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“Belinda, Ethan,” said Carrie.
Ethan reached out to stroke the cat, but when she flattened her ears at him, he thought again.
“Maybe later,” he said.
“Belinda,” scolded Carrie. “Come on in. I’ll put her away somewhere safe and get us some coffee. I don’t know about you, but I could use a refill.”
“Sure.”
“Oh!” she said, doing a double-take. “That’s your car?”
A surge of pride ran over him. His powerful, fully-loaded consolation prize got him a lot of admiring glances, but this one, from Carrie, was like an appetizer to his male ego, letting him know that he wasn’t just hungry. He was starving.
“You like it?”
“Who wouldn’t? But I thought you drove a Land Rover.”
“That’s my work-horse. This baby’s for fun.”
Carrie slanted a look at him. “Must be nice.”
Her tone wasn’t lost on him. “So now, because I have two vehicles, I’m some entitled rich guy.”
“I didn’t say that.” She blinked wide, innocent eyes at him.
“Right.”
But was that the impression everyone had of him when he drove it through town? Did those admiring glances contain resentment?
“I’ve worked hard for what I’ve got,” he said.
“I’m sure you have,” said Carrie. “But lots of people work hard.”
He followed her back inside, the flush of pride gone, a vague sense of being caught off guard, of being chastened, in its place.
And the hunger, once awoken, roared inside him. He wished he hadn’t taken note of the way her denim shorts rode up on her thighs, or the length of her legs, or that thin strip of lower back he’d glimpsed as she bent over.
Surely the dimples along a woman’s spine were one of God’s wondrous gifts…
*
Carrie left Ethan in her office and headed over to the local high school. They owed her the final payment for the grad photos and she thought, while she collected, she might see if there’d been any gossip about her. Mrs. Terlecki was always good for gossip.
She walked through the double front doors and was immediately flooded with memories of her own time within these walls. Pride swelled as she looked at the framed graduating class photos, six of them now, that had Forever Yours Photography stamped on them.
So many young faces, full of innocence, bravado, hopes and plans. How many, she wondered, had been as crippled by anxiety as she’d been? How many had been desperate to fit in?
It had taken ten years, but she walked upright and proud now.
Limping now and then perhaps, she thought as she pushed through the doors to the secretary’s office. But not crippled.
She hoped to stay that way.
“Carrie Logan.” Mrs. Terlecki looked up from her keyboard with a frown.
If anyone had her finger on the pulse of rumor and innuendo in this town, or at least at the high school level, it was the school secretary. She knew which kids were getting into what kind of trouble, and was always happy to contact parents with her information.
“Hello, Mrs. Terlecki. You must be relieved to see the end of another successful school year.”
“It’s never over until it’s over. What’s wrong?”
The woman saw trouble in everything and everyone. Some things never changed.
“Was everyone happy with the grad photos?”
“As far as I know. Why?”
“Oh,” said Carrie. “I haven’t received the final payment. It’s probably in the mail, but I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by, in case you had it here.”
Mrs. Terlecki didn’t flicker an eye. “I’m sure it’ll arrive any day. I forwarded it, like I do all large invoices, to the school board office.”
They’d never once done that with her payments. Her checks had always arrived directly from the school. But Carrie knew better than to argue.
“Oh. Okay. Well then.”
The secretary shifted a stack of paper files. “I have to say, I was surprised to see that Jessica Palmer back in town. I didn’t think she’d show her face around here again, after all this time. You’re a good girl, Carrie. You’d do well to stay away from your cousin. She’s trouble.”
