The best man in the world wanted to marry her
But she couldn’t say yes...yet!
Most girls dreamed of the day someone offered them a ring. Not Connie Greene. She couldn’t even open the box. She did care for Ben Carruthers—always had, always would. But she couldn’t marry him until she’d made amends for the wrongs she’d committed. Until then, she had to protect Ben from himself. And most important, from her.
Connie spotted the ring box as soon as she entered the darkened kitchen.
It was hard to miss, given that it sat beside a lit tea candle on the island. Her chest tightened and wild panic surged through her.
“No. Don’t you dare.”
She raced down the stairs and flung open the front door. Barefoot in subzero temperatures and with no coat, she ran to the curb. Ben and his truck were nowhere in sight. Of course.
Giving her space. Uh-huh. She tiptoed up the snow-packed walk and then up the frozen steps back into the house, the sudden warmth making her toes tingle. Her defrosting feet left damp footprints on the plywood subfloor.
Maybe the box had just been a figment of her Valentine’s Day–stressed imagination. She crept into the kitchen. Nope. Still there, with its pale blue velvet and gold lettering.
Maybe it wasn’t what she thought it was.
But what if it was?
Dear Reader,
Welcome to the second installment in the A True North Hero series. You might’ve met Connie in the first book, A Roof Over Their Heads, where her troubled story is hinted at. Here it is, laid out for you. After twenty years of hard living, Connie decides to make a list of people she’s wronged and then sets out to do right by them.
As with most of life’s ambitions, it’s easier said than done. Particularly when her childhood friend and one of the names on her list, Ben Carruthers, still wants to put his ring on her finger.
I dug deep into Connie’s heart. She has the toughest time loving herself, and wrestles with feelings of unworthiness—the kinds of struggles we’ve all had and probably still contend with daily. I know I do.
But Connie has Ben to help find her way, even though he is dogged by the shadow of abandonment and loneliness. Loneliness can do strange things to a heart, can make the need to love stronger than love itself. What happens when he needs to love a woman who doesn’t want his love? How does a woman learn to accept the love she feels she doesn’t deserve?
Into this mix walks Ariel, an orphaned teenager who forces Ben and Connie to become good parents and better people. The three of them hammer together a family.
Let me know how their story touched you. I can be reached at mkstelmackauthor.com or on Facebook under M. K. Stelmack.
Happy reading!
M. K. Stelmack
BUILDING A FAMILY
M. K. Stelmack
www.millsandboon.com.au
M. K. STELMACK writes contemporary romances set in Spirit Lake, which is closely based on the small town in Alberta, Canada, where she lives with pets who outnumber the humans two to one, and with dust bunnies the size of rodents—because that’s what happens when everyone in the household prefers to live in their imagination or outdoors—but she can also be found on social media, where you can share your comments on her stories or her breathless one-sentence bio on Facebook or at mkstelmackauthor.com.
To Carol, who builds family, friends,
food and fun times.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Excerpt from Dad in Training by Cynthia Thomason
CHAPTER ONE
ON VALENTINE’S DAY NIGHT, the most romantic event of the year, Connie Greene watched the love of her life walk out on her. Well, okay, he left Smooth Sailing, where she was waitressing, so it wasn’t as if they were on a date. They weren’t even dating, anyway, so leaving her workplace hardly constituted walking out on her. And he didn’t say that he wasn’t returning at the end of her shift to pick her up as he always did.
That was the problem. Ben Carruthers left without a word to her, which was not like him at all. He didn’t even stay for his dinner. She was holding it, warm and heavy, when he swept past her and out the door.
Connie brought the full plates over to the table, where his regular dinner companion was seated. “Marlene, what did you say to Ben?”
Marlene dragged her gaze from the three built-in screens where she was tracking hockey, poker and skiing to the plate of food Connie put in front of her—a full rack of ribs with a double order of fries. Marlene sat back in her booth, but her waist, covered with a Toronto Maple Leafs hockey jersey, still grazed the table’s edge. The last thing Marlene needed was the heaping plate Connie set in front of her. Connie also understood that it was the only thing her friend felt she needed.
Connie held on to Ben’s order—a heaping plate of nachos just the way he liked them. Marlene reached for the bottle of ketchup still there from her earlier order of fries.
“Did you hear me?” Connie asked.
Instead of answering, Marlene squeezed a nearly empty plastic bottle until it wheezed and splattered a meager amount of ketchup onto a single fry. “Could we call this one done? Or do we cut it open and I wipe it clean with my fries?”
Connie snatched up the bottle. “That’s rich coming from the woman whose idea of a tip is to pass off discontinued pennies. The bottle was half full when I brought it here. Quit wasting it.”
“Quit bad-mouthing the customers.”
“Quit harassing the staff.”
“Who wants me to tell her something I know and she doesn’t?”
Marlene had her there.
“So, he is coming back?”
She shrugged.
“What did he say?”
Marlene finally came to the point. “Nothing, and I said nothing to him. He guzzled a couple of beers, went to the washroom and you saw the rest. I dunno, maybe the appies didn’t agree with him. He was a little heavy on the hot sauce.”
“Hot sauce doesn’t affect him,” Connie said. Ben was twelve when he’d swallowed a whole teaspoon of Tabasco sauce and hadn’t coughed once. Seth, her brother, hadn’t made it past six drops. Her eyes had teared up just from smelling the sauce, but then again, she had been only eight.
Connie gestured to Ben’s plate. “What am I supposed to do with his food?”
“Here, I’ll eat it,” said an all-too-familiar voice behind her.
“Mel.” She watched her half brother, her senior by nearly eighteen years, slide into Ben’s spot. He pulled the plate toward him and lifted off a nacho strung with a long tail of melted cheese. “I’m going to need more of those wipes. Hey, Marlene.”
Marlene raised a sauce-covered finger in greeting, her eyes once again glued to the screen.
Mel was another regular. Never on a particular day, like Ben with Wednesdays, but often enough.
“Saw Ben.” Mel dipped a nacho into the sour cream she’d specially peppered for Ben. “He said he had to run, but that I could have his dinner. You’re looking really nice.”
“Thanks,” Marlene said absently, and then groaned when the hockey
team playing the Leafs scored.
Mel winked at Connie, all three of them knowing perfectly well he’d been talking to Connie. “You’re welcome,” he said nonetheless.
Connie hoped she did look prettier than usual, considering how much time she’d spent getting her entire outfit of red, pink and silver coordinated, accessorized, applied, spritzed, curled or strapped on. Of course, she always got dolled up on special holidays. It made the nights more fun, that’s all. “Did Ben say where he was going?”
Mel lowered the loaded nacho he was about to ingest wholesale and gazed soberly at Connie. “On this of all days, don’t expect a man to say where he’s going unless he tells you himself.”
“Good policy for all days,” Marlene said pointedly to Connie. She pushed her empty beer mug toward Connie. “Another one of these. Wait!” She looked at Mel. “Since Ben’s wandered off, you want to be my date? Then I drink half-price.”
Mel rubbed his chin, leaving a streak of sour cream that Connie swiped off with a napkin. “How about we take turns being each other’s date? That way, I’ll get every other beer half-price, too.”
“The deal is only for females,” Connie clarified.
Mel continued with the chin-rubbing. Connie glanced impatiently at her next table. Lindsay, the town’s event coordinator, was seated with her husband and another couple. They’d finished their dessert, and Connie wanted to speak to Lindsay before they left. She was turning back to Mel when she caught sight of what was happening underneath Lindsay’s table. The wife of the other couple had her foot hooked around the ankle of Lindsay’s husband.
Well, now.
“I got it,” Mel said. “How about after Marlene’s drink I pretend to be a female?”
“Works for me, Melissa,” Marlene said, her gaze lifting again to the screen. “I should have reached my nightly quota by then, anyway.”
Connie was not going to fight it, not when she needed to get to Lindsay. “Billing you two is going to be a nightmare. Better make my tip worth it.”
Marlene nudged her empty mug at Connie and said, “Don’t forget about the ketchup, neither.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Connie took Marlene’s mug and walked over to Lindsay’s table. “How are we doing here?” She turned to Lindsay. “Didn’t I tell you that was the best cheesecake you’d ever taste?”
Lindsay’s eyelids grew heavy and her face softened—it was the same look she saw on all the other customers who ate Dizzy’s chocolate and one-other-secret-ingredient dessert. “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” Lindsay reached for her husband’s hand. “Thanks, Derek,” she said. “I needed a night out.”
To which the hypocrite answered by squeezing her hand and saying, “You deserve it.”
Wow. Derek held his wife’s hand while playing footsie with the wife of another man—whom Connie knew to be his best friend. Then he made it even weirder by asking Luke, “So we still on for the game Saturday?”
“Let me guess,” Connie cut in, and stared down Derek. “Poker? Isn’t it? From the way you can keep a straight face?”
“Are you kidding?” Luke said. “The guy’s an open book. There’s nothing he can hide from me.”
Oh, my... “Lindsay,” she said, “we should meet to talk venues. For the Lakers-on-the-Go summer events. Can I come by? Maybe tomorrow morning?”
Lindsay reached for her phone. “Let me see...” She scrolled through her day timer. “That should work. Eleven, say?”
“Perfect,” said Connie, her eye on Derek. “Looking forward to sharing my thoughts.”
Derek straightened in his seat, and pulled his straying foot back into place. Luke’s wife, Shari, played with the diamond pendant on her necklace, nicely displayed in her low-cut dress. “I believe it’s our turn to pay,” she said.
“No way,” Lindsay said. “Derek, get out your card.”
So began that friendly back-and-forth contest between prosperous couples about who had the longer credit card. Connie took the opportunity to slip away. She brought Marlene’s beer and the card reader for the foursome, but they were still at it.
“Here.” Connie handed the reader to Derek. “I’ve decided you owe your buddy. It’s the least you can do. Don’t you think?” She flashed him her brightest smile. He took it and handed it back with a hundred-dollar tip.
She almost felt sorry for him. Guilt was a terrible thing. An acid that burned into every thought, stripped away any peace of mind.
Still, a hundred extra dollars would help her deal a little with her own guilt issues. She tore off the receipt and offered it to him with her friendliest grin. “Thanks for spending your special evening with Smooth Sailing. Come again.”
* * *
BY CLOSING TIME, Connie was ready to bust out of her skintight outfit and kick her high-heeled ankle boots to the corner. She was cranky, made crankier by the fact that she had no business feeling that way. Her tips had been less than usual, yes, but she couldn’t blame the men for not spending on the busty waitress when they were on dates with girlfriends or wives. Or, in the case of Derek, with both. Nor was it anyone’s fault that some of the couples had lingered so long, staring all lovey-dovey at each other, that it cut into another sitting. And it most certainly didn’t matter that Ben hadn’t returned, hadn’t texted, nothing. Nor that she couldn’t text him because Mel had a point about men’s destinations on Valentine’s Day.
She attacked the bar counter with her cleaning cloth. Fifteen minutes to closing, that was usually when—
The outside doors opened and she heard the familiar wiping of boots on the mat, and then the inside doors opened.
“Where have you been?” she blurted.
Ben gave her a slow, satisfied smile as if he’d eaten a big meal. Somewhere else. “You don’t know?”
“I wouldn’t be asking if I did.”
He settled on a bar stool across from her. “It’s good to hear that I’m still a mystery to you after all this time.”
He had this way of making it seem as if they were in a relationship. They weren’t. They absolutely weren’t. “Just so you know, Mel paid for your meal.”
“Not my meal if he ate it.”
“And paid the tip.”
“Which wasn’t as good as mine.” Ben’s smile grew even wider. Honestly, what had he been up to? He zipped open his jacket to reveal his shirt underneath.
“You changed your shirt.”
“I did.”
Nothing more. No explanation. No point asking why, either, because it was none of her business. Then again, if his absence had nothing to do with her, why couldn’t he tell her?
He broke into her thoughts. “You need to do cleanup?”
Connie glanced over at Dizzy, who was coming over with money that she slapped down in front of Connie. “Your cut.”
Connie could tell by the size of the stack that she’d been right about the tips. She’d have enough to clear her phone bill and buy apples. She tucked the money down between her girls. Dizzy shook her head. “You’ll need to crowbar them out of there, you know.”
“You say the nicest things,” she said. “We’ve all got assets. You, too.”
“So I keep hearing,” Dizzy said, and gave her own behind a friendly smack.
“Who said it? You got a special someone?”
Dizzy smiled and strutted off. “Have fun, you two.”
Once again there was the implication that she and Ben were in a relationship. Everyone assumed that nowadays.
It had begun back in the fall, when Matt, her step-nephew-to-be, had crawled up onto the roof of her house and quite literally shouted from the rooftop that Seth was his new dad.
The stunt had attracted quite a crowd, including local media. Ben had taken advantage of all the people there, and when the cameras had switched to her, Ben had staked a claim at her side. Thankfully, the media hadn’t made the con
nection between this Connie Greene and the one who’d appeared in court a few times a decade ago.
From then on, Ben had insinuated himself into her daily life.
She left the bar with Ben and automatically headed for his truck, parked in its usual spot, all part of the too-tempting routine she’d fallen into with him.
Inside his truck—his warm but not-too-warm truck with its optimally heated seats—she buckled herself in and directed her gaze straight ahead.
She would get through the five-minute ride home and go straight to bed. No studying tonight.
“What’s wrong, Connie?” Ben said as he swung onto her quiet street.
“Nothing.” It sounded petulant even to her ears. She needed to fill the air with something. “It sucked seeing Marlene all by herself on Valentine’s Day, drinking too much and watching her favorite team lose again.”
Ben shrugged. “You get used to that when you cheer for the Leafs.”
“Still, she had to realize she was all alone in a booth meant for four, surrounded by couples.”
In the light from the dashboard, she could see a smile slink across Ben’s handsome face. “You didn’t like me leaving you, right?”
“That’s not it,” she lied. “Don’t be so dramatic.” He kept right on smiling. She rattled on. “Hey, you were there when Derek and Luke came in, right?” The two men played rec hockey with Ben. “I caught Derek playing footsie with Luke’s wife, Shari.”
Ben’s smile disappeared. “That’ll hurt when it comes out.”
“What makes you so sure it will come out? It could go on this way for years.”
Ben drove over the train tracks, and the vibration hummed through Connie despite the cushy seats.
“Connie,” he said quietly, “these things always come out.” He crawled to a stop in front of her house. Her big, broken house.
“I’ll have to tell her,” Connie said.
Ben shifted in his seat. “Why?”
He of all people should know the answer to that. “Because she deserves the truth.”
Building a Family Page 1