# Right Where We Started

Pamela Hearon

A second chance to choose loveReturning to Taylor's Grove is bittersweet for Audrey Merrill. She's come home to take care of her ailing mother and finally face her painful past. She just never expected her daughter's new teacher would be Mark Dublin. As childhood sweethearts, she and Mark were inseparable. Until her sister's tragic death—an accident Audrey blames on him.Mark is back to make amends. And, surrounded by memories of happier times, it doesn't take Audrey long to remember the love they once shared. Now she's faced with the same dilemma as years ago: hold on to the sorrow or forgive and embrace happiness.

A second chance to choose love

Returning to Taylor’s Grove is bittersweet for Audrey Merrill. She’s come home to take care of her ailing mother and finally face her painful past. She just never expected her daughter’s new teacher would be Mark Dublin. As childhood sweethearts, she and Mark were inseparable. Until her sister’s tragic death—an accident Audrey blames on him.

Mark is back to make amends. And, surrounded by memories of happier times, it doesn’t take Audrey long to remember the love they once shared. Now she’s faced with the same dilemma as years ago: hold on to the sorrow or forgive and embrace happiness.

“Audrey.” The last syllable compressed as his air ran out.

“Hello, Mark.” Her blue-gray eyes held none of the warmth that suddenly engulfed him.

He thought he was prepared for this moment...had known it was coming for two weeks now. It was the reason he’d moved back to Taylor’s Grove, the reason he’d taken this job.

He’d prepared for the icy glare and the bitter tone and the eleven years of aging since his last glimpse of her. But he hadn’t prepared for the richness age had added to Audrey’s voice or the deeper beauty that had emerged like a stone from a grit tumbler, polished to perfection by the sands of time.

He wasn’t prepared for the way his heart swelled or how the sight of her made him feel like a thirsty man struggling to reach the far oasis.

He’d prepared for the hatred...not the love.

Dear Reader,

If you’ve ever had a dog as a pet, you know what it’s like to be loved unconditionally. You can scold them, but at the first kind look or gesture, they’re immediately back at your side, looking at you with adoration shining in their eyes.

We could learn a lot from dogs. Even without the sophistication of human intelligence and logic, they’ve figured out that forgiveness is a powerful force—one that can reshape the spirit and breathe into it new life.

Right Where We Started, Book 4 in my Taylor’s Grove, Kentucky, series, is built around the theme of forgiveness. Unlike the other books in the series, both the hero and heroine of this story grew up in Taylor’s Grove. They were lifelong best friends and childhood sweethearts until tragedy pushed them in different directions.

Audrey Merrill and Mark Dublin might have a second chance at love if only they can learn to forgive. So, of course, there is a dog (well, actually several) to teach them that just because a relationship started as puppy love doesn’t mean it can’t last forever.

Until next time,

Pamela

## Right Where We Started. Pamela Hearon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

PAMELA HEARON grew up in Paducah, Kentucky, a place that infuses its inhabitants with Southern values and hospitality. Here she finds inspiration for her quirky characters, her stories’ backdrops and her narrative voice. Pamela was a 2013 RITA® Award finalist and a Maggie Award finalist for her first Harlequin Superromance story, Out of the Depths. The Summer Place was a 2014 National Readers’ Choice Award finalist. Visit Pamela at pamelahearon.com, and on Facebook and Twitter.

To my GNOs—Jackie, Mindy, Cathy, Rita, Debbie, Sharon, Debby, Kathy and Dishona—who bring that kind of love and acceptance to my life that only girlfriends understand...even when my accent scrapes across their eardrums like pieces of Styrofoam rubbed together.

Acknowledgments

Thanks to my fabulous agent, Jennifer Weltz (Jean V. Naggar Literary Agency), for all the hard work and time she puts in on my behalf.

Thank you to my wonderful editor, Karen Reid, for not being afraid to pull the reins in on me when the journeys in my mind veer too far from the map.

Thanks to my critique group—Angela Campbell, Sandra Jones and Maggie Van Well—who dedicate so many hours to helping me put the perfect word in the perfect place.

Thank you to Cynthia D’Alba who is always ready to talk me through those plot problems and make time for ice cream.

And forever love and thanks to my precious husband, Dick, who makes every day of my life a thing to celebrate.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Acknowledgments

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

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

Late August

AN ODD MIXTURE of emotion swept through Audrey Merrill as she opened the wide front door of the iconic redbrick building and led her daughter, Tess, inside. A deep breath filled her head with the unique smell—a combination of the fresh scent of pine cleaner mingling with, though not quite disguising, the odor of musty books, crayons, school glue and seventy-two years of sweaty children returning from recess. The familiar scent, which hadn’t perceptively changed in the twenty-four years since she’d entered these halls as a kindergartner, welcomed her home even while it pinged her heart with memories of the things that had changed.

The unexpected death of her dad most recently.

“This place smells exactly like it did when I was your age.” Pausing just inside, she gave Tess’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

Tess curled her upper lip and sniffed the air, then gave her head a shake, which sent her red curls bouncing. “It doesn’t smell like my old school.”

The comment brought a smile to Audrey’s lips. “Your ‘old school’ was a lot newer than this one.” At least fifty years she figured, considering the newish neighborhood they’d left only two days ago in Titusville, Florida. “That’s your room.” She nodded to the closed door of the first-grade classroom as they passed it, heartened by the exuberant sound of the children within enjoying some fun activity. Obviously, Mrs. Lively was still on top of her game despite being in her sixties now.

Tess bounced on her tiptoes and craned her neck, not tall enough to see through the window of the door on the right.

“You’ll like Mrs. Lively,” Audrey assured her. “She was one of my favorite teachers.”

The classrooms were lined up in order with even-numbered grades on the left and odd-numbered grades on the right. The last door on the right—the one across from the eighth grade—belonged to the office. Just before they opened it, a whiff of fresh-baked cookies floated from the kitchen, which, along with the cafeteria, was housed at the back of the building.

Tess’s eyes widened in appreciation as she took a deep sniff. “I like this school. It smells yummy!”

Marta, the school secretary, looked up from her computer as soon as the door opened. Audrey and Tess had been in Taylor’s Grove barely an hour last month when Marta showed up with her four children, insisting on entertaining Tess while Audrey went to the funeral home and made arrangements. And Pastor O’Malley’s wife, Faith, had been staying around-the-clock with Audrey’s mom, Helen, until Audrey could make the trip from Florida to Kentucky.

Their kindness had been an important factor in Audrey’s decision to move back home.

Marta’s face brightened into a welcoming grin. “Hello, Audrey.” Although she’d lived in the States for several years now, Marta’s Honduran accent still set her apart from the natives of Taylor’s Grove. She moved to the counter and directed her smile in Tess’s direction. “And hello, Tess. We are glad to have you with us.” Her dark eyes filled with question as they moved back to Audrey. “Are you back for good so soon?”

Too soon, Audrey thought, considering the circumstances that brought her back to live in Taylor’s Grove. But she knew it wasn’t what Marta was asking.

“We got things wrapped up in Florida faster than I expected,” she answered. “And just got to Mom and Da—” she paused to correct herself “—um, Mom’s late yesterday afternoon. But I thought the quicker I could get Tess back into school, the less she would have to catch up on.” Although that wasn’t much of an issue. School had started less than a week ago, and her daughter was very bright.

“I am sure she will catch up quickly.” Marta directed her comment to Tess, who nodded in response. The young woman reached under the counter and came up with a set of forms attached to a clipboard, which she handed to Audrey. “You will need to fill these papers out. She is starting today, then?”

Audrey looked at Tess. “What do you think, kiddo?”

“I think yes.”

“Okay, then.” Audrey took the papers and sat down in the chair to fill them out.

Tess pressed her nose against the side light panel by the door. “It smells like cookies out there.”

Marta gave a soft laugh as she came around the counter and held out her hand. “Shall we go to the kitchen and see if Mrs. Workman will let us sneak one out?”

“Yes!” Tess caught her hand and led the way out of the office.

Her daughter was bubbling with enthusiasm about everything this morning, but then, Mrs. Workman’s cookies were worthy of enthusiasm. Being the student picked to take the lunch count to the cafeteria and finding a reward of a warm oatmeal cookie waiting for you was one of the delights of growing up in Taylor’s Grove.

One of the many delights, Audrey reminded herself once again in an effort to convince her conscience this move was the right thing.

Her ex-husband, Alex, had done his best to make her feel guilty for moving Tess away from him and his new wife and her two children...and he’d done a good job.

Audrey could hear the monotonous low tone of Mr. Williams’s voice through the closed door of the principal’s office—another constant from her childhood. It didn’t matter when she left eleven years ago, she’d sworn she’d never move back. Circumstances changed. Life changed. And life changed you.

But Taylor’s Grove would always be home.

She stood up to place the completed forms on the counter just as Tess and Marta returned, hands and mouths filled with cookie.

Marta held out one wrapped in a napkin. “Mrs. Workman says welcome home.”

“Yay!” Audrey’s mouth watered before she could get the first bite. She gobbled it down while Marta made copies of the various items Audrey had been told to bring with her.

Finally, all was done. Marta gave Tess a wink. “Are you ready to go meet your teacher and your classmates?”

“Yes!” Tess did her signature tiptoe bounce.

Audrey laughed. “I’ve already told her how much she’s going to enjoy Mrs. Lively. What a great lady.”

Marta’s black eyebrows drew in with concern. “You have not heard then. Mrs. Lively retired two weeks ago.” She lowered her voice to a sympathetic tone. “Her husband has been diagnosed with Parkinson’s, and they have decided to travel while they still can.”

“Oh.” Audrey’s heart sank at the news. “I hate to hear that. Randall’s been the mailman here for as long as I can remember.”

“A substitute is filling in for him.” Marta paused as if the remark called for a reverent moment of silence. “But we have a new teacher who has already taken Mrs. Lively’s place,” she said finally. “He is from here, so you probably know him. Mark Dublin?”

The name threw a punch to Audrey’s gut, knocking the wind from her lungs and depriving her brain of the oxygen needed to think straight.

Mark Dublin was back in Taylor’s Grove? Was going to be Tess’s teacher? Not if she had any say-so in the matter!

Marta’s eyes squinted in question and she threw a concerned glance toward Tess. “Do you know... Mr. Dublin?”

Not wanting to make a scene in front of her daughter, Audrey held her tongue but managed a nod, continuing to try to catch her breath until she could croak out a few words at a time. “Could I...see Mr. Williams, please?”

“Of course.”

Marta went to the door of the principal’s office and knocked softly before going in and closing the door behind her. She was in there for less than a minute before she came back out. “Mr. Williams can see you now.” She turned her attention to Tess. “Tess, would you like to put these papers in the mailboxes for me? I need one of each color in each box.”

Tess pointed to the door of the inner office. “Can you go in there without me, Mama? I have some work to do.”

“Okay, punkin. I won’t be long.” Audrey threw an appreciative glance toward Marta. “Thanks,” she said before squaring her shoulders and entering the principal’s office.

“Audrey.” Mr. Williams came around the desk to greet her with a warm two-handed shake. “So glad to have you back. How are you doing?”

The tenderness in his voice softened her for a second. “I’m okay,” she answered automatically before the cramp in her stomach protested the lie. She closed the door behind her. “Actually, that’s not true. I was handling things pretty well until I heard that the person responsible for my sister’s death is my daughter’s new teacher. That’s unacceptable, I’m afraid.” Her voice wobbled through the last sentence. “Surely, there’s a way...”

“I understand how you feel, Audrey.” His gentle manner allowed a breath of hope to fill her lungs. “But—”

Oh. There’s a but. The breath solidified into a chunk of ice in her chest.

“We were fortunate to get Mark on such short notice.” He indicated a chair for her, and she sat as he leaned against the front of his desk, hiking a leg up into a half-sitting position. “Most of you young folks aren’t looking to come to a small district like Taylor’s Grove. Our enrollment’s waning, and we can’t compete with the bigger schools salary-wise. But, timing’s everything, as they say, and Mark was just recently back in the States after all those years in the Peace Corps and looking for a way to give back to the community that nurtured him. The other kids’ parents are thrilled.”

Audrey gritted her teeth. He made Mark sound like some kind of hero. “Surely, you can understand my hesitance to place Tess’s safety in Mark’s, um, Mr. Dublin’s hands for seven hours a day.” His responsive sigh sounded too much like “No, I don’t understand,” so any viable solution would have to come from her. “Maybe she could test out of the first grade. She’s very bright, so perhaps she could skip it and move on to the second.”

The principal pushed his glasses higher on his nose in a gesture she remembered from her childhood. Then he clasped his hands loosely in his lap. “I wouldn’t advise that. Her lower maturity level might cause problems socially later on. And, besides, it wouldn’t solve anything. She’d still be in Mark’s class. With so few students, we decided to save a salary by combining the two grades when Betty retired. That still puts only fifteen children in the class. Tess will make it sixteen.”

Audrey rubbed the throbbing area between her brows. Why couldn’t anything be easy anymore?

As if he’d read her mind, Mr. Williams spoke again. “You’re making this too difficult, Audrey.” He turned his palms up and splayed his fingers. “It is what it is.”

And what it was was a disaster. Here, she’d thought she’d done the right thing—moving back to Taylor’s Grove to keep her mom from having to go to a nursing home. She hadn’t expected to be rewarded, but she also hadn’t expected everything to turn to crap...especially on the very first day.

“Maybe one of the districts nearby...” She hadn’t meant to speak her thoughts.

“That would mean paying out-of-district tuition and providing your own transportation.”

“Which would mean having to get Mom out in all kinds of conditions—hers and the weather.”

“It would also make your daughter an outsider in her own community.” Mr. Williams’s voice took on its fatherly sound. “There is a way, though.” He paused long enough to give it meaning. “Forgiveness would be the way.”

Forgive Mark Dublin? Audrey’s insides coiled like a snake intent on striking. She tried to suck in a breath, but the room seemed ten times smaller than it used to be and void of any usable air.

“You and Mark were inseparable for a lot of years, Audrey. Give him—give us—a chance.”

The throbbing inched toward Audrey’s temples, threatening a full-blown migraine. She didn’t need one of those on top of everything else.

She sighed in resignation. Some things in life she had no control over. Her sister’s fall. Her dad’s heart attack. Her husband’s falling in love with someone else. Her mom’s early onset Alzheimer’s.

But forgiving Mark Dublin? That she could control.

“I may not be able to keep Tess from being in his class, but Mark Dublin lost any chance of friendship with me eleven years ago.”

She heard the bitterness in her voice, and when she swallowed, the taste of it remained on her tongue.

And in her heart.

* * *

“HUNTER?”

A pair of large, blue eyes turned Mark’s way.

“Didn’t you just have a turn?”

The little boy nodded, eyes downcast now.

“Then you have to go to the back of the line and wait for your turn to come around again.” Mark laid a hand on the boy’s back, combining the gentle nudge in the right direction with an affectionate pat. “I saw how you skipped every other bar that last time. Boy, you’re strong!”

The little towhead’s face jerked up and he beamed at the praise. “My dad calls me a monkey!”

“Well, take that as a compliment because monkeys are smart animals, very clever.” Mark went into his best monkey imitation, bending his arms and legs, scratching the top of his head with one hand and his side with the other as his lips protruded monkey-style. “Oooo, oooo, oooo,” he huffed, jumping his way up and down the line, eliciting shrieks of delight from his audience of six-and seven-year-olds. A couple joined his antics, followed by a few more. Soon his entire area of the playground had become a simian relocation program.

“Hence the name monkey bars.”

Mark spun around mid-oooo at the sound of the principal’s voice. But it wasn’t George Williams’s imposing sight that filled his eyes and made his head spin so hard he had to take a step back to keep his balance.

“Audrey.” The last syllable compressed as his air ran out.

“Hello, Mark.” The blue-gray eyes held none of the warmth that suddenly engulfed him.

He thought he was prepared for this moment, had known it was going to happen for two weeks now. Being close to Audrey and his aging parents was the reason he’d moved back to Taylor’s Grove and taken this job.

He’d prepared for the icy glare and the bitter tone and the eleven years of aging since his last glimpse. But he hadn’t prepared for the richness that age had added to Audrey’s voice, or the deeper beauty that had emerged like a stone from a grit tumbler, polished to perfection by the sands of time.

He wasn’t prepared for the way his heart swelled or how the sight of her made him feel like a thirsty man struggling to reach the far oasis.

He’d prepared for the hatred—not the love.

The only thing that saved him from making a complete fool of himself was George clapping his hands, effectively drawing attention long enough for Mark to take a gulp of air that jump-started his brain. “We have a new student this morning, Mr. Dublin. This is Tess Merrill. She’ll be in your first-grade class. You already know her mother, Audrey Merrill.”

Yes, she was no longer Audrey Paschal but Audrey Merrill now. Mark’s eyes dropped to the little girl, a miniature version of Audrey at that age. She had dancing blue-gray eyes and a wide smile that met his as he squatted and offered his hand. “We’re glad to have you, Tess Merrill. I’m Mr. Dublin, also known as Monkey Man.”

Tess giggled as she shook his hand. “I would have brought you a cookie, Mr. Monkey Man, but I ate it.”

“That would explain the crumb on your cheek.” He reached out with a finger to dust it off, but Audrey’s hands appeared on her daughter’s shoulders, inching the child protectively back against her legs. The gesture cut through Mark’s insides like a scythe, but he redirected his finger to point to the same place on his own cheek. Tess picked up the cue and flicked away the crumb with a sweep of her palm.

Mark straightened back up, meeting the wrath in Audrey’s eyes and understanding the silent warning. “Tess,” he said, without breaking eye contact with the child’s mother, “we have about five more minutes of recess. Would you like to meet some of your classmates?”

In his peripheral vision, he saw George hold out his hand to the little girl. “I think I see a couple of girls over there who are very excited to make your acquaintance,” the principal said.

Tess leaned her head back to look at her mom, and Audrey was forced to break the staring contest. “Go meet your new friends, punkin. I’ll be here after school to pick you up.” She leaned down and gave Tess a hug before the child left them.

Mark watched her skip happily away. “Great kid. Obviously well-adjusted.”

“Let’s don’t try to sugarcoat any of this, Mark.” Audrey crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her face a hard mask. “Had I known you were the first-grade teacher, I might’ve made different arrangements for Mom. But I only found out fifteen minutes ago. I’m too far in to change my plans now. But let me make one thing clear—you are Tess’s teacher, not her buddy. You are never to touch my child, not even to brush a crumb from her cheek.”

Hostility was something Mark had planned for, thank God. With practiced precision, he met it head-on with honesty and a smile. “Many of my students hug me every morning when they come in my room and every afternoon when they leave.” He shrugged. “If Tess wants to hug me, and I can’t hug her back, I worry how it might make her feel. But I understand your hesitation. I’ll leave it to you to explain that I don’t think she has cooties.”

“I...” He watched the conflict working as Audrey chewed her bottom lip, knew the precise moment when she put her child’s best interest above her own need to punish him. “Well, I don’t want her to think something is wrong with her. This move has been difficult enough.” Her eyes glanced to where Tess was already holding hands with two new friends, and her chest rose and fell on a breath. “All right. If she chooses to hug you, hugging her back is permissible.”

“I also pat backs and heads and brush tears from cheeks,” he went on. “If someone gets hurt, I might hold him or her on my lap.”

“Oh, all right!” Audrey snapped. “Of course you should treat her the same as the rest of the children.” Her eyes flashed as she squinted. “Just don’t ever forget whose child she is.”

He grinned. “She’s the spitting image of you with that curly red hair and those gray eyes. I doubt it’ll be possible for me to ever forget whose child she is.”

The hatred didn’t go away completely, but for an instant the intensity lessened—the best he could expect at this first encounter, he supposed. It wasn’t much, but it reaffirmed his hope that the forgiveness he sought might be waiting somewhere out there in the future.

After eleven years, he’d gotten good at the waiting part.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He checked his watch to be sure time had actually passed, that the world hadn’t really stopped the way it seemed to when he’d turned to find Audrey standing almost within arm’s reach. “Recess is over.”

Time for the real work to start.

He walked away without saying goodbye...just like he did the last time.

CHAPTER TWO

AUDREY SLOWED THE car and peered closely at the Dublin home as she passed. For the last eleven years, she’d averted her eyes anytime she drove by, trying to pretend the family who lived there no longer existed. It was a silly mind game, but she did it as a kind of homage to Win, aka her sister, Calinda—Callie to everyone else. If Win was no longer allowed to exist in her world, it seemed only fair the boy who caused her death shouldn’t have a place in it, either.

But he’d appeared back in her world today—in a prominent place in her daughter’s life—and the unfairness of it all made Audrey’s eyes blur with tears. Tess would never have the opportunity to share even a single memory with her Aunt Callie, yet memories of Mark Dublin would be permanent.

He wasn’t the same Mark she remembered, though. Not physically. Oh, the deep-set green eyes with the long dark lashes women would kill for were the same. But the golden highlights in his light brown hair were more prevalent, and the tan he always sported was darker. Permanent. Had he actually grown a couple of inches? He seemed taller, and she’d noticed the corded muscles in his arms with not an ounce of fat. His legs had always been hard and sinewy; the rest of his body had caught up.

Audrey chastised herself for lingering on those thoughts too long and forced her focus onto the house she was inching past.

The white cottage, with its hunter green door and shutters, looked as neat and tidy as ever with the lawn mowed and the boxwood hedge trimmed to perfection. Deloris’s foundation plantings of Annabelle hydrangeas were in full-bloom, as were the climbing roses that covered the trellis outside what used to be Mark’s bedroom.

Was he living there? Audrey’s chest tightened at the thought and then squeezed hard as the answer to the question came into view when she made the turn onto Beecher Road. A bicycle leaned against Pete’s oversized garage at the back of the property. Fully equipped with all the bells and whistles necessary for the serious enthusiast, it wasn’t something she could picture either Deloris or Pete riding and unfortunately brought a head full—and a heart full—of memories to the surface, along with the sickening realization that Mark was once again her nearest neighbor.

She stepped on the gas and sped past the ancient weeping willow at the edge of the pond. No way was she going to let memories of that favorite childhood hideaway steal into her thoughts.

Not today, and not ever if she could help it.

Fifty yards down the road, she turned into the familiar driveway leading back to the green, two-story frame house she would always call home.

As she came through the door, Faith met her with a smile, which immediately shifted into a look of concern. “That didn’t take long. You okay?”

Audrey looked past her toward the kitchen. “Where’s Mom?”

“Out back.” Faith’s thumb pointed over her shoulder. “We’ve been watching the robins in the birdbath. I just came in to fix her another tea.” She held up an empty cup. “Want some?”

Audrey tossed her bag onto the recliner. “Not unless you’re lacing it with Wild Turkey.”

“Sorry.” The preacher’s wife grinned and gave a shrug. “Earl Grey straight up, I’m afraid. But tell me what has you needing bourbon at nine thirty in the morning?”

The scarf around her neck added an additional weight on her shoulders she didn’t need. Audrey jerked it off and threw it on top of her bag. “Mark Dublin is Tess’s teacher.”

“Well...yeah.”

Faith’s head tilted in question, as if what Audrey was implying wasn’t obvious, so she spelled it out. “Nobody bothered to tell me he was back.” Her hands flew up in a gesture of annoyance and landed on her hips.

“We, ah, everybody figured the less said the better. If we didn’t make a big deal out of Mark’s being back, we hoped you could forgive and move on...” Faith’s voice trailed off.

Audrey was incredulous. “Forgive and move on.”

“Yeah. I mean, everybody remembers how the two of you were inseparable from the time you were...what? Five?” Faith held up a finger. “Hold on. I want to check on Helen.” She moved to the kitchen window and peeked out. “She’s fine, still watching the birds. Anyway, we hoped you could be friends again. You haven’t had any contact?”

“No contact. Not for eleven years.” The emotion of the morning finally caught up with her, and Audrey slumped into the nearest chair. “I’m sorry, Faith. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You’ve been so kind about helping with Mom.”

Faith gave a dismissive wave.

“But, seeing Mark this morning was such a shock to my system. I never dreamed... Until this morning, we hadn’t spoken since the day of the funeral.” She took a deep breath, but the air seemed weighted with sorrow and it filtered through her system. “How could people think I would do that? Have they completely forgotten about my sister? About what happened?”

Faith pulled a chair up next to her and took her hand. “Nobody’s forgotten Callie. Her death shook our town to its core.” She leaned down slightly and caught Audrey’s eyes, held them with her own. “But it was an accident. Accidents happen. Nobody’s going to think any less of you if you and Mark make your peace now. Fact is, everybody’s been kind of relieved, thinking you might be...” She paused. “Friends again.”

Audrey blew out a frustrated breath. “Welcome back to Taylor’s Grove, where everybody knows your business—sometimes before you even know it yourself.”

Faith winked and gave her a small smile. “Only sometimes.”

“But they don’t know what’s in here, Faith.” She pointed to her head and shook it, trying to rid it of the images that had been popping up ever since Marta had said Mark’s name. “I keep hearing him dare her to go up those steps. Me begging her not to.”

Faith squeezed her hand. “I know it was horrible. But no matter how many times you relive it, you’re never going to change the outcome. So every time you relive it, you’ve wasted precious time in your life. Time you could’ve spent remembering the good times, like she would want you to.”

“At some level, I know you’re right.” Audrey pressed a thumb and middle finger into the area over her eyebrows and pushed to release the tension. It didn’t help. “But I have a child now. She’s my whole life. And I’m expected to entrust her care to the person whose thoughtless words sent my sister up those steps?”

“Callie took the dare, Audrey. She made the choice.”

Audrey’s teeth clenched so hard, a pain shot through her jaw. “But if Mark hadn’t dared her, there wouldn’t have been a choice to make.”

Faith looked at her a long time before she spoke. “From the day we’re born, our lives are filled with the choices we make. We act on those choices, and all of our actions have consequences, either good or bad.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “If one solitary mistake is going to be the criteria we’re judged on for our entire life, most of us would be afraid to do anything. And not doing anything can do just as much harm.”

Was Faith saying she should’ve done more to stop Win that night? That weight of guilt had lain in the pit of her stomach for so long it probably had moss covering it.

“You’re back at home now with a child and a mother to watch over,” Faith went on. “You’ve got a lot on your plate. Don’t make the pressure worse by dragging around the worries of the past. Like the book of Matthew says, ‘Today’s trouble is enough for today,’ sweetheart.” She gave Audrey’s hand a motherly squeeze before letting go.

Audrey couldn’t deny she was feeling pretty overwhelmed, and sitting here talking was not taking care of any of the multitude of things she had on today’s list. She stood and picked up her mom’s cup, which still sat empty on the table. “I’ll try to keep that in mind. Thanks.”

Faith looked at her watch. “I need to be going, but I can come back this afternoon if you need me.”

Audrey shook her head. “I appreciate it, but Miss Gertie told me I could use the adult day-care program at the nursing home when I need to—until Mom gets to be too much for them to handle.”

The shadow in Faith’s eyes said she didn’t expect that wait to be too long, but she covered it quickly with a smile. “You know my number. Call me anytime. Day or night.”

“Thanks, I will.”

“I’ll go out this way and tell Helen ’bye.” Faith let herself out the back door while Audrey filled her mom’s cup with tea from the pot sitting on the counter and stirred in two sugar cubes and a spoonful of milk.

As she came down the back steps, she saw the vacant look in her mom’s eyes change to a questioning one.

“Hey, Mom. It’s Audrey. I’m back from taking Tess to school.”

Recognition dawned slowly as her mom took the cup and sipped from it. The doctor had given specific instructions not to rush her with too much information too quickly—give her mind time to process one thing at a time.

“The little girl’s at school.” It was a statement instead of a question, which Audrey took as a good sign.

“Yes. Tess is at school.” She really needed to unpack Tess’s things and get the child’s bedroom set up. Making this place home to her daughter as quickly as possible was a top priority. But she could spare a few minutes to sit and enjoy the quiet time with her mom.

“Does she like her class?” A bright red cardinal landed in the birdbath, capturing her mom’s attention, and Audrey thought it might be a good time to ease into the subject of Tess’s unfortunate nonchoice of teachers.

“Yes. I think she does. She’s in Mark Dublin’s class.”

Her mom’s face broke into a smile, though her eyes remained on the bird. “I’m glad they’re in the same class.”

Audrey’s heart sank. Her mom had a hard time remembering who Tess was. She even called her Audrey most of the time. “Mark is the teacher,” Audrey said gently.

Her mom nodded. “He taught her to ride a bike. They’re such good friends.”

Audrey wished she’d fixed herself some tea. Maybe the warmth would loosen the lump that appeared in her throat. “Yes, they...were,” she whispered.

But everything’s changed now.

* * *

THROUGH HIS CLASSROOM WINDOW, Mark watched the parents gather on the sidewalk in front of the school to pick up their children. He tried to tell himself he wasn’t watching for Audrey in particular, but his heart betrayed him by doing a quick double beat when she appeared, and he had to think back to what had been on his tongue before his thoughts had been spirited away.

What was it? Oh, yeah. “Next week, we’ll begin our unit on animals, and we’re going to cover this wall with pictures of all kinds of them.” He walked over to the azure-blue wall next to the door and patted it. “If you’d like to, you can bring a picture of your own pet or a pet you’d like to have.” He had quite a collection of animal pictures he’d taken in Africa, and he couldn’t wait to see the children’s faces when they got their first look at some of the wild beasts he’d encountered.

An excited titter went through the group as they all started talking at once. All except Tess. She’d been talkative all day—not the least bit shy—but suddenly it appeared the cat had her tongue.

Before he could make his way to her, the bell rang and the kids converged on him like a swarm of bees, each wanting to give the first hug goodbye. As he opened the door into the hallway, Tess got up slowly from her seat and stood at the end of the hug line. He exchanged squeezes with them, telling each child, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” But when he got to Tess, she latched on to his neck and started sobbing.

“Hey.” His heart wobbled at her emotion. Had he done something to upset her? “What’s the matter?”

The child’s sobs became wails, and she clutched him tighter.

“Can you tell me why you’re crying?” She shook her head, and he stooped down, positioning himself at her eye level. When she let go, he’d be right there. “I’ll bet you can if you try.” Dampness soaked into his shirt, and if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d just wiped her nose on his shoulder. “Usually we find out things aren’t so bad if we talk about them.”

“What’s going on? What did you say to her?” Audrey appeared beside him, her tone sharp with accusation.

“I’m not sure what upset her.” He tried to stand, but the little girl’s grip held tighter as her mom tried to pry her away. Afraid of losing his balance, he sat down in the floor.

Audrey shot an angry glare his way before kneeling down beside Tess. She patted her daughter’s back. “What’s wrong, punkin? Why are you crying?”

“I want my kitty,” the child blubbered. “I miss Bobcat.”

It was Mark’s turn to send accusing glances. “She has a bobcat for a pet?”

“No, her stepmom has a tomcat named Bob, so they all call him Bobcat.” Audrey’s eyes misted over, too, and Mark shot her a not-you-too look. “He lives with Tess’s father’s family in Florida,” she said.

Tess finally loosened her death grip and tilted her tearstained face up to look in his eyes. “But I wanted to bring him here with me.”

“We couldn’t.” Audrey kept her voice as gentle as the touch she used to guide Tess into her own arms. “He’s lived with his family for a long time, and he would miss all of them a lot.”

“But... I miss...him.” Tess sniffed, her voice catching on her stuttered breaths.

“I know you do.” Audrey kissed her daughter’s forehead.

Mark’s insides twisted as the hidden memories of that touch fought to break free. He shifted his attention back to Tess. “So it upset you when I said you could bring a picture of your pet to put on the wall? It made you miss Bobcat?”

Tess’s bottom lip jutted out and she nodded.

He smiled and wiggled her nose with the tip of his finger. “Well, having a picture of him with you might help you not miss him so much. Or—” he added some excitement to his voice “—remember I also said you could bring a picture of a pet you’d like to have. Anything you want. A cat or a dog or a seal or a zebra.”

Tess’s eyes widened. “Or a dolphin?”

He nodded and gave an exaggerated shrug. “Or a dinosaur! Any animal you want. Think you can find one?”

She nodded and reached for Audrey’s hand.

“You don’t need to bring it until next week, so you have plenty of time to look and decide on one. Okay?” She nodded again. “Okay then. See you tomorrow.” He allowed his eyes to travel from the child to the mom with the same message.

Tess let go, then ran back to her desk and started rummaging through it.

Mark took the moment to ask the question that had been on his mind since that morning. “Could we, ah... Could we talk sometime? In private?” He scanned Audrey’s face, watching for the true reaction that would come right before she settled the mask of hatred in place.

“You can talk to me anytime.” There it was! Just a brief glimpse of wistfulness, but enough that his heart surged with a hope—right before the guilt tamped it down. “As long as it has to do with Tess,” she added pointedly.

Tess ran back to them and thrust a piece of paper toward his face. “I made this for you.”

The shape of a heart drawn with a child’s unsteady hand, colored with a hurried scribble of bright red.

“Thank you, Tess.” He patted the child’s mass of red curls and from the corner of his eye caught the tight look of displeasure on Audrey’s face. Whether it was Tess’s ready affection for him or his pat on her head that caused it, he wasn’t sure. Probably both. “I’ll hang it on my wall.” He pointed to the space behind his desk that proudly sported all sorts of drawings the other children had made for him.

Audrey turned toward the door and was leading her away. The child turned back to wave. “See you tomorrow.”

He waved and nodded.

This was going to take a very long time. But today was the start. With nine more months of school, he had approximately one hundred and eighty more days to win back Audrey’s friendship and the forgiveness he desperately longed for.

CHAPTER THREE

Labor Day

“I STILL CAN’T get over how much Tess looks like you, Audrey. Every time I see her, I’m back in grade school again.” Bree Barlow shifted the toddler in her arms to her other hip. “She getting along okay? She seems to have adjusted well to the move.”

Audrey craned her neck to check on her daughter’s whereabouts, finding her at the picnic table with a group of children whose faces were shiny and wet—and no doubt sticky—with watermelon. “Yeah, she’s doing great. And I can’t deny she’s a mini-me although I see a lot of her dad’s personality in her.” She reached out and stroked a finger down the tiny face resting on Bree’s shoulder. “Isaiah’s precious, too, and what a big boy!”

Bree nuzzled her nose into his hair and kissed the top of his head. “He’s a handful—literally. I may have to grow another set of arms when the other one gets here.” She patted the bump on her tummy.

“Two children under the age of two.” Audrey shook her head in mock sympathy. “What were you thinking?”

Her friend laughed and leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. “Thinking had no part in it.”

Audrey laughed, too, and fanned her face, which flushed at the innuendo and the heat of the late-afternoon sun. It was nice to have time with Bree again. Although a couple of years older, she’d taken Audrey under her wing when they’d been cheerleaders together in high school. And she’d been a godsend when Win died. Having lost her dad two years earlier, she knew exactly the right things to say.

But today wasn’t the time to dwell on sad events. Days like this, full of celebration and mingling with old friends at the park in the center of town, confirmed to Audrey that she’d made the right decision moving back. The resort where they’d lived in Florida had been a small community, but it wasn’t the same as being home. Everyone there had relocated from somewhere else—an eclectic blend of accents from around the world, which was great. But people from Taylor’s Grove sounded mostly alike—Southern drawls with a heaping side of western Kentucky twang for flavor. Today, it tasted especially delicious.

She checked to make sure her mom was still doing okay and spotted her sitting on the bench under the gazebo, surrounded by women whose faces were probably familiar though most of the names forgotten. They’d all been so wonderful the past couple of weeks, volunteering to keep an eye on her mom while Audrey moved in and got things set up. She’d even been able to get a little work done—but not much.

When she’d started keeping the books for the RV resort owned by her then-husband Alex’s family, she hadn’t meant for it to become a vocation, but picking up a few other businesses as clients had turned it into a part-time job. Since everything was done on the computer anyway, all her clients had chosen to stay with her when she told them about the move to Kentucky. The business-from-home setup was working out perfectly so far, even if much of it was done during late-night hours when Mom and Tess were asleep.

“I think I’m ready for some ribs.” Bree sniffed the air. “You hungry yet?”

Audrey nodded, suddenly aware of the smoky flavor that was making her mouth water. “I’m always ready for barbecued ribs.”

The rib competition had grown to fourteen competitors this year, with barbecue grills set up along the outside edge of the park, all in a row, and each one manned by someone who boasted that his were the best.

Tank Wallis had won the competition for the past seven years with his secret recipe of dry rub that made you want to lick your fingers, yet burned your tongue when you did. But that he claimed domination didn’t stop the others from trying. Word was Bree’s father-in-law, Cyrus Barlow, might just topple the crown from Tank’s head this year.

“Are you hungry, Mom?” Audrey made a stop on the way to the grills.

Her mom tilted her head in question. “Must I order now?”

“Only if you’re hungry.”

“I’ll have spaghetti with two meatballs then, please.” Her mom folded her hands demurely into her lap.

“I think we may be all out of spaghetti and meatballs today, Helen.” Patti Stroud, owner of the Grove Diner, spoke up. “We’ve got some really good ribs and potato salad, though. How does that sound?”

“I’ll have two racks of ribs, a pint of potato salad and a pint of slaw. To go, please.” Her mom’s hand rested at the base of her throat. “My family has such big eaters.”

Audrey met the surrounding sad looks with a shrug. Nobody had said this would be easy.

Patti stood up and laid a hand on Audrey’s arm. “You go eat. I’ll fix her a plate.” She turned Audrey around and gave her a gentle push. “Go on. Helen’s fine with us. She’s enjoying herself.”

Her mom did seem okay today. Audrey had been afraid the crowd would be too much for her, but the familiar setting seemed to have the opposite effect. It was like she associated this place with good memories.

Audrey caught up with Bree at Cyrus’s grill. Her friend’s father-in-law had stepped to the side and was holding his grandson, who patted his cheeks with pudgy hands, while Ollie Perkins doled out ribs in pairs. “Whooee, Audrey.” Ollie made a smacking sound as he held out the tongs full of juicy meat. “These are gonna be the finest ribs you ever put in your mouth.”

“Can’t wait to try them.” Her stomach growled in anticipation.

Tank, whose grill was set up right next to Cyrus’s, motioned toward his own pile of racks. “And when you decide you got to get the taste of those off your tongue, you come right back over here, and I’ll give you a sample of how real ribs should taste.”

“Dry rub can’t hold a candle to ribs dripping with sticky honey hickory sauce.” Cyrus made a raspberry sound against Isaiah’s palm, eliciting a delighted squeal that bubbled out of the little boy and could be heard by everyone within hearing range.

Bree gave her father-in-law a peck on the cheek. “Can you watch him while I eat?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Cyrus pumped Isaiah into the air. “Who’s your favorite?” He brought the child down to touch noses. “Pawpaw!”

He repeated the action several times as Bree and Audrey finished filling their plates from the table of side dishes provided by the women of the town.

Bree giggled as she and Audrey found a spot at the picnic table nearby. “We refer to my stepdad as Grandpa, and Cyrus is terrified Isaiah will say Grandpa or, heaven forbid, Ollie, before he says Pawpaw.”

The easy way Bree referred to what Audrey considered major changes in their tiny village—namely Bree’s mother’s, Stella’s, marriage last year to a man in Paducah and her subsequent move there, and, even more shocking, Cyrus and Ollie’s gay partnership—served as a constant reminder time was moving on and Taylor’s Grove was evolving with it.

She was only three bites into Cyrus’s every-bit-as-fabulous-as-he-boasted ribs, when Bree’s squeal caught her attention.

“Kale!”

The love in the sound of that word coming off Bree’s tongue warmed Audrey’s heart. She looked up to find Bree’s husband coming toward them with a brilliant smile.

Mark Dublin was at his side, and, totally out-of-the-blue, another flash of heat zinged in her heart with unexpected force.

She snuffed it out as quickly as it hit.

“My favorite!” Kale made like he was going to grab one of the ribs from Bree’s plate, but instead he swooped in to plant a full kiss on her lips, which were greasy from the meat and the sauce. He made a point of smearing the sauce all around her mouth with his lips, and Bree didn’t seem to mind in the least. “Mmm-mmm!” he said as he straightened. “I’ve been craving that taste for hours.”

Audrey suddenly fully understood Bree’s comment about thinking not having a part in her pregnancy. Kale Barlow was most definitely hot, and his hotness level was multiplied by his unapologetic adoration of his wife.

Audrey’s heart stilled as she remembered there was a time her and Mark’s love could’ve rivaled these two.

“Hey, Bree.” Mark grinned at his friend’s high jinks, then added a nod her way. “Audrey.”

Her heart started beating again—much too fast. She threw out a quick “Hi y’all,” and dove back into her ribs.

“Da, Da, Da.”

Cyrus came over to them, reluctantly relinquishing possession of Isaiah, whose arms stretched out toward his daddy.

“Hey, squirt!” Kale took his son, snuggling him in his arms and planting noisy slurberts on the exposed part of his belly.

“How was fishing?” Bree asked, but Kale and Isaiah were making too much noise for him to hear.

“Not bad.” Mark sat down, straddling the bench directly across from Audrey.

The bite of slaw she’d just taken burned her throat—probably the vinegar dressing—and she took a drink of her sweet tea to soothe it. Glancing around, she picked up on a few of the elbow nudges and knowing grins directed their way.

Despite the fact she’d made it abundantly clear she and Mark were not an item and were hardly even friends to everyone she’d encountered since she’d returned, Taylor’s Grove seemed determined to match them up.

“I caught two nice bass and a couple of bream.” Mark held out his hands to indicate the length of the fish. “Kale caught four. All bass. All pretty nice.”

“Sounds like enough for a fish fry to me. Which, of course, translates as a fish grill if we have it at our place.”

“You insist on grilled fish, yet you’re eating barbecued ribs with both hands,” Mark pointed out.

“Fish is a staple when you own a marina.” Bree licked her fingertips noisily. “Ribs are a once-a-year indulgence.”

Audrey had been quietly getting down as much food as she could while the conversation was going on, and she took advantage of the lull to excuse herself. “Hey.” She touched Bree’s arm, studiously ignoring Mark. “It’s been fun, but I’m sure Mom’s tired. I need to get her home.”

“Call me and we’ll run down to the marina one day soon. You still haven’t been there.”

“I will,” Audrey promised. “I’m anxious to see what you’ve done.” She didn’t add she was anxious to find out if there was any truth to the latest rumor she’d heard today—that Kale and his dad had approached Sol Beecher about buying the marina at the edge of town.

A couple of years back, the Barlow men had bought a marina on Jonathan Creek, about ten miles away. They’d since added moorings and covered docks, and a campground was in the five-year plan. That kind of new business for Taylor’s Grove could sure be a boon.

She gave Bree a quick hug and managed a nod to Mark, who nodded back with a tight-lipped smile, then made her way toward the gazebo, going around the long way so she didn’t have to get into a discussion with Tank about Cyrus’s ribs, which had, as promised, been the best she’d ever eaten.

“Mom? Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, dear. I am.” A plate of food sat on her lap. It looked untouched.

“I think she forgot it was there,” Patti whispered as she slipped the plate and all into an oversized plastic food bag. “She can eat it later if she gets hungry.”

“Thanks, Patti.” Audrey took the bag in one hand and her mom’s arm with the other. “We’ll see y’all.”

She looked for Tess, but the child wasn’t at the table where she’d been eating watermelon a little bit ago. Audrey scanned the crowd, not in the least panicked like she would’ve been in Florida. Taylor’s Grove had zero crime, which made it one of the most idyllic places in the world to raise children.

Oh, crap! Tess and her friend Bailey had found Mark and were talking his ear off.

“Let’s go, punkin,” she called as she approached them. “Grandma’s tired, and we need to get her home.”

Bailey’s eyes went wide. “You can’t go home yet. We haven’t done the greased pig contest. Please don’t go.”

Tess’s eyes turned pleading. “Can we stay, Mama? Please? I don’t want to miss the greased pig contest.”

Although Bailey brought it up, Audrey knew she had no one but herself to blame. For years, she’d told Tess hilarious stories about kids trying to catch the greased pigs—standard entertainment fare at Taylor’s Grove picnics.

“I want to go home.” Audrey’s mom’s voice had an agitated edge. “Take me home. I want to go home, now. Take me home.”

“Please, Mama? Can we stay?” Tess whined.

“Home! Take me home!” Her mom jerked on her arm, and Audrey felt herself coming apart, pulled in two directions.

“I’ll bring Tess home.” Mark was suddenly beside her. He kept his voice low, in case she wanted to turn him down.

“Thanks, but no. I don’t want to put you ou—” Her mom broke away and started back to the gazebo.

“It won’t put me out. We’re neighbors.” A lump lodged in her throat at the kindness in his words.

She turned around to check on her mom, thankful that some of the ladies had stopped her and were calming her in hushed tones.

“Please, can I stay, Mama?” Tess bounced up and down in her eagerness.

The whole town was holding its breath, waiting for her answer.

Or maybe it was only Mark.

Either way, she so didn’t want to be the center of attention.

She looked around and found Bree headed back to the table, too busy with Isaiah to be cognizant of the drama brewing around her.

Audrey caught up with her. “Hey, Mom’s ready to leave, but Tess wants to stay for the kids’ activities. Could y’all bring her home when you leave?”

“Of course. No problem.” Bree grinned and nodded at Tess, who’d followed her mom.

Audrey was rewarded with a hug to her leg and then Tess bounded off, perhaps before she could change her mind. “You sure you don’t mind?” She kept her eyes on Bree and away from Mark.

“Not at all.” Bree waved her away as she started toward the table again. “Go take care of Helen.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Turning back toward her mom, Audrey couldn’t continue to ignore Mark’s looming presence. She glanced up at him. “Bree’s taking care of it. Thanks anyway.”

The look shadowing his face spurred her away, barbecued ribs and his alienation congealing in a heavy mass in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

“ISAIAH THREW UP on Bree and Kale both.” Mark answered the question on Audrey’s distressed face as she held open her front door.

She recovered quickly, her face twisting into a look of feigned horror as she took in her daughter’s appearance. “Did they decide to grease you in place of one of the pigs?”

Mark wasn’t sure he was being invited in, but he wasn’t going to lose the opportunity. He grabbed the door and followed the child’s giggle inside.

“I had one, and I tried to hold on real tight.” Tess made a circle with her arms, pantomiming the tale. “But he squirted out like toothpaste does when I smush it, and then he ran ’round and ’round and ’round.” She scrambled around the two adults in a tight circle.

Audrey watched Tess, shooting him a look during the third orbit that asked where he’d picked up this alien life form.

He gave a sheepish shrug. “Too much sugar, probably. I let her have a snow cone with extra syrup.”

“Two!” Tess said, correcting him, still making laps around them.

Audrey scrubbed her hand down her tired face, squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head. She grabbed her daughter on the next pass and brought the pig chase to a stop. “Hey. You know the rules. Tomorrow’s a school day. Shower, teeth, then bed. Lights out at eight. No exceptions.”

“I’m not sleepy.” Tess gave a petulant thrust to her bottom lip—exactly the way Audrey used to do when she was peeved. The expression twanged a poignant chord across Mark’s heartstrings.

“No exceptions,” Audrey vowed. “Now tell Mr. Dublin thank you for bringing you home and good night.”

He noted the slight emphasis she placed on the last word but chose to ignore it.

Tess shot him a look of reluctant surrender. “Thank you for bringing me home. Good night.”

“Good night, Tess.” His wink flattened her protruded bottom lip into a slight smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” Audrey’s words dripped with dismissal. “Good night.”

He made no move toward the door. “I thought I might stay a while if you’re not too busy.” He saw the protest on her lips and added, “To talk about how things are going.”

Her eyes cut to her daughter and back before she drew a deep, resigned breath. “All right. Let me get her tucked in. Please have a seat.”

He did as she instructed, but the formality in her tone made him want to throw something. It wasn’t like he was a first-time visitor. He’d practically lived in this house, spending more hours here some days than he did in his own home.

He scanned the dining area of the kitchen—the part he could see. Countless meals he’d shared at the Paschals’ table—even had his own designated seat. The piano still sat where he’d last heard Helen playing the Chopin she so dearly loved. The couch he sat on was different from the maroon-and-green plaid of their teenage years, and the recliner where Audrey’s dad had snored in front of the television had been replaced. That observation brought on a pang of regret he hadn’t been home for Owen’s funeral. The guy had been like a second father to him... Would surely have been his father-in-law but for the events of that tragic night eleven years ago.

The night that threw his life on a totally different trajectory from what he’d always imagined it would be.

And yet...here he was.

He forced himself to turn and look at the arrangement of pictures on the sofa table in front of the window, ready to confront Callie’s memory. But not ready to confront what was there. Not the one picture of Callie he remembered—her junior year school picture, her last one. Instead, the table was filled with photos of her, all the other family photos replaced by Callie from birth to her last days.

The sight punched him in the gut so hard, he felt bile rise in his throat. Burning guilt left a trail as he swallowed and it singed his soul, exposing the tender, raw wound that never completely healed.

His heart flew into a beat that pumped blood into his legs and encouraged him to run from this place and never return.

But he had returned—to this town, this house—for precisely this reason. He’d run from his demons for far too long. Tonight he would face them, and every day from here on.

He stood and walked to the shrine on legs that were stiff and heavy. His fingers clenched, drawing tighter into fists with every step. By the time he stood by the table, they refused him the right to touch even the frames. But he forced his eyes to linger on each picture, met her gaze in every one and spoke his heart. “I’m sorry, Callie. Sorry for the part I played in your death. You were a good friend. I loved you, and I miss you every day. I know I can’t take back the words, can’t bring you back.” Tears stung his eyes, and he stopped. His vision had to be clear for this. “And yet, you’ll always be here.” He touched his heart with the end of his fist. “I’ve dedicated my life to keeping children safe. You didn’t get to be the teacher you dreamed of being, but I became one in your stead. I strive to personify the love you would’ve given them. I ask your forgiveness. And I hope someday, I’ll have earned it.”

He waited, half expecting her to answer him.

A sound drew him around.

Audrey paused on the top step, her hand gripping the banister, frozen to the spot.

Had she heard?

He couldn’t tell. The tension in her face never seemed to leave, making it hard to read now when it had never been difficult before.

He watched her neck muscles ripple as she swallowed and came to life again and finished her descent. “I should’ve offered you something to drink.”

“Beer’s fine if you’ve got one.”

She nodded and disappeared around the door of the kitchen.

He started to follow, thinking perhaps they could sit at the table like old times, or on the swing in the backyard. He heard the refrigerator and then the freezer open and close and his better judgment advised him to settle down back onto the unfamiliar couch, which he did.

Audrey returned with two frosted mugs. She handed him one and moved toward the recliner across the room, but then changed her mind and chose the occasional chair closer to him, causing his heart to skip a beat. “Tess is still awake, so we should keep our voices low,” she explained. “How’s she doing? Is there a problem?”

“No, no problems. She caught up quickly and has made friends. She talks about her dad and his family and Florida, but she seems to be handling the move well. The episode about Bobcat is the only time I’ve seen her upset.” He stopped, waiting for a response.

She didn’t say anything, and they looked at each other for the better part of thirty awkward seconds. Finally, she nodded. “Okay. Well thank you for the report. Now, if we’re finished...” She stood.

“We’re not finished.” He took a gulp from the cold mug.

“I have work—” She pointed to the door where her dad’s office had been.

“We have to talk, and I’m ready to get it over with. You might as well sit down and be comfortable.”

Her chin rose defiantly. “If you want to talk about Win’s death, I’m not ready to talk with you about it.”

“That’s too bad because I am.” He stood. “But if you want to do it standing up, I’ll make a concession.”

Her eyes tightened around the edges, and she pursed her lips in a look he remembered: displeasure. Finally she blew out an exasperated breath. “Bring your beer.” She led him to the front porch. “If this gets—” She paused. “I don’t want Tess to overhear.” She took a gulp that drained her glass halfway and then sat on the top step.

“The last time we talked about that night, you did all the talking.” He sat, using a pillar as a backrest so he could face her comfortably. “It’s time I had my say.”

“Look, Mark. I know you’re sorry. We’re all sorry. You’re sorry you dared her to go upstairs. I’m sorry I didn’t do more to stop her.” She swiped the air with her mug, causing some of the brew to slosh onto her hand, which she wiped on her shorts. “Being sorry doesn’t change a damn thing.”

“Yes, it does. If I wasn’t sorry, you’d have every right to never forgive me.” He watched her mouth open like she was going to say something, but she closed it without making a sound. “But I’m not asking for your forgiveness, Audrey. Not again...at least, not right now. I’m asking for your friendship. I miss you.” He was thankful they’d moved outside to the darkness. Under the lamplight inside, she surely would’ve been able to pick up on the heavy thudding of his heart under the thin material of his T-shirt, or see the skin on his wrists rippling with strong pulse beats.

“You ask too much.” She ran her hand through the top of her hair, loosening the silky strands, which fell softly back into place. “We can’t be friends.”

“Yes, we can.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, gripping his beer with both hands. “We can be whatever you allow us to be. Don’t you see? We didn’t just lose Callie that night. We lost us, too... And I’m talking about the friends us, not the lovers us. I understand that’s probably gone forever, but I don’t understand why we have to go through the rest of our lives grieving for a loss that doesn’t have to be a loss.”

She shivered and crossed her arms even though the temperature had to be in the high 80s. “I can’t forget.”

“Me, neither, but I’m not asking you to forget. I’m asking you to remember. Remember the two kids who were best friends from the age of four. Who played together every recess. Who rode their bikes together every day after school. Who spent every day of summer vacation together from morning until dark. Those years weren’t wasted, Audrey. They have to count for something.”

Moonlight glinted on the tears in her eyes, so he’d touched a nerve. He pressed on in hope. “If I learned anything during those years in Africa, it was that you can do whatever you put your mind to, but first you have to be brave enough to face it. I’ve witnessed the indomitable human spirit firsthand in Ebola victims. I’ve seen children dying of starvation from years of famine. The brave ones don’t give in without a fight. They fight to hang on because they see good in the world. Friendship is good, Audrey. People need each other. It’s what keeps us going...makes life worth living.” Her face turned away from him, eyes staring out into the front yard at nothing in particular, but an ear was toward him, and he would continue talking as long as he had her ear. “We could be friends again, starting tonight. We could talk to each other in a civil manner and exchange genuine smiles and maybe even occasionally laugh at some inside joke that comes back to us from years ago. We may not be what we used to be, but let’s at least be part of that good in the world.”

He knew it was a mistake, but he couldn’t stop himself from moving closer to her. He scooted his bottom across the concrete until he was only an arm’s length away—close enough to touch if she should be so inclined.

She wasn’t, but she chewed her bottom lip, which meant she was at least thinking about what he’d said. When she shook her head at last, his heart stalled. “I don’t know, Mark. I can’t guarantee anything.” She stood and tilted her head toward the door. “But I wasn’t lying about needing to work. I have stuff I have to finish tonight.”

It wasn’t a no and his heart did a double beat to catch up. He stood and finished off the remainder of his beer before he handed her the mug. “You’ll think about what I said.”

He didn’t pose it as a question, but she nodded as if he had, her face somber in the moonlight. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I can ask.”

He smiled...but it wasn’t returned.

At least, not yet.

* * *

TREY COOPER SAT on the couch where he’d slept most of his twenty-seven years. He was waiting for sunrise, for that first slant of sunlight to break through the dirty blinds, through the rectangle where he’d broken the end off the fourth slat from the bottom. He snaked his tongue out, feeling the scar that cut through the right corner of his upper lip and edged out onto his cheek a couple of inches. That beating had been one of the worst ones because Daddy hadn’t been drunk enough to pass out for a long time.

He gave a shrug even though there was nobody to see it. For years he’d lain awake in the wee hours of the morning, watching for the sun to break through that rectangle and shine some light into his dingy existence.

Every new day brought with it a promise Willie would find his way back home. Would come back from wherever it was he’d run off to. Would come back and rescue his little brother from the beatings that came during the dark. But Willie never came.

And now Daddy had been dead almost two years, having drunk so much he choked to death on his own vomit in the bed at the end of the hall.

And Mama had died last week of the cancer that ate its way from her insides to her outside. Trey’s nostrils still picked up the stench of decaying flesh from the worn corduroy recliner, where she’d spent most of her hours these past two months, watching TV, smoking her hand-rolled cigarettes and yelling at him to change the channel.

Go on, Daddy’s voice whispered.

Trey put his hands over his ears, knowing it wouldn’t keep out Daddy’s voice.

Go on, damn you. You know you want to, so be a man for once. Do it.

Just a few more minutes. He was anxious to leave this hellhole and leave Daddy’s voice with it, but not until the time was perfect.

Restless, he stood and stretched and then remembered something he’d forgotten to do.

He walked down the narrow hall to the place where the piece of plywood covered the hole in the floor. It didn’t take much—only one hard stomp—to splinter the rotten wood and leave the gaping opening that would allow the snakes and vermin to take over the place. It seemed fitting to let them have it since the same sort of creatures who’d been his parents had held dominion over the place so long.

The action calmed him, and he was consciously able to unclench his fist.

He closed his eyes and ran his fingertips along the wall as he made his way back to the living room, holding his breath and counting slowly to one hundred.

His heart beat wildly as he made himself wait. Daddy’s belt wasn’t there to lash his back when he let out the air, but still he made himself hold it simply because he could. Because he was in control this time.

He opened his eyes, knowing instinctively it was time.

Sure enough, the rectangle glowed with the light of dawn—the time in the movies when prisoners were released or shot. No firing squad awaited him. He was alive and free and leaving Appalachia for the first time in his life.

He ran to the door, jerked it open and stepped onto the wobbly pile of concrete blocks serving as steps. A leap and three long strides took him to the beat-up pickup he’d bought with the money he’d hidden from Daddy over the years, five-dollar bills slipped undetected out of his paychecks from the Quick-n-Eezee convenience store. Daddy’s old fishing boat was hooked up and waiting. As long as he could fish, he wouldn’t starve. He gave the truck—his first honest-to-goodness possession—a loving pat before climbing in and starting the engine. He didn’t know how far she’d go, but wherever it was, that’s where he was headed.

He backed out onto the narrow gravel lane, flipping off the dilapidated trailer in a final salute.

A quarter mile down the road, a raccoon wandered out from a wooded area where sunlight had barely started to filter through the thick growth of trees. The creature, oblivious to the approaching vehicle, got almost to the middle of the road before instincts caused it to pause and stand on its hind legs to sniff the air.

Trey’s headlights caught the eyes, turning them to small orbs that glowed a sinister red.

Hit it.

“No, Daddy. It hasn’t done anything.”

It’s standing in your way, damn it. Hit it!

“I don’t want to.”

Do what I say, or you know what you’ll get.

Trey’s foot pushed harder on the accelerator, bearing down on the animal while it just stood and watched.

“I’ll get it anyway,” Trey whispered, swerving to the right at the last minute.

Gravel flew in all directions, pelting the truck’s windshield as Trey fought to bring the steering under control. The back tires slid into the grass, damp and slick with dew. Just when he thought the sharp drop-off would pitch him into a roll, the truck skidded to a stop.

You’re an ignorant fool. Nearly killed yourself over a raccoon. The stupid animal’s smarter than you are.

“Get out, Daddy.”

The laugh grew louder, and Trey beat his head against the steering wheel, trying to dislodge the voice from where it was housed.

I’m going with you, boy. Gonna stay with you ’til you prove you’re man enough to make it on your own. Now, go on. Do what you know you deserve.

Trey grabbed the leather belt that had been thrown from the passenger seat onto the floorboard. Doubling it in his hand, he reached across his shoulder to slash it across his back three times.

He didn’t make a sound the whole time—that would’ve meant an extra two. Throwing the belt back on the seat, he stomped on the accelerator, breaking the truck free from the mire holding it, and pulled back onto the road.

CHAPTER FOUR

“OKAY.” AUDREY GLANCED at the list of words in her hand and picked out the one she thought would be the most difficult. “Spell ball.”

“B-a-l...” Tess took a giant step as she said each letter, ending up in the middle of the road. Again. “L.”

“Stay on this side,” Audrey reminded her. The road leading to Beecher’s Marina wasn’t very busy this time of day in mid-September, but she didn’t want Tess getting in the habit of thinking there would never be traffic. In the summer, cars and trucks towing boats behind them sometimes made it look like a parade.

“Mother, may I?” Tess shot her a mischievous lopsided grin—a replica of the one that stayed on Alex Merrill’s face most of the time.

“Yes, you may. And remind me to call your dad when we get home.” Audrey tried not to let her irritation show, but Alex’s failure to get those invoices scanned and emailed to her was throwing her schedule off—something she couldn’t allow to happen if she was going to keep her sanity.

Tess did a bunny hop back to her side. “Ready for another word.”

“Um...how about red.”

“R-e-d. Look, Mama!” Tess jerked to a stop and pointed into the thicket of autumn olive bushes.

At first, Audrey couldn’t quite make out what they were looking at, as the dog’s brown fur camouflaged it against the brown earth, where no grass grew. But then her heart sank. A mother dog with three nursing puppies, no doubt dropped by some person with no heart.

Audrey grabbed Tess’s arm as the child headed into the shadows. “No, punkin.”

“But, Mama...”

The dog’s ears had risen to pointy peaks and she looked at them warily at first. But, at the sound of their voices, her demeanor shifted as if she sensed help might be available. Her ears dropped and she struggled onto her feet with the puppies holding firm to her teats, a look of hopeful pleading in her eyes. She wagged her tail to show she came in friendship as she started toward them, ribs protruding, legs wobbly, dropping babies as she came.

Audrey’s eyes blurred at the sight of the starving dog and the whining puppies.

“We hafta help her, Mama. She doesn’t look so good.”

Audrey stepped between Tess and the dog, facing the animal one mother to another. She leaned down and extended her hand for the adult dog to sniff, which she did, followed by a lick of approval. Audrey scratched behind her ears, and the dog leaned into her hand, closing her eyes in a look of ecstasy.

Two of the puppies grunted and even yelped at the sudden disappearance of Mama. The third moved slowly and was eerily quiet. Smaller by far, he was obviously the runt—the one pushed out during this critical time of growth. The one sure to die if he wasn’t allowed to nurse soon. But the mother didn’t look like she was going to make it much longer, either. In fact, she flopped down and rolled onto her side, looking too exhausted to move another inch.

Audrey lifted the babies, whose eyes and ears were just beginning to open, and placed them beside the mother dog. They immediately latched on to the proffered nipples but soon let go, moving in a frenzy from one to another, which indicated they were probably empty.

Audrey’s throat tightened to hold back the sob as she checked her watch. It was past four thirty, and she had to pick her mom up at five. There wasn’t time to go back to the house and get the car, pick up the dogs and take them to the house. If she called, Miss Gertie probably wouldn’t mind her mom staying a little while longer. Crap! What was she thinking? She couldn’t take on a mother dog and three puppies. Mom. Tess. Work. She had too much on her plate now.

“Hey.”

Audrey’s head jerked up at the voice and saw Mark headed toward them from the direction of Beecher’s. His bike rolled to a smooth stop beside them. “What’s going on?”

“A mommy dog and three puppies!” Tess pointed to the hungry mass.

“I see.” Mark shot Audrey a questioning look. “Think somebody dropped them?”

She nodded, her stomach turning at the thought. She’s starving, she mouthed.

He nodded that he understood. “She’s friendly.” Unclipping from the pedals, he got off and laid his bike in the grass.

“Yeah, she seems very sweet-natured.” Audrey’s voice broke on the last word.

Mark crouched beside the mother dog and held his hand to her nose. “Hey, mom dog. Those are some good-looking babies you have there.” The dog’s tail thumped at his gentle tone, and he ran a soothing hand across her head.

Tess had picked up the smallest one and cradled it in her arms. “This one’s littler. I don’t think he’s getting enough to eat.”

“I don’t think any of them are getting enough to eat.” Audrey looked at her watch again. “I thought about getting the car and coming back for them, but I don’t have time to do that and still pick Mom up at five.” She swiped a hand down her face. “And I really don’t need anything else to deal with right now, either.”

“But, Mama.” Tess’s tone was an exasperated whine. “We can’t leave them here. They’ll get runned over by cars.”

“Run over,” Audrey and Mark said at the same time.

“She’s right.” Mark shook his head. “We can’t just leave them here.” Out of the side of his mouth he whispered, “As weak as the mom’s getting, coyotes will probably do them all in tonight.”

Audrey shuddered and fought back the tears. “You could...” She waited to catch Mark’s eye. “You could take them home with you.”

“Whoa.” He stood and raised his hands palms out. “I work full-time away from home.”

Audrey’s heart took on a hopeful beat and she stood, locking her gaze with his. “I could help. Mom and I could walk down and check on them and feed them a couple of times during the day, if you could keep an eye on them at night.” She touched his arm, and his eyes widened. “They’re probably what? Two weeks old? So it would only be for about a month. Then we could find homes for them. Meanwhile, they could stay in your dad’s garage.”

Mark looked aghast. “I live in my dad’s garage. He made half of it into an apartment.”

What was she thinking? A project that would put her and Mark in even more contact? “Yeah, of course. Bad idea.” She looked at her watch again. Four forty. She’d have to leave soon.

“Please, Mr. Dublin,” Tess begged. “Mama and Grandma and I can help.”

“Tess, it’s not fair to put this responsibility on Mr. Dublin.” Especially if it means more time together.

Tess’s gray eyes filled like storm clouds. “But Mr. Dublin says animals are our ’sponsibilty.”

Poor Mark looked like he was facing the enemy army. “Yeah, I do say that.” He shut his eyes in a grimace, took a deep breath.

Audrey felt both gestures as if they were her own.

“Oh—” he exhaled in surrender “—all right.”

“Yay!” Tess hugged him around the waist.

Audrey repeated the word but with much less exuberance.

He laid a hand on Tess’s head, and she leaned back to smile up at him adoringly. He touched the end of his finger to her nose. “You’re so much like your mama, it’s scary.” She giggled and let him go, so he could get back on his bike. “I’ll be back in three minutes with my truck.”

Audrey mustered a smile for her daughter as Mark rode away. “This is going to be a lot of work, punkin.”

“Mr. Dublin says if we work together, it makes work easier.”

Her daughter was certainly full of Mr. Dublin’s sage advice this afternoon.

Audrey didn’t want to contradict, but nothing about the arrangement they’d made was going to be easy.

* * *

HE WAS A dead man.

When his mom and dad returned from visiting his brother in Seattle, his dad would surely kill him. Mark patted the mother dog’s head and she sighed contentedly. “Totally worth it, though,” he assured her and her tail thumped at the sound of his voice. She was such a sweet dog. It was hard to imagine how anyone could be cruel enough to drop her and her babies. But the vet he’d called said he’d seen it happen time and again—mostly to pregnant females.

She was an odd mixture with a lineage he couldn’t quite make out. The shape of her face and ears reminded him of the hyenas he used to hear at night in Kenya. And, while she was colored like a chocolate Lab, her body looked more like a beagle. The puppies were even harder to discern since they weren’t old enough yet to distinguish much about snout or shape of their ears. One was solid black, one was brown and white and the little one was black and white and looked like a border collie, with a stripe down his nose.

Mutts, one and all.

“I’m headed to get you some real food now. I’ll be back soon,” he promised.

All he’d had to feed her was a couple of leftover hamburger patties that were supposed to be his supper tonight, and she’d gobbled those down in seconds. It wasn’t enough. The vet couldn’t see them until Saturday, but he’d stressed she needed proper nourishment and so did the puppies.

And that meant Mark would have to make the drive to Benton for some shopping.

So much for the fifty-mile bike ride he’d been looking forward to all day.

Such was parenthood, he supposed.

A knock at the garage door brought him to his feet, and when he opened it, his heart leaped at the sight of Audrey and Tess, arms laden with grocery bags. “What’s this?”

“Supplies.” Audrey held her bags out to him. “Take these. There’s more.”

“And I’ve got puppy food.” Tess held up the bag in her arms.

“They’ll be needing that soon.” He set his armload on the workbench and took the bag from Tess. Glancing through the sacks, he saw they were full of canned dog food. “Y’all shouldn’t have done this,” he admonished gently as Audrey came through the door lugging a large, plush doggy bed with a gigantic bag of dry dog food nestled in it.

She plopped it on the floor with a grunt. “It’s the least we could do. You provide shelter and we’ll provide food.” She dusted her hands and glanced around, and he watched her swallow hard when her eyes landed on the Ping-Pong table, folded and pushed against the back wall.

He’d won his first real kiss from her after a strategic slam had returned the ball to her side of that table with enough velocity to bounce over her head and against the wall, where it had ricocheted off various objects and eventually rolled under the large freezer.

Her eyes shifted back to him and then awkwardly away. She shoved her hands into her back pockets and shrugged. “C’mon, punkin. We’ve got to go.”

“By the way, I called the vet and made an appointment for all of them Saturday. Just to get them checked out.”

Audrey’s eyes, instantly hooded in worry, darted from him to the dogs to Tess. “Do you think—”

“I think there’s nothing wrong food won’t cure.” Her face relaxed. “Can you stay a few minutes? I’ll show you my apartment.” He pointed to the door in the wall that cut the garage in half.

“Put the puppy down, Tess.” She shook her head. “We can’t stay now. Mom’s in the car, and she was starting to get antsy. I need to get her home and get her fed.”

“Oh, sure.” He’d witnessed Helen’s restless behavior at the Labor Day picnic.

“But she takes a sedative and goes to bed around seven.” Audrey had her daughter by the hand and was moving out the door. “Maybe we’ll walk down and check on the dogs then?”

She was coming back? Tonight? He tamped down the enthusiasm in his voice that would only scare her away. “Sure. Feel free to come anytime.”

“Oh, by the way,” Audrey called over her shoulder. “Didn’t know if you’d want one, but there’s a doggy door in one of those sacks. The receipt’s with it. Just take it back if you don’t want it.”

A doggy door. She’d thought of everything. He grinned and waved as the car backed out of his drive.

Rummaging through the bags, he also found a food dish and a water bowl. He emptied one of the cans into the bowl and put it down beside mom dog, and she gobbled it up in about three bites. He reached for another can, but thought better of it. He’d seen starvation before. Too much food too quickly would only be thrown back up until the stomach adjusted. “Keep that down and I’ll give you more later.”

The dog’s expression went from expectant to resigned as if she understood precisely what he’d said.

He found the pet door in the largest bag. The contraption wasn’t just one of those swinging types. This was high-tech, with a sensor attached to the dog’s collar—also provided by Audrey—which emitted a signal that unlocked the pet door. It was pure genius, as it kept any other critters—opossums, skunks and raccoons, which were everyday sights in these parts—from being able to wander in, drawn by the scent of the food.

Their conversation from the night of the picnic came back to him. She still hadn’t given him an answer or a smile. Still hadn’t taken him up on his offer of friendship. But the dog had given them a second thing to share in their lives—Tess being the first.

“Share.” He squatted down beside the dog. “Might be a good name for you.” He gave a chuckle. “And if I give it a little twist and spell it C-H-E-R, she’ll be none the wiser...until I tell her differently.”

Cher licked his hand.

He picked up the pet door and looked at the directions for installation. They required a hole to be cut through his dad’s new garage door.

He was a dead man.

* * *

“HERE’S YOUR MEDICINE, MOM.” The pink pill Audrey held out was so small it hardly seemed possible it could contain a full night of sedation.

Her mom shook her head and waved her away. “I don’t want any, thank you. I’m full.”

“This is your medicine.” Audrey nudged her with the glass. “The pill helps you sleep.”

“I’m not sleepy.” Her mom crossed her arms tightly across her chest.

Although she tried to keep everything related to her mom on as much of a schedule as possible, Audrey had to be flexible and ready for whatever came up. Her mom had never refused any of her medicine before, but this could be the start of a new behavior she’d have to deal with. Hoping her mom would see it and take it on her own, she set the pill on the table along with the water glass. “I’ll leave it right here. Maybe you’ll want it in a minute.”

“Tell your father I need to speak with him.” Her mom glanced around the room, a worried look pinching her petite face. “And you need to call your sister in for supper.”

“Dad’s busy right now,” Audrey said, following the suggestion the doctor gave her to not engage Mom in upsetting dialogue unless she specifically asked if the family members were dead. “And Callie’s already eaten.” After years of hardly ever discussing Win with anyone, since no one in Florida had known her or brought her up, it was almost therapeutic to discuss her so openly and so often. But calling her Callie would always feel off.

Tess came into the kitchen with her jacket on. “Are you getting sleepy yet, Grandma?”

Audrey smiled behind the refrigerator door at Tess’s eagerness to go check on the dogs, but could she be any more transparent? She put the milk in its assigned place, where her mom could find it easily.

“There she is.” Her mom pointed to the chair beside her. “You need to eat your supper. Now sit down.”

Tess cut her eyes up to Audrey. “Um... I’m not hungry?”

“You must eat something or you won’t be allowed to go back outside to play.”

Audrey grabbed a bag of baby carrots before she closed the door and put a few of them on a saucer, which she placed in front of Tess. “Eat your carrots and you can have a cookie.” She pointed to the pill. “You need to take your medicine, Mom.”

“I’ve been asked to play.” Her mom got up and strode to the piano. Within a few seconds the house was filled with Chopin’s Fantaisie-Impromptu.

Audrey’s heart danced to the wild rhythm of the piece. How could her mom’s memory, so ravaged by disease, still allow her fingers to move at such speed with such precision? One of those good things in the world Mark had spoken of, she supposed.

Mark had done a good thing this afternoon. Actually, they had done a good thing together, and since Mom seemed so restless this evening, maybe a walk would do her good. They could check on the dogs. She finished tidying the kitchen while her mom played her heart out and even stood and took a bow when Audrey and Tess applauded at the end.

“How about a walk this evening, Mom?” Audrey suggested.

Tess pumped her fist. “Yes!”

Her mom smiled. “A stroll would be lovely. Ask your father to come along with us, will you?”

Audrey grabbed a couple of sweaters from the closet as Tess grabbed her grandma’s hand and pulled her out the front door. “He’s busy right now,” Tess said, throwing a questioning look Audrey’s way. She nodded, assuring her daughter the pat answer was the right thing.

The sun had dropped low, so they couldn’t stay long or they’d be walking home in the dark. If she had a dollar for every time she and Mark had walked from his place to hers in the dark, she would be a rich woman. And if anybody had told her six months ago she would ever be making this trek again, she would’ve thought they were delusional.

As they walked down Beecher Road, Tess chatted excitedly, filling in her grandma again on all the details about the mother dog and the puppies.

“Oh.” Her mom jerked to a stop and she stared at the enormous weeping willow. Her mouth twisted into a look of horror. “No!” The word was whispered, but the agony behind it sounded loud and clear. The old tree had been a favorite spot for Audrey, Callie and Mark throughout their childhood. No doubt, the sight of it—not a quick pass like in the car, but a slow approach—had shaken loose a memory. “No, no, no, no.” Her mom thrust her fingers into her hair, gripping the roots, and she squeezed her eyes closed as if she couldn’t bear to see.

Audrey managed to get her arm around her mom’s shoulders. “It’s okay, Mom.” She kept her voice calm as much for Tess, whose wide eyes said she was scared, as her mom. “Here, why don’t we walk this way.” Turning her around was like trying to maneuver a statue.

“No, no, no, no.”

Audrey finally got them headed back in the direction of home, but her mother refused to open her eyes or loosen her grip on her hair. Audrey was terrified she might actually pull some of it out she held it so tightly. Her mind raced, trying to come up with something—anything—that might diminish the anxiety.

A poem came to mind. The one her mom used to recite every evening when they would all walk down to Beecher’s Marina to say good night to Kentucky Lake. “‘I must go down to the seas again,’” she said and felt her mom’s shoulders relax under her arm.

“‘To the lonely sea and the sky.’” To her surprise and delight, Tess’s sweet voice joined hers. She’d recited it often to her daughter when they were on the beach in Florida, but she never realized Tess had committed it to memory.

Her mom’s eyes opened and her hands dropped from her hair to hang at her sides.

“‘And all I ask is a tall ship—’” the duet became a trio “‘—and a star to steer her by.’” A smile broke onto her mom’s face, and Audrey shared a smile and a sigh of relief with her daughter.

“I like those words.” Tess nodded in appreciation. “They’re pretty.”

“Those are the opening lines to ‘Sea Fever,’ a famous poem by John Masefield,” her grandmother explained. Then she went into an in-depth account of the poet and some of his other famous works that lasted the rest of the way home.

When they got there, her mom went on into the house, but Audrey held Tess back for a moment. She stooped down to be at eye level with her. “I’m sorry Grandma got upset, punkin, but you handled it really well. I’m proud of you.” She pulled her into a long, tight hug.

“Can we still go see the puppies?” Tess whispered.

“No, we can’t. Not tonight.” She leaned away to make eye contact. “I’m sorry. I’ll text Mr. Dublin and let him know we won’t be there after all.” Tess nodded glumly. “But we’ll stop by tomorrow after school, and we’ll go every night after supper when we can,” she promised and Tess answered with a resigned sigh.

“Can I play ‘Mario’?”

“Thirty minutes. Then it’ll be time to get ready for bed.”

Tess took off at a gallop through the door and up the stairs.

When Audrey got in the door, she found her mom standing by the sofa table in front of the living room window, looking at the pictures of Win. Her expression was sad but calm as she reached out a finger and traced her daughter’s features in one of the photos. “Callie’s dead,” she said softly.

Audrey walked slowly over to stand beside her. “Yes, she is.” The doctor said to tell the truth if the subject arose.

“You couldn’t say Calinda. You called her Win.” The voice was tender and raw.

“That’s right.” Audrey put her arm around her mother’s shoulder and hugged her as tears made silent tracks down her cheeks.

They stood in silence for a few minutes until her mom finally whispered, “I want to take my medicine now.”

* * *

MARK GLANCED AT the text.

Sorry we didn’t make it. Mom had an episode on the way down to your house. I’ll check on the dogs at least twice tomorrow while you’re at school.

Taking care of Helen had to come first. He swallowed away his disappointment and then chuckled as he looked around the apartment he’d spent the last two hours cleaning and getting ready to show off.

With any luck, it would keep for a couple of days.

He went to check on his new companions in the garage. As soon as he opened the door, Cher left her new bed and went to the door wanting out.

He let her out, stepping outside with her while she took care of her business and then came dutifully back.

He stooped down in front of her and scratched behind her ears. “I would’ve taken you in, with or without Audrey’s help. You know that, right?” Cher closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. “And even after we’ve found the puppies new homes, you’ll always have a home right here.” She gave his hand a grateful lick. Then, ears pricking up, she followed the sound of the soft whine back inside, where she nudged the distraught offspring to let him know Mama was near. He quieted down, and she took the moment of silence to sniff her way around the garage, exploring the new surroundings.

Satisfied her stomach could handle some more food, Mark poured a cupful of dry food into the bowl and set it down beside the water. She came to it immediately and wolfed it down but didn’t beg for more. Instead, she went back to the plush bed and curled up with her babies snuggled beside her.

Mark took a picture of the group with his phone and sent it in a text message to Audrey.

Immediately, she answered back with a smiley face.

The first smile he’d gotten from her in a very, very long time.

CHAPTER FIVE

TREY CAUGHT HIS reflection in the side-view mirror and grinned. It still gave him a little bit of a shock to see the face covered in all the hair. He’d never grown a beard, but he liked it. Along with the sunglasses and the hair that brushed his shoulders, he was a different person from who he’d always been. It was a nice feeling—the real Trey tucked into a safe place, hidden from the world.

He was much more tan now, too, since he’d been fishing for most every meal the past three weeks as he meandered his way across West Virginia and Kentucky. He’d reached the Kentucky Lake area at the western end of the state. Benton, the sign at the edge of town had read.

He leaned his face back to catch the warm morning sun as the gas continued to pump. A car pulled into the next lane over, but he didn’t pay much attention until the squeal of an excited female jostled him.

“Audrey!” The young woman who’d been getting in the black sedan parked at the curb rushed toward the newcomer.

Trey glanced in the direction of the responding laugh, and suddenly his vision was filled with red tresses, flaming in the morning sunshine. His erection sprang to life at the memory of his almost-one-time girlfriend.

Yeah, she reminds me of Kaitlyn, too, Daddy whispered. Her name’s Audrey, though.

The two women hugged, bouncing happily back and forth, and the red strands swayed softly, mesmerizing him like a hypnotist’s watch.

“You’ve straightened your hair. I love it!” The shorter woman smoothed her palm along the ends appreciatively, and Trey’s hand itched to do the same—to wind them up into his hands, to get that kiss she always promised but never gave.

You mean, you never took. Just having a beard doesn’t make you a man.

“I’ve been getting blow-outs.” The redhead turned her head toward him for just a fraction of a second before flipping it back around.

“Well, it’s beautiful.”

Trey agreed, revisiting the glimpse of face he’d been granted when she turned toward him.

“Thanks.” The redhead’s voice was low and silky, like her hair.

“I hear you and your husband divorced, and your dad died. I’m so sorry. And you’re back here, taking care of your mom?” The shorter woman’s head tilted in sympathy.

Audrey sighed. “Yeah, back in good ol’ Taylor’s Grove.”

She’s divorced. Grieving. Lonely, I’ll bet. Lives in Taylor’s Grove. Must be close around here.

“And how’s your mom doing?”

A shrug caused the red hair to shimmer under the slight movement. “Not great. Sometimes better than others. We just take it a day at a time.”

“Well, she’s blessed to have you. Alzheimer’s is a horrible disease. Such a damn horrible disease.”

Trey’s pump stopped and he replaced the nozzle. The women were still talking.

Don’t walk away from her yet. Find out all you can. Might come in handy.

Trey sloshed the squeegee from the bucket of gray water and swiped it across his windshield.

Audrey turned long enough to insert her credit card to start her pump. She didn’t glance his way. But he got a good, long look at her creamy complexion and eyes with long black fringes of lashes.

See the way she’s ignoring you? Being coy. Means she likes you.

The hard-on was agonizing now. He’d have to go to the restroom, but not until she left. He checked the oil level in his truck and still they talked.

Her daughter’s name is Tess, and she’s in the first grade. Did you notice how the mention of her teacher’s name—Mark Dublin—brought a shocked gasp from the other woman. Wonder what that’s about?

The pump on Audrey’s side clicked that it was finished. The women started saying their goodbyes, and the shorter woman walked back to her car.

Now’s your chance. Say something, idiot. Be a man.

Trey shook his head.

She’s getting her receipt. Now. Do it before she drives off. Just say “Hi.”

Trey opened his mouth, but her door slammed before he could get the word out. It caught on the back of his tongue as he watched her drive away.

Didn’t you hear me?

“I heard you, Daddy.” Trey kept his voice low.

I said to speak to her, and you didn’t. Open defiance. You know what that means.

Trey glanced at the belt lying on his front seat.

No one was waiting for his pump, so Trey left the truck and sought his relief in the small restroom, where he could lock himself away from the world for a few minutes.

Before returning to the truck, he pulled a map from the display rack and tossed it on the counter. “Can you show me where boat ramps are in these parts?” he asked the kid working the register.

The kid opened the map and grabbed a pen. “If you’re just wanting to put in, there’s a bunch all around here.” He started circling places on the map.

Trey’s eyes wandered the area of the map around Benton. The name Taylor’s Grove jumped out at him. Seeing how close it was made his heart beat fast.

See there. She’s close. Waiting for you right there.

“But, if you’re needing bait or anything, there’s several marinas that sell it.” The kid made an M over several sites, including Taylor’s Grove.

Bait. Daddy’s chuckle made him shiver. You have to use the right bait to get the one you want. You understand.

Trey nodded. “Yeah. I’m going to need some bait.”

Now you’re thinking like a man.

Trey could almost feel the slap on his back.

“Beecher’s in Taylor’s Grove would be the closest.” The teenager ran his finger along the line on the map, pointing out the road to Draffenville and the turn he would have to take to go on over to Taylor’s Grove and Kentucky Lake...and Audrey.

“Never heard of Taylor’s Grove.” He did a little subtle fishing without Daddy’s prodding. “Very big place?”

“Tiny,” the kid answered. “Don’t blink or you’ll miss it. Go to the end of town and turn left on Beecher Road. It dead-ends at the marina.”

Hear that? A tiny place. So finding out where someone lives probably wouldn’t be too hard.

Trey paid for his gas and the map and made a point of thanking the kid for his help, then he got in his truck. His stomach growled, the familiar gnaw growing too quickly to be ignored.

Time to go fishing, son. Find the highway to Taylor’s Grove. To Audrey with the silky red hair.

He obeyed and turned the truck toward the highway.

* * *

TESS RACED OUT of the school, waving a picture she’d drawn. “Can we stop to see the puppies on the way home?”

Audrey glanced at the picture—Tess’s rendition of a mother dog and three puppies. She grinned down at her daughter. “What? No ‘Hi, Mama’ or a hug?”

Tess threw her arms around her waist for a tight hug. “Hi, Mama. Can we? Please?”

“We’ll have to check with Mr. Dublin. He might have plans, so we can’t just be showing up at his house all the time.” The idea seemed so foreign to Audrey—making an appointment to go to Mark’s house. But nothing was the same as it used to be, and even sharing the responsibility of the dogs needed to be done with that in mind. She and Mark had their own separate lives and it needed to stay that way.

“Okay, let’s check.” Tess started pulling her toward the door, but before they got to it, Mark had come out to meet them. “Mr. Dublin, do you have plans?”

Mark placed his hands on his hips and gave her a serious look, but Audrey saw the mirth in his eyes.

“Well, that depends, Tess. What do you have in mind?”

“I want to see the puppies, but Mama says we can’t just be showing up at your house all the time.”

Audrey winced a little, hearing the exact words she’d said repeated almost verbatim. No telling what else Tess repeated.

“Actually, except for riding my bike and fishing some, I live a pretty dull life.” He glanced Audrey’s way and she saw the edges of his mouth twitch into a near smile that made her stomach flutter. She looked away quickly. “You and your mom are welcome to stop by anytime. If I’m home, I’ll enjoy the company, and if I’m not, I’ll be sorry I missed you.”

“See, Mama.” Tess leaned her head back, looking at Audrey upside down. “I knew it would be okay.”

“I did check on them twice today. The mother dog—”

“Cher,” Mark said.

“Cher?” Audrey questioned the odd name, but Mark nodded she’d heard correctly. “Okay, um... Cher used the bathroom both times. I think the little one is stronger than he was last night. I pulled the others away both times I was there and let him nurse by himself for a while.”

Mark nodded again. “I did that for a few minutes last night, too. He’ll catch up soon, I think, if we keep that up. Two males and a female, by the way.”

“That’s two boys and a girl, right?” Tess asked.

Mark’s smile broke full-force then as he looked down at Tess, and the muscles in Audrey’s chest tightened. “Right.” His eyes swept back up to meet Audrey’s. “I’m going to be here another half hour or so, but y’all can go ahead and stop even with me not there.” He paused, and his expression got more serious. “I left the door unlocked today, knowing you were going to be coming and going. But—” his shrug was apologetic “—with the apartment there now, I probably need to keep it locked while I’m at work. I know it seems silly, but you never know.”

“Oh, sure.”

“I’ll give you a key.”

“No,” Audrey protested. Having a key to Mark’s place seemed inappropriately intimate. “You don’t need to do that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see any other way you can check on them during the day. And once the puppies start needing to go out...”

She had assured him raising the puppies would be a joint venture. She took a deep breath. “All right. Yeah, that’s probably the smartest thing to do.”

“I’ll give you one if you come by tonight.”

Her stomach twisted, but she nodded. “Okay.”

“Is Helen better today? Your text last night worried me.”

Was it just her imagination, or was he pulling out things to keep her talking? And were people really throwing looks their way? She glanced around just in time to wave at Sue Marsden, the town busybody, who happened to be driving by. Yep, definitely looking, and the knots in Audrey’s stomach tightened again. “She’s calmer today. We were on our way to your house last night, but she saw the willow tree and freaked out.”

“Memories.” Mark’s tone was soft with sympathy. “Strange how they affect us. When I see the tree, it always brings a smile.”

Audrey’s eyes followed Tess, who was busy trying to catch a grasshopper. “Different people, different reactions, especially when you’ve lost a child.” She shifted her eyes back and they collided with Mark’s, reading the message there. It was always going to come back to this subject, wasn’t it? No matter what they talked about, the subject of Win’s death was always going to be right there, lurking in the next sentence.

She hated that. Hated the anger weighing down the bottom of every breath she exhaled. Hated that Tess—her precious daughter and the one thing that gave meaning to her life—had never known her without the anger. What she would give for a breath—just one breath—not filtered through the pain of eleven years ago.

Her eyes filled with tears, which she blinked back.

“Audrey...” Mark touched her arm gently and she stepped back. She heard his sigh as his hands settled back on his hips. “I’m going to put the pet door in this evening.” He changed the subject to something safe. “But I think it’ll take two people—one inside and one out—to get it placed right. If your mom’s okay and y’all come after supper, maybe you could help me for a few minutes?”

“Yeah, if Mom takes her sedative and goes to bed, we’ll come down and help you.” She shrugged. “I’m never sure that will happen the way it’s supposed to, but we can hope.”

“Once I get the hole cut, I can cover it with plywood until you can get down there...whenever that might be.”

In other words, I’ll wait until you come around, his eyes said.

An involuntary warmth passed through her, and she started to smile at the sensation, but then the true source hit her and she clenched her teeth. It wasn’t a comforting warmth. It was left over from the flare of anger always burning in her, deep inside.

And it was always followed by a chill.

* * *

SEE, I TOLD you finding her would be no problem.

Trey timed his late lunch at the same time school would be getting out. She had a daughter in the first grade, so he figured she’d probably be there to pick up the kid after school, and he was right. She was talking with some guy—the kid’s teacher, most likely—but she didn’t like him. Her posture was rigid, and once when he’d touched her arm, she’d stepped quickly back.

She’d like your touch. Wouldn’t want to step back—not that you should let her even if she wants to. You have to show a woman who’s in charge.

Trey’s fingers tingled at the thought of touching Audrey’s smooth skin. He wouldn’t let them dig in. She’d probably bruise easily, she was so fair. No, he would just use his fingertips and let them glide down her face, her neck, her bare shoulders...

Trey took another small bite of the BLT from the diner, pulling his eyes away, forcing them to look in the other direction for a while. It wouldn’t do for her, or anybody else in town, to think he was watching. He’d have to be discreet and move slowly.

Some of the moms and kids were coming to the park to play on the swings. He smiled at the ones who came near. “Hi.” He gave a good-ol’-boy nod. “Afternoon.”

He took a sip of the soda and another bite of the delicious sandwich. Take-out food was a splurge, but to be able to sit in the gazebo at the park in the middle of town and see all the goings-on was worth the indulgence.

She started to walk with the child at her side—the little girl had hair as bright as her mama’s. So she lived within walking distance—but then everybody must live within walking distance in this hole-in-the-wall town.

He allowed himself a casual glance. They walked east. That was good. When he went back to get his boat, which he’d left tied up at the marina while he came into town to grab a quick bite, he’d watch for her car. Not many streets turned off Main Street on the east side of town. It might take a few days to check them all. Might even require coming early in the morning or late at night. But fishermen were notorious for keeping strange hours.

He took the last few bites, pausing for a few minutes to stretch his arms out along the back of the bench—seemingly in no hurry to chase after the redhead who had now gotten out of sight. Then, like a dutiful citizen, he gathered up his paper wrapper and foam cup and threw them away in the trash can before heading back to his truck.

By the time those coppery tresses came back into his view, Audrey and the child were almost to the edge of town. Only one house remained on the left side of the road and none on the right. So the house on the corner must be hers. He turned his signal on and turned left onto Beecher Road, never glancing her way.

A little way up the road on the right was a driveway. He slowed a tad to check it out. Her tan SUV! Right there, plain as day in front of the two-story house. The only house on the road, he noted, as he drove on back to the marina.

Damn! You’re a helluva lot better at this than I ever thought you could be!

“Going out again?” The marina guy—probably Beecher himself—came out of his small shop as Trey got out of his truck and headed to his boat.

Trey grinned broadly, letting out some of the excitement racing through his body. “Can’t stay away when there’s one out there just waiting to be caught.” He laughed, knowing he was safe in his admission, and he heard the echo of his dad laughing with him.

Beecher’s eyes tightened slightly. “You’re not from these parts.”

Trey had spent the better part of the day out in the boat, listening to his daddy’s voice conjure a sympathetic story.

Do this exactly the way I told you to.

He shook his head, turning down the wattage on his smile until it became appropriately sad. “West Virginia.” He sighed. “Spent the last two years since my daddy died taking care of my mom, God rest her soul.” He removed his cap for a second and covered his heart, then flipped it back up on his head. “She had Alzheimer’s. Died last month.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Beecher’s lips pressed to a thin line.

Told you. There’s the sympathetic look.

“She’s better off, but her death knocked the wind out of my sails.” Trey glanced away, blinking back tears that were meant for Granny, not his mom. “I just couldn’t stay there. Decided it was time for a new start. Leave the bad memories behind and carry the good ones with me, you know?” He patted his chest over his heart.

“So, you’re looking to move here permanently?”

Trey shrugged. “Staying at a motel in Benton right now,” he lied. “But I like the fishing here. Like Kentucky Lake. If something turns up in the way of work, I’d consider it. Money’s not going to last forever.”

Beecher nodded and held out his hand to shake. “I’m Sol Beecher, by the way. I didn’t introduce myself earlier.”

Trey shook the extended hand warmly. “Trey Cooper.”

“I’ll keep my ear to the ground.” The fancy phone on Beecher’s belt started playing some idiotic song. He reached for it. “If I hear of any jobs, I’ll let you know.”

“I’d be muchly beholden.” Trey laid on the good old Appalachian-boy charm. He got in his boat and started untying as Beecher answered his phone.

The groundwork’s laid.

* * *

“THE HOLES ARE lined up perfectly right there. Can you hold it long enough for me to screw it in?” Mark couldn’t see Audrey through the pet door. She was on her knees inside the garage, and he was on his knees outside.

“I’ve got it.”

Using his dad’s electric screwdriver made quick work of the top two screws. “Okay. The top ones are in. It’s not going anywhere now, so you can let go.”

Her grunt of relief came through the plastic as did the rustle of her movements as she stood up. She’d helped cut the installation time in half, he figured. He placed the other four screws, then stepped inside to add the finishing plate. “Tess.” The child looked up from where she sat on the floor beside the dog bed, cradling the puppies in her lap. “If you’ll put the collar on Cher, we’ll see if this thing works.”

“It should, if I got the batteries in everything the right way.” Audrey handed the collar to Tess to do the honors.

Cher seemed to understand and enjoy being on the receiving end of all this attention. She held her nose high in the air as Tess attached the hot pink collar with the battery device.

Mark taped the hinged flap open, like the directions suggested, then he grabbed a few treats from the bag on the counter and handed a few to Tess. “Let’s see if our dog can pass first grade.” He tapped Tess on the nose. She answered with a smile and a nod.

He went outside and stood a few feet from the door. “Cher!” He whistled. “Come here, girl.”

In a flash, the dog was through the hole in the door. He heard Tess’s and Audrey’s applause as he praised the dog and gave her a treat. “Now, call her back in.”

Tess called her, and with ears and tail held high, Cher plunged back inside. They did this several times, until he was sure the dog understood the game plan. Then he went back inside and lowered the flap. “Fingers crossed,” he said over his shoulder as he went back out.

He called and whistled, and almost immediately heard the smack on the other side, followed by the sympathetic, female tones.

“Awww. She hit the flap,” Audrey called, but in the next instant, Cher bounded through the opening.

“Good girl.” Mark scratched behind her ears and gave her a treat. “She has to learn to wait for the signal,” he said, loud enough for them to hear him inside. “Okay, call her back.”

This time it was Audrey who called her name, and Cher loped toward the door, butting it again with her head. Then the soft buzz sounded and she was through.

It took seven more tries, but the dog caught on quickly. By the ninth time, she hesitated long enough for the signal to buzz and then pushed through.

“Woo-hoo!” came the cheers from inside.

“If it takes eleven times to make something a habit,” Mark called to his companions, “our dog’s above average.” Getting to use the plural possessive pronoun made his smile broaden.

They called Cher back and forth a few more times to make sure she truly had the hang of it before he went in. Tess met him at the door with a grin and a high five, and when he turned his attention to Audrey, she did the same.

There it was! The first smile from her meant for him in eleven years. His breath caught as her happy eyes met his and her hand reached up for a slap. He met it with his own and caught it, letting their palms brush for a second that exploded with joy in his heart. He knew better than to push his luck, but he couldn’t help himself. Touching her for even a second and having her touch him back willingly wasn’t something he was sure he’d ever experience again, and he wanted it to linger.