by Mary Campisi
Several months ago, I met and fell in love with Pete Finnegan. Of course, everyone knows Pete and his family. We planned to live in Magdalena and raise a family here. This town is welcoming and generous in spirit, until one of its own is targeted for harm.
I did something that caused harm, even though I thought I was helping a dying woman. Her family had abandoned her and I couldn’t imagine how they could do this. To me she was a kind soul who only wanted and needed someone to show her love and help her through her terminal illness. What I didn’t know and wouldn’t understand until much later was that she manipulated me into doing her will.... I became an unknowing accomplice in her desire to hurt her own family and anyone associated with them.
I’m speaking of Gloria Blacksworth, a name many of you have heard before. The woman and her exploits are synonymous with hatred and destruction. I swear, I didn’t know her intentions when she elicited my help. I thought I was helping her put her life in order before she passed. But some of you don’t look at it that way and have made it your mission to make me pay for trusting the wrong person. The hurt I feel has caused so many problems for me, to the point of not trusting the man I love.
I want to live in this town, be a vibrant part of this community, and marry the man I love. I know I have to trust again, even though I’m scared to death to do it. But if I shut myself off, I will only be half alive, and I will not be who I am, who I was raised to be.
To those of you I have hurt unknowingly, I am deeply sorry. I hope you can forgive me and move on with your life so I can move on with mine. To the man who owns my heart and lives in my soul, I will love you until I take my last breath. And if you can find it in your heart to give me one last chance, I will be waiting for you.
Elissa
* * *
Pete Finnegan’s mother slid the Magdalena Press in front of him and said in the no-nonsense Dolly Finnegan style that made even his father pay attention, “Read this, and then you better get a ring on that girl’s finger.” She raised a brow, added, “And I’m not talking about the engagement ring. I’m talking about the wedding ring.”
Pete read Elissa’s letter three times. She’d really gone and laid it all out for the whole town to see? To judge? She’d made her feelings for him known, but she’d also let the curious see that things weren’t going so well for them right now. In fact, the plans to head to the altar had stalled—indefinitely. He’d heard she still wore the engagement ring he’d given her, but it took a lot of courage to tell the whole town, including the females who’d rather see him unencumbered, that life wasn’t so grand right now. Pete folded the paper and stuffed it in his back pocket. “I’ve got something to do.” He gave his mother a peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”
Dolly smiled at him, patted his cheek. “Go, son, make things right with her.” She winked. “I won’t count you for dinner.”
A nod and then he was gone.
It should have been easy to find her, since he’d seen her everywhere when he’d been trying to avoid her. But not today, not when he needed to find her so damn bad his chest hurt. Pete checked the house they’d rented on Hickory Street, Lina’s Café, the Heart Sent, even Boone’s Peak. Nothing. He’d sucked it up and called Christine Desantro, but came up empty there, too.
Where could she have gone? He’d just seen her yesterday afternoon coming out of Sal’s Market. She’d spotted him, too, her expression softening as she waited for him to do something—like approach her, be cordial, maybe? Of course, he couldn’t do anything as civilized as that. No, not Pete Finnegan. He was still pissed that she couldn’t let go of past hurts and was making him pay for it. He’d climbed back in his truck and sped out so fast, he left a trail of gravel dust behind.
And now, less than twenty-four hours later, she’d all but disappeared. She wasn’t answering her phone either, and he’d left twelve messages. Had yesterday’s snub been the end for her? Had she realized she no longer wanted to make the effort to fix things between them? That maybe he just wasn’t worth it? Panic gripped his gut, shot up his throat. Had she gone back to Chicago? No, she’d never do that.
Would she?
Damn. He dragged a hand through his hair, thought about his options. He could scour the town again, wait and pray she’d come back, or he could call Pop Benito and ask for advice. Pete chose option three and called Pop. The old man had a few thoughts, but it was the last suggestion that gave Pete the most hope of finding her. Sure, it was a long shot, but if he calmed down and thought about it, damn if it didn’t almost make sense.
Where was the last place you and Elissa were that made you realize you wanted to be together until you took your last breath? Maybe it was somewhere away from busybodies and outside comments? Think, Pete, think, Pop had said. Do that and you’ll find your answer.
That was an easy one. The cabin. That’s where he and Elissa had met and fell in love. It was where they’d planned to take their children one day. A safe haven. Pete packed a bag and twenty minutes later, headed for the cabin. Would she be there, and if she were, would she listen to him this time? Believe what he had to say and push past the fear of betrayal for another chance?
He loved her and wanted a life with her, but there was a lot of baggage between them and if they were going to make it, they needed to get it all out in the open and deal with it. Relationships were messy and while he didn’t like the thought of spilling his emotions, he guessed if he had to spill, it might as well be with Elissa.
When he reached the cabin and spotted her car, he blew out a breath of relief. They’d talked about coming here this fall to see the leaves. He’d promised to show her the most beautiful burst of color she’d ever seen, right from the backyard of the cabin.
Then everything had gone to hell…
Pete grabbed his bag, eased out of the truck, and closed the door. He made his way to the front door of the cabin, found it unlocked. If they settled things, he’d have to talk to her about safety and locking doors. The soft sway of jazz met him as he stepped inside and looked around. She wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen…not in the bedroom either. Had she left the house and not locked the door? Damn, he’d definitely need to talk to her about that. Elissa was a trusting soul, maybe a little too trusting, except, apparently, where he was concerned.
He headed back to the kitchen, glanced out the window into the backyard. Elissa sat in a folding chair wrapped in a sweater, eyes closed, face tilted toward the late afternoon sun. His Elissa. Pete drank in her beauty and innocence, his heart aching for the way things used to be. He made his way to the back door and down the steps, his gaze locked on her. When he stood a few feet away, he stopped and said in a gentle voice, “Hey.”
She blinked open her eyes, stared. “Pete? What…what are you doing here?”
It wasn’t an accusation, but a question filled with uncertainty. “Looking for you.” His lips inched into a half smile.
Elissa stood, moved toward him. “I had to get away to think. This place brings me peace and clarity.” She paused, lifted a shoulder. “It makes me feel safe.”
“I know.” Pete tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ve been looking for you. Do you have any idea how much you scared me? I thought maybe you’d gone back to Chicago.”
She frowned, shook her head. “Why would you think that?”
He shrugged. “Maybe because I drove you away?”
“You didn’t drive me away. I just needed to get a few things straight in my head.” Her expression softened, her eyes grew bright. “Once I did, I planned to find you and tell you all about it.”
“Oh.” He reached into his back pocket, pulled out the letter she’d written to the Magdalena Press. “So, you didn’t say everything you had to say here? There’s more?” His lips twitched as a burst of pink crept up her neck, settled on her cheeks. “Did you mean it?”
Her eyes filled with tears and the lips he loved quivered. “Every word. Oh, Pete, I’m so sorry for the way I treated you. You didn’t dese
rve any of it, and I made you pay for another man’s cheating. I didn’t trust myself enough this time to make the right choice even though my heart said you would never betray me.” A tear spilled down her cheek, then another. “I love you with my whole heart. I’m not going to let another man’s actions destroy what we share, or the life we could have. Can you give me another chance? Will you let me—”
“I love you, Elissa, and I will always love you.” He swiped at her tears. “Trust me, okay? Let’s go live our lives. Let’s be happy.” He pulled her to him, kissed her with passion and need and promise.
“Yes,” she whispered against his lips. “Yes.”
Another kiss, this one longer, slower. “Now about that Christmas wedding…”
Elissa pressed her small body against his, let out a sigh. “Take me to bed, and then we’ll talk about the wedding.” She tugged on his shirt, eased it out of his jeans. “We’ll talk about anything you want, but right now I don’t want to talk.”
He pulled away, smiled down at her. “I like the sound of that.” He stroked her cheek, trailed a finger along her jaw. “I really missed you. Let’s go to bed, so I can show you just how much.
And he did.
Twice.
* * *
When Rex MacGregor’s truck pulled into the driveway, Pop was finishing the slice of cherry pie Kathleen had fixed him a short while ago. Dang tasty, too. The crust had a butter sweetness to it that melted on your tongue, and the cherries were a mix of mouth-puckering tart and sugary sweet. Just the way he liked it, just like Lucy used to make for him. Pop heard Rex stomp up the back steps, the door open and close, and then a bit of shuffling followed by two thuds.
Kathleen sighed and shook her head. “I’ve been married to that man more years than I can count, and he still hasn’t learned to take off his work boots without a commotion.” Another sigh. “You’d think I asked him to remove every bit of dirt from the soles before he walked into the house.”
“Rex might make a commotion, but you know he’ll do anything you ask, no matter how big or small.” Pop scratched his chin, thought on this. “You sure he’s not stumbling around back there trying to get his boots off? Those work boots have a lot of laces, and if they’re wet…or he doesn’t have a stool…could make for a difficult go.”
“Goodness, I never thought of that.” She leaned toward him, whispered, “And I’ll bet that belly’s in the way. He’s not big on the heart-healthy meals I’ve been fixing, and I swear he’s snuck a donut or two, but he’s trying. It’s hard for a man who’s eaten meat and potatoes his whole life to develop a taste for salmon and spinach.”
Pop laughed. “Like I said, Kathleen, the man will do anything for you.”
“Yes,” she said, her voice soft as a newborn’s cheek. “Yes, he will.”
“Kathleen, have you seen my…”
Rex stood in the doorway, work socks in his left hand, gaze fixed on Pop. There was no missing the red splashing the man’s face like an afternoon sunburn. He knew why Pop was here, had to have expected there’d be a visit and a reckoning soon enough. “Hello, Rex. Mighty fine tasting pie. Can’t say Lucy made any better. Kathleen let me have a taste before she carts it off to Bree and her crew.” He chuckled. “I hear Adam’s developed a sweet tooth. Not surprising with your wife watching over that kitchen.”
It was Kathleen’s turn to blush, a pale-peony pink. “I only send dessert twice a week. Bree said that’s enough. She can’t afford the extra calories now that she’s not twenty-five anymore.” She shook her head. “What most women wouldn’t give to be long and leggy like our Bree.”
“Maybe she doesn’t want to overdo because she’s planning to put on weight for another reason,” Pop said. “Never know.”
Rex scratched his head. “You mean she’s planning to have another baby?”
Pop shrugged. “Never know.”
“Blessed all the saints in heaven, another grandchild.” Kathleen’s smile spread, her eyes sparkled like twinkle lights. “Imagine that.”
Rex scratched his head again. “You really think she and Adam might be planning on adding to the family?”
“Could be. You got to start looking for the signs.” Pop had wondered about this himself. Adam didn’t have any children of his own, and he loved Bree’s kids. Maybe they’d want to add another one to the brood. He and Bree were still young enough…
“What signs?” Rex pulled out a chair and plopped into it.
“You know the signs, Rex.” Kathleen slid into the chair next to her husband’s. “Bree will start ogling all the babies in town, then she’ll slide in a comment or two about how children are God’s gift to parents, but the real test will be if you find her in Sal’s Market hunting down Jordan almonds.”
Rex frowned. “Is this about our baby girl trying to eat all the blue almonds so she could have a boy?” Another frown and a shake of his bushy head. “I always thought Brody was behind that nonsense.”
“Just the mention of that man’s name pinches my brain.” Kathleen sucked in a breath, blew it out nice and slow. “Thank the Lord Adam came into Bree’s life. He’s brought her happiness, and no parent could ask for more than that.”
Pop nodded. “True words, Kathleen. True words.” The woman was as sweet as the chocolate chip cookies she baked every week, with maybe an extra dose of sugar in it. Bree got her sweetness from her mama, that much was obvious. Rex was a crusty old lot with a soft spot for his family, and when anyone threatened them with words or deeds, Rex came after them.
That’s why he’d campaigned against that poor little girl, Elissa Cerdi. The girl didn’t mean any harm, and she’d confessed, apologized, and still it hadn’t been good enough for Rex. Pop slid the paper he’d brought with him across the table. “What do you think about Elissa Cerdi’s letter to the Press? It’s something, isn’t it?”
Kathleen shook her head and said in a soft voice, “That poor child. Nobody deserves to be treated like that, and if I find out who started this mess and gave her such grief, I will march right to their house and tell them a thing or two about charity and kindness.”
Rex’s cheeks shifted from red to purple. “Kathleen, you don’t know the whole story, so you can’t really comment. Maybe the girl isn’t as innocent as she sounds. Maybe she hurt people.”
His wife gave him a you-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about look. “Didn’t she admit that? She sure did, and then some. But that wasn’t good enough because somebody came after her, tried to stir up the whole town and turn them against her.”
Pop jabbed a finger against the kitchen table. “That’s the real crime.”
“Absolutely. Rex, honey, I think we should try to find out who’s behind this and set them straight. You know we had our own share of near misses a while back, and I will not see that horrible Blacksworth woman’s lies hurt an innocent. That girl had no idea she was friends with such an evil woman.” She tsk-tsked. “I can picture our Bree getting into a mess like this, and then what?”
“Our baby girl knows better than to get mixed up in something that smells like boiled cabbage. And she keeps quiet when it’s not her business.” But even as he spoke the words, his expression said something else altogether. It said their baby girl would behave exactly as Elissa Cerdi had.
Time for Rex to come clean. Pop leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his belly, and lifted a brow. “I’m not one for pretending around an issue, so we might as well get it all out. Are you going to tell her, or should I?”
Kathleen stared at them. “Tell me what?”
Rex swiped a hand across his forehead. “Honey, it’s not like it seems, you got to trust me on this one…”
“Trust you? Rex MacGregor, do you have something to do with this Cerdi girl and the letter she wrote? Are you behind this?” Her voice rose higher than a teakettle whistle. “You better start talking now, and I mean right now.” She crossed her arms over her chest. The foot tapping started next, followed by the sighs and the stink eye.
Pop would not want to be Rex MacGregor, and he would not want to get in his wife’s crosshairs. No way. People thought the big lug was the real threat, but it was his wife who ran the roost and said what was what. If she was displeased, there would be hell to pay and Rex knew it.
“Rex, you best start talking now.” Kathleen stared at her husband, added a no-nonsense look to the stink eye.
It was something to see the way the big man’s shoulder slumped, his chin drooped, and beads of sweat rippled across his forehead, dripped to his temples. “Kathleen, I was only trying to protect our family.”
“By harming someone’s reputation? A young girl’s no less, a newcomer to our town? She’s Pete Finnegan’s fiancée, for heaven’s sake. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“Of course, it does.” The chin drooped further. “The Finnegans are good people.”
“Indeed, they are. Dolly’s my friend. How do you expect me to face her, knowing you’ve tried to ruin her future daughter-in-law’s reputation?” The finger tapping started next, worked into a staccato. “I am not proud of you, Rex MacGregor. I’m downright embarrassed. What would our baby girl say if she knew you were behind this mess?”
Rex’s chin shot up, his eyes watered. “Don’t tell her, please. I’ll make it right. I promise I will, no matter what.”
Pop took it all in, the expression on Rex’s face that said he was feeling worse than a belly overstuffed with bratwurst and fried potatoes. Too bad his wife’s expression said she’d settle for nothing less than a big-style apology. “I think Rex will make it right,” Pop said, sliding a gaze his way. “And unless you have a better idea, Kathleen, I think I know a way that will send just the right message.” Oh, it would be a tough pill for Rex to swallow, but he’d do it if it meant getting back in his wife’s good graces. Darn right he would.
Two days later, the following letter appeared in the Magdalena Press.