Chance opened the door the rest of the way, and as he did, it revealed a slim woman sitting in the visitor’s chair. His heart stopped for second, and then did three fast beats to catch up. Sadie Jenkins...
“Hi, Chance.”
She wore a pair of gray dress pants paired with a pink cashmere sweater that brought out the same shade of pink on her cheeks. Did women plan these things? Her knees were pressed together, a pad of paper on her lap. She tried to smile, then gave up. She was the same petite, freckled brunette who had left his brother at the altar five years ago...and Chance wasn’t entirely blameless in that, either. Her hair was longer now—tousled curls that tumbled around her shoulders—and she rose halfway and put out her hand.
“You’re back,” he said woodenly, taking her hand. He’d meant to give her a perfunctory shake, but he didn’t let go in time, and she tugged her fingers free.
“Close the door, would you?” Mayor Scott said, and Chance swung it shut behind him without looking back. It closed louder than necessary, and he shot the mayor an incredulous look. Chance didn’t like surprises—especially the personal kind—and the mayor knew exactly how personal this was. The entire town of Comfort Creek knew—they’d all been at the wedding that didn’t happen.
“Now, I know there’s a bit of history between you,” the mayor went on quickly. “I’m trusting we can get past that. I’ve hired Miss Jenkins to be the events coordinator for the remembrance ceremony.”
Sadie had left town five years ago on the morning she was supposed to marry Chance’s brother, Noah. Chance hadn’t forgiven her for that disappearing act yet.
“Are you serious, sir?”
“She comes highly recommended,” the older man replied. He pulled out a wad of tissues and wiped his nose. “She also has a wealth of experience.”
Chance glanced over at Sadie, eyeing her for a moment. He was angry—that was easier to deal with than the more complex emotions swarming beneath the surface. Because in those five years, she hadn’t contacted him...not that she owed him anything, exactly. He shouldn’t have gone to her house the night before the wedding. He shouldn’t have stood with her on the porch, talking late into the evening. He shouldn’t have reached out and touched that tendril of hair that hung down her neck...
“We’re all professionals here,” the mayor went on, his tone chilling noticeably. “I’m sure we can get a job done. You two will need to work together.”
Mayor Scott was Chance’s boss, and Chance didn’t actually get to quibble over whom the mayor hired for event planning. He knew that, he just couldn’t believe that of all people to choose, the mayor would choose the woman who had broken his brother Noah’s heart—the reason Noah had been so eager to join the army. No one knew the truth, though, that before Sadie took off, Chance had almost kissed her. And he suspected that if it weren’t for that moment of weakness, if he hadn’t confused her, she might have gone through with the wedding and Noah might still be alive. Noah’s death was utterly senseless. He’d left Comfort Creek to go lick his wounds, and while he was stationed overseas, he’d been shot in a routine exercise by friendly fire. Where was the meaning in that?
“Chief?” Both Mayor Scott and Sadie were looking at him now. He’d been silent for a few beats, and he inwardly grimaced.
“Yes, sir, of course,” Chance replied with a nod. “We’re all professionals.”
“Great.” The mayor beamed one of those politically golden smiles of his, and folded his hands in front of him. “Because this remembrance ceremony is important to our entire town. These young men were ours, and we are forever indebted to them for the freedom we enjoy. I want this ceremony to reflect our gratefulness, and our respect. Comfort Creek sent them out with fanfare, and we will never forget—” The older man’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, and blinked back a mist of tears. “I know you feel the same.”
Mayor Scott had three pictures around the office of his son, Ryan, ranging in age from his first day of kindergarten to him as a fully grown man in army dress uniform. Chance had the same kinds of photos around his home: the picture of him and his brother as kids, arms around each other’s shoulders as they squinted into the camera on some family vacation; the snapshot from his graduation from police academy where his brother was giving him a noogie; the picture of Noah in army uniform, duffel bag at his feet. It was hard to encapsulate an entire person in a few pictures, but he’d tried nonetheless. It was as if the pictures helped to hold those memories together, remind the world that this man had mattered.
“I appreciate this opportunity, Mayor Scott,” Sadie said. “We’ll put together a program that honors these men and their families. You’ve lost more than we can comprehend, sir.”
“So has Chance,” the mayor said with a nod. “Ryan and Noah, Terrance and Michael—they all deserve to be remembered.” He glanced at his watch. “I apologize for doing this, but I have a meeting in about ten minutes with the ladies complaining about noisy garbage collection.” He tapped a pen on a pad of paper. “So let’s meet next week and see where we are. I’ve already gone over some of my expectations with Miss Jenkins, and I’m sure she can fill you in, Chance.”
So that’s where things stood—the mayor was now planning this event with Sadie. While he’d never been keen on doing this ceremony, he didn’t like being squeezed out, either.
Chance rose and gave a curt nod. “I’m sure she can.”
He hoped his dry tone wasn’t as obvious to them as it was to himself. Sadie gathered up some papers and tucked them into a leather bag, then rose, too.
“Thank you, sir,” Sadie said with a smile, but it slipped when she saw Chance’s expression. Her hazel gaze met his for a split second, and then she looked away. He could tell that he was making her uncomfortable, but she didn’t deserve all the blame.
“We’ll talk later, sir,” Chance said with a sigh, then pulled open the door and gestured for Sadie to go ahead of him. He wasn’t a complete Neanderthal.
Chance shut the door behind him, and as he passed Brenda’s desk, she mouthed “sorry” at him. She’d known exactly what had been waiting for him in there, and she hadn’t given him any warning. It wasn’t her fault, though. Like Sadie, apparently, her loyalties were with the man who paid her. He gave her a small smile and tapped her desktop lightly with this tips of his fingers in reply as he walked past. It wasn’t full-out forgiveness, just acknowledgment of her tough position.
They paused at the coatrack and took their coats. She had a gray, woolen dress coat that came to her knees, and she pulled a pink scarf from the pocket and wrapped it around her neck twice. All without looking at him. Sadie passed in front of him out of the office and her low-heeled boots echoed against the tile-floored hallway. She didn’t say a word as they made their way back down the wooden staircase side by side.
When they reached the bottom, she turned toward him.
“It’s good to see you, Chance,” she said quietly, but her voice still carried through the empty halls.
“Is it? I got the feeling you didn’t want to see me again.” He couldn’t say that he was glad to see her in the least, because he wasn’t. He was supposed to be getting over her, not stepping back into that mire of emotion. However, the last thing Chance needed was to have everyone in the town hall listen to this conversation. “Let’s go outside to talk,” he said, gesturing toward the main doors. She nodded her agreement, and he opened the door to let her pass in front of him into the cold, winter air.
Sadie was still cute—why did he have to notice that? She came up to just past his shoulder and the scent of her perfume brought back a flood of memories. Sadie’s laugh, Sadie’s jokes, the way Sadie used to tip her head onto Noah’s shoulder, and how Chance’s insides had roiled with jealousy. His twin brother’s fiancée had been out of his league from the start. She was the woman that Chance had measured all others against...except he hadn’t intended
to ruin his brother’s happiness, or chase his brother’s bride out of town.
Chance followed her out the door, then stopped on the sidewalk. She turned back, green-flecked eyes meeting his with irritation. She hitched her bag up on her shoulder.
“So you still won’t forgive me?” she asked. “It’s been five years!”
“He died, Sadie.” There was no making this up to Noah. His brother was gone, and they were both to blame for that.
* * *
“Would you have rather I’d married him?” she demanded.
Sadie stepped back as a woman in a puffy green coat passed them and disappeared into town hall. She pasted a smile onto her face, hoping that it covered the rising emotion inside of her. Someone in a pickup truck called, “Morning, Chief!” as the vehicle rumbled past. There was no privacy on the streets of Comfort Creek.
She’d been afraid to come back because she knew that she’d let down the entire Morgan family. When Noah had proposed, he’d had the thrilled support of his brother and parents. She knew some women who married men whose families hadn’t been terribly thrilled about the wedding, but that hadn’t been her experience with the Morgans. They’d welcomed her with open arms. Her rejection of Noah would have felt like a rejection of all of them. But how could she marry Noah when she’d experienced more in one unfortunate moment with his brother than she’d ever felt for Noah?
But she’d come back to Comfort Creek anyway, because while she’d dashed out on her wedding, she didn’t want to be the kind of woman who ran away from conflict. Comfort Creek was her home, too, but standing here on Birch Street with a lump in her throat wasn’t exactly how she’d hoped to do this.
“Let me buy you a coffee at the diner,” Chance said. “It’s cold out here.” He met her gaze, at least. Lucy’s Diner was just down the street by the highway, walking distance from town hall.
“Alright,” she agreed.
Sadie had expected this to be difficult. When her grandmother told her that Mayor Scott needed an events planner, the timing was perfect—for her at least. At that point, she hadn’t realized that the event would be a commemorative ceremony for her ex-fiancé. That was uncomfortable, to say the least. Was she the right person for the job? Would Comfort Creek be angry or supportive? But the mayor assured her that he didn’t see a conflict of interest. He needed a qualified event planner, and he trusted her to have the right “feel” for the town.
When the mayor told her that she’d be working with Chance Morgan, she’d almost refused the job. She hadn’t spoken to anyone but her grandmother since she’d left town, and she’d prayed long and hard about the job offer. But home was calling to her, and she felt as if this was what God wanted her to do. Still, before Comfort Creek could be home in every sense, she had to face the people she’d hurt and make her apologies. She’d have to face Chance, and that knot of emotion he’d caused inside of her... It wouldn’t be easy, but when God pushed her forward into character growth, some pain was to be expected. She’d just hoped that God would have prepared some hearts before she arrived.
As they headed down the street, Sadie evaluated Chance out of the corner of her eye. He was still the same tall guy she remembered, but he looked stronger, somehow. Maybe he’d bulked up a little—could that be it? Or just a few years more life experience. He was police chief now—that was a considerable step up in his career. He’d been up for the position just before the wedding, so this shouldn’t be a surprise. But the years seemed to have aged him. There were lines around his eyes that hadn’t been there before, and his sandy-blond hair was turning silver at the sides. But he was only thirty-eight—six years older than her. Stress, maybe? In every other way, he was the same old Chance—tall, fit, serious. They’d been close back then, but by the look in his eye now, all that was in the past.
“You really think you’re the one to plan a ceremony in Noah’s honor?” Chance asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“No, I think you are,” she countered. “But Mayor Scott says you’ve fought him every step of the way.”
“And that’s my prerogative. You didn’t even show up for the funeral.”
Sadie heard the resentment in his voice.
“I didn’t think it would be right to come to the funeral,” she replied. “After I left the way I did.”
“Maybe you were right.”
“I sent your parents a sympathy card, though.” She’d spent an hour standing in a card shop looking for the right sentiment. She’d been heartbroken, too, when she heard about Noah’s death. She’d loved him—even if marrying him would have been a mistake. The world had been a better place with Noah in it.
“I saw it.”
His tone was still wooden, and irritation simmered inside of her. What had he expected her to do? She wasn’t part of the family. She was probably the least favorite person of the Morgans in general. Showing up at the funeral would have been in bad taste—it would have drawn attention away from Noah and put her into the spotlight. But more than that, was she supposed to stay away indefinitely? Comfort Creek didn’t belong to Chance Morgan; he wasn’t the only one to have grown up here.
“Chance, it’s been five years.” She eyed him cautiously. “I’m sorry about the way I handled things, but marrying Noah wasn’t going to work. I should have figured it out sooner, but I didn’t. I couldn’t marry him.”
“Ending things would have been fine,” he retorted. “But you didn’t face him. You didn’t explain anything. You just walked out. We all showed up at the church, and I stood next to my brother at the front, waiting for you to come down the aisle. It was a full forty-five minutes before your grandmother arrived and told us you weren’t coming. Do you know what that did to him? Do you know what it’s like to get that kind of news in front of a church full of family and friends?”
Sadie felt that old swell of guilt—she’d lived with it every day since she’d run away from her wedding. She’d been dressed in that beaded gown, her veil already affixed to her updo. She’d been putting on her shoes, ready to go to the church when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and it all came crashing in on her. She couldn’t be Mrs. Noah Morgan. She’d thought that what she’d been feeling for her
fiancé’s brother was a crush—something that would pass. Then, on that porch the night before, he’d admitted to having felt the same thing for her...
The right thing would have been to go down to the church and explain it in person, but she knew herself—she might have walked down that aisle anyhow, just to keep everyone happy, and she couldn’t risk that. So she’d changed into a pair of jeans, grabbed her suitcase that was already packed for a Caribbean honeymoon, and called a cab. Nana assured her that she’d explain.
“I’m sorry,” Sadie said. “But there was no kind or easy way to call off a wedding the morning it was supposed to happen. I made my peace with that a long time ago. At least I didn’t marry him and break his heart after two kids and a mortgage.”
Lucy’s Diner was located at the corner of Birch Street and the highway, an old brick building with a red roof and a large sculpture of a bull that stood between the highway traffic and the parking lot. Lucy’s Diner had been in that exact spot for the last sixty years, when Comfort Creek was nothing more than a gas station, a church and a grain elevator, and as they approached the front door, Sadie heaved a sigh. This was past the point of discomfort, and the last thing she wanted was to sit in a diner and rehash old hurts.
“Do you really want that coffee?” she asked as they stopped in front of the diner. “We could do this another time. No pressure.”
“Of course, there’s pressure,” he retorted. “We have to work together. We have a deadline.”
He was right about that. Chance pulled open the door and stepped back. What was with him and those perfect manners? He’d always been like this—proper, disciplined, always the cop. She sighed and walked into the warm
th, then headed toward a booth in the back. He followed, accepting a couple of menus from the waitress on his way past.
Once they were settled with glasses of ice water in front of them and their coats piled beside them, Chance leaned forward in his chair.
“I have to ask this—” Chance swallowed. “Was it because of me? I was out of line that night on the porch. I shouldn’t have confused you like that. I should have—”
“Confused me?” Sadie shook her head. “You make me sound like a half-wit. I wasn’t confused or in a muddle, Chance.”
His face colored, but he’d hit a nerve there. That was a question she’d asked herself a hundred times since. Had she dumped Noah because of Chance? Was that moment of butterflies and tenderness enough to unhinge a five-year relationship with a good man?
“I just...” Her stomach had flipped. Her breath had caught. She’d stared up into Chance’s blue eyes and she’d felt weak in the knees—none of which she’d ever felt for Noah. But there was no way she could confess that to Chance.
“It wasn’t because of you,” she said, and that was the truth. “Noah and I weren’t strong enough together. That’s all.”
She’d wanted what Noah had to offer. He was a carpenter who was doing very well for himself in Comfort Creek. He had a large extended family who were close and supportive. He’d already built their future home on an acreage outside of town. He’d offered her everything she thought she wanted...
The waitress arrived just then, and Chance ordered a coffee and a piece of pie.
“Just coffee for me, thanks,” she said with a tight smile.
The waitress left them in peace once more and Sadie fiddled with the napkin-wrapped cutlery in front of her. She’d been to this diner countless times over the years, but the first visit that she could remember had been with her nana.
At the age of eight, her mother had brought her to Comfort Creek to visit Nana for a few days. That night, Sadie watched from the upstairs window of Nana’s house as her mother loaded a suitcase into the back of her musician boyfriend’s car. She remembered being confused. Why was her mother outside at this time of night? Why was Angelo here? Her mom had looked up, seen Sadie in the window and blown her a kiss. Then she’d hopped into the front seat and the car roared off.
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