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* * *
Cooper watched the little girl skip back down the sidewalk with the dog trotting behind her. Grace had hit the jackpot with her new, ready-made family. Sam was the former sheriff, now running for mayor of Branding Iron. And his daughter, little Maggie, would win anyone’s heart.
He was grateful that Grace had forgiven him for missing her wedding last summer. He’d planned to walk her down the aisle. But that was the week when Trevor had been in a wreck with a friend who was joyriding in his mother’s Corvette. Trevor had been hospitalized. His injuries hadn’t been serious, thank heaven. However, he’d ended up in juvenile detention for being in a stolen car with an underage driver. This after he was already on probation for spray-painting the front door of the middle school he attended. Cooper had had little choice except to stay in Seattle and deal with the situation.
Not long after that, Cooper had decided it was time to give his son a new start, in a new place. When Grace had let him know that her neighbors’ house was for rent and emailed him some photos, Cooper had contracted to rent it sight unseen. Selling his Seattle condo had taken longer than he’d counted on, but at last, here they were. He could only hope the change would be good for Trevor.
They’d arrived with the movers this morning, which was a Friday. Grace, who taught first grade, hadn’t been here to welcome them. Neither had Sam, who worked for the county planning commission and was busy with his mayoral campaign. But Grace had mailed Cooper the key and made sure the utilities were on, so they could start moving in.
Grace had popped in after school, apologizing for the parent conference that had kept her late. She’d hugged him, then raced off to shop before dinner. At least the family would be together tonight.
But what was it Maggie had said about Grace’s former housemate being invited?You’ll like her. Those words were a red flag if he’d ever heard one. Was Grace already trying to set him up with a needy friend? He pictured a dowdy schoolmarm in tweeds and Birkenstocks who talked in four-syllable words.No thanks, Grace,he thought.I came here to raise my son, not to find a woman. And if I feel the need, I can find my own.
Trevor was looking up at him with the usual scowl on his narrow face. “Hey, Trevor,” he said. “I could use a hand with unpacking the books. How about it?”
Without a word, Trevor stood and, feet dragging, followed him into the house.
* * *
Jessica Graver kicked off her low-heeled pumps, popped the tab on a Diet Pepsi, and sank into a cushiony chair. Most Fridays, after a long, busy week, she’d be looking forward to pulling on her sweats, doing a few yoga stretches, and settling back to watch a rented video.
But tonight she’d been invited to dinner at her friends’ house, so the sweats and the movie would have to wait. Jess was tired and not feeling very sociable. But she was lucky to have good friends like Grace and Sam, she reminded herself. Besides, she’d be meeting a young man—a very young man—at dinner.
Even before Grace had called about her nephew, Jess had known about Trevor Chapman. As the youth counselor for the Branding Iron School District, she’d gotten a heads-up from the records office that an incoming student had an arrest record and was on probation. It was part of Jess’s job to be aware of such students, keep an eye out for any sign of trouble, and, where called for, to intervene as best she could.
It had been Grace’s hope that meeting Jess early, in a nonschool setting, would make the boy aware of an adult on his team, someone he could go to if he needed help or just to talk.
Jess was more than happy to oblige. If she could save just one kid from a future tragedy . . .
She closed her eyes. She’d only meant to rest them. But she was tired, and she found herself sinking into the black place that would never leave her—the dark night, the pop of exploding gunfire, the scream of sirens, the blinding flash of press cameras in her face, and the frenzied wails of grief.
“Hey, Jess, aren’t you going to Grace and Sam’s tonight?” It was Wynette, her pretty blond housemate, who woke her. She’d just come in the front door, one hand balancing a pink box of leftover pastries from the bakery she managed.
Blast, I must’ve dozed.Jess blinked herself awake. The clock on the mantel said 5:40. She had just enough time to freshen up and get to Grace and Sam’s.
She found her shoes and made a quick dash to the bathroom. The mirror above the basin showed deep brown eyes in a pale oval face, framed by dark hair upswept into a twist and showing the first few threads of gray. She was thirty-eight, unmarried, with a past that was nobody’s business but her own.
When she returned to the living room, Wynette was hanging her jacket on the rack by the door. “I don’t suppose I can offer you a donut,” she said.
“No. Save them for Buck. I’m sure you’ll be seeing him later.”
Wynette’s smile sparkled. “We’ll be driving to Cottonwood Springs for dinner and a movie. After that we’ll probably go to Buck’s place. So don’t wait up.”
Jess chuckled. “I never do. Oh—I almost forgot. The package with your wedding invitations is on the kitchen table. It was on the porch when I got home.”
“Great. Wow, this is getting real.” Wynette was planning a Christmastime wedding to Buck Winston, Branding Iron’s handsome young sheriff. She’d been walking on clouds ever since he’d proposed last spring.
“So you’re going to meet Grace’s brother,” Wynette said. “Lois Harper told me she saw him in town this afternoon. She described him as a smokin’ hottie. And he looks to be about your age.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. I’m not looking for a man—especially if he’s hot. They’re the kind you can’t trust.” Jess slipped on her coat, picked up her purse and keys, and hurried out to her car.
When she’d said she wasn’t looking for a man, she’d meant it. So whatwasshe looking for?
After Wynette’s wedding, she would be alone in the small three-bedroom house she’d bought two years ago. Maybe she should wait to advertise for new housemates. The money wasn’t an issue, and some time to herself might be just what she needed to clear her head and reset her goals. Maybe she could even get back to the master’s thesis she’d never finished.
An autumn wind had sprung out of the west, bringing a chill to the October air. As Jess drove across town, the first fall leaves blew against the windshield. Where had the year gone? Halloween was barely a week away. Then the candy and jack-o’-lanterns would be gone from the stores, and the Christmas glitter would go up.
Jess had never been a fan of Christmas. Too many memories, most of them unhappy. Maybe she should start thinking about a trip to someplace warm and sunny—like Cancún or Hawaii. But of course, she couldn’t miss Wynette’s wedding, which was set for December 27, the Saturday after Christmas.
