"I became a Christian. That’s a huge change." Alec worked to keep his tone even. "Where are you going with this?"
She pressed her lips together. "It sounds ridiculous to say you’ve been plotting revenge for so long. It’s equally ridiculous for me to believe you’ve spent ten years pining for me. What’s the truth, Alec?"
The truth was that he’d come for business, coupled with the tiniest pinch of payback. But he didn’t know if she’d forgive him for lying to her about it. Anger simmered beside a different need, one he recognized and cashed in on. "The truth is that I want you to trust me."
Her eyes widened. His temper cooled, because he recognized the frightened look slapped across her face. He’d almost forgotten that expression. He tried to ease it away. "I know trust doesn’t come easily for you."
Katrina shifted, picked up the pole and looked away, the gurgling river loud in her ears. As always, Alec had gotten to the bottom line. Shame stung her eyes. Her whole life had been a struggle to rise above the hurt of rejection. And it seemed she still hadn’t won.
"Katrina, look at me. C’mon."
She blinked furiously and hoped the moonlight hid her pain.
"Your dad left you. Your mom ignored you afterwards. Joey’s gone. I left." Compassion softened the edgy planes of his cheekbones and tenderness coated his words. "I want you to trust me."
Katrina nodded and swallowed thickly. A band of pain squeezed her ribs until her breath turned shallow. She had no reason to trust him, and yet she wanted to. She could throw accusations at him. She could say no. Instead, she surrendered to the feelings that had been vying for control since the first day he stepped into Kat’s Korner. "I’ll try."
The faint call of a coot interrupted the tense stillness.
Alec heard it, too. His eyes crinkled. "You remember that summer?"
Despite her angst, she felt the slightest tip of a smile. "You weren’t so smooth then. There are better ways to show a girl some love than catching a coot and throwing it at me."
"Who said anything about love?" His face cracked into a wide grin. "That was prowess. Man conquering animal. Those birds are fast. Very few people could catch one."
"Yeah, well, I might’ve been impressed if it hadn’t pooped all over me." She couldn’t stop the chuckle that bubbled out. He’d bought his first boat, took her and another friend for a ride and decided to show off for them.
So long ago. Such different people.
Her gaze drifted from his face to the river where moonlight laced silver threads through iridescent ripples. "Can you still catch one?"
"Nah. It took me years of practice. Besides, I’ve done it once. There’s no need to do it again."
She gave him a soft slap against the arm. "I knew the arrogant kid was still in there somewhere."
Their smiles mellowed. The way he looked, face softened and mouth relaxed by memories, drained the distrust from her soul.
"Let’s take these crappie back home." His fingers traced the line of her jaw, their touch soft and cool against her skin. He pulled his hand away and when he smiled at her, she found the strength to smile back.
Alec grabbed the cooler and she held the poles as they headed to the edge of the woods where they’d parked the car. On the way, Alec eased his arm over her shoulders and the unfamiliar warmth almost caused her to shrug it off. But she left it to prove that she could handle it and, seconds later, was glad she had. The pressure of his touch filled her with comfort.
In ten years no man had earned even a passing glance from her. Trusting Alec might be difficult but maybe it was time to ask God for help. She’d once believed He knew her heart and the desires it had. Surely God knew how she’d never stopped thinking of the only man she ever loved, that despite herself, she loved him still.
*****
The widow’s taste in colors matched her personality.
Ugly.
Alec surveyed the modest ranch style home before him. Could’ve been pretty without the pink paint and weeds littering the front lawn. The plastic flamingoes really ruined the whole look.
Wrinkling his nose, he hauled the sack of books Kitty had given to him out of the passenger seat of his car. Giving away profit was ridiculous. But although she didn’t seem excited about the donation, she’d insisted he do it and he found himself admiring this charitable side of her nature.
The sun glared at him, hot and unforgiving, as he trekked the widow’s sidewalk. Overgrown palms lined the walkway. Banana spiders, a few big enough to give him a chill despite the heat, hung suspended on translucent threads between the palm trees.
He rapped on the widow’s gaudy yellow door. Best to drop these books off quickly and keep out of her way. She was a woman he’d have avoided for the rest of his life, except Kitty had some kind of appointment today and she’d begged him to just drop the books off, no contact necessary.
His stomach gurgled. Yeah, lunch right after he faced the woman who’d pushed him away from Christianity in his latter teens and beyond. For years when he’d thought of Christians, he thought of the widow.
He shifted on the balls of his feet. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. Not just from the sun. A few more months, long enough to convince Kitty he could love her in spite of their bungled history, and then he could leave. Close Kat’s Korner, open Roasted and escape the town that still didn’t want him.
The front door flew open, and he resisted the urge to back up a step. Moved forward instead, close enough to look Widow Carmichael right in the eye. She’d maligned him, turned his friends against him and made his last year of high school torture. He smiled at her, mocking, knowing now as an adult that he’d been right and she’d been wrong.
The widow’s generous cheeks trembled. Likely with outrage.
"You," she said, her words sounding close to a snarl.
"Books." He dumped the bag at her slipper-clod feet. "Have a nice day." He twisted to leave, but her gnarled fingers snagged the sleeve of his shirt.
"You loathsome excuse for a human." She let go of his shirt and the wrinkles around her mouth deepened.
"Still calling names?" He straightened his sleeve and looked at her from beneath lowered lids. She hadn’t changed one bit. Just the touch of her fingers made him want to jump in the river to get clean.
"What does Katrina see in you?" The widow moved forward, slow, deliberate, her ugly eyes small in her puckered face.
Heart pounding, Alec stepped back. A surge of heat lit through him. "Maybe she sees what God does."
And maybe not. Katrina had wronged him in a deep and lasting way, but he’d abandoned her.
A choking noise came from the widow. "You would bring God into this? Ha. Katrina is just a scared, timid woman who you think you can push around and control. Your mother was no good and neither are you. Get out of this town. Don’t ever come back. No one wants a liar here. A murderer." She spit the last words and droplets landed wet on his arm.
Swallowing his distaste, he rubbed his arm against the back of his pants. "Are you done?"
"If Katrina knows what’s good for her, she’ll stay away from you. I don’t understand why she’d trust you, after you left her alone with that little boy to raise all by herself." The widow’s lips shook as she spoke. She dragged the bag into her home and gave him one last glare before slamming the door.
Pivoting, Alec walked to his car. He’d go straight to the store. He was no longer hungry.
The crackle of tires on asphalt caught his attention. Jamming his hands in the pockets of his shorts, he watched as a police cruiser pulled up behind his rental. The ignition cut and Grant got out.
"Dispatch sent me out here, said they received a call about a disturbance in the neighborhood." Grant cocked an eyebrow. "You bugging Widow Carmichael?"
Alec coughed out a laugh. "Just delivering some books."
Grant shook his head, a scowl working its way around his lips. "She’s a piece of work."
"I’m surprised you answer her calls." He wouldn�
��t, but he wasn’t sworn to civic duty like Grant.
"What happened was a long time ago. It’s not her fault Carmichael was a pervert."
"She acts like I made it up." Man, he sounded like a whiny kid.
"Some people can’t face the truth. That’s all. It hurts her more to think her son had problems than it does to blame you." Grant slapped the hood of his car and then walked around it. "Guess I’ll go in so she can tell me everything’s fine."
Alec nodded curtly and stepped out of Grant’s way.
Grant paused to eye him. "When are you heading out?"
Alec shrugged, feeling more out of control than he had in a long time. His fists tightened inside his shorts’ pockets. Sunlight speckled the sidewalk.
"Well, call me before you leave. We can hang out, go fishing or something."
"Sure." He watched Grant stride away and then turned to his car. Something nagged at him but he couldn’t quite grasp the shadowy nudge. Lately everything seemed hazy, just beyond his reach.
For the past ten years he’d been in control, smart, a planner. Now he couldn’t forget the scent of Katrina, her taste when they’d kissed, the way she’d surrendered herself to him. Life would be so much easier if he just told her he wouldn’t renew her lease when the time came, if he flew back to New York without a second thought.
Groaning, he slid into the car and started the engine.
Yes, life would be much simpler if he cared nothing about her dreams.
*****
Katrina sipped her tea, savoring the rich flavor on her tongue before swallowing. She eyed the two elderly women browsing the shelves, contentment expanding inside until she couldn’t stop a smile from popping up.
"Oh, dear, don’t you have any Janette Oke?" Ms. Lincoln shuffled towards Katrina, her thin frame hunched over her white cane. Her blindness didn't keep her from enjoying books. Ms. Douglas had been her reader for years.
"Beatrice, don’t be silly," chirped Ms. Douglas. She bustled past Ms. Lincoln and swept her oversized flower-studded hat off, exposing silver corkscrewed hair. "What we really need," she leaned forward, "is some Ted Dekker."
"I heard that." Ms. Lincoln’s cane whooshed through the air, narrowly missing Ms. Douglas’ head.
Ms. Douglas did a nimble sidestep and flashed Katrina a brilliant smile. "I refuse to read boring Janette Oke. It’s my turn to choose. Dekker, Katrina. Where is he?"
Katrina pointed to the left, not bothering to hide her grin. Ms. Douglas scrunched up her pert nose and hopped away like a little bird.
"Do something, Katrina." The frown on Ms. Lincoln’s long features made her cheeks sag to her chin. "I refuse to read horror."
"I did." She reached for Ms. Lincoln’s hand and guided it to an audio book sitting on the counter. "I ordered this for you. It’s a little more expensive and it’s not Janette Oke, but when I saw it, I thought of you."
"Well, what is it?"
"A book on CD. The author writes very similar to Ms. Oke and I think you’ll enjoy her."
"Ring me up before that busybody gets back."
"Sure." She took the cash from Ms. Lincoln’s frail hand, made change and then bagged the product.
"Your voice is different." Ms. Lincoln’s words were ripe with implication.
"Is it?" Katrina glanced over to where Ms. Douglas stood, hands on ample hips, muttering to herself.
"You’re happy, aren’t you?"
She focused on Ms. Lincoln. "I believe I am."
"Don’t sound so surprised. Sorrow lasts only for the night. Eventually day must come."
"That’s true," she murmured.
"It’s Alec, isn’t it? He was always such a dear boy. Thoughtful, too."
Katrina bit back her smile, even though her neighbor wouldn’t see it. Funny, but thoughtful wasn’t an adjective she’d ever use for the young version of Alec. "He’s very thoughtful."
"Did he take you to the Fall Festival?"
Katrina’s gaze whipped upwards to Ms. Lincoln’s sightless eyes. "Yes, he did."
"Good." The older woman nodded her head as though Alec’s act had satisfied her to the marrow of her bones.
Katrina slid Ms. Lincoln’s audio book into a lavender sack. Cheeks hot, she focused on the process. "Did you ask Alec to take me?"
"I remember you two as children. Alec could never be told to do anything he didn’t want to. More stubborn than a donkey at bathtime."
Surprised, a chuckle erupted from Katrina. "That’s an interesting way to put it."
Ms. Lincoln smiled at her even as she rapped the floor with her cane. "Douglas, I’m done."
"Oh, my." Ms. Douglas skipped to the counter, cheeks flushed bright pink, arms full. "There are so many to choose from. I’ll take these." She giggled.
Grin stretching, Katrina rang the books up. The women thanked her and left, arguing to the door about Ms. Lincoln’s new purchase. Apparently, it put Ms. Douglas out of a job.
Katrina picked up her tea for another long sip.
Alec drove into the parking lot as the women were leaving. She watched how he opened the car doors for both the ladies, how they hugged him and patted his shoulder. A good man.
They’d fought so much before the wedding. Teenage drama. Why had she let herself forget Alec’s kindness?
As she mused on her willing blindness, Alec opened the store door and came in. His face looked drawn. Before she could ask if the widow had been home after all, he came and lounged on the stool beside her.
"You look happy with yourself."
"With life." She’d woken this morning refreshed and at peace. Outside, the sky carried not a cloud and its bright cerulean landscape was softened only by a gentle breeze passing through. Fall was here at last, though few trees had changed color.
A new season. And she was ready. Surrendering to her love for Alec had not been painful, as she’d feared it would, but liberating. She scanned him now, noting the way his hair brushed against the collar of his black cotton shirt, the casual length of his legs stretched in front of him, and knew that no matter what, she would love him forever.
The thought made her stomach fluttery. Excited. Young. She’d almost forgotten that feeling.
The bell over the door jingled as her neighbor Maria Rivera came in. "Hola, Katrina. Necesito un libro."
"El nombre?"
They lapsed into comfortable Spanish while she located the book and then rang it up.
"Adios."
Maria left and she filed the receipt.
"Since when do you speak Spanish?" The look on Alec’s face was comical.
"Since four years ago."
"Unbelievable."
"I don’t know why you’re so shocked." She sat on the stool next to Alec and swiveled so that she faced him. "Languages have always been a passion of mine."
"Did you go to college?" He sounded mystified.
It amused her and she couldn’t keep the humor from her voice. "No, I hung out in the southwest part of town. There’s a Mercado pueblo there and a small restaurant." She shrugged. "You speak French."
"I lived in Europe."
"And I live in Florida."
They eyed each other. She saw the admiration in his expression. A ticklish thrill wiggled up her spine, made her want to jump up and dance. Laugh until her throat hurt.
"You didn’t give up all your dreams," he said.
"No, I just prioritized."
He nodded, his eyes fastened on her. Dark, focused. She felt heat in her cheeks but didn’t look away.
Would he kiss her again? Should she kiss him? A pool of warmth gathered in her belly. Her breath shallowed and her toes tingled with anticipation. But he didn’t move, only studied her with that single-minded, hooded expression.
An onslaught of feelings rushed over her, warm and prickly, as she remembered their intimacies as teenagers. Face burning, she broke the connection and popped off the stool.
"You dropped off the books?" She put a pen back into its holder, the spot between h
er shoulder blades hot as if his stare burned into her.
"The widow took them herself." His voice sounded subdued but she didn’t look over for fear she’d start thinking about their relationship in high school again.
"That’s good." Had she said something to him? An insult? He acted tough but the widow obviously touched a raw nerve in him. Thanks to her most of the town would never believe he’d told the truth. Even if they did now, it wouldn’t change how he’d been treated. She whirled around and saw that he was indeed still staring at her.
The look in his eyes dried her mouth. Awkwardly, she wet her lips and swallowed. "I should’ve taken them. I’m sorry. I know how you feel about her."
Alec nodded and looked to the front of the store, effectively dismissing her apology. "You’ve been busy today."
"Some days are like this." Some days weren’t.
"You need to start making a profit." He glanced over, eyebrows lowered. "And stop doing that with your cheeks."
"Don’t worry. Tourist season is coming in March. Things’ll pick up then."
Katrina was concentrating on fixing her cheeks when the front door slammed open so hard that a book fell out of the bookcase closest to the entrance.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
As soon as the front door opened, Alec knew there’d be trouble. Some animal instinct rose inside, prickled the back of his neck, propelled him upwards to shove Katrina behind him.
The man’s hair hung in his face, falling over a ratty and gnarled beard. And he smelled like rotten meat. Dingy clothing hung on his half-starved frame and his wild brown eyes darted to Alec before focusing on the feisty woman behind him.
Alec tightened his hold on Katrina’s wrists, ignoring her attempts to yank them back.
There was no way she’d get loose. If she got hurt in any way . . . He pressed her against the wall behind him and eyed the guy who stood heaving in front of them, spittle escaping in tiny bubbles from his mouth. He could have a gun. Or a knife.
Or rabies, judging by his demeanor.
"Is there something I can help you with?" Alec asked, his tone deliberately low and cold.
"I wanna to talk to Katrina." The man rasped the words out, then swiped at his mouth with a hand browned by grime.
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