Finding Home

by Maddie James

  Wouldn’t any woman think about that?

  Her sister was younger, thinner, attractive. She had cornered the market from an early age on cute and bright. In fact, she had earned three degrees while attending state university on a cheerleading scholarship.

  And she was fertile.

  Yes, she was that.

  Apparently. She and Cliff got pregnant oh-so-quickly after they had married. At last, one of the daughters gave her parents the grandchild they’d longed for. The one Suzie had never given them.

  Yes, little sis Chelly was quite the girl. Landed herself quite the man. Now had quite the baby. Along with an ideal little picket-fence life in Dalton Springs. Thank God they decided Legend was too close for comfort.

  When Suzie had decided she needed to leave Legend—leave Cliff for a while—she was overjoyed to finally put her culinary skills to good use. Something besides cooking dinner for Cliff every night. That’s all he’d thought she was good for. Her husband never wanted her to work. He didn’t like the thought of her cooking for other people. Only tolerated her working on her cookbook because he thought it was a great hobby.

  Hobby. Bleah.

  Suzie slapped down a handful of bubbles that begged to tickle her ear. “Cliff never saw my cooking as important,” she muttered. “I have no clue why I put up with him for so darn long.”

  Now Brad. He found her culinary skills very useful. Which was probably one of the reasons she’d fallen for him, lock-stock-and-barrel. When she’d taken the job at the haughty Mountain View Resort Hotel in the Smoky Mountains outside of Gatlinburg, he’d hand-picked her for his sous chef after a week as line cook.

  Brad Matthews was the top-dog chef at Mountain View, the Chef de Cuisine for the resort, and he was a damned good one to boot. Suzie hadn’t worked with anyone as skilled at the Cramdon University School of Culinary Arts in New York. She’d longed to work someplace where she’d actually be valued for her talent and was eager to please Brad in every sense of the word.

  They’d quickly fallen into a relationship. Maybe it was all the attention he’d paid her that attracted her to him. Probably. Cliff never gave her that sort of attention. And of course, Brad was unlike shoe-salesman Cliff. Brad was a six-pack, Adonis-type bad-boy from Atlanta. Cliff was nearly bald and from Dalton Springs. Brad was five years her junior. Cliff was seven years her senior. Brad was fit and buff and quite the ladies’ man. Cliff was, well, pudgy.

  But so was she. She had a little pudge around the middle from all those years of cooking for Cliff. To say she was surprised when Brad Matthews made a pass at her late one evening after cleaning up was an understatement. She’d admired Brad as a chef. Loved his style of running the kitchen. Couldn’t wait to get to work each and every day to see what new delectable dish he would serve up.

  But she never, ever, in a million years thought he’d be interested in her in a romantic way. Or a sexual way. Pudgy Suzie. A little thick around the middle. Five years older.

  And barren.

  Of course he didn’t know about the barren part. It was not the kind of thing you blurted out to someone who you were having an affair with. And just as well. When Brad shared his dreams with her one evening, dreams of being his own boss, having a family, settling down into life, it was then she knew she had to end it.

  Brad Matthews was a fantasy. He wasn’t real life. Five years younger than her and wanting a family. Something she could never give him. She’d decided to take herself out of the picture and high-tail her thirty-six-year-old little (okay, pudgy) fanny back to Legend where she belonged.

  Of course, she had no earthly idea that Cliff and Chelly were waiting in the wings to break the big news to her.

  Oh, well.

  Suzie shook herself. The water was getting cold again, the bubbles were dying. Her fingers and toes were like tiny prunes.

  “Time to get out, Suzie-Q.”

  She took a deep breath and blew it out. A few bubbles churned up and flitted away. Suzie-Q. Suzette. Brad’s pet names for her. She hated to admit it, but she’d missed them.

  How in the hell was she going to send him packing?

  Chapter Nine

  Saturday

  Saturday morning sneaked up on Midnight. For the first time in years she hadn’t set her alarm, and when the sun finally woke her, it was high in the sky. Stretching, yawning, and feeling completely blissful, she pulled back the covers to start the day.

  After her usual yoga routine, showering, and being sweetly chastised by Suzie as a “sleepyhead,” Midnight left for town, dodging the other guests. While she drove, she drank coffee from a Legend’s Landing B&B travel mug Suzie had pressed into her hand. A basket of delicious-smelling breakfast leftovers tantalized her from the passenger seat. She’d eat them while she worked on her building. She was excited about getting to the physical labor portion of her new start. So much had happened already, and all of it good. But there was still a lot to be accomplished—on the business, and on her life.

  The business part was coming along. She’d have plenty of arts and crafts to sell, and had promotion and advertising ideas to bring customers to Legend from all over. There was a lot to see in this cute little town if you slowed down long enough to enjoy it. She’d talked with Betsy, Suzie, and the bookstore owner, Jane Smith. She’d also met Lilly, who had recently moved here too, and was staying at the B&B. They’d chatted, briefly, and she’s learned that Lilly was also thinking of opening a shop.

  They were all enthusiastic about helping involve other business owners in a united promotional campaign. But Betsy had cautioned, and the others chimed in to agree, that there were people who’d probably try to dissuade them from a big promotion of Legend. One of them was Martin McClain. He liked Legend just the way it was, and Betsy admitted it nearly pained him to sell property to newcomers.

  “Just what I said to him,” Midnight had told them, “the first time he took me into my building and talked about the history of the place.” Her frustration with that had helped her ignore his good looks and virility. Of course, at the time she had thought he was married to Betsy. Married or not, he was just another man determined to have his own way. Delicious-looking, of course, but still. He’d need to stand aside, and get over the past, because Midnight believed big things were on the way for Legend, Tennessee.

  So her business was getting started. She also felt she was making progress on the life part of her makeover, since she hadn’t pulled the voodoo doll out from under the car seat in a couple of days. She finally felt as if the divorce was behind her, as was the loss of her job. Neither of the men involved mattered to her at all. Enough time had passed that she’d begun to heal. Really. But just in case, she’d keep the little doll handy for a while. She might need it if Martin got in her way. Or if she felt like getting in his way.

  Unseasonably warm weather for late fall had allowed her to have the top down on her car most days since crossing into the Great State of Tennessee. She knew the temperatures couldn’t hold, but for now the cool, fresh air was heaven. She pushed all thoughts of Martin McClain out of her mind, determined to enjoy the moment. The wind whipped her long black hair, and the bright sun brought out the surprising red highlights inherited from her Irish mother. Her Queen CD reminded her that Too Much Love Will Kill You. Ha. Fat chance of that happening. Too much love? She couldn’t even fathom the idea and laughed.

  ****

  Martin McClain stepped out the front door of his office. Gliding down the street a few yards away was a glistening little silver power car with a beautiful woman at the wheel. She laughed as she drove, and her long, silky black hair whipped about behind her. A song played, and loudly, but he paid no attention. He just stared after her, wondering what had brought such an exotic creature to tiny Legend, Tennessee.

  She intrigued him. He’d tried to quash that feeling since he’d first spotted her on the sidewalk in front of her building. All beauty and elegance, looking worried and hurried, yet somehow in charge of the situation, she’d
been so obviously out of place in his simple hometown. In Legend, life moved slowly, people lived simply, and the word “elegance” was seldom used. Midnight Shelby seemed the epitome of the word. Even dressed simply in snug jeans and form-fitting knit shirt with her hair hanging straight down her back. Martin knew she was out of his league, even if he’d been interested in getting involved. Which he definitely was not.

  Still, she was intriguing. Also exotic, beautiful, and as far as he could tell, becoming the darling of the general populace with her idea of selling their handmade crafts. Betsy certainly idolized her.

  But Betsy was like that, Martin thought as he locked the door behind him. Sweet and innocent, really. She liked everybody and often trusted too quickly. Martin found himself watching out for her, even lecturing her at times for not keeping her guard up. He knew all about keeping up a good guard. And keeping a distance. Most people were out for whatever they could get.

  Since his wife had left him with a tiny baby thirteen years ago, Martin had been wary of women. She’d filed for divorce and sent him papers to sign giving full custody of their son to Martin and three-fourths of everything they owned to her. Martin had signed the papers and filed them at the county courthouse, said good riddance, and gone on with his life. He was raising his son Daniel by himself and doing a damn fine job of it.

  Sure he was bitter. Who wouldn’t be? But he’d also learned his lessons and had been teaching them to Daniel his entire childhood. Take care of number one, always watch your back, and remember that home is where you belong. Home wasn’t just the house they shared. It was the extended family and friends who loved and supported each other in Legend. Martin made sure Daniel knew the importance of home.

  Martin was devoted to family and friends, most of whom still lived here where they were born and raised. But since the divorce, he’d avoided a relationship with any woman interested in more than friendship. Betsy, of course, was different. She was like a sister to him since she was married to his cousin Mike. There were some other local girls, like Suzie Schul and Jane Smith, who were okay. But in general, Martin steered clear of the fairer sex, out of habit. It was becoming an issue with thirteen-year-old Daniel, who, like all teenagers, thought he knew everything. He was a handsome kid, well-built, popular, and smart. Everyone liked him, including the girls. Martin thought about it often. When would Daniel’s heart be broken for the first time? And how could he bear to watch?

  Martin sighed and shrugged, knowing he couldn’t protect Daniel forever. At least for today he was safe, at his Cousin Joe’s house. The boys would spend the day messing with computers and throwing the football around in Joe’s back yard. Growing up would be put off for another day.

  Which left Martin with some time on his hands. He’d pick up Daniel this evening, but until then, there wasn’t a whole lot he needed to do. Maybe he’d just amble downtown and see what was going on at the new arts and crafts shop... Just to check on his recent sale. Nothing personal.

  ****

  In the front second-story room of her building, Midnight lay on the raw-silk upholstered love seat she’d carefully arranged by a mahogany-and-marble reading table in the corner of the room. Her living quarters above the shop had been coming together quite nicely...until just now. A few minutes ago she’d been thinking this would be a wonderful corner to curl up with a book on the cold winter nights she knew would eventually arrive. But right now, reading and weather weren’t on her mind.

  As she lay there contemplating the ceiling of her new bedroom, various methods of murdering her realtor flitted through her head. She was slumped back onto the love seat, where she’d nearly collapsed a moment ago, after looking overhead for the first time. Her long jeans-clad legs in front of her, ankles crossed, she also had her arms crossed over her middle. She felt as if she were literally holding herself together, to keep from flying apart. Her head resting on the sofa back, black hair hanging down over the expensive cream colored fabric, Midnight squinted upward, hoping that might change what she was seeing. What in the world? How had this not made it into the virtual tour she’d taken via her realtor’s website? She would definitely have to kill him!

  What a shame. A few moments earlier as she’d put the Battenburg lace coverlet onto her high four-poster antique bed, she’d surprised herself by idly thinking what it might be like to kiss Martin McClain. Et cetera.

  Since it was now killing, and not kissing, on the agenda, she decided she’d call and order him to come over here right this second!

  No! She’d go to his office, stand over him at his desk, and scream at him!

  No! She’d….

  Footsteps on the wooden stair treads had her snapping her head around. Had she fallen into the Legendarian habit of leaving doors unlocked? The door at the top of the stairs opened, and there stood her handsome nemesis.

  “You! How dare you! Are you here to laugh? To gloat?” She sat up and glared at him.

  The look on his face went from pleasant to confused, to something that could easily turn into angry.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong? Ha! As if you don’t know!”

  “Okay! Yeah. As if I don’t. Why are we yelling?” Deep furrows showed between his brows, evidencing his confusion.

  “How did you expect me to react when I saw it?”

  He met her black-eyed glare. “Saw what?”

  Her only answer was to cross her arms back across her chest, lean back, and look straight up. Martin looked up too.

  “Has that been up there the whole time?” he asked. He eased himself down onto the love seat.

  “Well, one would think, with you being the realtor…”

  “Okay, just stop! I see there’s a mirrored ceiling. I didn’t know it before. Didn’t notice.”

  “Typical man,” she muttered.

  “Hey!” He looked up again. “Well, okay, whatever. I didn’t notice.” He shook his head and chuckled a little. “If you’d known the previous owners, you might have more of a sense of humor about it. Just think of the mirror as a bonus. Now, come on, Miz Shelby, you’re not shocked, are you?”

  “Shocked?” Yes, she was, but would die before admitting it to him. She looked up at the ceiling, hoping to think of something cutting to say. But she met his eyes in the mirror, and noticed again that they were the color of dark chocolate. Good for you. Packed with antioxidants. She licked her lips without thinking, and saw in the mirror the reflection of herself doing so. Saw him watching her. Caught her breath at the look in his eyes. Was that hunger? Lust? Midnight’s throat was suddenly dry and her heart was beating a little too quickly.

  Unable—or unwilling—to stop looking at the huge mirror, she watched as the reflection of his narrowed eyes bore into the reflection of hers, saw the nostrils flare just a bit.

  “So, what are you going to do about it?” she softly asked into the mirror.

  “It’s your ceiling. That decision’s one you’ll have to make, Miz Shelby.” He’d relaxed now and was baiting her. “You can tear it down, I guess. Or…enjoy it.” One eyebrow rose as he spoke. She watched it in the mirror, wondering if that were the right or left brow. Hard to get it straight in a mirror. Sort of.

  “You’re disgusting, Mr. McClain.”

  “I don’t believe you mean that, Miz Shelby. I believe you’re thinking about it.” He stretched his arm out along the back of the love seat.

  She knew what he meant, thinking about it. She’d never admit he was right. Martin and her on the Battenburg lace….

  “So maybe you’ll decide to just make the best of it.” His voice was soft, sultry. He tentatively moved his hand from the upholstery a few inches toward her, mentally calculating which direction, how far, in reverse. Making his move in a mirror was more complicated than doing it the usual way. Every time he dealt with this woman, there was some kind of challenge. But he wasn’t a man known for backing down. He hadn’t planned to touch her. But the sparks they struck off each other lit a hot flame in him,
and damned if he was going to continue to ignore it. He’d been ignoring too much too long. He was hungry—for a taste of something imported.

  Martin saw his hand touch the top of her head, felt his fingers comb through the silky hair, trail down to her shoulder. The pale skin displayed by the wide boat neck of her black knit shirt was driving him crazy. From her shoulder, his hand moved delicately along her collarbone to her slender white neck. He felt a strong, erratic pulse in her throat. He also felt her jump just a little as he made contact with her beautiful skin. She didn’t pull away—not with her body, not with her eyes. But her eyelids did flutter a little. That told Martin he was affecting her. Every sensation in his own body, and there were many, told him she was affecting him, and strongly.

  Midnight’s eyes were riveted to the mirror as she watched Martin McClain’s hand make love to her hair, collarbone and throat. Those long fingers, strong but not rough, could have belonged to a violinist. They were that talented. How could such a simple touch be so erotic? And how could watching it make it even more so? She didn’t know what he’d do next, but had an idea she’d enjoy it tremendously. Maybe right now she would take her hand and….

  “Hey! Anybody in here?”

  They jumped up from the love seat just as footsteps sounded on the stairs.

  Chapter Ten

  Daniel Martin McClain burst into the room after clattering up the wooden stairs.

  “Geez, Dad. What’s wrong? You look weird.”

  “Nothing’s wrong, Daniel, except you’re supposed to be at Joe’s. What’s up with you?” He stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and side-stepped behind a large box as he spoke.

  “Um, Dad, I told you I had a computer thing to do today. Remember? Geez.” He rolled his eyes as only a teenager can do.

  “A computer thing, sure. That pretty much describes your life. Why are you here?”