She walked around a display of box fans and past bins containing nuts and bolts, electrical wire and plumbing supplies, and emerged into the alley, two stores away from her own back door. She hadn’t taken more than half a dozen steps when she stopped in her tracks.
That dusty-blue Chevy was sitting in her dad’s old parking space. Noah leaned against the tailgate, his arms folded and his ankles crossed, giving the illusion that he’d been waiting for a long time.
Although the sun was still shining on the other side of the brick buildings lining Division Street, dusk had fallen here in the alley. Shadows stretched from end to end, deeper and darker in the narrow spaces between buildings, in doorways and beneath stairs.
“Where’s your dad’s truck?” Noah asked, letting his arms fall to his sides.
“I sold it two days ago.” Her voice sounded normal. At least something functioned normally. “Noah, what are you doing here?”
Noah admitted that it was a legitimate question. The truth was, he hadn’t planned to come here tonight. When he’d left the orchard after dinner, he’d assumed he had another twelve hours before he began laying the foundation for a future with Lacey. Then he’d seen her when he’d turned onto First Street. And now here he was, twelve hours ahead of schedule.
She’d exchanged her navy slacks for gray shorts that hugged her hips and showcased a pair of legs that should have been outlawed. He’d never met another woman who caused his hormones this much commotion just by walking down the sidewalk. He could see the butterfly tattoo on her right foot from here. It matched the yellow nail polish on her toes. Another tiny butterfly was hidden beneath the waistband of her shorts. He remembered it well.
Before every last drop of the blood rushing through his ears ended up south of there, he strolled closer. Lacey held her ground. Damn, she was something.
“We can’t just pick up where we left off, Noah. Real life isn’t like a fairy tale.” She held up one hand. “Stop right there.”
He didn’t stop until the tips of his shoes touched the tips of hers, their bodies so close he felt her heat and she felt his. She wanted to know what he was doing here. That much he knew. He was going to kiss her. And, if he was lucky, she was going to let him.
He didn’t say anything as he placed a hand on either side of her face, his fingers splaying wide in her hair, his thumbs resting lightly along the outer edges of her cheekbones. Her eyes looked violet in this light, blurring before his as he tipped her head up slightly. Slowly, he covered her mouth with his. He heard her breath catch. And then her eyes fluttered closed.
Her lips were warm and soft and wet, and tasted like cinnamon candy, her favorite. Sampled this way, it was his favorite, too. He moved his mouth over her sweet lips, again and again and again, a gentle persuasion that somehow translated into an unspoken how do you do.
It was just supposed to be a kiss, and yet it made sense out of nothing, gave rhyme to reason and changed the beating rhythm of his heart. Heat coursed through him, converging at the very center of him, tempting him to wrap his arms around her and fit her soft curves where need was demanding attention. My, was he tempted.
For what seemed like an eternity, she remained motionless, her face tipped up, her mouth open slightly beneath his, breathlessly accepting his kiss. Then he felt it, the tentative touch of her fingertips as she placed her hands over his. He offered up a silent prayer of thanksgiving for granting him this moment.
He’d kissed Lacey a thousand times, but he’d never kissed her quite like this. It might have gone down in history for its richness, its purity and its sweetness. All the while, their only points of contact were their lips, his hands on her face and her hands on his.
Muffled laughter and what sounded a little like a stampede of elephants ended the kiss. When Lacey opened her eyes, she saw those teenage boys again. They were running through the alley, trying their darnedest to keep from snickering.
They weren’t the only ones taking this shortcut. A slender young woman stepped aside, quietly letting the guys pass. There was something about her that held Lacey spellbound. It was hard to tell how old she was in this light. She wore jeans and a black T-shirt. The bill of a dark baseball cap was pulled low over her forehead. Unlike the boys, she kept her head down as she hurried by.
Realizing that she and Noah were still standing toe-to-toe, her face still in his big hands, her hands still on his, Lacey finally came to her senses. She took a step back. Her arms fell to her sides and so did his. They dragged in deep breaths, as if they’d forgotten to breathe until now.
“Well,” she said.
His grin reminded them both of his sore lip.
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
“What, my lip?”
Okay, the Noah she knew was back. She tilted her head abruptly and slanted him a look that spoke volumes.
Noah shrugged those amazing shoulders of his. Running his hand over his jaw, he said, “Honestly? I forgot about my lip until now. That was great therapy. I’d like to try it again.”
The need to flee had returned. This time she stood her ground and said, “But we’re two different people now.”
“You’re still you and I’m still me. It’s safe to say a passion like ours hasn’t evaporated into thin air.”
“Now you’re playing it safe?” she asked.
“Leave it to you to choose that word out of all the others to call me on.”
At least sparring with him was in her comfort zone. Sharing sweet kisses that made her feel beautiful and wish she believed in fairy tales like the ones she’d read to April’s twins last night wasn’t.
Tomorrow she was going to the Sullivan household where she would assume the role of Joey’s temporary nanny. Before that occurred, there was something she needed to say, a point she had to make. “We can’t pick up where we left off, Noah. We can’t go back. Nobody can.”
Widening his stance slightly, he rested his hands lightly on his hips and met her gaze. “I was going to wait until tomorrow to talk to you about this, but you might as well know I have no intention of going back to the beginning.”
“At least we agree on some—”
“And you’re right. We can’t just pick up where we left off over two years ago, or last year, either.”
She drew her eyebrows down, a no-no according to the beauty magazines. She forgot why. “Then what was that kiss?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said, his grin slow and sincere. “Years from now we’ll look back on this day. Because today is the day we began anew.”
He gave her that smile again, the one that reminded her of an alley cat stretching languidly in a glorious patch of sunshine. Darned if her insides didn’t stretch a little, too.
“That kiss,” he said, his gaze settling on her mouth, “was the beginning of our new beginning.”
There was something about the way he’d spoken that sounded like the prequel to happily-ever-after. She really needed different reading material. Nobody lived happily ever after. If people were lucky, they lived happily-sometimes-after. That brought her back to the beginning.
While she was still standing there, her heart speeding up and slowing down by turns, an Oldsmobile with an engine knock pulled up alongside Noah’s Chevy. April threw the gearshift into Park and cut the engine.
Each of the Avery brood had learned to drive in that car. Although the mishaps and the wear and tear showed, it still had a few good years and a lot of miles left in it. With the youngest off to London for the summer, April’s mother-in-law had assured Lacey that she was more than happy to let her borrow it. That was the kind of good people there were in Orchard Hill, in Michigan, in the world. They were “It takes a village” people—kind, thoughtful ordinary people who made others feel just a little extraordinary.
April was opening the door of the car she was dropping off for Lacey to drive, as her sister-in law pulled up in a shiny new SUV. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said, smiling at Lacey and Noah.
Had everyone seen that kiss?
April’s sister-in-law got out, too. With a knowing little smile that was an answer to Lacey’s silent question, Gabby Avery pushed her chin-length blond hair behind her ears and opened the back of her SUV. Suddenly, Noah was there, hauling out the for-sale signs they were going to place in the tavern’s front and back windows.
The man had a rangy physique—there was no doubt about it. His jeans were faded at the major stress points: knees, pockets and fly. His split lip lent the ultimate authenticity to his bad-boy persona.
“You didn’t interrupt, April,” he said as he carried the signs past her and leaned them against the tavern’s back door. “I was leaving. Tell Jay hi for me, okay?”
“I will, Noah, thanks.”
His gaze rested on Lacey for a heartbeat longer than the others. “Do you need a ride in the morning?”
Lacey shook her head and managed to say, “I’ve got it covered.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
With a swagger that made all three of them salivate, he sauntered to his pickup and got in. In no time at all he’d started the engine and backed out of his parking spot.
Gabby Avery was ten years older than Lacey and April, and had been happily married to Jay’s oldest brother for eight years. Obviously, that hadn’t prevented her from appreciating the view. She fanned herself with one hand and said, “What on earth was that?”
For a moment Lacey paused, on the brink of the precipice that was the rest of her life. Before her was the unknown with all its wonder and risk. She could turn her back on all of it. Or she could take the next step into the unknown. The choice was hers.
In her mind she saw herself testing for solid footing with the tips of her toes. “If I’m not mistaken,” Lacey said, watching until Noah’s taillights disappeared around the corner, “that was the beginning of the new beginning of Noah and me.”
“Ow.”
“What happened?” April asked.
“It was just my finger,” her sister-in-law said. “Don’t worry. I don’t use that one much anyway.”
The two of them were at the front window in Bell’s Tavern, trying their darnedest to fasten the for-sale sign with its fancy Avery Realty logo and phone number to the window frame. The board wasn’t heavy; it was cumbersome, bulky and a tad unruly. Lacey had tried to help. When it became apparent that she was only getting in the way, she’d left the installation to the experts.
“Ow.” This time it was April who pinched her poor finger.
Smiling to herself, Lacey thought that perhaps experts wasn’t the proper term. The lights were on in the tavern and the back door was propped open. After casually checking the window locks and finding them all intact, Lacey wandered to the pool table in the back of the room.
She hadn’t been down here since Officer Pratt had taken a look around. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about it. She just hadn’t quite gotten up the nerve to venture down here alone. She wondered if Officer Pratt had been right, and whoever had been here was long gone by now.
Far away from the thumps and thuds at the front window, she peeked under the pool table. The sleeping bag was still there, pretty much where it had been the other night. It was difficult to tell if it had been slept in, but the water bottle was gone. A partially empty bag of cashews and a half-full bottle of green tea were now beside the sleeping bag.
Biting her lip to stifle the little buzz of excitement running through her, she cast another look to the front window to make sure April and Gabby weren’t looking. Confident that the coast was clear, she swooped down for a closer look at the little nest that had been created here.
A strand of hair on the edge of the bedroll caught her eye. Grasping it between her thumb and forefinger, she brought it closer for a better look. Lacey’s hair skimmed her shoulders. This strand was twice that long.
Her Houdini had been back. Once again she’d come and gone without breaking a window or leaving any clue as to how she was getting in and out.
Little by little, Lacey felt as if she was becoming acquainted with her guest. Although she was still no closer to discovering her Houdini’s actual identity, Lacey knew she wore pink lip gloss and had long brown hair. She didn’t leave a mess, and apparently she liked healthy snacks.
She must be very brave to live as she was living. Lacey was beginning to think that perhaps she wasn’t the only woman in Orchard Hill poised on the brink of beginning anew.
Chapter Six
Traffic on Old Orchard Highway wasn’t heavy at twenty minutes after eight on Friday morning. The window on the passenger side of the car Lacey was borrowing from April’s in-laws wouldn’t go all the way up, and the seat only latched in two places, but the car started on the first try, the brakes were new and the radio got fantastic reception.
It had rained during the night. Now the sun was shining, turning the moisture on the ground into vapors that shimmered like radio waves in the distance. At the River Bridge, she slipped on a pair of sunglasses, cranked up the radio and crested a hill, leaving her stomach behind.
That might have been nerves. Or anticipation.
Before she fell asleep last night, she’d taken a personality quiz in a fashion magazine. The twenty questions were an eclectic mix of random information: How many letters were in her name? What was worse—spiders or snakes? Did she dream in color? Had she ever had an encounter with an alien or settled a dispute using rock, paper and scissors? That sort of thing. According to the “scientific” results, she wasn’t a morning person. She’d known that before sharpening her pencil, but a little validation never hurt anybody.
Being a night owl hadn’t prevented her from jumping up at the crack of dawn this morning and preparing to begin her new job. Nothing could have prevented her from dreaming about new beginnings and Noah’s kiss. She couldn’t help wondering what the day would bring.
Just then, the orchard came into view. The first driveway followed the east property line and ended in a large clearing that bordered the stone cider house and the whitewashed bakery barn and the shed where homemade apple cider and doughnuts were sold to the throngs of people who swarmed here every autumn. Lacey turned into the second drive. Secluded and private, it led to the big Victorian house at the top of the hill.
Pea gravel crunched beneath her tires as she pulled up beside Noah’s truck. She finger-combed her hair and straightened her clothes. With everything she would need to begin her new job stacked neatly in her arms, she went to the back door.
One thing she didn’t have was a spare hand to knock. “Hello?” she called.
Hearing no answering call telling her to come in, she stood for a moment looking through the screen. The coffeemaker was gurgling noisily on the counter in the kitchen. A chair had been left out. It appeared to hold the spillover of baby clothes from the table.
“Anybody home?” she said softly, in case Joey was sleeping.
Of course they were home. The door was open and the coffee was brewing and Marsh, Reed and Noah’s vehicles were all in the driveway.
“Hello?” she called again.
After a little finagling to free one hand, she let herself in. Now that she was inside, she could hear faint masculine voices. They seemed to be coming from the front of the house. Leaving the bowl she was returning on the counter and her purse, camera, library books and the little gift she’d brought stacked neatly on the table, she went in search of whoever was in charge.
“Marsh, is that you?” Reed called.
Expecting Lacey any minute, Noah had been on his way to the kitchen, but hearing Reed calling, he stuck his arms into the sleeves of his clean T-shirt and cut across the living room instead. He found Reed sitting behind his desk in his home office, Joey sucking noisily on his bottle.
“I just met Marsh on the front stairs,” Noah said. “Do you need something?”
“Go get him. Tell him it’s important.”
Noah had taken Joey’s four-o’clock feeding, but t
he tone of Reed’s voice was quickly dissolving his grogginess. Marsh must have heard it, too, because he was suddenly in the doorway beside Noah.
“An email just came in from that P.I. Sam Lafferty,” Reed said. “Take a look at this.”
Marsh and Noah crowded behind Reed’s desk and looked at his computer screen. The three of them practically knocked heads as they leaned closer to the monitor where there were several photographs of a dark-haired woman. While they were studying the pictures, the phone on the desk rang.
Reed answered, listened intently and promptly said, “He and Noah are both here, Sam. I’m putting you on speakerphone.” He pushed a button and, when Joey started to fuss, reached for the forgotten bottle and offered it to the baby once again. Joey forgave him as soon as he had the nipple in his mouth.
“The pictures on your screen are of a woman named Julia Monroe,” Sam said. “She just went into a little bungalow on a tree-lined street here in Charleston. Of the six women with that name I found in West Virginia, three are in the right age bracket. This is the only brunette. If she’s not the right Julia Monroe, there are more in Florida, Alabama and Tennessee. There are likely others but I’m starting here because you said she had a soft Southern accent and that she mentioned growing up in West Virginia. Is it her, Marsh?”
Marsh studied the screen. “It might be. Her hair was long when I knew her.”
Marsh took a closer look at the pictures of a woman with extremely short hair. Once again, Sam’s voice sounded over the speaker. “A new hairstyle can completely change a woman’s appearance. Look carefully at her face, her clothes and her build, anything that might trigger recognition.”
“I can’t be sure from this angle,” Marsh said. “Can you get a picture from the front?”
Just then Noah noticed a movement in the doorway. Lacey paused there, taking everything in.
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