The doorbell rang. Yanking open the door, Laura was surprised to see Paul. She searched her mind for why he would show up on a Saturday morning. “Hi,” she said.

“Morning.” He extended a basket of muffins. “Fresh from the bakery.”

Muffins? From Paul Russell, who’d barely acknowledged her presence in his office for the past week? “Oh… How nice,” she said. “Well, then, come in.”

He entered, his steps tentative.

“I’ll get some coffee.” She led him to the kitchen, then prepared the coffee and put the muffins on a plate. “You’re out and about early,” she said. It was the closest her manners would allow her to come to asking why he was here.

“I realized I hadn’t properly welcomed you and the kids,” he said.

That was one way to put it, she thought. He had all but put the brakes on the welcoming committee and steered it out of town. But now, it seemed, Paul Russell might be changing his tune.

BONNIE K. WINN

is a hopeless romantic who’s written incessantly since the third grade. So it seemed only natural that she turned to romance writing. A seasoned author of historical and contemporary romance, Bonnie has won numerous awards for her bestselling books. Affaire de Coeur chose her as one of the Top Ten Romance Writers in America.

Bonnie loves writing contemporary romance because she can set her stories in the modern cities close to her heart and explore the endlessly fascinating strengths of today’s woman.

Living in the foothills of the Rockies gives her plenty of inspiration and a touch of whimsy, as well. She shares her life with her husband, son and a spunky Westie terrier who lends his characteristics to many pets in her stories. Bonnie’s keeping mum about anyone else’s characteristics she may have borrowed.

To Love Again
Bonnie K. Winn

And Ruth said, Entreat me not to leave thee,

or to return from following after thee:

for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou

lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be

my people, and thy God my God.

—Ruth 1:16

To Karen Elizabeth Rigley, sister and friend.

For all you do. For all you are.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Questions for Discussion

Prologue

Houston, Texas

Laura Manning dreaded what was coming. The reading of her husband’s will. But, as she’d been doing for the past fourteen years, she carried out her prescribed role. She greeted Jerry’s family as they arrived, settling them into the leather chairs and couch in her late husband’s study, making certain they were at ease, refilling coffee cups. Jerry only had a few cousins, and his grandparents had long since passed away. He hadn’t been close to any of his relatives, but his cousins had been named in his will.

Hushed voices from the hall signaled more arrivals.

“Hello, Edward, Meredith.” Laura hugged her father-in-law, and accepted the brush of her mother-in-law’s cheek that passed as a lukewarm greeting.

“Sorry we’re late,” Edward began.

“We can’t be expected to run on a timetable.” Meredith gripped a lace handkerchief, already crumpled. “I’ve just lost my only child!”

Edward’s eyes met Laura’s, then he glanced away.

Meredith looked around the spacious, circular entry. “Where are the children?”

“At the neighbor’s.” Laura straightened a calla lilly on the round table that anchored the room. “They’re not old enough for this.”

“Kirsten’s thirteen,” Meredith objected.

Laura winced. She really didn’t want to further upset her mother-in-law. “I don’t think that’s old enough. Everyone else is in the study if you want to join them.”

Meredith dabbed at her eyes. “They can hardly begin without us.” She tottered in as though about to collapse, taking the chair closest to the desk while Edward sat in one of the two seats together Laura had reserved for them.

She poured coffee for them both.

Her friend, Donna, offered her a steadying arm when she stumbled and it looked as if she might spill the pot. Grateful for her presence, her only ally in the room, Laura squeezed her hand.

The doorbell rang. She was only expecting one other person, Jerry’s business partner, Paul Russell. Although she didn’t know him well, she hoped he’d be another friendly face in the room.

Opening the door, she was struck again by the tall, engaging man’s appearance. Thick dark hair, on the long side. Equally dark eyes and a strong jaw.

“It’s good to see you,” she greeted him.

Something she couldn’t decipher flickered in his somber expression, then disappeared. “You, too.”

Because of the occasion, she wasn’t put off by his reticence. “Come in to Jerry’s study—everyone’s gathered there. Can I get you some coffee?”

He followed, his footfalls crisp against the marble floor. “No, thank you.”

Jerry’s lawyer, Daryl McGrath, a man Laura had met only once before, sat at her late husband’s desk. A stream of sunshine lit the room, edging past the heavy linen drapes she had pushed open that morning.

After she and Paul took the last chairs, McGrath began to read aloud from the long, ponderous document. Jerry couldn’t have made his will short and simple. He had to have his final moment. It wasn’t a kind thought. But Jerry had stolen most of her kind thoughts over the years. It was hard to believe she had once loved him more than life. Handsome, charming, he had overwhelmed her with attention and affection. And she had been so desperate to be loved, to escape her scarred home life. But she hadn’t really known him. And the abuse he had dished out later, once they were married, had all but killed her.

Fingering the very proper pearls at her neck, Laura wanted to shrink into the straight-backed chair, out of sight of Jerry’s family. Instead, she crossed her legs, straightening her slim-skirted black dress over her sheer, dark hose. She hoped that her clothes, along with her dark hair, might help her blend into the dark wood.

She listened to the small bequests to Jerry’s favorite male cousins, a gold watch, an expensive money clip. When McGrath read the next bequest, Laura frowned. Jerry had given several pieces of furniture, including the baby grand piano, to his parents.

If it hadn’t been for the children’s piano lessons, she wouldn’t have cared. Material things had never been high on her list of priorities. She would have been happy in a tiny house with the barest necessities if Jerry had been the kind, considerate man she had once believed him to be.

Holding her hands in her lap, Laura fingered her wedding band.

“Now we come to the major bequests,” McGrath announced. “The primary residence, business interests, the cash and insurance.” He rustled several papers. “Jerry thought out his final wishes very carefully. He wanted to provide for his family in all aspects.”

Premonition washed over her, and Laura straightened in her chair.

“To that end,” McGrath continued, “he appointed Paul Russell as his executor and trustee.”

Sitting perfectly still, she could barely breathe.

“Jerry left his entire estate, in trust, to be divided equally, between his children, Kirsten Elaine Manning and Gregory Gerard Manning…. I’m afraid there’s no provision for you, Mrs. Manning.”

No provision. Despite her shock, Laura knew what that meant. It was fancy legal talk for what her shaking insides were trying to absorb. Jerry still had a choke hold on her and he wasn’t going to let go.

Chapter One

“I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Manning, but I’m afraid there’s little you can do, other than bring an action against the trust.” Tom Baldwin, the lawyer Laura had contacted, looked at her kindly, his sympathetic tone releasing the tears that lurked close to the surface.

“Sue my own children?” Laura reached for a tissue. “That’s not an option.”

“Perhaps the executor will be open to your plans.”

Laura grasped her purse, needing to cling to something, anything. The world had turned on end since the reading of the will and she wasn’t sure what was real anymore. Most of their acquaintances assumed Jerry’s death would have affected her this way. But they didn’t know him like she did. To them he was the engaging charmer, the great, outgoing guy who’d been a football star in high school and college. And she’d been the shy loner he’d chosen to marry. Few had understood the match, but plenty of girls had envied her. Because Jerry was “the man.”

Jerry’s only stroke of bad luck was colon cancer, undetected until it was too late. But he had enough time to dictate the terms of his will. Six weeks from diagnosis to death.

She had wondered if the diagnosis would change him, but not even a death sentence could reverse whatever propelled his meanness. For her, his death couldn’t negate fourteen years of emotional abuse, of being worn down, of always being afraid that his temper would blow. And he’d seen to it that she had to ask Paul, a virtual stranger, permission for nearly everything.

“Mrs. Manning?” Baldwin’s quiet voice prodded her.

“I’m sorry.” She wiped her eyes. “I have no idea how the executor will feel.”

Baldwin frowned. “Really? Wasn’t he your husband’s partner?”

“Yes. But I only met him a few times.”

“How extraordinary.”

“Not if you had known Jerry. He didn’t include me in anything related to the business. All I really know about Paul is that he was Jerry’s college friend and that he lives in a small town in the hill country.”

And two days earlier, as soon as the will had been read, Paul had left, telling her to talk to Jerry’s lawyer about her concerns. He’d mentioned something about a sick sister and apologized to the Mannings for his abrupt departure.

“You and Jerry didn’t go to college together?”

“No, I’m four years younger. I met him when I was a high school senior.” She’d been too young and gullible, anxious to get away from her equally abusive parents. Trapped in the cycle of demoralizing emotional abuse. Why her? “Anyway, Jerry and Paul go way back.”

“But you had no idea that Jerry had given him such extensive control?”

“No.” She stared at the framed law degrees on the wall, not reading them. “He told me he’d had a new will drawn up because of the complexities of the business.”

Baldwin peered at the thick sheaf of papers. “He’s left Russell in charge of everything from determining the amount of your allowance to where your children can attend school.”

She leaned forward, her knees pressing the desk. “Can I fight that?”

“Yes. But I warn you, it will be expensive.”

And where would she get the money?

“Surely half the house is mine because of community property?”

Baldwin nodded. “Yes. But unless you can buy out your children’s half, you can’t sell it. Any of the assets you wish to claim, remember, will necessitate litigation. And again, that will be expensive.”

Her throat closed. For fourteen years Jerry had bullied her, had killed almost everything that she was. And he was still doing it from the grave.

Tom Baldwin wasn’t an unfeeling man. “Talk to Paul Russell,” he urged. “Surely he’ll see that this document was drawn up in haste, by a man who wasn’t seeing clearly. Death makes people do crazy things.”

Not in this case. This move was one hundred percent pure Jerry.

Rosewood, Texas

Paul jogged the remaining three blocks of his run, slowing as he came to Main Street. He turned at Borbey House, inhaling the smell of pies baking in Annie Warren’s kitchen. He groaned. The Sorenson bakery was in the next block. They were probably baking cinnamon buns. It was what he deserved for putting his office right smack in the middle of them both.

His cell phone rang. Since it was still early, he considered ignoring it as he decided between pie and pastry, but by habit he flipped open the phone, slowing to a walk.

“Russell.”

It took him a few moments to realize who was calling and why. As he did, his mood soured. “Laura, slow down. It’s clear to me from Jerry’s will that he didn’t act in haste, that he knew exactly what he wanted.”

Her voice was plaintive. “What about what I want for my children?”

“I don’t mean any disrespect, but my friend chose me to be his executor and I have to act on his behalf.” My friend who’s now gone. Leaving a gaping hole in both the business and what had been an eighteen-year friendship. Jerry had been like an older brother, first taking him under his wing at the University of Texas.

Jerry hadn’t treated him like the small town hick some others had, instead drawing him into his group of friends. Grateful, Paul had been eager to go into partnership with him after graduation. It seemed hard to believe he had been such a vital, strong man only a short time ago.

“What about the company?” she was asking.

He stopped walking, bending at the waist to stretch. “What about it?”

“Jerry was your partner. I’m prepared to take his place.”

“Excuse me?” Paul was glad she couldn’t see his face.

“I said I’m prepared to take his place.”

“You want to work in the firm?” He wiped the sweat from his neck.

“Yes.”

Paul stretched his right leg. “I don’t remember Jerry ever talking about you helping with the deals.”

“Well…I didn’t exactly. That doesn’t mean I can’t learn.”

“And who’s supposed to teach you?”

“You. I know I don’t have my agent’s license yet, but I can take classes toward that. It’s the investment part of the business I need to learn and there’s not a school for that.”

“You want me to teach you?” He switched legs, stretching the left. “That’s not a good idea.”

“But—”

“I’m sure you mean well, but it would be more helpful to all concerned if you concentrate on raising your kids.” He started walking, anxious to end the call. Jerry hadn’t said anything, but Paul suspected his friend must have had reason to worry about Laura to have left him as executor instead of his wife. He had promised Jerry he would watch out for the children. Jerry hadn’t asked the same for Laura.

“That’s not what I want.”

“And Jerry didn’t want to die young, but we don’t all get what we want.” He exhaled, trying not to be harsh with her. “Sorry to rush, but I’m on my way to the office. Bye.” Not waiting for a reply, he clicked off. His appetite ruined, he jogged the rest of the way to his office, waving to Ethan Warren who was climbing into his car, no doubt on his way to the school.

The phone was ringing as Paul entered. Turning on the lights, he crossed to the desk that faced the entrance. Breathless, he grabbed the phone. “Distinctive Properties.”

“I wasn’t finished.”

It was her.

“Paul, like it or not, we’re stuck with each other because of Jerry’s will. I want to work in the company. It was half Jerry’s, so why shouldn’t I?”

Paul glanced around his small office, imagining sharing any part of it. Since he contracted out the majority of his work, he’d never needed a large space for employees. And he’d always been partial to the Victorian building. He kept the furnishings spare—one extra desk, two chairs, a few lamps. He considered it more important for the office to fit his work instead of making it a showplace. “Your allowance is reasonable. You don’t need to work. A lot of women would be happy not to leave their kids to go to a job.”

“I want…I…” Her voice trailed off.

Listening, he heard muffled sounds. “Mrs. Manning? Laura? Are you there?”

It took a moment. “Yes.”

“You don’t even know what you’re asking to get into. This is a tough industry. Flipping property is even worse than selling homes—you know, traditional real estate. Buying investment houses, then renovating on a tight schedule and reselling them to make a quick profit is like chasing sharks. It only sounds like fun.” She didn’t laugh. That didn’t surprise him. He had never heard her laugh, she had looked unhappy every time he’d ever seen her. “It’s stressful and risky, you have to know what you’re doing all the time. If you mess up, you not only lose your own shirt, but your investors’, as well. It’s not the place for the weakhearted. I know you’ve had a lot to take in lately.” He eased into his well-used wooden chair and put his feet up on the scarred desk. “Maybe I was too abrupt with you earlier. But, this isn’t something you want to do. Trust me. You’re going to have your hands full with the kids, keeping up with your house.”

“You don’t understand—”

“What’s to understand? Jerry just died. You’re confused.”

“I’m not confused.”

Paul rubbed his eyes. “Laura, maybe you can talk to a therapist or—”

“I don’t need a therapist.”

His other line rang. “I’m sorry but I have to take another call.”

He had always understood the initial attraction Jerry must have felt for her. Tall, slim, glossy dark hair, haunting green eyes. But she always acted downtrodden. He likened her to a whipped dog. And he never could figure out why. Jerry was a great guy and treated her like a queen. But then some women, like his ex-fiancée, only thought about money. Maybe Jerry’s beautiful home wasn’t as big as she wanted. Maybe she wanted one in the exclusive River Oaks area of town where the millionaires lived.

And personality wasn’t the only thing she lacked. Her husband had just died and she hadn’t expressed a shred of grief.

Laura stumbled outside, needing the open air. Even the muggy air the recent rain had rendered. When Paul Russell had pushed, she hadn’t been able to summon the courage to push back, to find the words to explain how much she needed her freedom. She couldn’t bear to be under Jerry’s thumb another moment.

How was she going to convince him to let her learn the trade? Clearly not over the phone. She would have to talk to him in person, argue her case.

“Mom?” Kirsten sounded annoyed as she came outside to join her on the deck.

“I’m here.”

“It’s like a zillion degrees out here and the humidity’s killing my hair,” Kirsten complained.

“Did you need something?”

Kirsten frowned. “I’m going to stay at Nana’s for the weekend.”

No asking permission, not even the consideration that she might need to. This had to stop. Laura had tried so hard to keep Jerry’s abuse hidden from the children that she had become a doormat in her daughter’s eyes. And it was becoming more blatant since Jerry’s death.

“I don’t think so, Kirsten.”

Her daughter stomped her foot and Laura noticed she was wearing a new pair of shoes, another present from her grandmother. “But Nana said we were going shopping!”

“You didn’t ask me for permission.”

Kirsten scowled, her pert features so much like her father’s. “What’s the big deal?”

Maybe it had been a mistake to try to keep Jerry’s image untarnished, to keep their arguing secret. “I’m your mother, Kirsten. Without my permission, you don’t go anywhere. And that includes your grandparents’.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Those are the rules. You wouldn’t have thought you could go without permission when your father was alive.”

Kirsten was definitely her daddy’s girl. She shook the blond hair—exactly like his—blue duplicates of her father’s eyes now furious. “Daddy would have said yes!”

“Maybe. And maybe you’ll think twice next time about announcing you’ve got plans, instead of asking for permission.”

“Nana’s right. We should come live with her.”

Laura stared at her. “What?”

“Nana says you won’t be able to manage and we should come live with her. I think she’s right. And Gregg will think she’s right, too, when I tell him.”

Fear unsettled her. Up until now, Gregg hadn’t acted like his older sister. But if Kirsten tried to influence him… And Meredith…if she was campaigning to take the children away…

Laura had to do something. Living only two blocks away from her in-laws, it would be easy for Kirsten to visit them as often as she wished. Yet moving was nearly impossible. She couldn’t sell the house. And if she leased it out…she didn’t want to move her children into an area that wasn’t safe just to find lower rent. And that was the only way she could imagine finding the funds to go back to school herself. Unless…

Unless she learned the basics of flipping houses from Paul Russell. She hadn’t been able to find her courage in years, but now…now she had to.

Laura fretted and agonized for days. If she stayed in Houston, her life would be out of her control as it had been during her marriage. But, if she could convince Paul Russell…She knew she didn’t have any practical experience to bring to the table, but…She moved away from the window, her steps hesitant, and reached for the phone.

She dialed Donna’s number. They’d been friends since the third grade, and Donna was the only person she had confided in throughout her marriage. Donna answered on the third ring.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

“I was checking out what’s left in my fridge. Pretty pathetic.”

Laura frowned. Donna was a software engineer and she worked out of her home office. “You must be busy.”

“Just finished a deadline.”

“Oh.” Laura hesitated. Donna was always rushed after a deadline, playing catch up.

“What’s going on?”

Laura explained.

“I can take the kids to school, pick them up,” Donna offered. “And I’ll stay until you get home.”

“Are you sure it’s not an inconvenience?”

“I’ll bring my laptop, start on my new project. Besides, you probably have food in your fridge.”

Laura let out a breath. “What would I do without you?”

Donna laughed. “Let’s not find out. And stop worrying. Things will work out.”

Early the following morning, before traffic could clog the roads, Laura set out for Rosewood. Although both freeways heading west out of the city were always packed, Laura’s predawn head start helped.

It was nearly ten o’clock when she arrived. She hadn’t known what to expect, but the charm of the perfectly kept Victorian buildings surprised her. Equally old elm trees shaded the wide sidewalks. No boarded-up buildings on Main Street. Looked like the town was alive and kicking. She spotted an old-fashioned drugstore that made her think of the one her grandmother used to take her to for ice-cream sodas when she was a little girl. It was one of the few positive memories from her childhood.

Intrigued, Laura slowed down, savoring a place that hadn’t been edged out by a superstore or run down by neglect. She spotted cheery gingham curtains in the café windows and smiled. She needed cheer more than breakfast, which she had skipped in her hurry to get an early start, but she didn’t want to stop. She wanted to catch Paul early.

She found his office easily enough. The simple brass plaque above the wide black awning announced Distinctive Properties, Ltd.

Grasping the brass door handle, she tried to take hold of her courage as easily. She stepped inside. Paul sat at an old mahogany desk facing the entrance. A second, similar desk was angled next to his, but it was empty. The office was small, with some leather chairs, filing cabinets, coffeemaker and not much else. There was another door at the rear.

Looking back at Paul, she remembered to smile. But her courage failed her when he scowled.

Then she realized he was on the phone. Two actually. At least he was holding two. One was a cell. It rang as she watched.

Deftly he put the first call on hold, answered the second, then switched back to the first. A moment later he finally noticed her.

Her first impression hadn’t been that far off. He looked annoyed as he ended both calls.

“Good morning.” She tried to sound confident, but her voice came out sounding more like a frightened bird.

“Hello,” he said cautiously. “This is a surprise.”

“I suppose it is.” Courage. Keep your courage. “I came to talk to you about the company.”

“We already talked about it.”

“No.” She bit her lip. “You brushed me off.”

His phone rang. “You want to talk now?”

“Yes, please.”

“You couldn’t have picked a worse time. I’m speaking to investors.”

Her anxiety heightened. “In an hour then?”

“It’s Monday morning. I’m calling my most important contacts.” He scrunched his mouth in contemplation. “I could hook up with you, say, late this afternoon.”

“This afternoon?”

He reached for the phone. “If you really want to talk. If not—”

“No! I mean yes. I want to talk.” She calculated quickly. Donna said she would stay as long as necessary. “So, this afternoon?”

“Okay.”

Laura picked up a card from his desk and scribbled her cell phone number on it. “Call me when you’re free?”

“Fine.” His phone rang again.

Awkwardly, she stepped back. “I’ll see myself out then.”

He was already absorbed in the phone conversation.

Out on the sidewalk, she breathed in the clean spring air, the smell of baking bread laced with blooming hyacinths. Unexpectedly, her stomach rumbled. In spite of nerves.

She glanced down the street. A sign in the next block caught her eye. Borbey House Bed and Breakfast. She didn’t know just how long Paul Russell planned to put her off, but she intended to stick around until he spoke to her, even if that meant staying until the following day. It might be smart to book a room, just in case. Besides, she was tired. It had taken everything she had to screw up her courage for this visit. She hated this weakness in herself. Before she had married, she wouldn’t have been so intimidated, so frightened. This was just a negotiation. With Jerry’s best friend. Why couldn’t Jerry have let her go? She hadn’t wanted him to get sick, to die…. But she had thought at last she would be out from under his control.

She pulled out her cell phone.

Donna answered on the second ring, and Laura explained the situation.

“Stay as long as you need. My work’s coming along fine. You know I love borrowing other people’s children.”

Laura hesitated, unaccustomed to asking favors. “It could be longer than just overnight.”

“Stay as long as you need.”

Laura clutched the phone. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

“Hey, what are friends for?”

Laura felt a little better as she walked the short distance to Borbey House. A bell tinkled when she pushed open the door to the bed-and-breakfast and stepped into an immaculate front room, furnished with inviting antique couches.

“Be right there,” a woman called.

Laura waited by an ancient breakfront that looked like the sign-in desk. Within moments, a perky, attractive woman who looked to be about her age, scooted into the room. “Hi!” She wiped her hands on her apron. “Just finishing up in the kitchen. How can I help you?”

“I’m hoping you have a room for tonight. Well, maybe longer. I’m not sure exactly how long I’ll be here.” The way she felt right now she could climb into bed and pull the covers over her head.

“I have one that fronts on Main Street if you like the view or one that looks out on the back garden if you’d prefer complete quiet. You can see both, if you’d like, and then choose.” Dark eyes twinkled as the woman pushed her brown hair behind her ear.

“That’s a tough call, but I think I’ll take the quiet.” She needed it to recoup.

“Fine. If you change your mind, just let me know. It’s no trouble switching you around.” Laura signed the guest book, a simple register, her writing shaky. “I’m Annie Warren and this is my place, mine and my husband’s.”

“Glad to meet you.” She reached for her purse, fumbling with her wallet. “You’ll need my credit card.”

Annie waved her hands. “Not necessary. We can do that when you check out.”

Laura stared, amazed.

Annie laughed. “I doubt you want to get up at four in the morning to skip out. Besides, a little trust goes a long way.”

“That’s a kind, if somewhat precarious, way to live in this world.”

“It works for me.”

Laura’s anxiety eased somewhat.

“Have you had your breakfast?” Annie put her hands on her narrow hips.

“Actually no. But if it’s too late—”

“Nope. I was just getting around to mine. Would you like to join me?”

Laura was touched by the offer. “I’d love to.”

“The dining room’s still set for breakfast. I haven’t cleared the buffet. The warmers are on under the bacon and sausage, the eggs, too. The griddle’s hot and I was about to make pancakes. Or whatever you like.”

“I adore pancakes. I didn’t expect such bounty.” Laura wandered over to the antique buffet. Jams—she’d guess homemade—in crystal dishes begged to be spread on the plump rolls. And there was a basket of sticky buns as well. She felt as though she’d stepped back into another time when people lingered over breakfast.

“I just made some fresh coffee.” Annie indicated from the stove. “And there’s orange juice on the buffet.”

“Let me,” Laura offered. “What do you take in your coffee?”

“Thanks.” Annie pointed. “Just a little cream.”

Laura poured them each a coffee. Retrieving the pitcher of orange juice, she carried it to the only table with place settings.

Annie followed shortly with a platter of fluffy pancakes. “This time of year we get a lot of tourists because of the wildflowers, but it’s still mostly weekends right now.”

“I’m not here for flowers.” She stopped. She didn’t intend to tell this stranger anything about why she was here. Annie just smiled.

“Rosewood’s a good place to be.”

“Oh?”

“People are welcoming here.”

Laura reached for the syrup. “I’m just here for a visit.”

“It’s a fine place to visit, too.”

“Is the real estate market doing well here?”

Annie poured some cream into her mug. “I don’t really know. But you could check with Paul Russell down the street.”

Laura choked on her bite of pancake.

As she coughed, Annie patted her on the back and handed her a glass of water. “Sip slowly. The maple syrup is strong. I should have warned you.”

Once she caught her breath, Laura said. “No, it’s lovely, really.” She sipped more water, took some time wiping her mouth with the cotton napkin. “Is he a friend of yours?”

“Paul? Yes. He’s a member of my church.”

“Church?” Laura didn’t mean to spit the word, but Jerry hadn’t included church in their plans. He’d been too busy with barbecues, boating and golf. And between the disillusion with her marriage and the control Jerry held over her, she had drifted far from the days when her grandmother had taken her to church.

Annie must have sensed her discomfort. “How about some orange juice?”

“Thank you.”

Annie poured her a glass. “So, are you here to check out the real estate market?”

“In a way,” Laura hedged. She had been hiding the truth about her abusive marriage for so long it was second nature to keep everything quiet.

“I have a friend, Emma McAllister, whose husband is a contractor. He’s working on a house not far from here. He just built a new home for the owner.” She put the pitcher down. “And they don’t want to sell this one because they want to keep it in the family. Seth’s fixing it up to rent it. If you want to look inside, he’s probably around.”

“Oh, I don’t know….”

“I hope I’m not being pushy. It’s become a habit since I started running the bed-and-breakfast. That, and because I was single so long and rattled around the house alone I tend to treat my guests as friends.” Annie grinned. “Sorry, there I go. But the house really is great—if you want to get an idea of the market here.”

“I could take down the directions, I suppose.” She did have hours to kill and maybe she would show Paul she had initiative and could learn quickly.

“If Seth’s not there, check the back door. It might be unlocked,” Annie said, getting up to find a pen and paper.

“Really? The house is left open?”

“This is Rosewood. We don’t have any crime to speak of.”

But leave an empty house unlocked? Laura couldn’t imagine such a thing. She had lived in the city so long, in the right area, the one Jerry had chosen. Still, security systems were a fact of life.

Intrigued, after breakfast Laura followed the directions Annie had given her. She found the address easily. And sighed as she stared at the two-story folk Victorian, falling immediately in love with the front gable and side wings, corbels, the gothic details, the welcoming porch. The rosebushes that appeared to be as old as the house itself.

A man was sweeping up on the driveway.

“Hi. Are you Seth?”

“No. The boss isn’t here.”

“Oh. I heard I might be able to take a quick look inside.”

He paused, holding the broom still. “Sure. The owners are planning to put it up for rent. I imagine they want people to look at it. The front door’s unlocked.”

“Thanks.” She entered the foyer, then stepped into a large living room with high ceilings and a beautiful fireplace with an intricately carved mantel. Plaster walls, original woodwork, tall arched windows that allowed the light to stream in. It was amazing. The rest of the rooms were just as great. She wasn’t in real estate yet, but this place would have to rent for a small fortune. Well, some lucky family would be happy here.

She checked her watch. Even dawdling, she still had way too much time to kill. She thought about going back to the bed-and-breakfast for a nap, but she didn’t want to wake up disoriented for the meeting. So she decided to check out the town.

The entire place was a step back in time. She wandered around Whitaker Woods, a store full of handmade furniture, each piece a one-of-a-kind design. She peeked into the windows of the costume shop, Try It On, intrigued by the unique designs she hadn’t expected to find in such a small town.

Her phone rang. “Hello.”

“Laura? Paul Russell. I can’t squeeze in a meeting after all.” He sounded tense.

“Oh.” She looked down the street at Distinctive Properties. It was within walking distance.

Before she lost her courage, she headed for his office. “I only need a minute.”

“Another time.”

Paul was still on the phone when she pushed open the door. She took the chair angled in front of his desk.

“I told you I didn’t have time to meet,” he said after he hung up.

“That’s why I came to you.” She gripped her purse.

He frowned. “You just show up here, after I told you I’m too busy?”

Every nerve she possessed crowded into her throat. “We need to talk.”

“I told you. Flipping property isn’t easy. You have to be able to hold steady when you’ve bought a property, poured a ton of renovation money into it. Navigating between investors and sellers…It takes commitment, guts.” He held up his hands as though to say he knew she didn’t have either.

“I have both,” she lied. If she’d had any real courage, she would have left Jerry years ago. But she couldn’t tell Paul that.

“And it takes expertise.”

Laura leaned forward. “Which you can teach me.”

“I’ve already told you—”

“Please don’t reject this out of hand.” Laura bit her lip, wondering how much of the truth she should tell him, guessing he wouldn’t believe much. “I know you think you owe it to Jerry to run the firm as you see fit, but don’t you owe it to him to listen to me, as well? To consider what I can offer? Half the profits will benefit his children.”

She wasn’t convincing him. She could see that.

“You’re forgetting a pretty important technicality.”

She blinked in confusion.

“Even if I agreed to teach you, you live in Houston.”

“But you and Jerry made that work.”

“Because Jerry knew what he was doing. He acquired properties in the Houston area, supervised those renovations. I locate the investors, make sure the money’s in place. And I buy homes in this area for flipping, as well. I can’t teach you how to find and then buy the right properties, not from here.”

She opened her mouth, but no sound emerged. Her grip on the purse tightened. Not from here. Unless she did something more drastic than she had planned. Fortunately, she’d had an idea.

Chapter Two

Two days later Laura arrived back in Houston, flushed with anticipation and fear. She had rented the incredible house on Elm Street in Rosewood. To her amazement, it had been surprisingly affordable, far below what she would have had to pay in Houston for something a fraction as nice. Now she had to lease out her own home and tell the children…and her in-laws. At the thought, she nearly turned the car around in the opposite direction. But it had to be done.

“Okay, guys, we need to talk,” she said to the kids as soon as she let herself in. “No, stay—please,” she added to Donna. “I need your support.”

Donna settled back down on the sofa, turning off the TV. Laura had already phoned her on the return trip, cluing her in on her unexpected plans.

Kirsten sighed as she collapsed into the cavernous chair that had been her father’s favorite. Again it struck Laura how much her daughter resembled him.

Gregg snuggled next to Laura, still young enough to be excited by his mother’s return. She smoothed the dark hair on his forehead. He had always taken after her in more than just appearance. They shared the same temperament.

“Since your father died, a lot of things have changed. And we have to make a new life for ourselves. For that to happen, I need to learn about your dad’s work. And the only way I can learn is for us to move to where his partner lives.”

“Move?” Kirsten jumped up, all her casual disdain gone. “We can’t move. All my friends are here.”

“You’ll make new friends—”

“I don’t want new friends.” Kirsten’s voice was shrill. “Nana and Grandpa won’t let you do this.”

Laura knew her declaration of independence wouldn’t be met with enthusiasm. She also knew that she would have to stick firm, not show her fear. “It’s not their decision. You’ll be able to visit them, but we have to stick together as a family, make this work for all of us.”

“Moving to some hick town won’t work!” Tears streamed down Kirsten’s face.

Laura got up to comfort her daughter, but Kirsten backed away. “You can’t make me go!” She galloped up the stairs, slamming her door behind her. The sound echoed through the quiet house.

Donna’s expression was sympathetic, but Laura’s heart sank. She looked down at her son. “What about you, pal?”

Gregg hunched his skinny shoulders. “S’okay, I guess. Do I still get to play peewee ball?”

She hugged him. Hard. “I’m sure you will. Rosewood has the very best stuff for kids. It’s one of the things that decided me. It’s really safe—kids ride their bikes to school and their moms don’t worry. And they have all kinds of great things for you to do.”

He screwed his face into lines of thought. “Where are we going to live?”

Laura described the house, the nearby park. “And your room has a killer view of the whole street.”

“Cool.”

She hugged him again, wishing the transition could be as easy for her daughter. But Kirsten would have to adjust. They all would.

Gregg wriggled free. “I’m gonna go start packing.”

“Okay, sweetie. We’ll get some boxes later today. Maybe just go through your toys for a start. See if there are some you’d like to put in the donation box.”

After he had trooped upstairs, Donna whistled. “This is fast, Laura.”

“I know. And I didn’t plan on it. To be honest, when the idea hit me, I was scared to death. Then I found out that I could afford this great house—oh, Donna, you’ll love it. And the town is safe, the kind of place you want to raise kids in. And I liked the people, well, Annie and Ethan Warren, the ones who run the bed-and-breakfast. He’s a schoolteacher, and she runs the inn.” Laura paused for breath. “You know how bad it’s been—how terrible things were with Jerry. Now I’ve got another chance…” She stood, pacing toward the large window that looked out on the fashionable street. “Does that sound as awful out loud as when I think it?”

“Not for anyone who really knew Jerry. I don’t know how you stuck it out this long with him. If he hadn’t gotten sick…Well, I know you wouldn’t have wished that for him, but I don’t think you’d have escaped any other way.” Donna hesitated. “I’m guessing Kirsten’s reaction will seem mild compared to her grandparents’.”

Laura sat down, then glanced toward the staircase. “I imagine she’s already on the phone, telling her grandmother.” She leaned her head back on the top of the sofa, picturing how furious they would be. Hit hard by the loss of their son, they drifted between grief and anger.

“They can’t keep you here,” Donna said wistfully.

“I’m going to miss you. But it’s not that far. You can visit—bring your laptop. You’ll like Rosewood, I know it. And the house has an extra bedroom with your name on it.”

“I am mobile,” Donna admitted.

Laura smiled. “I don’t know what I would have done without you all these years. With Jerry…”

“You don’t have to say it. I know. Maybe you’re right. Rosewood’s atmosphere might be great for my work.”

“Not to mention there could be new single men for you to meet.”

Donna laughed. “If I can’t find the right one in a city of more than four million, what chance do I have in a teeny town?”

“Different priorities?”

“Does that mean you’ve spotted someone there?” Donna looked intrigued. “Paul Russell?”

Laura shook her head. “Hardly. Not only am I a brand-new widow…but Paul? He can barely stand to speak to me. I’m not sure why, either. He seemed to have made his mind up about me before he ever met me.”

“Something Jerry said?”

Laura thought of Paul’s disapproving expression. “Maybe. But I don’t think Jerry would have said anything negative. You know how he was about appearances.”

“Maybe Paul’s just an odd duck, then.”

“Maybe.” But Laura hadn’t thought so. Well, until he had been so set against her joining the firm. “Donna, will you stay for dinner? My in-laws will probably make an appearance and I need the moral support.”

“Sure. I’m a glutton for punishment.” Donna rose, picking up glasses as she walked toward the kitchen.

“Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I put some chicken out to thaw. How ’bout if I work on dinner while you take a few minutes for yourself—maybe grab a shower.”

“You sure you don’t mind?”

“It’s fun for me to cook for more than one.”

Grateful, Laura hugged her friend. “I won’t be long.”

“Take as long as you want.”

Upstairs, Laura shed her traveling clothes and luxuriated in a long, hot shower. She washed her hair, willing the pounding water to erase her worries. Pulling on a thick, ankle-length terry robe, she combed her hair. Donna was right. A hot shower had been just what she needed.

Humming, she skipped down the stairs, pausing at the landing that curved down to the final four steps. Her in-laws stood in the foyer. Donna, clearly uncomfortable, glanced up at her.

Wishing she’d taken the time to get dressed, Laura knotted the sash to her robe. She felt vulnerable, at a disadvantage. “Hello, Edward, Meredith.”

Her father-in-law managed a small smile, but Meredith began crying.

Laura felt the pit of her stomach drop. “Let’s go into the living room.”

Trailing them, Laura knew she had to get this over with, but it didn’t lessen her trepidation. She’d always wanted a closer relationship with her in-laws, but Edward traveled so much for work and Meredith had never encouraged a deeper connection. Despite the fact that they had never been close, she had always hoped Meredith would become a true mother figure, especially since she really didn’t have one of her own. But the woman was entrenched in a social life that hadn’t included her daughter-in-law. Laura knew they both thought Jerry had married beneath himself.

Meredith had barely taken a seat when she began her tirade, waving her lace handkerchief like a flag. “Laura, what are you thinking?”

Laura started to answer. “I—”

“You’re not thinking of the children, just yourself. Jerry did everything he could to keep this family together.” She sniffed into the rumpled square of cotton. “Now, the moment he’s gone, you want to rip it to pieces.”

Laura hated conflict, but she didn’t have any choice. Again, she wished she and Meredith had the sort of relationship that encouraged confidences. She would like to pour out the whole story—tell her about the real Jerry, who emerged behind closed doors. But what purpose could it serve now? To hurt his parents, turn them against her? Their only child, they had idolized him. “You don’t understand, Meredith. I’m doing what I think is best for my family.”

“By taking them from their home, everything they know? From us? Hardly, Laura. You’re being selfish.”

The words hurt. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but I have to do what I believe is right. And Rosewood’s not that far. You can visit—”

Edward leaned forward. “Laura, why don’t you consider taking up something to get your mind off Jerry’s passing? You could go to school or…”

With what? Her allowance was too small for that. “I appreciate the suggestion, Edward. But we need a new start. And we can’t get it here.” Laura caught sight of Kirsten hovering in the doorway.

“You seem to have forgotten that the children are part of our family, too.” Meredith’s thin lips tightened.

Laura hated this tension. It seemed her entire life had been nothing but fighting. She wanted so much for it to stop. “And the kids can visit you.”

“I want to stay here with them!” Kirsten nearly shrieked the words.

Meredith held her arms out to her granddaughter and Kirsten rushed into them. “See what you’re doing to her!”

“She’ll adjust. It won’t be easy. I know that.” She reached for her courage. “But my mind’s made up.”

“Then expect a fight, my dear.” Meredith rubbed Kirsten’s back. “This isn’t over.”

The hard knot in Laura’s stomach grew even harder. Why couldn’t her in-laws see that she was fighting to save her family? That she wished she didn’t have to uproot them? But they hadn’t seen anything wrong in the way their son had dictated his will, easily accepting Paul as the executor.

In the end, there wasn’t anything Meredith could do about the children.

Laura contacted a Realtor who was thrilled to get a listing in the exclusive area and immediately leased out her home to an executive and his family. She committed the house for a year. By then she would know if she could succeed or if she would have to come back.

Without the funds for professional movers, Laura had to downscale. Calling it an estate rather than a garage sale, she culled through the pieces. Even with the rent from the house, it would be tight at first. Kirsten was horrified and locked herself in her room, but Gregg helped her tag the furniture.

Laura hadn’t planned on selling any of the children’s things anyway, not that she could get her daughter to listen. She thought of the baby grand piano and the other pieces Jerry had given to his parents. She certainly could have used the money.

Laura pitched some of Jerry’s shirts in a box for the Salvation Army. They’d collected a lot of things over the duration of their marriage, but Laura wasn’t attached to them. If it hadn’t been for the kids, she would have liked to forget all of that time. So most of the art and collectibles were going on the block, as well. They had been Jerry’s taste anyway, too contemporary for the turn-of-the-century house they were moving to.

Once the plans were in motion, Laura lost no time having the sale, then packing up the house. She hired the cheapest movers she could find.

Farewells with Meredith and Edward were filled with tears and hugs for the children. They were stiff with her, showing their displeasure. Kirsten huffed as she got in the car, her entire face a pout. Despite her own uncertainty, Laura didn’t cave. Instead she headed west out of the city. This time her anticipation edged ahead of her fear.

“This old house?” Kirsten asked in disgust when they pulled into the driveway.

Laura hung on to her patience. It had been a long drive, which her daughter had made feel even longer by sulking the entire way. It was also late in the day and they were all tired.

“Cool roof,” Gregg offered, bouncing out of the car. “Big, old yard! Are there swings?”

Grateful for her youngest’s attitude, Laura followed. She had barely turned the key in the lock when she spotted the moving truck arriving.

Soon the driver and his helper were unloading the furniture.

“Excuse me, some of these cartons should be upstairs,” Laura said, when they’d finished taking the beds and chests up.

“Not in the contract,” one of the men replied as he deposited her kitchen table in the middle of the living room.

Laura sighed. She had chosen the cheapest movers she could find. She and the kids could carry the boxes upstairs. Since she had packed them herself she hadn’t collected big ones anyway. “All right. Could you assemble the beds next? That way I can get them ready before…”

The man was shaking his head. “Not in the contract.”

Laura gaped at him. She couldn’t help it.

The man shrugged and headed back to the truck.

Maybe she should have paid just a little more.

“Mom!” Gregg ran inside. “There’s a lady here.”

Laura poked her head around the kitchen door. Annie had been trying to follow Gregg, but he was already hopping back through the maze of boxes to watch the movers.

“I’m here.”

“Hi! I just saw the truck. Welcome!”

“Thanks.”

Annie looked around at the haphazard cartons. “Wow.”

Laura hated to admit again how blunder-headed she was. “I picked a discount moving company,” she finally said.

“Ah. Well, I love a bargain. It’s like finding treasure.”

Laura straightened a box that was tilted precariously to one side. “I’m afraid it’s going to take a complete treasure hunt to find anything here.”

“That’s not something you have to worry about tonight. You’ll be my guests.”

She didn’t have the money for rooms at the bed-and-breakfast. “I hadn’t planned—”

Annie dodged to one side as the movers carried in a chest of drawers. “As my guests. Ethan and I insist. It’s our welcome gift to you and the children.”

“We can’t—”

“Yes, you can. I know the argument. The bed-and-breakfast is a business. But it’s not our only income. Remember, Ethan is a teacher. And we know where our sheets and towels are,” she added with a laugh.

“That does sound like heaven.” The kids would be exhausted by the time the movers left. And the thought of Annie’s inviting beds… “But isn’t this your busy season, with the wildflowers?”

“It’s Thursday. My weekenders don’t start checking in until tomorrow.”

“Well…”

“And you’ll have dinner with us.”

Laura opened her mouth to protest, but Annie waved her off. “What? You’ll take the kids for burgers instead? I don’t think so.”

Laura was so grateful for her kindness, she felt the sting of tears.

Annie gave her a reassuring hug. “You’re home now. And that’s what friends are for.”

It had been so long since Laura had been able to let friends into her life. She hadn’t been able to confide the terrible state of her marriage to anyone other than Donna. She had been too ashamed. Instinctively Jerry hadn’t liked Donna, so she hadn’t been comfortable coming around when he was home. Swallowing, Laura nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. We’ll see you when you’re done here.”

Kirsten stood at the bottom of the stairs as Annie introduced herself on the way out. “I’ll see you and your family for dinner later, Kirsten.”

“Okay.” She looked back at her mother.

“She invited us to spend the night at her bed-and-breakfast. We get to sleep on beds that are already put together.”

Kirsten didn’t look impressed.

It took another hour for the movers to unload the rest of their things. By then Laura was exhausted and ready to round up the kids.

Annie and Ethan were so welcoming that even Kirsten was subdued. They led the family back to the large kitchen rather than the dining room.

“It’s where we eat,” Annie explained. “We think it’s cozier.”

A pot of chicken and dumplings simmered on the stove and the big round table was set for five with dishes that looked as though they had been in the house since it was built.

Ethan, a cheerful, quick-witted man with a noticeable sense of fun, pulled out chairs for Laura and Kirsten. “And, you, young man, how about sitting next to me?”

Pleased to be singled out, Gregg hopped onto the spindle-back chair. “Okay.”

After they were seated, Ethan and Annie bowed their heads. It took Laura a moment to react, then she gestured to her children to follow suit. Her throat tightened as she heard Ethan ask the Lord to watch over her and the children as they settled into their new home.

Then Annie began to dish up the fragrant stew while Ethan questioned the kids about their schools in the city, explaining that he was a teacher.

“You have to make kids do homework and take tests?” Kirsten asked him with a hint of accusation.

“Yes, but I also direct plays, plan the field trips. Most of the kids love drama.”

Kirsten sipped her milk, but didn’t reply.

“Do you teach any other subjects?” Laura asked, sending Kirsten a reproving look.

“English. I try to make that fun for the kids, too. We act out Shakespeare—makes it easier for everyone to understand.” He held out his bowl and Annie filled it with steaming chicken and dumplings. “I know it’s not everybody’s favorite, but I think most of us can get something out of his works.”

“If they understand them?” Laura prompted.

“Exactly.”

She looked down at her full bowl. “This smells delicious.”

“My grandmother’s recipe,” Annie told her. “She and my grandfather raised me here.”

Laura wondered about Annie’s parents as she glanced at the old portraits on the walls. “It’s a great house…better, it’s a great home.”

Annie grinned, meeting her husband’s eyes. “Thank you.”

He clasped her hand and lifted it to his lips. “My Annie has the touch.”

Laura felt a spurt of envy. Maybe it was the exhaustion that was just now setting in, but she felt very close to the edge of tears.

Annie reached over and patted her arm. “It’s a big adjustment moving to a strange town, even one as inviting as Rosewood.”

“Yes,” Laura said, her voice thick. She cleared her throat.

After smoothing the napkin in her lap, Annie picked up her spoon. “The chicken and dumplings are guaranteed to fix whatever ails you.”

“Annie made apple and cherry pie,” Ethan told the children, rubbing his hands together. “Which do you like?”

“Cherry,” Gregg answered immediately.

Kirsten shrugged.

“You’ll have to try both then.” This engaging man seemed the perfect complement to his kind, energetic wife. “Laura, you picked a fine house.”

“We like it.” Kirsten glared at her, but Gregg just kept eating his dumplings. “Have you lived in Rosewood long?”

“Grew up here.” Ethan chuckled. “Thought I might have to leave to find a wife, then I met Annie.”

“Luckily for me,” Annie murmured.

“And we decided we wanted to make her family home ours.” Ethan added a few hefty spoonfuls of sugar to his tea.

Laura dipped her spoon into the gravylike broth. “Are your furnishings original?”

“Most of them. Annie can tell you which ones belonged to her grandparents.”

Annie passed a small dish of pickles that appeared to be homemade. “I had to add more beds, a few other things—but most everything was here. I did some rearranging, too.”

“It seems more like a family home than a bed-and-breakfast.” It was something that had struck Laura immediately.

Annie beamed. “Super! That’s exactly what I’ve tried to achieve.”

Ethan winked at his wife. “And we hope to fill it with children in time.”

Annie blushed, a pretty pinkening of her pale skin. Ethan put his hand over hers. Yes, they were a lovely couple. Laura swallowed her longing, her sense of regret. Why couldn’t she have met a man like Ethan? But then, on the surface, Jerry had seemed perfect, too.

Ethan had a way with kids that even Kirsten had a hard time deflecting. After dinner, he herded them both into the parlor by the kitchen to play games while Annie took Laura upstairs to show her their accommodations. Their generosity was overwhelming.

And in the morning Annie insisted on feeding them a hot breakfast before they took off to their own house. The kids dawdled but Laura was anxious to get started unpacking.

When she finally unlocked the door of her new home, it was daunting to see the mound of boxes. But she and the kids had been there less than an hour when she heard the doorbell.

“Mom!” Gregg hollered.

She set down the bed frame, still clueless how to put it together. “Coming.” Walking down the stairs she could hear the buzz of voices. Had her son allowed strangers into the house?

She was relieved to recognize Annie among some other women. “Hi.”

“Laura, I’ve rounded up recruits. Cindy, Leah, Katherine, Grace and Emma.”

Laura’s hand flew to her chest. “I don’t know what to say.”

Redheaded Cindy grinned. “Hello will do just fine. Then divvy us up however you want.”

Overwhelmed, Laura wasn’t at all certain how to ask them to help.

“I’m especially helpful in the kitchen,” Katherine suggested. “If that would all right. I could start sorting dishes, pots and pans.”

“Oh, yes,” Laura replied, relieved.

“And I’m good at toting boxes,” Grace added.

“They’re labeled,” Laura said. “With the rooms they belong in. I’m afraid they’re all in a huge pile right now, no rhyme or reason.”

“I can help with the boxes,” Emma pointed out. “Rhyme’s my specialty.”

“And I can help Katherine in the kitchen,” Leah offered.

“So, I can be your helper,” Cindy said. “What were you doing when we got here?”

“Trying to put together a bed,” Laura confessed, holding up a tiny screwdriver, the only one she’d been able to find.

“Ah.” Cindy fished in her pocket for her cell phone. “When all else fails…”

Annie took Laura by the elbow and guided her out to the front porch. “You okay?”

Laura shoved her hands in her pockets. “Yes. Why?”

“I want to help, but I don’t want to pressure you.”

“It’s not that…it’s…” Laura looked out at the quiet street, the old houses that spoke of generations of families living and loving in the same place. “I haven’t been accustomed to anything like this…it will take some getting used to. But I like it.”

“Whew.” Annie let out her breath.

“Didn’t you tell me this was going to be your busy day?”

“Yes, but not for a while. I have time to help.” Together they headed into the house.

Even though Laura wasn’t accustomed to the sound of women’s voices around her, the occasional laughter, she found she liked it immensely. Like a piece that had been missing, the chatter and occasional laughter fit perfectly.

After about a half hour of progress, she heard the low rumble of a man’s voice, accompanied by the tread of boots going up the stairs, then the distinct thud of tools.

Cindy popped her head into the kitchen where Laura was consulting on the placement of dishes. “We’ll have the beds put together in a few minutes if you want to come up and tell us where to position them.”

“What? How?”

“I called my husband, Flynn. I knew he’d make sure the beds were put together right. I’m pretty handy, but I’d hate to try assembling them and have somebody crash in the middle of the night.”

Laura pushed the hair off her forehead. “That would have been an initiation to the new house.”

“I like your spirit!”

That wasn’t something Laura had heard very often. Encouraged, she headed upstairs with Cindy. In Gregg’s room, Flynn, a lean, handsome man, had assembled the bed and was helping Gregg with his computer.

He grinned at her, and she immediately liked the tall man with the ready smile.

“Mom, Flynn makes software programs,” Gregg announced.

“That’s great, sweetie. Hello, and thank you for coming and doing this.”

“Always glad to help new friends.”

Together they quickly figured out where the beds in her bedroom and Gregg’s should go. Kirsten’s took longer.

“I don’t like it there.” Kirsten frowned as they pushed the bed beneath the wide window.

Laura sighed. They’d already moved the bed three times. “We’re running out of places to put it. We can always rearrange later.”

Kirsten’s room had a dormer ceiling, resulting in angled walls. Although architecturally interesting, it made arranging furniture difficult.

Kirsten’s face drooped. “It’s a pokey room.”

“You think so?” Cindy asked. “I guess I’m the weird one, then. This is my favorite room in the house. Before I got married, I lived in a Victorian quite a bit like this one. And it was the interesting rooms like this one that convinced me to live there. I can just picture willowy curtains—and this fabulous window seat, well…I always felt it was so private. I could curl up with a book or music and it was a secret nook, all mine.”

Kirsten looked over at the window seat. “I guess so.”

“I plan to make cushions for it when you decide on your color scheme,” Laura added.

They repositioned the bed one last time and then started on the other pieces. It was especially helpful to have Flynn’s brawn to move the furniture into place. The room looked pretty well put together when they were done. She had hoped by making the room special, it might help to break down Kirsten’s defenses.

“What now?” Flynn asked.

“Aren’t we keeping you from your work?”

Flynn grinned. “One of the bonuses of being boss.”

“We need to make sure we have all the upstairs boxes actually upstairs,” Cindy told him.

“Aye, aye.” He smiled. “Boss at work, that is.”

“Pooh.” Cindy’s red hair seemed to crackle in the outpouring of sunlight from the windows. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s hardly henpecked. Do you know where the boxes with the sheets are?”

Laura felt so inept. “Not really.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find them. I want to make sure Flynn finds all the boxes that need to come up anyway.”

Shaking her head at the resourcefulness of these women, Laura headed back downstairs. At noon, the doorbell rang. Although Laura had forgotten to plan for lunch, the women hadn’t. Someone had ordered sandwiches—made with homemade bread—from the café down the street, along with soup, salad and brownies.

Even Kirsten relaxed as everyone in the house stopped to eat. The women knew each other so well, by the time lunch was over, the place rang with their laughter.

Laura learned that Katherine was the pastor of the Community Church. She had married her husband, Michael, after moving to Rosewood. Cindy was her best friend and she had married Flynn after the death of her sister—then his wife and mother of his triplets.

Grace had survived a horrific car accident that required numerous surgeries. Which was how she had met her husband, Noah, the finest surgeon in the area. But then, Grace was biased.

Emma had come to Rosewood through the witness protection program. Fortunately, the man who was stalking her had been caught and now was in prison for life. Even more fortunately, she had met her husband in Rosewood— Seth, the man who had refurbished this house.

And Leah had come to Rosewood from Los Angeles, in search of her child, who had been abducted by his father as an infant. Now, she and her son were reunited, and she was married to the man who had loved the boy as his own. They were expecting another child in six months.

Laura wanted to confide her own past, but she couldn’t. Everything she had ever confided to Jerry had been turned around on her, more ammunition for him to belittle her with. Besides, her situation was so humiliating. It seemed as if she’d been ashamed all her life. From childhood when she couldn’t invite friends over because of her parents’ fighting.

Cindy stood and stretched. “If I eat another brownie, I’m going to bust.”

“Me, too.” Katherine began gathering empty paper plates.

By the time evening rolled around, the breakfast table was in place in its nook, all the boxes that had been stacked there previously now distributed appropriately. All the bedrooms were set up, bed linens and blankets on each bed, and towels were stacked neatly in the bathroom. Dishes, glasses, and pots and pans were put away in the kitchen cabinets.

As the women prepared to leave, they gave Laura a hug, and again she felt close to tears. Ridiculous, she told herself. More emotional than she’d felt since the death of her husband, since finding out about her own untenable situation.

“Thank you all so much. I don’t know what to say.”

“We’re glad we could be here for you,” Katherine murmured.

Emma shifted her purse to her shoulder. “And I’m supposed to tell you that Annie’s bringing dinner.”

“But, she’s already done so much—”

“Don’t fight it,” Leah advised, leaning over to whisper. “She’s my best friend and a definite keeper.”

As Laura closed the door behind them, she finally gave in to tears.

“Mom?” Kirsten’s voice wavered behind her.

Laura quickly wiped her cheeks. “Yes, sweetie?”

Kirsten stared at her for a moment. “Gregg’s hungry.”

“Annie’s bringing dinner over. Isn’t that thoughtful?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

But Laura had seen a crack in Kirsten’s rocky facade. It was a start. Now she just had to work on Paul. And pretend she had the courage she had lost so long ago.

Chapter Three

“You moved here?” Astonished, Paul got up from behind his desk, staring at her. Only a nut would pack up her children and move to a strange town on a whim. “What did you do with your house? You didn’t leave it empty, did you?”

“Of course n—”

“You know you’re supposed to consult with me before you make these decisions. That’s why Jerry left the plans in place—to protect you and the children.” He perched on the edge of the desk. “What were you thinking? Just hire movers and…Hey! Where’d you get the money to move?”

“You told me you couldn’t teach me how to flip houses since I was living in Houston, so that left me one option—to move here.” She edged back in the chair. “I rented a house over on Elm Street that I can afford on my allowance, then went back to Houston and leased out the house. And I had an estate sale to raise the money for moving costs. That and I used a bargain mover.”

He pictured her selling everything Jerry had accumulated over his lifetime and groaned. An estate sale? In the short time since he had seen her it had to be a giveaway sale. And no telling what kind of people she had rented the house to. But she had him there. He wasn’t sure he could interfere with that decision. She did own half the house by Texas law. As a broker he knew that. And he had never imagined that she would twist his words to mean that she could be part of the business by moving here. But he didn’t know how to undo what she had done, either.

She shifted, loosening her grip on the chair. “So, what do we do first?”

“First?”

“You know, to begin my training.”

He hadn’t even begun to wrap his mind around what she had done yet. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Oh, um, yes. Okay.” She started to get up. “Where is it?”

“I’ll get it.” He needed a minute to think. He crossed the room, filling two mugs. “Cream or sugar?”

“Just cream, thanks.”

He handed her one of the mugs. “So, Laura. This was a huge step.”

She warmed her hands on the steaming mug. “It was. But it means a lot to me. I explained that before.”

“Settling in is going to be a big adjustment.”

“I thought so, too.” She lifted her gaze, her green eyes entreating. “But Rosewood’s a lot different than Houston.”

“You form opinions pretty fast.”

She wondered if he thought that was bad. “It’s hard not to.”

“You’ll have to enroll the kids in their new schools.”

She swallowed a sip of the hot brew. “Did that yesterday.”

“Really?”

“I didn’t want them to miss any more than necessary. It’s difficult enough to settle in a new school without having them get behind.”

“Don’t you have to have records transferred or something?”

“I did that.” She took another tentative sip.

He put his mug down on the desk. “Still, you’re going to need time unpacking, settling in—”

“No.” She ran her fingers over the handle of the mug. “I’m ready. That’s done for the most part. There’s always more to do, but it’s livable.”

He pictured the house in a jumble of boxes. But that was why Jerry had named him executor, to keep an eye on how she was caring for the kids. “Laura, this isn’t a school.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s an office.”

Her expression faltered. “But you said—”

“That I couldn’t train you if you lived in Houston. But I can’t stop working and set up classes, either.”

“Then what?”

She had gone from hopeful to desperate in the space of minutes. She wouldn’t last. “Start by spending some time in the office, watching what I do.”

“Oh.” Deflated, she gripped her mug tighter, then nodded. “Okay.”

She would get bored fast. Sitting at the desk next to his, listening to only his side of telephone conversations, trying to digest a lot of financial information she couldn’t possibly understand. He’d give her a week at the most before she stopped coming around. She’d probably get bored with Rosewood almost as soon.

The phone rang. And her tutoring began.

“So, how was school?” Laura put a plate of oatmeal raisin cookies on the table. She had made arrangements with Paul to be home each day before the children got in from school. Since he looked relieved at the suggestion, she guessed he would have been just as happy if she had suggested a much earlier quitting time.

Gregg grabbed a cookie. “There’s a kid in my class who can cross his eyes, hold his breath and wiggle his ears. All at once.”

“Impressive.” She tweaked the tip of his nose. “Do you like your teacher?”

“Yeah.” He took a swallow of milk. “She said next Monday we can all bring a pet for show-and-tell.”

“Oh.” They didn’t have a pet.

“It’s okay, Mom. Even if we had the aquarium set up I couldn’t take it to school.”

He always rolled with the punches. She put another cookie on his plate.

“Kirsten, how about you?”

She shrugged. “It’s a school.”

“Did you meet anyone who could wiggle their ears?”

Her daughter sighed. “Mom.”

Nothing so unsophisticated for her daughter. “Let me rephrase. Did you meet anyone you liked?”

Kirsten was quiet for a few moments. “Kinda.”

“Does this person have a name?”

“Mandy. She’s sort of new, too. She moved here at the first of the year and started with the other kids.” Kirsten broke her cookie into smaller pieces. “People think she’s neat, though.”

“They’ll think you are, too.” Laura had never worried about Kirsten’s popularity. Like Jerry she had always attracted followers. She smoothed her daughter’s hair, but Kirsten jerked back. Laura kept her sigh to herself.

“If I could catch a frog, I could take that on Monday,” Gregg deliberated.

Kirsten shuddered. “Gross.”

Laura poured more milk into Gregg’s glass. “What if I talk to the teacher? See if you could bring your butterfly collection instead?”

“That’d be cool. It’d be my dead pets.”

“Double gross.” Kirsten rolled her eyes.

The doorbell rang. “After you’re finished with your snack, homework, guys.”

Laura went and opened the door. It was Katherine and Cindy.

“I hope this isn’t a bad time,” Katherine began.

“No, not at all.” She gestured to the living room. “Come in, sit down.”

“We thought you might need a hand with the rest of the boxes.” Cindy held up her cell phone. “The girls are keeping the time open if you agree.”

Laura was touched by their offer. “I can’t ask you to keep helping.”

“You didn’t.” Katherine tucked her keys into her pocket. “Would it be all right for us to phone the others?”

Laura bit her lip. “If you’re sure it won’t be putting you out…”

“We’re sure.” Cindy started dialing almost before the words were out of her mouth.

As the kids shyly passed through and headed upstairs, Laura noticed that Gregg had piled a few extra cookies on top of his books. Oh well, looked like dinner might be late anyway.

It seemed only moments passed before the women began to assemble. And they brought chocolates, brownies and cookies with them. Annie carried in two of her signature pies.

“Chocolate and sugar for fuel,” Emma explained. “Only the bare necessities.”

Again, laughter filled the old house along with the treble of women’s chatter as they went up and down the stairs, unloading boxes, finding places for most everything.

Grace smiled, a mixture of sweetness and mischief. “This way you’ll have to stay in touch with us—if you want to find anything.”

Laura imagined that wouldn’t be a hardship. “I never expected this much…help.”

“I came from the city, too. I wasn’t used to how neighborly people here are. And I wasn’t comfortable with it, at first.” She raised her scarred hand. “But it wound up helping me heal…inside.”

It seemed this woman could see right through her.

“Laura, would you rather have these in the dining room or living room?” Leah held out a pair of slender brass candlesticks, turning them so the afternoon sun hit the aged patina.

“Um…dining room, I think.”

Katherine was right behind her with a doll older than Laura herself. “For display, I’m guessing?”

“Yes. She was my grandmother’s.”

Katherine ran her fingers gently over the faded porcelain face. “I love things with history and sentiment. My house looks like I put it together from a jumble sale.” One hand flew to cover her mouth. “Not that yours does—just the opposite, you have really stylish furniture.”

“It’s not my style, though,” Laura confessed, shrugging off the unintentional slight. “My husband was the contemporary fan. I prefer the furnishings at Annie’s.”

“Like Cindy and Flynn,” Katherine mused. “She loves Victorian and he likes ultramodern. They compromised by turning her house into a children’s refuge center. Still, it always takes me aback when I see how the new one’s furnished.”

“And Cindy doesn’t mind?” Laura wouldn’t have thought the independent woman would capitulate so completely.

“She’s so nuts over Flynn she said she could live in a cave and be happy.”

No. Cindy and Flynn weren’t anything like she and Jerry had been.

Grace touched Laura’s arm. “I hope we’re not upsetting you, talking about spouses.”

“No. It’s okay.”

“If it ever does, will you tell us?”

Laura knew it wouldn’t be a worry. “Okay. If you’ll agree to tell me something.”

“Sure.”

“How did you get comfortable with the neighborly help?”

Grinning, Grace clapped her hands. “It’s a long, long story. Which I’ll be glad to tell you when we meet for lunch.”

Laura found herself smiling, as well. “Lunch?”

“As soon as we can set it up.”

Her smile grew. Jerry had frowned on anything she had done that took her away from the house. It had been difficult even to schedule her volunteer work. He had given in on that only because his mother encouraged Laura’s efforts. But even casual lunches with Donna used to set him off. Now, her sense of freedom soared.

Chapter Four

Paul continued deliberating about his decision to allow Laura into the office. She was clinging like glue. And carrying home books on finance to study. She was there early every day, leaving just in time to meet her children after school. She took copious notes and asked so many questions, he couldn’t doubt her dedication. But he worried that she might be neglecting the kids for her tutoring. He needed another opinion, so he headed over to see his parents.

The tallest trees in Rosewood were in the yard of the Russell family home. At least Paul thought so. Ever since he was a kid and his father had pushed him in the tire swing beneath the widest oak, Paul had believed that particular tree had reached all the way to the sky. And in the dusk it still looked that way.

No one was in the house, but he knew where to look.

They sat out back on the porch that stretched from one end of the house to the other. Although he’d had new lighting installed, they hadn’t turned it on. Instead, an oil lamp flickered on the table and he guessed they held hands as they sat side by side in the ancient swing.

As long as he could remember, once he and his younger brothers and sisters had been put to bed for the night, his parents would slip out back to sit together. He used to wonder what they would talk about in their hushed voices. There had been worry, which he’d instinctively shared. He’d known his mother was happy, though. They’d all been. Because his dad had come back from the war—albeit injured. But even though he’d just been a kid, Paul had known they were lucky. His dad was an Air Force pilot and most of them hadn’t made it back from Vietnam.

When he saw his parents, he questioned whether a love like theirs was even possible nowadays. Take that unpredictable Laura Manning. Jerry had probably thought she was a sweet, caring girl when he married her. He couldn’t imagine his friend marrying someone so set on the bottom line, her chin practically dragging the ground because she wanted more. Had she changed so much? Or had she just fooled him?

“Hello, honey,” his mother, Elizabeth, greeted him.

“It’s quiet out here. No rugrats visiting?” His nieces and nephews were the delight of everyone in the family.

“Not tonight. How about some tea?” She started to rise.

“I can get it.”

“You sound tired, son.” Charles was close to all the siblings, but he’d always been particularly attuned to him.

This was the place Paul could always bring his troubles, always find understanding. He had already told them about Laura when Jerry had passed away, his concern for their children and her abrupt arrival in Rosewood. “It’s the Manning family. I’m worried about the kids. I hate to think about what kind of mess they must be living in.”

Charles leaned forward. “Haven’t you gone over there yet?”

“You think I should?”

“How else are you going to know exactly what the conditions are?”

Elizabeth patted his arm. “It may not be as bad as you’re guessing.”

“I’d like to think not, but Dad’s right, I have to see for myself. I’ve been putting it off because I’m not real sure what I’m going to do when I come face-to-face with it.”

“You’ll work that out, son.” Charles rubbed his chin. “Jerry put his trust in you with good reason.”

“And you can count on us to help,” his mother added. “Maybe the boy would like story time at the library. I could watch out for him then.” Elizabeth’s job as a part-time librarian had helped the family through lean times, and she had been able to adjust her schedule around the continuing surgeries Charles had to go through year after year.

“I’ll see, Mom. Thanks.”

“And you can bring both children here if you need to,” his father offered.

“Thanks, Dad.” He sipped his cool tea.

“How is she doing in the office?” Elizabeth asked, offering him a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

He took one. “She makes notes constantly, listens to every word.”

Charles stretched out his stiff legs. “Sounds like she really wants to learn.”

“For now.” He dusted the crumbs off his pants.

“Why don’t you give her an honest chance,” Elizabeth suggested, offering her husband the plate.

Paul stood. “It’s going to be a waste of time.”

Elizabeth frowned. “You don’t know that.”

“It’s not like you to prejudge people,” Charles said evenly.

“I’m just remembering Jerry’s instructions.” He leaned against the porch rail. “He wanted me to keep a close eye on the kids. He was probably worried that she would go through the money so fast there wouldn’t be enough left to educate the kids.”

Charles rubbed his bad knee. “Does she strike you as that sort of woman?”

Paul put his foot on the lowest rail. “She seems really needy, unhappy. And Jerry gave her a beautiful home and everything she wanted.”

“Maybe it just seemed that way on the surface.” Elizabeth shifted in the swing.

Paul sipped his tea, remembering. “Some women only think about money.”

“And some don’t,” Elizabeth reminded him. She had led a life of sacrifice for her family and he was ashamed that he needed the reminder.

“Your mother’s right. See for yourself, son.”

By Saturday morning, Laura was exasperated. The training was practically nonexistent. All she had done so far that week was listen to Paul’s phone calls and trail him around the office. She suspected his plan was to bore her to death so she’d give up and go home. But this was her home now, more of one than she had ever had.

She heard a loud thud upstairs. Then the trill of squabbling voices. The kids were wound so tight they were practically jumping off the walls. She needed to find them another outlet besides school.

The doorbell rang. What now?

Yanking open the door she was startled to see Paul. “Hi.”

“Morning.” He extended a box. “Muffins, fresh from the bakery.”

“Oh…How nice. Well, then, come in.”

He entered, his steps tentative. His expression, as he took in the tidy living room, seemed incredulous. “It smells great in here. What is that?”

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