Loe raamatut: «Lakeside Romance»

Chapter One

Sarah needed to get rid of the dress.

Her pity party had gone on way too long. She wasn’t the first woman to be dumped, and she wasn’t about to let Adam’s commitment issues color her against marriage. After all, her brother, Caleb, had managed to find love a second time around with Zoe.

There was hope for Sarah, too.

Someday.

Even if the memories hadn’t faded, it was the only way to put the past where it belonged, so she could focus on her future—find a new purpose for her life. Whatever that may be. Holding on to the dress served only as a reminder that she wasn’t worth committing to.

For now, though, she’d sell the strapless gown studded with Swarovski crystals and seed pearls on eBay or perhaps find a consignment shop. Wasn’t there one in town—Christy’s Closet or something like that?

Until she could get rid of it, though, it would still be hanging in her closet...taunting her about her single status.

She couldn’t allow that. The dress had to go now.

She wadded the satin creation into a ball, stuffed it into a garbage bag and tossed it on top of a pile of empty boxes that needed to be recycled first thing in the morning.

Across the room, a breeze carrying the scent of pending rain rippled through the curtains, ushering in the whispers of the night through the window.

With renewed energy, Sarah tore open the flaps of one of the boxes stacked under her window. She pulled out an armful of romance novels, carried them into the living room and stacked them on the shelves of the empty bookcase standing next to her favorite chair. She returned to the bedroom for another load.

Finishing her unpacking now would give her time this weekend to get settled before beginning her new job on Monday—teaching life skills to teenagers in a summer outreach program through her church. She hadn’t expected to be adding that to her résumé, but then she’d never anticipated having her life turned upside down, either.

Cool air whisked over her bare arms. Leafy branches scratched at the window. Sarah gathered the books to her chest and pressed her forehead against the pane. The glass chilled her head, but did little to stop the familiar tension headache forming at her temples.

She’d done enough for tonight. It was time to wind down with a cup of tea.

Her stomach rumbled. And apparently a snack.

She pushed away from the window, set the books on the floor, reached for a pink sweatshirt and tugged it over her head, covering her white tank top and blue polka-dot pajama pants.

Feeling her way along the unfamiliar wall of the small second-floor apartment of the old Victorian house she’d moved into this morning, Sarah fumbled for the kitchen light switch. As she flicked on the light, she caught her big toe on the corner of the cabinet. Pain lanced her foot. She bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying out. Releasing a halfhearted string of whimpers, she hobbled over to the counter to turn on her Keurig.

Spying the apartment-warming basket her family had given her after dinner, she waded through ribbons and cellophane to find a package of popcorn. Comfort food—that’s what she needed.

While the popcorn popped in the microwave, she searched the white cabinets for the mugs her new sister-in-law, Zoe, had washed and put away. Grabbing her favorite Bartlett University ceramic mug, she dropped a decaf vanilla chai tea bag into the machine, slid her cup under the brewing station and pushed the button. The buttery scent of popcorn wafted her way, causing her stomach to growl even louder.

Once the water finished streaming into the mug, Sarah cupped it, inhaled the rich aroma and pressed her back against the gray L-shaped countertop to survey the newly updated kitchen.

With its white walls and the arched window over the sink, which looked out into the trimmed backyard with its large weeping willow bowing over the stream that sliced through the property, she had fallen in love with this room when she viewed the apartment. Too bad she wore the World’s Greatest Cook apron ironically. Otherwise, cooking on the shiny surface of the stainless-steel stove would bring her great pleasure. So would actually having someone to cook for.

Her mother kept telling her she wasn’t going to find a husband if she didn’t learn to cook. But she didn’t even want to think of that right now. She didn’t need a guy in her life.

She’d moved to Shelby Lake, the lakefront community in northwestern Pennsylvania, nine months ago—two days after Adam decided to end their engagement six weeks before their wedding. She’d helped her brother with his two young daughters and had pieced together her broken heart with tears and whispered prayers.

Now that Caleb and Zoe had returned from their honeymoon, they needed privacy to blend their families together. And Sarah needed the freedom to explore her future. She’d also concentrate her efforts on making the summer outreach program a success in order for the church board to continue the program on a permanent basis.

A sense of anticipation tickled her sternum.

She took another sip of her tea, then set it on the counter.

Shouldn’t that popcorn be almost done?

Sarah glanced at the microwave. Smoke blackened the door. She wrenched it open. Gray billows escaped and spiraled toward the ceiling. She coughed at the acrid smell burning her nostrils and throat.

Burrowing her nose into the collar of her sweatshirt, she grabbed a dish towel and waved the smoke away so she could pull out the charred bag. Heat burned her fingers as she tossed the smoking mess into the sink and turned on the water.

Sarah glanced at the timer on the microwave. Instead of three minutes, she had added an extra zero.

Way to go.

A shrill sound pierced the air.

She threw open the window over the sink, then darted across the room to wave the dish towel in front of the smoke alarm to stop the offending sound before it woke up the neighborhood.

Her arm ached as she stretched on tiptoes and flapped the towel like a hyperactive bird. Once the noise stopped, she sagged against the wall and blew out puffed cheeks.

Heavy footsteps thundering up the stairs and a pounding on her front door jerked her to her feet. A male voice yelled through the steel door. “Open up!”

Heart hammering, she dropped the towel in the sink and raced to the door, then threw it open.

A man stood at the top of the landing dressed in a wrinkled T-shirt, jeans and bare feet. His dark brown hair looked as if he tamed it with a garden rake. Shadows darkened his jaw. With one arm braced against her door frame, he stared at her with eyes the color of faded denim. His nostrils flared as his chest heaved and lips thinned.

She was in so much trouble.

Silently begging her racing heart to settle down, Sarah cleared her throat. “May I help you?” One shaky hand on the doorknob, she rested the other against the frame, shielding the opening with her body.

“Do you always answer the door without checking to see who it is?”

“No. Not usually. I just...well, it’s been kind of a crazy night. I wasn’t thinking—”

He cut her off by stepping forward and trying to shoulder past her into the apartment.

“Excuse me. What are you doing? You can’t come in here.” With her heartbeat pounding in her ears, she closed the door partially to block his entrance.

As if she could even take him if he tried to push his way in.

“Where’s the fire?” As if realizing what he was doing, the man stepped back, but he reached for her wrist. “The fire department’s already on its way. You need to get out where it’s safe.”

She pulled her hand out of his grasp. Heat crawled up her neck.

Could this night get any worse?

Sirens screamed down the street, becoming louder as they stopped in front of the house. Lights flashed in the darkness at the bottom of her steps.

“There’s no fire. I overcooked my popcorn.” Sarah jerked a thumb over her shoulder and nodded toward the kitchen.

“Popcorn?” He rubbed a hand over his face, then shook head. “My alarm went off for popcorn? You can’t be serious.”

His alarm?

Wait a minute. Didn’t Mary Seaver, who showed her the place in her grandson’s absence, mention interconnecting smoke alarms between the downstairs and upstairs apartments? So that would make this man her downstairs neighbor...and landlord.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

* * *

After dealing with flight delays, crossing a couple of time zones and spending a week away from work at a real-estate conference, all Alec wanted was a decent night’s sleep. But, apparently, that wasn’t going to happen tonight.

With hands jammed in his front pockets and bare feet, Alec stood on the sidewalk next to his new neighbor as the fire crew double-checked the upstairs apartment. He tried to tell them it was nothing more than burned popcorn, but since the security company had notified them, they needed to do their own investigation.

And he knew that.

But that did little to settle the memories the alarm had awakened in his mind. He forced even breaths into his lungs and exhaled slowly to calm his hammering heart. He could attribute his sweat-slicked skin to the thick-as-fog humidity.

A sweeping glance down the street showed nosy neighbors standing in their yards, gawking at the activity going on in front of his house.

Exactly what he hated—people in his business.

His bones sagged as his eyes burned with fatigue. The pounding in his skull didn’t help, either.

Why had Gran rented the upstairs apartment to a scatterbrain?

She’d called him to say a sweet, responsible girl from her church was looking for an apartment for the summer. Despite his hesitation at renting to someone without meeting her first and for only a short time, he’d given in, trusting Gran’s judgment. Look where that’d gotten him. With a signed lease and three months’ rent paid in advance, he was stuck with the popcorn burner.

His new neighbor—what was her name again?—glanced at him and stuck out her hand. “I’m really sorry for causing so much trouble. I’m Sarah, by the way. Sarah Sullivan. I promise not to be a problem in the future.”

Her smile revealed even, white teeth and emphasized her high cheekbones. The streetlights haloed her short dark hair that stood out at all angles. The top of her head didn’t even come to his shoulder. She didn’t look old enough to be out of high school, let alone living on her own. Something about her seemed familiar, but in his brain-fogged state, he couldn’t place where he’d seen her.

He shook her hand quickly, then released it. “Alec. And that’s good to know. I like sleeping at night. You related to Caleb Sullivan?”

“Yes, he’s my brother.”

That was how he knew her. “He’s a good man.”

“The best.” She looked at him and cocked her head. “Didn’t you play at his wedding a couple of weeks ago?”

“I did.”

The image of her walking down the aisle in the pale blue halter dress clicked into place.

Billy Lynn, Shelby Lake’s battalion chief on duty and Alec’s brother-in-law, strode over to them and clapped Alec on the shoulder. “All’s clear. I’ll phone it in to the security company. You’re both free to go back inside.”

“Thanks, man.” The tinge of smoke that lingered in the material of Billy’s turnout gear snaked through Alec, unearthing memories best left buried.

Sarah shot them a quick, apologetic smile. “Again, so sorry. Have a good night.” She jogged barefoot across the grass and disappeared into the house.

Billy chuckled and shook his head. “You’re going to have your hands full with that one.”

“I don’t have the time, or the inclination, to deal with anyone.”

Billy’s lips thinned as he scrubbed a hand over his buzzed head. “You know, Alec, Christy’s been gone four years today.”

Alec held up a hand. “Stop, okay? I know exactly how long she’s been gone.”

He didn’t need a calendar to know what day it was.

“My sister wouldn’t want to see you like this.” Billy crossed his arms over his chest, emphasizing his wrestler’s build.

“Yeah, well, she’s not here anymore.” And he had no one to blame but himself.

“No. No, she isn’t.” Billy heaved a sigh and moved his helmet to his other arm. “Listen, since I’m already poking the bear...we have an opening in the department, if you’d like to come back.”

Alec shook his head and scoffed. “You’re in rare form tonight, aren’t you?”

Billy shrugged. “What can I say? Haven’t seen you in a while, so I figured why not get it all in while I can?”

Alec waved a hand over the yard. “Dude, you know where I live.”

“Yeah, I know, buddy.”

“I appreciate the offer, but that part of my life is in the past, where it needs to stay.” The fire department didn’t need a crew member who still battled nightmares or freaked out over smoke alarms.

“Don’t even go there, man.” Billy’s voice snapped like a whip. “You threw away your career because of one house.”

Alec’s heart smashed against his ribs. “Go there? Dude, I never left. And it wasn’t just any house, Billy. You know that. It was my house. The one I shared with my wife. The one where we were going to raise our family.” His chest tightened as he chugged in ragged breaths. He jammed his fingers through his hair, then locked his hands behind his head.

Billy’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to get you riled up. I just hate seeing you merely existing.”

“I don’t think I’ve had a decent night’s sleep in four years.” He mumbled the words mostly to himself. He didn’t need to close his eyes to feel flames from the past searing his skin or smell the choking grasp of the thick smoke. Or hear his wife’s frantic screams, begging him to save her... He ground the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “I have a responsibility to my grandparents now.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Alec.” Billy gripped his shoulder.

“Tell that to your mom.” Jane Lynn’s grief-stricken screams echoed inside the dark chambers of his mind.

You should have saved her! My daughter is dead because of you!

Squeezing his eyes shut, he forced the accusation back behind the locked door of his memory. He glanced longingly toward his front door. “I appreciate your concern. I do, but I’m running on empty. I need to catch some z’s.”

Billy gave him a long look. “I’m serious, man. Would you want Christy to live like this if she had lost you?”

Of course not, but how could he explain the deep hole in his heart that couldn’t be filled by anyone else?

“I know it’s been tough. I miss my baby sister every day,” Billy continued. “You know, I used to watch you two together and think you were the perfect couple. You’d cook these fantastic meals together, and anytime Etta James came on the radio, you’d pull Christy away from the sink and dance with her. That’s what you need—to find another dance partner...someone who makes you laugh and brings back the joy in your life.”

Billy stated the impossible. No one could fill his arms...or his heart...the way Christy had. She had been a perfect fit.

He shot a mischievous look at Alec. “If you don’t start living—I mean really living instead of going through the motions—then I’m going to pass out your number to every single chick I know...and I know plenty.”

Alec’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Alec dropped his chin to his chest a moment, then glared at Billy. “Fine, you win.”

The teasing tone dropped out of Billy’s voice. “It’s not about winning, Alec.”

“Yeah.” Alec rubbed his thumb and forefinger over eyelids made of burlap. “I really need to hit the hay.”

Billy clapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah, okay. We’ll talk soon.”

“Later.” Alec strode across the lawn, his feet and the frayed hems of his jeans dampened by the night dew. He entered his apartment, locking the door behind him.

Instead of heading for his bed, he dropped into the oversize leather chair in the corner of the living room. Swinging a foot onto the matching ottoman, he rested his head against the cushioned back.

The minute the fire alarm had screamed through the stillness of the night, his adrenaline had yanked him out of his sleep. He had thrown on clothes and rushed upstairs. All he could think about was saving the new tenant. He couldn’t handle another death on his conscience.

Sitting up, he opened the drawer in the side table and reached for a handful of photos, smudged with fingerprints and creased from being handled. He leafed through them quickly, not really needing the visual reminder of Christy’s smile or the way her blue eyes sparkled when she laughed. But, for a moment, he needed to flip through them to remind himself why he couldn’t respond differently to Billy’s offer.

He paused on the one photo that nearly mangled his gut each time he looked at it—a candid shot of him and Christy slow dancing in his grandparents’ kitchen. They had celebrated their first Christmas together as a married couple with his family. While doing dishes, their wedding song had come on the radio. He asked Christy to dance with him. She’d fit perfectly into his arms. He hadn’t minded the way she teased him playfully about his missteps. His sister, Chloe, had taken the picture as he dropped a kiss on the tip of his wife’s nose.

The memory only served to hurt him more deeply. Because, as he continued to gaze at the image, a thought invaded his mind. He hadn’t just lost his wife and everything they owned in the fire—he’d also lost his unborn son.

Alec dropped the pictures back in the drawer and slammed it shut. He pushed himself out of the chair and wandered down the darkened hall to his bedroom.

More than anything, he wanted to bring back the family he’d lost and have the life he was meant to live. But that was impossible.

If he could turn back the clock, he’d make different choices—choices that would’ve protected Christy and his baby. As long as the trauma from his past continued to plague him, having a life with anyone else was impossible.

But he couldn’t drown out Billy’s words. His brother-in-law still remained single, despite his share of dates, so he didn’t understand what it was like to love and lose one’s partner.

What Alec wouldn’t give to laugh again and to have the same kind of happiness he’d shared with Christy.

But dancing ever again?

That was out of the question. No one could fill his arms the way she had.