianne again. He wondered what she’d been doing with her life for the past six years. How was she earning a living? Had she found a man who made her happy?

And what would she say when she found out about Sam’s death? Would she finally be sorry? Would she regret leaving all those years ago?

Most importantly, would she realize how much Tory needed her now? Sam’s death had hit the poor kid so hard. Gavin hated knowing how much his daughter hurt. The pain was hard enough for him to handle. How could a child be expected to cope?

He rubbed a hand over his face.

An hour went by. There was no call from the school. He hoped that meant that Tory was settling in.

Light danced on the lake. A pair of ducks landed on the water, then drifted out of view. The pain in his chest seemed to ease a little. He took a deep breath, grateful for the respite.

Another hour went by.

In the first months after Sam’s accident, many days had passed this way, with Gavin simply sitting, staring into space, accomplishing nothing aside from the immediate chores required to care for Tory.

Reminding himself that he wasn’t going to live that way anymore, Gavin finally dislodged himself from his chair. He sorted through boxes until he found the ones from his old office. Since he had a new house to pay for and a daughter to support, this seemed like a good place to start.

In the upstairs room he’d chosen for his workspace, he assembled the legs on his drafting table, then set up lamps and unpacked his office chair. Next, he ripped open one of the moving cartons and found his files.

By the time he had them organized in his filing cabinet, it was shortly after two. He set the alarm on his watch so he wouldn’t forget to pick Tory up from school at three-thirty.

As he stacked books on the windowsill, a movement outside caught his attention. The cute neighbor who lived next door and made such good lasagna was coming home.

The lush green leaves of a big oak tree partially obscured his view. Still, he managed a glimpse of her light-blue dress as she unlatched her gate and crossed to her porch. By the time she reached the door, he couldn’t see her.

She’d been friendly the other day, but not too friendly. He was glad about that. He wanted to get along with his new neighbors, but that was all. He wasn’t ready for anything more. Certainly nothing romantic. Since Marianne had left, he hadn’t had time to think about women. And since Sam…He hadn’t had the heart.

Sure, Allison Bennett was pretty. And she seemed kind and thoughtful. Maybe at some other point in his life he’d have considered asking her out. But this just wasn’t the time.

There was that casserole dish to return, however.

He’d put it in the dishwasher last night. Now he ran downstairs and pulled it out, relieved to find it was spotless. He might as well take it back before he forgot.

Gavin left his house, passing by the old oak en route to Allison’s. The tree was one of several that bordered the road, branches arcing over the pavement to form a natural bridge from one side of the street to the green patch in the middle.

Robin Crescent was going to be breathtaking in a couple of weeks, when the leaves began to change. Living in New England, you couldn’t help but love the fall. Still, Gavin’s sense of anticipation for the coming season was marred by the memory of how much Marianne had hated it.

“Why does everyone think autumn is so beautiful? The leaves are dying. Don’t you think it’s sad?”

She’d had empathy enough for the trees. Why not for her own daughters?

Frustrated to find himself dwelling on the past again, Gavin rapped on his neighbor’s door a little harder than he’d intended to.

Allison responded at once. She was shaking her hair out of a ponytail and he had an unanticipated visceral reaction as her shiny maple syrup-colored hair fell loose to frame her face.

He resisted the impulse to touch it. Instead, he held out the baking dish. “Thanks very much. The lasagna was great.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it.”

He found it hard dealing with new people—people who didn’t know about the tragedy. His daughter’s death wasn’t the sort of background information you could casually insert into a conversation, like telling someone you were an architect.

“Nice place.” He glanced around, admiring everything he could see from the foyer. Warm colors, interesting artwork, an intriguing French country armoire.

Allison’s house wasn’t showroom perfect, like the rooms the designers at his old firm used to create. This simply felt like a home. He needed to fix up his new place like this. Yet he felt overwhelmed by all the work it would take to pull it off. “Did you use a decorator?”

“Didn’t need to. That’s what I do—I work out of my shop downtown. You may have noticed it. The Perfect Thing?”

He was impressed. “That’s yours? We walked by on Saturday when we were looking for a café. You’ve got lots of beautiful stuff.”

“Thank you. The shop used to be my grand-mother’s. When I was a kid, I would hang out with her on weekends. I thought I was a big help—at least my grandma made me feel as if I was.”

She smiled, obviously thinking of happy memories, and then she stuffed a folder of papers into a leather tote bag. He recognized them as architectural drawings of interiors. Noticing his curiosity, she explained, “These plans are for one of my clients. I forgot them this morning and we’re meeting at the store in fifteen minutes.”

This was a perfect opportunity to ask if she was accepting new clients. Maybe she could make Gavin’s house look as good as hers did.

But was it smart to hire his next-door neighbor? Especially when Gavin had already decided that he wanted to be friendly, but not too friendly?

His watch began to beep. Perfect timing. He pushed the button to silence the alarm. “I have to pick up my daughter from school.”

“And I have to get back to the store.”

He nodded. “Thanks again for the lasagna.”

Closing the door behind himself, he started off in such a hurry that he almost tripped over a loose board. He regained his balance, and then noticed a piece of creamy paper trapped under the board. It was a wedding invitation.

With Allison’s name front and center.

Gavin had a strange reaction to the news that she was getting married in four weeks. It was like…disappointment.

Which wasn’t especially rational, considering his lack of interest in the woman.

TORY SEEMED FINE when Gavin met her at the classroom door, but by the time they got home she was in tears.

“I don’t want to go back there.” She set her mouth in a pout that looked more sad than willful.

Tory wasn’t a child who cried a lot. Even as a baby she’d been content to let her twin sister make all their demands. It was always Samantha’s cry that signaled the need for a feeding, a diaper change or a desire to play or be cuddled.

“Don’t you like your teacher?” Ms. Carter had seemed cheerful and kind to Gavin.

Tory shrugged.

“Weren’t the other kids friendly?”

She shrugged again.

Gavin rubbed the stubble on the side of his face, feeling a little lost. Why was it so hard to communicate with his own child? Maybe if their home was a little more comfortable…

He looked around the maze of boxes for a place to sit. He could barely see the sofa, let alone relax on it. Tomorrow he really needed to make a bigger dent in the unpacking. In the meantime, he and Tory had to get out of here.

“Let’s go for a walk. We’ll head downtown and grab a bite to eat.”

Once they were outside, he tried to raise the subject of school again, but Tory was more interested in collecting rocks than in talking. They stopped at the drugstore to buy school supplies she needed, and then moved on to the Apple Pie Café.

Gavin made a halfhearted effort to let Tory choose from the menu, but when that didn’t work, he ordered burgers and shakes for both of them.

He waited until the server left to broach the topic one more time. “Tory, you want to learn to read and write, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“And you want to make friends, too. Right?”

She looked more uncertain about this.

“You do want to make friends,” he assured her. “That’s what Sam would want you to do.”

Tears filled Tory’s eyes again, and Gavin wondered if mentioning her sister had been the wrong thing to do.

The server returned with their food and Gavin opened Tory’s burger to take out the pickle. If Sam had been here, he’d have given her Tory’s pickle and his, too. But he shouldn’t think about that. Shouldn’t look at Tory and imagine another little girl sitting right beside her…

Double trouble. That’s what his brother Matthew had called them, though always with a smile. He’d been a rock of support to Gavin in those first years after Marianne had left, always finding time to call or visit despite the demands of his job and his own family.

Then, again, after Sam’s death, Matthew had been the one person who had really seemed to understand what he was going through. He’d leaned on Matt a lot. Too much, perhaps. It had never occurred to him that maybe his brother needed a little support, too.

But plowing through each day and helping Tory get through hers had been about all he could manage.

Gavin left the subject alone after that. He was glad to see that despite her unhappiness about school, there was nothing wrong with Tory’s appetite. The first while after Sam’s accident she hadn’t eaten much, and Gavin still felt she had some catching up to do.

After they’d finished their meal and settled the bill, they started for home. Tory paused at one of the store windows along the way.

It was Allison Bennett’s shop, The Perfect Thing.

The sofa in the display window invited customers to come inside and get comfortable. Blankets and pillows had been artfully arranged around a tray holding a pretty teapot and two china mugs.

As she’d done in her own home, in this window Allison had created a heartwarming sense of “home.” The exact kind of home he intended to design himself, now that he was starting his own business.

The exact kind of home he wanted to live in, as well.

“Can we go inside, Daddy?”

He was curious to see more, too.

A bell chimed as he opened the door. A well-dressed woman in her forties stood at a table in the back, flipping through a book of fabric samples. Though he couldn’t see Allison, he could hear her speaking. “I think I’ve got just the thing. Hang on a minute.”

Tory spotted a cabinet filled with miniature figurines of people, animals and birds. She squealed with pleasure. “Can I look, Daddy?”

He went to the cabinet with her, noting the ones she seemed to like the most. Her birthday was in October. The miniatures would make a terrific gift.

“These are more expensive,” Allison said, “but just feel them. Pure raw silk. Scrumptious.” She stepped into his line of vision as she set another heavy book of samples before her customer. “If you want to take these home to see them in your bedroom, you can sign them out.”

She glanced up and the moment she spotted him her spine stiffened and her cheeks turned pink.

He smiled. “My daughter is fascinated by your miniatures.”

“Is Tory here?” She went over to the cabinet. “Hi, Tory. Let me unlock this for you.”

Allison’s customer in the back decided she wanted to borrow both fabric books and so Allison left Tory with the figurines as she made a note of the woman’s name and the books she’d taken. When she came back to Tory, she removed a figurine of a woman in Victorian dress from the cabinet.

“This one’s my favorite. Isn’t she beautiful?”

Gavin left the two of them to talk and wandered farther into the shop, drawn by the unique merchandise and the clever displays. Every time he doubled back, he discovered something new.

Several things here would look great at home, he thought. That mirror. The blue-and-red rug. A leather ottoman. At least he thought they would look great. He didn’t entirely trust his own instincts on this. Though he had a good eye for design, soft furnishings had never held much interest for him.

As he browsed, he could hear the murmur of Allison and Tory’s conversation. He was astonished by how much his daughter had to say. She’d barely looked at Allison when they’d met on moving day, and it usually took her a long time to warm up to strangers.

Finally, he had to interrupt. “We should be getting home, Tory.” Allison looked up at him. She had cat’s eyes, green and curious. “I hope we didn’t take up too much of your time.”

“Absolutely not. It’s been fun.” Allison locked the cabinet with an old-fashioned brass key. He focused on her hands, small and delicate, with long fingers and nicely kept nails. The real kind, not the shiny fake ones with white tips that the women in his office back in Hartford had favored.

Tory said goodbye and thanks, without any prompting from her father. It was only as they were walking along the sidewalk toward home that one little detail struck him.

Allison hadn’t been wearing an engagement ring.

CHAPTER THREE

THE WEEK FELT LONG to Allison. She thought about her new neighbors often, but she hadn’t seen them since their impromptu visit to her shop on Monday. Twice, she had had dinner with her father, and then she spent a couple of evenings sorting out her fall inventory, and finally it was Friday.

She closed her shop at six o’clock sharp. It had been a slow day, and she told herself to be thankful for that. In a couple of weeks, when the leaves started changing, tourists would flock to the area and she’d be busy enough. Just as she was about to head for home, her friend Sandy called.

“So, how are things going?”

Allison knew that Sandy meant well, but the sympathy in her tone was annoying. She purposefully made her voice upbeat and happy. “Fine. Everything’s great.”

“Got plans for tonight?”

Though she’d been looking forward to her evening alone, Allison hated to admit it. “No.”

“I could arrange a last-minute potluck at our place. Daniel has this friend I’ve been wanting to introduce to you.”

“Friend?”

“A guy, actually. Barry. He just split with his wife and…”

“No, thanks.” The matchmaking had begun. Allison had known it would be only a matter of time. “I’m not ready to start meeting new guys.”

“Are you sure?”

There was something in Sandy’s voice that hinted at facts that remained unspoken. “Why?”

“Tyler’s already met someone. They’re going out tonight. Gosh, Allison, I didn’t want to be the one to tell you.”

“It’s okay. Really.” And it was. “I hope he has a good time.”

“You could come for dinner, anyway. I don’t have to invite Barry.”

“Thanks, Sandy, but it’s been a busy week at work.” Sort of. “And I have a lot of catching up to do at home.”

Once Sandy had accepted that she really was okay, that she wouldn’t be going home and crying her eyes out, Allison was able to leave the shop.

She wasn’t sure why she’d declined the invitation, when actually she was ready to start dating. It was just that the guy had to be someone special. He had to be…

“Oh, sorry!” As she rounded the corner to Robin Crescent, she almost tripped over Tory on her tricycle. Her father, hovering a foot or two behind her, apologized on his daughter’s behalf.

“We shouldn’t have been going so fast.”

“You weren’t,” she assured him. “It was the hedge. It blocked my view.”

He’d put a hand on Tory’s handlebars and now he steered her to the far side of the walk. He was a protective dad, Gavin Gray.

Also…kind of sexy.

He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt that showed off nice broad shoulders and a flat stomach. And why was she noticing?

She transferred her attention to his smiling daughter. Since showing her the miniatures, the little girl had warmed up considerably.

“Hi, Tory. It’s a great night for a bike ride. Having fun?”

“Yes.”

“How was the first week of school?” She knew she’d asked the wrong question when Tory’s smile faded instantly.

“It takes a while to get used to a new place and new people,” Gavin said diplomatically. “But we should let Allison go on her way, Tory. I’m sure she has things she needs to be doing.”

Allison had no things that needed doing, but she didn’t correct him. Every time she met him, Gavin seemed determined to keep their relationship pleasant but distant. She could have accepted that, but there were also times when she thought she read something else in his eyes.

Interest. Attraction.

Or was that just wishful thinking on her part?

She said goodbye and went home to leftovers from her most recent dinner with her father. Less than an hour later, as she was contemplating her television options for the evening, she heard a knock at the door.

She was surprised to find Tory on her porch.

“Hi.” The little girl’s expression was expectant.

“Hi, Tory. Where’s your dad?”

“Talking on the phone.” Tory looked past her. “Do you have any of those toys you had at the store?”

“I do have a cool collection of salt and pepper shakers, but I’d better talk to your father first. Does he know where you are?”

She’d only just asked the question when she heard Gavin’s voice calling from next door. “Tory? Are you out here?”

Allison stepped out to the porch and waved at him. “She’s at my place.”

“Thank God.” He dashed over, shaking his head. “Tory, what are you doing? You’re not supposed to leave the house without telling me.”

“I didn’t cross the street, Daddy.”

He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. A fine sheen of moisture was visible on his forehead. Allison wouldn’t have blamed him for being upset, but he seemed more than that.

He took another breath. “Sorry for the interruption, Allison. Tory, we’d better go home and review a few rules before we watch our movie.”

“But Allison has something to show me.”

“Allison’s busy.”

Seeing the little girl’s face begin to crumple, Allison felt that she had to speak up. “She could stay for a while, if that’s okay with you.”

“But I’m sure you and your fiancé have plans.”

His assumption startled her. “Did someone tell you I was engaged?”

“I saw a wedding invitation on your porch. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have read it.”

“No problem. But actually my fiancé and I recently split up. The invitations were delivered because I forgot to cancel with the printer.”

“Oh.” He looked at her speculatively, before assuming a polite, neutral expression again. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Tired of sympathy, she purposefully misunderstood him. “It wasn’t a large order. We had planned on a small wedding.”

“I didn’t mean about the printer.” His eyes sparkled, amused.

“The broken engagement part is okay, too. Better to figure it out now than later.”

“If it didn’t feel right, then, yes.”

She paused, wondering what his story was. She’d assumed he was divorced, but she’d seen no indication that he shared custody with Tory’s mother.

So maybe he was widowed.

“Can I see the toys now?” Tory was tired of a conversation that she couldn’t really follow.

“Tory, we’re interrupting….”

“I was going to show her my collection of salt and pepper shakers. They’re based on characters from nursery rhymes. I thought she’d get a kick out of them.”

“I’m sure she would, but…”

“And then I thought we’d bake cookies,” Allison added on impulse.

Tory’s eyes grew round.

“Maybe another night.” Gavin took his daughter’s hand, but she didn’t move when he tried to lead her away.

“Daddy, please?”

How could he resist that face? Allison certainly couldn’t. “Really, Gavin, I’d love to have her company.”

He must have seen that she was sincere, because a moment later he relented. “Fine.”

Tory produced a brilliant smile.

“See that cupboard?” Allison pointed to the hutch in the dining room. “That’s where I keep the salt and pepper shakers. Try and guess which nursery rhymes they match.”

“Okay!” Tory dashed off and a moment later she called out, “I see Jack and Jill. And Puss in Boots.”

“Good work, Tory. I’ll be there in a minute to get them down for you.” She smiled at Gavin. “Don’t worry. We’re going to have fun.”

She could tell it took some effort for him to leave alone. Recalling his earlier anxiety, Allison wondered if there was a reason he was so protective.

Did it have anything to do with the missing mother?

Allison set aside her curiosity and resolved to have a good time with Tory. She let the child play with the salt and pepper shakers for a while and when she’d tired of that, they went to the kitchen to mix cookie dough.

“What kind should we make?” Allison asked.

Tory shook her head. “You pick.”

“Oatmeal raisin or chocolate chip?”

“I don’t care.”

Assuming she was just being polite, Allison made the most obvious choice. “Well, let’s do chocolate chip, then.”

She was rewarded with another big smile.

THE HOUSE FELT EMPTY without his daughter. Gavin knew he ought to take advantage of the time to do some unpacking. He got as far as setting out the lawn chairs on the deck. The view was so enticing, he settled on one of them.

A couple of ducks were feeding in the grass along the lakeshore. The sinking sun cast long shadows over the water. Gavin stared into the dark patches and thought of the days when sitting and doing nothing would have horrified him. He wondered if he’d ever get his old energy back.

Time passed the way it usually did when he was in one of these moods, with his brain stuck in neutral, just like his body.

Life was less painful this way.

At some point, the phone began to ring. He wanted to ignore it, but knowing it might be Tory, he hurried inside.

The number on display was a familiar legal firm in Hartford. “Matt?”

“Hey, bro. How’s the new place?”

Gavin perched on one of his many moving cartons. “Fine. How are things with you?”

“Don’t ask.”

“It’s kind of late to be at the office, isn’t it?”

His brother sighed. “Like I said, don’t ask.”

“Is it a new case?”

Matthew didn’t reply.

Just screw it for once, Gavin wanted to say. No matter how important work seems to you right now, your family is more important. Go home. Be with them.

“Say hi to Gillian and the kids for me. Tory and I miss you guys.” That was the one bad thing about this move. They were too far away from his brothers and his mom. He and his siblings didn’t always see eye-to-eye, but ever since they’d been kids, Sunday afternoons had been family time. “Have you heard from Nick lately?”

“Not for a while.”

Gavin could guess why. “Must be a new girlfriend in the picture.”

“It’s hard to keep track,” Matthew agreed. “You give Tory a hug from us. Is she really handling the move okay?”

“It’s been an adjustment,” Gavin admitted. “But she’s taken to one of our neighbors. When Tory’s around Allison, she’s almost like herself again.”

“That’s great. Are they in the same grade?”

“Um, no. Allison’s an adult.”

“An adult, huh? Older?”

“A few years younger than me, I’d guess.”

“And pretty? Unattached?”

It was his turn to say, “Don’t ask.”

Matthew laughed. “Okay, I won’t. But I have a feeling I’ll be hearing that name again soon.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Remembering Allison’s warm smile and her curious green eyes, Gavin thought maybe it was advice he should be giving himself.

TORY HAD NEVER MADE COOKIES before, and she was eager to help. As Allison slid the first batch into the oven, the young girl settled on a stool so she could keep an eye on them through the oven door.

“This is fun.”

Allison opened the dishwasher and loaded the dirty dishes. “What’s your favorite part?”

“Adding the chocolate chips.”

“I thought you were going to say licking the beaters.”

“That was good, too.”

She was so easy to please. Allison grinned, thinking she hadn’t enjoyed herself this much on a Friday night in ages. And that included when things had been going well between her and Tyler.

Seven minutes later, the timer rang and Allison pulled out the first tray of cookies. She put two on a plate for Tory and poured her a glass of milk.

“Allison?” Tory’s mouth was smeared with chocolate. “Do you have a sister?”

“No. I’m an only child like you.” Allison could tell right away that she’d said something wrong. “What is it, Tory? Have I made you sad?”

“I had a sister.”

Had. The word hit her like a solid punch. She tried to catch her breath. “Did you?”

“Sam was supposed to hold Daddy’s hand like me, but she ran away. She wanted to pet the dog. But she didn’t see the motorcycle.”

Allison froze. It sounded as if Tory’s sister had been in an accident, and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing. No wonder Gavin had freaked out when Tory disappeared. The poor man.

“I’m so sorry.” She stroked Tory’s shoulder. Her impulse was to change the subject, but Tory must be talking about this because she wanted to. Maybe she even needed to. “How old was your sister?”

“Same as me.”

“You were twins? Oh, honey. You must miss your sister so much.”

“Sam liked cookies. She liked chocolate chips the best.”

Allison drew in a shaky breath. This was okay. Tory wasn’t falling apart. She couldn’t, either. “What do you like the best?”

Before the little girl could answer, the doorbell rang.

“That’s prob’ly my dad.” The smile on Tory’s face said everything about her feelings for her father. She slid off the stool and ran for the front door.

Allison waited in the kitchen. She felt awkward facing Gavin after Tory’s revelations. No wonder he looked so tired and sad all the time. What did you say to someone who had lost a child? What could you possibly say?

CHAPTER FOUR

AS SOON AS HE SAW his daughter, Gavin felt better. Tory’s mouth and hands were smeared with chocolate. She actually looked happy. “We made chocolate chips, Daddy.”

“Is that why it smells so great in here?”

“Sorry I couldn’t get to the door,” Allison called from the back of the house. “Come on through to the kitchen.”

He swung Tory up onto his shoulders, then followed the sound of Allison’s voice. Her house was a lot smaller than his and it only took a few steps to arrive in the kitchen, where Allison was removing a tray from the oven. She slid the hot cookies onto wire racks, then nodded toward a previous batch.

“Help yourself.”

She glanced at him for only an instant, but it was long enough for him to realize that somehow she knew about Samantha. He’d seen that look, a mixture of kindness and sorrow and discomfort, too often not to recognize it. Tory must have said something.

He took her up on the offer of a cookie, but didn’t taste a thing as he bit into it. Hoping to distract himself, he checked out the room.

It was decorated in French country style. The focal point was an amazing copper hood over a stove that looked as if it belonged to another era. The counters were butcher block and a beautiful cream farmhouse sink was inlaid into the surface.

A kitchen like this would be perfect for the cottage he was designing right now. Not to mention for his own house.

Should he reconsider hiring Allison to help with the decorating? “Your kitchen is beautiful.”

“Thanks. I redid it when I bought the place.”

“Did you do all the design work yourself?”

She nodded.

“Our kitchen could use some freshening up. In fact, the whole house is in need of paint, window coverings and carpets.”

“If you’re thinking of hiring someone to consult on the project, I’d be glad to show you my portfolio.” She hesitated, seeming to sense his reluctance. “Or I can recommend someone from North Conway if you’d prefer.”

“If I was going to hire anyone, it would be you.” But he still wasn’t sure where he wanted to draw the line with his neighbor. Tory liked her, he liked her…But somehow this all seemed too easy. “I wouldn’t want to impose. You seemed busy at the store.”

“Actually, I have some spare time in my schedule since I just canceled a three-week holiday.”

For the wedding and the honeymoon, he realized. He wondered what had happened to make them call off the wedding. Was Allison heartbroken about it? If so, she was doing a good job of hiding her pain.

“Will you make my room pretty?” Tory asked from her perch on his shoulders. “Daddy said we were going to paint it.”

“I’d love to help you with that, Tory.” As if sensing Gavin’s doubts, she added, “You wouldn’t have to pay me. I’d do it for fun.”

“Of course I’ll pay you.” He realized he was committed now. And maybe it was for the best. He hadn’t even managed to unpack on his own.

“Well, squirt.” He pulled on Tory’s legs. “I think it’s time we started that movie.”

“Can we watch it here?”

He didn’t blame Tory for wanting to stay. He did, too. “Allison’s probably seen Mary Poppins before.”

“That’s always fun to watch. Why don’t you bring the movie over? I’ll make popcorn.”

Popcorn was the final straw. “Pleeease, Daddy?” Tory pleaded, and Gavin couldn’t resist.

“Okay. I’ll run home and get the DVD.” He lifted Tory off his shoulders and settled her on a stool. By the time he returned, Allison was scooping popcorn into three paper bags with Tory’s help.

“Just like the theater, Daddy.”

Allison’s family room was wonderfully cozy for watching movies, with an overstuffed sofa and lots of cushions and blankets. Gavin was reminded of the show window at her store.

“Can I sit in the middle?” Tory plopped herself onto one of the down-stuffed cushions, and he and Allison settled themselves on either side.

By the time she’d finished her popcorn, though, Tory was getting sleepy. She settled her head on a pillow on her father’s lap and Allison covered her with a light blanket.

The movie was only half over when Tory fell asleep. Gavin stroked her fine hair, then smiled at Allison. “She’s down for the count.”

Allison looked at him solemnly. In her eyes he saw the same compassion he’d glimpsed earlier.

“Tory told me about her sister today. I’m really sorry, Gavin.”

He was relieved she knew. And glad he hadn’t been the one to have to tell her. “It’s been hard on her.”

“She told me they were twins.”

“Yeah. Samantha was the firstborn. It really seemed to make a difference with their personalities. From day one, Sam led the way for her sister. Tory’s been lost without her.”

“There was a set of twins in my grade at school, and they were amazingly close.”

“That was Sam and Tory. Sam was very protective. She seemed to know what her sister wanted better than Tory knew herself.”

“Is that why Tory’s so hesitant about decisions? I thought she was just shy.”

“She wasn’t acting shy tonight.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his daughter so enthusiastic, so happy, so…alive.

“That’s true.”

“I’m sorry we took over your evening.”

“It’s been great. Honestly. Tory’s a real sweetie.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen her this happy,” Gavin admitted. “Even before Sam’s accident, she was the quiet one. Maybe things would have been different if she’d had her mother.”

He wondered if Marianne had any idea of the gaping hole she’d left behind. If she could see how much Tory was hurting now, surely she’d want to be here.

“Was their mother in the accident, too?”

“No. She left long ago.”

“Left?”

“Yeah.” He was surprised to discover that he actually wanted to tell her more, but Tory stirred just then. She stretched out her arms and yawned. “Is the movie over, Daddy?”

The DVD had continued to play, though Gavin and Allison hadn’t paid much attention to it. Gavin hit the stop button on the remote control. “It’s over for tonight. Come on, sweetheart. We need to get you to bed.”

He sat up and scooped his daughter into his arms. She snuggled her face against his chest and he kissed the top of her head. She smelled like popcorn and chocolate-chip cookies.

He noticed Allison watching them, a tentative smile on her face.

“Hand me your keys,” she said. “I’ll get the front door for you.” A plate of cookies she’d covered with plastic wrap was waiting in the kitchen and she took that, too, leaving her own house unlocked as she accompanied them across the lawn.

The night was still and quiet, and the cool air, hinting at autumn, was a surprise. Gavin held Tory closer to his chest and walked briskly. Allison unlocked their front door, pushing it wide open, then stepping inside after they’d paused to turn on the lights.

“Thanks. I’ll be right back.” He carried Tory up the stairs to her room, where he settled her into bed.

“Daddy…” she began, but she fell asleep before she could finish whatever it was she was going to say.

He stared at her for a few seconds, his heart filled with love for the fragile creature in his care. A parent’s first job was to keep his children safe, and he’d failed with Sam.

He had to do better for Tory.

ALLISON WASN’T SURE if Gavin expected her to go or stay. She closed the door and decided to give him a few minutes, anyway. Glancing around, she was surprised to see so many boxes stacked against the walls.

They’d been here for over a week. Why was it taking so long to get settled?

Maybe the task was overwhelming. Despite all the previous owners, not much had changed since the McLaughlins had lived here. The house desperately needed paint and new flooring. Allison hoped Gavin was serious about letting her help. Whether she was paid or not, it didn’t matter to her. She’d love to get her hands on this place.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Gavin was back. He noticed her scrutiny and shrugged apologetically. “It’s a mess, I know. I just can’t seem to motivate myself to deal with it.”

“Moving is always tough. It must be even harder when you have a young child.” And if you were depressed over the loss of another child.

She wanted to go back to what they’d been talking about earlier. The twins’ mother. Why had she left? Was she in touch, at all?

“That’s a good excuse. But I could be making better use of my time.”

“Well, if you were serious about letting me help you, I’d be glad to do it. I’ve always loved this house. I had a…” She paused. “A friend who used to live here.”

“Really? Who was your friend?” It was too dark to see Gavin’s face clearly. But he definitely sounded interested.

“Her name was Marianne McLaughlin.”

Gavin went still and silent. Had she said something wrong?

“You and Marianne McLaughlin were friends?” he finally asked, slowly, as if it were some unbelievable thing.

“Sometimes it felt more like enemies, but yes. We were in the same grade. Anyway, the point is, I know this house. Marianne had the run of the place when she was growing up, and we spent a lot of time here.”

She laughed, but Gavin didn’t join in.

“I’d been meaning to ask if you happened to know her.”

“Why—do you know Marianne, too?” Her good mood evaporated. Suddenly she felt a chill, as if a ghost had just brushed past her. She had a flashback to her childhood, to the feeling she’d get whenever Marianne took something of hers. It had happened a lot.

“Yeah. I knew Marianne, all right.” Gavin went to the kitchen and opened the high cupboard above the sink. Pulling out a bottle of scotch, he poured himself a glass, then looked at her inquiringly.

She shook her head no.

He downed his drink in one swallow, then looked at her again. “Marianne is the mother of my twins.”

CHAPTER FIVE

“MAYBEI’LL HAVE that drink after all,” Allison said.

Gavin pulled down the bottle again. “Did I shock you?”

“Frankly, I’m a little surprised. Yes.”

“She didn’t tell you about us,” he guessed. “Or maybe you haven’t seen her in a while?”

“Right on both counts.”

“Ice?” When she nodded he tried to make it to the fridge, but tripped over a box. He swore, then moved around it. “Let’s go out to the deck,” he suggested. “It’s the only place that isn’t a complete shambles around here.”

Gingerly, she followed him to the patio doors. A couple of recliners and some deck chairs were arranged to take advantage of the view, though it was too dark to see much at the moment. She walked past these to the railing, where she leaned out to face the lake.

Moonlight gilded the rippled water and she could just make out the diving dock where she and Marianne had sunbathed and swam for hours on end. Those were some of the happiest times she had had with Marianne. She only wished there had been more of them.

For some reason, Marianne had seemed to get a kick out of winning things that Allison wanted. It didn’t matter if it was an art competition or a boyfriend.

“I can’t believe Marianne is a mother.”

“Why do you say that?” Gavin turned on an outdoor heater, then offered her a chair beside it. There was just enough light so that she could make out the line of his jaw, the solid breadth of his shoulders.

She turned away from the sight. Right now, she couldn’t handle being attracted to him. He and Marianne had had two children together. Gavin Gray and Marianne. It was a picture she didn’t want to contemplate.

“I’m just confused. I didn’t know Marianne was married.” She swirled the ice cubes in her glass, fighting a sudden impulse to down the drink in one long swallow.

He was quiet for a while, then said, “We were never married. We’d only been seeing each other a short time when she found out she was pregnant.”

Strangely, Allison felt relieved to hear they hadn’t been married. At the same time, she was still shocked about the pregnancy. She only heard from Marianne once or twice a year, but you’d think she might have mentioned that she was having twins.

“I can’t help feeling we’re talking about different women.”

“Could there be two Marianne McLaughlins in New England? Both from Squam Lake?”

Now Allison sighed. “I guess it’s the same woman. But if Marianne is Tory’s mom, then where is she? You said she left you years ago, but why?”

“She walked out when the twins were just one year old. And as for why she did it…” He shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

But mothers didn’t just leave their children for no reason. Marianne, for all her faults, wouldn’t have, either. Would she?

“Are you sure she didn’t give a reason?”

“Maybe there were signs I didn’t see. I don’t know. But when I say she walked out on us, that’s literally what happened. She said she was going away for a girls’ weekend. She never came back.”

“Did you question her friends?”

“That’s the funny part. She didn’t have any friends. At least none that I’d ever met or heard her mention. She never showed any interest in meeting the people I worked with, and she didn’t seem keen to get to know the neighbors, either. That’s why I was so glad when she said she wanted a weekend away. I thought finally she’d met some women she liked.”

The profile he presented fit Allison’s memories of Marianne perfectly. “She was the same at school. The guys all liked her, but she didn’t really have friends.”

“Except for you.”

“Except for me,” she agreed. For some reason Marianne had chosen Allison as the one person she could tolerate, starting in kindergarten when they’d both gravitated to the craft table. After that, they’d taken art classes together all the way through their senior year.

That common interest had come to haunt Allison, though. She wasn’t very old before she’d realized that although she was good with color and artful arrangements, Marianne was the one with the real talent. An original spirit was what their high school art teacher had called her.

How Marianne had lorded that one over Allison.

Many times Marianne’s friendship had been a burden that Allison gladly would have shed. Her spitefulness had caused all sorts of problems with the other kids in their class. But whenever Allison complained to her parents, her father would be quite stern. He’d point out that Marianne didn’t have a father to guide her, the way she did, and he’d urged her to be patient and understanding.

The fact that Marianne didn’t have a father hadn’t seemed like much of an excuse to Allison. There was another kid in their class who was missing one of his parents, and Scott wasn’t a jerk just because he didn’t have a mother.

But Allison liked pleasing her father, and so she’d stuck by Marianne over the years. Even when her other friends called her a fool.

“Well, whether Marianne had girlfriends or not,” Gavin continued, “she didn’t come home that night. Or any other night after that.”

“So you haven’t heard from her in all those years?”

“Not a word.”

She considered the various implications. “Do you think she knows about what happened to Samantha?”

“Not unless she was still in Hartford at the time and read about it in the local papers.”

“She wasn’t. She’s been living in the White Mountains for quite a while now.” Allison wondered if Gavin was disappointed to hear that. “Were you hoping to find her in Squam Lake?”

“Not at all.”

“It’s not why you moved here?”

“I wanted out of the rat race of the city.”

“There are lots of other small towns in New England.”

Finally, he conceded the point. “I suppose I chose this one because of the ties to Tory’s mother. I thought maybe I’d find someone who knew Marianne. Who could help me locate her.”

“In other words…someone like me.” She found herself resenting the hopeful look he gave her. She and Gavin had been working their way toward friendship, and now—suddenly—Marianne was part of the picture. And she didn’t want Marianne in the picture. Marianne had always changed everything.

“You had to know that moving here was a long shot,” she added. “Why not hire a private investigator to track her down?”

“I considered that, but my brothers talked me out of it.”

“You have more than one?”

He held up two fingers. “Matt’s a lawyer and Nick is a cop—they both live in Hartford. Neither one of them cared much for Marianne.”

Which showed that they had good taste. Allison wrinkled her nose, aware that her thoughts were bitter. Marianne had always been able to bring out her dark side.

“So you let it drop.”

“It wasn’t until Samantha died that finding Marianne seemed imperative. Then, as luck would have it, I stumbled across an old box of her belongings in the attic. Inside were some school papers, including her high school diploma. That’s how I found out she’d grown up in Squam Lake.”

“And you decided to move here.”

“I needed to do something. Tory was depressed. We both were. Too many memories in that house. In Hartford, for that matter.”

“I can imagine.” He had her sympathy now. Losing Marianne was one thing, but losing a young daughter was something else entirely.

“I’d already been thinking about moving. I wanted a small town. Something not too far from my family. Squam Lake seemed like the right answer on several levels.”

What he said seemed sort of reasonable. Except…“You went so far as to buy Marianne’s old house.” That was just a little too creepy for Allison. It was one thing to want to find your daughter’s mother, but it was another to be obsessed by the idea.

“That part was coincidence. I couldn’t believe it when our real-estate agent said the house used to belong to the McLaughlin family. I figured it was a sign.”

And maybe it was, Allison thought. For Gavin, it was a sign that he was getting closer to the mother of his babies. For her, it was a sign that she’d better not get too close to a man obsessed with another woman.

GAVIN COULDN’T BELIEVE that he’d finally found a link to Marianne. Though Allison didn’t seem to have liked her that much, she’d actually been Marianne’s friend. There was something ironic about that, but at the moment he needed to focus on other things.

“Allison?”

“Yes?”

He’d given her an opportunity to ask her questions. Now it was his turn. “Have you heard from Marianne lately?”

“The last time was about a year ago.”

He waited, but she didn’t offer him any more than that. He could tell she didn’t want to talk about Marianne any longer, but he couldn’t let this drop. “Do you have a phone number or an e-mail address?” he pressed.

“When she gets in touch, it’s usually by e-mail. I can give you the last address she used, but it probably won’t help. She lives in a trailer with no Internet access and doesn’t get to town often.”

In the dim light of the moon, Gavin tried to read Allison’s expression. Was Marianne really that reclusive? “I can’t imagine Marianne in a trailer.”

“How well did you know her?”

It was a valid question. “I’m beginning to realize, not that well.”

There was a long silence. Then, almost reluctantly, Allison asked, “How did you two meet?”

He hadn’t thought about that night in years. “It was at an evening reception at an art gallery in Hartford. I can’t remember the name of the artist. The paintings were different. Not my taste at all.”

But though he’d gone to the show hoping to find a gift for his mother’s new condominium and had been disappointed in that respect, the evening hadn’t been a total waste. He’d been about to leave when a beautiful woman had offered him a glass of wine and then introduced herself as Marianne McLaughlin.

Within half an hour he was totally bewitched.

They had an intense four-week affair. And by the beginning of the fifth week, while he was haunting jewelry stores looking for the perfect ring to tempt her, she was already drifting away.

He’d tried to deny what was happening. Found excuses to explain why she was slow returning his calls. Why suddenly she could only find time for him once or twice a week, rather than every night like before.

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