It Had to Be You and All Our Tomorrows

by Irene Hannon

  “Absolutely not.” Allison peeked into the oven to check the blueberry muffins, then turned back to her twin. “Tall, handsome, dark hair, deep brown eyes. And you know what? I think he’s single.”

  “Yeah?” Abby paused, her tone interested. “How old is he?”

  Allison shrugged. “Old. Thirty-something, probably. But for an older guy, he’s awesome.”

  “Let me serve him, okay?” Abby cajoled.

  “Hey, I saw him first!” Allison protested.

  “Yes, but you had your chance to talk to him last night. It’s my turn. That’s only fair, isn’t it, Aunt Maggie?”

  Maggie smiled and shook her head. “You two are getting awfully worked up about someone who will be checking out in an hour or two.”

  Allison sighed dramatically. “True. But we can dream, can’t we? Maybe he’s a rich tycoon. Or maybe he’s lost his beloved wife and is retracing the route they traveled on their honeymoon. Or maybe he’s a Hollywood producer scouting the area for a new movie. Or...”

  “Or maybe you better watch those muffins before they get too brown,” Maggie reminded her with a nod toward the oven.

  Allison sighed. “Oh, Aunt Maggie, you have no imagination when it comes to men.”

  “I have plenty of imagination. Fortunately, I also have a good dose of common sense.”

  “But common sense is so...so boring,” Allison complained.

  “He just came in,” Abby reported breathlessly, peering through a crack in the kitchen door. She grabbed the pot of coffee before Allison could get to it, and with a triumphant “My turn,” sailed through the door.

  Maggie smiled and shook her head. One thing for sure. There was never a dull moment with the twins. At eighteen, the world for them was just one big adventure waiting to happen. And she encouraged their “seize the moment” philosophy—within reason, of course. Because she knew that life would impose its own limitations soon enough.

  When Abby reentered the kitchen a few minutes later, she shut the door and leaned against it, her face flushed.

  “Well?” Allison prompted.

  “Wow!”

  “See? Didn’t I tell you? What’s he wearing?” Allison asked eagerly.

  “A dark gray suit with a white shirt and a maroon paisley tie.”

  “A suit? Nobody ever wears a suit here. He must be a business tycoon or something.”

  “Sorry to interrupt with such a mundane question, but what does he want for breakfast?” Maggie inquired wryly.

  “Scrambled eggs, wheat toast and orange juice,” Abby recited dreamily.

  Maggie was beginning to regret that she’d missed this mysterious stranger’s arrival. But the church council meeting had run late, and their unexpected guest had apparently retired for the night by the time she arrived home. It was unusual for a younger, apparently single, man to stay with them. Most of their guests were couples. Maybe she ought to check this guy out herself, she thought, as she placed two of the freshly baked blueberry muffins in a basket. Just for grins, of course. It would be interesting to see how she rated this “older guy” the twins were raving about.

  Maggie picked up the basket of muffins and a glass of orange juice and headed for the door. “Okay, you two, now the mature woman of the world will give you her expert opinion.”

  The twins giggled.

  “Oh, Aunt Maggie. You’ve never been anywhere but Missouri, Boston and Maine,” Abby reminded her.

  Maggie felt a sudden, unexpected pang, but she kept her smile firmly in place. “True. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t had my romantic adventures.”

  “When?” Allison demanded pertly.

  When, indeed? There’d only been one romantic adventure in her life. And that had ended badly. But she’d never told the girls much about it. Only when they reached the age when boys suddenly became fascinating and they’d begun plying her with questions about her own romantic past had she even mentioned it. And then only in the vaguest terms. Yes, it had been serious, she’d told them. In fact, they’d been engaged. But it just hadn’t worked out. And that was all they ever got out of her, despite their persistent questions. She never wanted them to know that it was because of their arrival in her life that her one romance had failed. They’d had a hard enough time adjusting to the loss of their parents; she never wanted to lay the guilt of her shattered romance on them, as well. And she wasn’t about to start now. “I think I’ll remain a woman of mystery,” she declared over her shoulder as she pushed through the door to the sound of their giggles.

  Maggie paused on the other side, taking a moment to compose herself. For some reason their innocent teasing had touched a nerve. She’d always claimed she had no time for romance, that she was perfectly happy living her life solo. She’d pretty much convinced them of her sincerity through the years. She’d almost convinced herself, as well. In many ways, her life was easier this way. Only occasionally did she yearn for the life that might have been. But she’d learned not to waste time on impractical “what-iffing.” Her life was the way it was, and for the most part she was happy and content and fulfilled. The Lord had blessed her in many ways, and she was grateful for those blessings. In fact, she had more in the “blessings” department than most people.

  Her spirits renewed, she glanced around the small dining room. All the tables were filled, but it was easy to spot their “mystery” guest. He sat alone, angled away from her, his face almost completely obscured by the daily paper he was reading. Yet she could tell that for once her assessment matched that of the girls’. They’d been right on target in their description of his physical attributes. He was impeccably dressed, his dark hair neatly trimmed above the collar of his crisp white shirt. His long legs stretched out beneath the table, and his hands seemed strong and capable.

  As Maggie started across the room, the man lowered the paper and reached for his coffee, giving her a good view of his strong, distinguished—and very familiar—profile.

  It was Jake!

  Even as her mind struggled to reconcile his presence with the astronomical odds of him appearing in her dining room, her heart accepted it. She knew that profile—the firm chin, the classic nose, the well-shaped lips. It was him.

  Maggie felt suddenly as if someone had delivered a well-placed blow to her chest, knocking every bit of wind out of her lungs. Her step faltered and the color drained from her face. She had to escape, had to get back to the kitchen and regain some control, before he spotted her.

  But it was too late. As he lifted the coffee cup to his lips he glanced toward her, and their gazes connected—Maggie’s wide with shock, Jake’s changing in rapid succession from mild interest to curious to stunned.

  Jake stared at the red-haired woman standing less than ten feet away from him and his hand froze, the coffee cup halfway to his lips. His heart stopped, then raced on. Maggie!

  Maggie didn’t even realize her hands were shaking until the basket of muffins suddenly slipped out of her grasp. She tore her gaze from his and bent down, just as he rose to join her. Some of the juice sloshed out of the glass, leaving a sticky residue on her fingers as it formed a puddle on the floor. She looked at it helplessly, but a moment later Jake was beside her, wiping it up even as he retrieved a wayward muffin. Then he reached over and took her hand.

  Her startled gaze collided with his, their eyes only inches apart.

  “Let me,” he said softly, the husky cadence in his voice exactly the same as she remembered it. With difficulty she swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat as he carefully wiped the sticky juice off her fingers with the clean side of the napkin. She stared down numbly, watching his strong, bronzed hand gently hold hers. She used to love the way he touched her, she recalled, her breath lodging in her throat. His hands—possessive, sure, tender—could work magic. A sudden, unexpected spark shot through her, and in confusion sh
e jerked free of his grasp and rose unsteadily to her feet.

  He stood up, as well, and then gazed down at her, his eyes warm, a shadow of incredulity lingering in their depths.

  “Maggie.” The way he said her name, gently and with wonder, made her heart lurch into triple time. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Yes. It has.” A tremor ran through her voice, but she didn’t care. She was just grateful she could speak at all.

  “Is this your place?”

  “Yes. Listen, I’m sorry about the muffins and juice. I’ll go get you some more. Excuse me.” And then she turned and fled.

  Jake watched her go, aware for the first time that the two of them were drawing curious looks from the other guests. With one last glance toward the kitchen, he slowly turned and walked back to his table. His first inclination had been to follow Maggie, but he understood that she needed some time to adjust to this strange turn of events. He knew he did.

  Jake reached for his coffee, noting that his hand was trembling. He wasn’t surprised. A bizarre coincidence like this was more than a little unsettling. Only yesterday he’d been thinking of Maggie, and his dreams last night had been filled with her. Then he’d awakened to a reality that didn’t include her, reminding himself that she was part of his past. Until now.

  For twelve years, Jake had felt as if the two of them had unfinished business. Now, after all these years, it seemed he was being given a second chance to make amends. And he intended to take it. He didn’t expect her to welcome him back with open arms. But he hoped they could at least find some sense of resolution and inner peace.

  Peace wasn’t exactly the word Maggie was thinking as she burst through the kitchen door, breathless and pale. Her emotions were anything but peaceful. Her heart was banging against the wall of her chest as furiously as if she’d just finished a hundred-yard dash. She felt strangely light-headed. And more than a little annoyed. What was wrong with her? Why should a man whom she hadn’t seen in twelve years, who had walked out when she’d needed him most, still have such a powerful effect on her? It didn’t make any sense. And Maggie didn’t like things that didn’t make sense.

  “Aunt Maggie?” Allison’s concerned voice penetrated her thoughts, and she glanced up.

  “What’s wrong?” Abby asked, her face alarmed at her aunt’s pallor.

  Maggie forced herself to take a deep breath. “I’m fine. I just...well...that man you two have been talking about, I—I used to know him.”

  “You know him?” Allison repeated incredulously. “How? When?”

  “A long time ago. I haven’t seen him in years. It was just a...shock, that’s all. I’ll be okay in a minute.”

  Abby sent Allison a worried frown. Maggie never got rattled. “So who is he?” Abby persisted.

  Maggie walked over to the center island and put two new muffins in the basket, then filled a glass with orange juice, aware that her hand was shaking. She knew the twins would notice. She also knew they weren’t going to let her get away without explaining this uncharacteristic behavior. With a sigh, she turned to find them staring at her, their expressions intent—and concerned.

  “He’s a man I used to date...a long time ago.”

  Suddenly the light dawned on Allison’s face. Though Maggie teased them about her past beaux, as far as they knew she’d only been really serious about one man in her entire life. Certainly none since they could remember. And it would take someone who had once been important to her to make their aunt...well, come unglued.

  “Aunt Maggie, this is him, isn’t it?” Allison’s voice was slightly awed.

  “Him who?” Abby demanded.

  Allison turned to her twin, suddenly excited. “Him. You know, the guy Aunt Maggie was engaged to once.”

  Now it was Abby’s turn to look incredulous. “Aunt Maggie, is that true?”

  Maggie had always been glad that the twins had grown into insightful, perceptive young women. Until now. She might as well admit the truth, she thought with a sigh. They’d get it out of her sooner or later.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Wow!” Allison breathed.

  “Yeah, wow!” Abby echoed. “It’s so romantic!”

  Maggie could think of other words to describe it. Disruptive, for one. Upsetting, for another. Scary, for a third, although why that word popped into her mind she had no idea. She turned to the twins and gave them a stern look.

  “Now look, you two, the man is leaving shortly. It’s just sheer coincidence that he turned up on our doorstep last night. I’ll admit I was surprised. Shocked, even. But don’t make a big deal out of this.”

  “But Aunt Maggie, don’t you think it’s...well, like a movie or something, that he appeared out of the mist at your B&B after all these years? You know, where long-lost lovers are reunited and rekindle an old romance?” Abby asked dreamily.

  “First of all, we are not long-lost lovers. We didn’t get lost. We broke up. On purpose. And second, neither one of us has any interest in rekindling an old romance. I’m perfectly content with my life just as it is. And even though he’s not wearing a ring, Jake could very well have a wife and five kids somewhere.”

  “I’ll bet he doesn’t,” Allison predicted smugly.

  “Now why on earth would you say that?” Maggie demanded impatiently, turning to find the other twin peeking through the crack in the door.

  “Because he keeps looking this way, like he’s waiting for you.”

  “He probably just wants his orange juice,” Maggie pointed out, trying desperately to keep her voice from reflecting the turbulence of her emotions.

  As she picked up the glass and added it to the tray with the basket of muffins she could feel the twins’ gazes on her back, knew they were silently communicating with each other about this exciting development in their aunt’s lackluster love life. But in truth, she didn’t want to go back out there. Talking to Jake would only stir up old, painful memories best left at rest. Yet, refusing to see him would be childish. Their relationship was history, after all. Whatever they once felt for each other had long since evaporated. They would simply carry on a calm, mature conversation, and then she’d bid him farewell. She could handle that, she thought as she lifted the tray and walked toward the door.

  Couldn’t she?

  Chapter Two

  Jake was on his feet the moment Maggie stepped through the door, but when she was detained by guests at another table, he slowly sat back down. In a way he was grateful for their intervention, because as they engaged her with questions about local sights, he had a chance to look at her unobserved.

  She’d changed, he reflected, as his discerning gaze swept over her. She was still slender, her trim figure shown to good advantage in a pair of well-fitting khaki slacks and a green, long-sleeved cotton blouse that was neatly tucked in and secured with a hemp belt. But the girlish figure he remembered had changed subtly—and attractively—as she’d matured.

  His appreciative eyes moved to her hair. The vibrant red color had mellowed slightly, but was no less striking, he noted with pleasure. He’d always been partial to red hair, and Maggie’s was especially beautiful, shot through with gold highlights. Apparently she’d never quite tamed its waves. Despite her efforts to pull it sedately back, loose tendrils had escaped around her face, giving the no-nonsense style a winsome, feminine appeal. She still had her freckles, too, he observed with a smile, but they appeared to have faded slightly. He assumed she was grateful for that change, recalling how she’d always complained about them.

  But there was something else...different...about her, he realized. The Maggie he remembered had been dependent, always waiting for him to take the initiative. The woman he now observed seemed anything but dependent. She was gracious, poised and self-confident. A woman who not only took charge of things but was quite capable of taking care of hersel
f. It was a surprising—but intriguing—transformation.

  There was one thing, though, that hadn’t changed at all, he discovered a moment later when their gazes connected and his pulse flew into overdrive. He found her every bit as attractive as he had twelve years before. His spirits took a swift and surprisingly strong upswing—only to nosedive a moment later. Just because he felt the old chemistry didn’t mean she did. And even if she did, he doubted that she’d want to renew their friendship, let alone anything more. Why should she, after what he’d done to her twelve years ago? Yet, he couldn’t quite stifle the hope that suddenly surged through him.

  Maggie moved toward him then, and he stood as she joined him, noting the slight flush on her cheeks. One more thing that hadn’t changed, he tallied with pleasure. She still blushed. It was a quality he’d always found endearing.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d come back out,” he confessed quietly.

  She served the juice and muffins, avoiding his gaze. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  There was a moment of silence before he responded. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you hadn’t,” he told her, instead of replying to the question.

  She risked a glance at him then, praying that her fragile composure would hold. “That was a long time ago, Jake.” Much to her surprise—and relief—her voice was steady, and she congratulated herself for sounding so calm and controlled when her insides were churning.

  Jake eyed her speculatively, debating whether to pursue the subject. “Maybe so,” he responded carefully. “But some things are hard to forget.”

  A shadow crossed her eyes, come and gone so quickly he almost missed it. Anyone else would have. But once he had been keenly attuned to the nuances of her emotions. Apparently he still was. No matter what she said next, he knew that the hurt was still there, possibly buried so deeply in her heart even she didn’t realize it still existed. But it clearly did, and his gut twisted painfully as he came face-to-face with the lingering effects of his actions twelve years before.