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* * *

Mel rounded the corner from Park onto Main in time to see Terri and Lyssa Sampson exit the offices of the
Mountain View Press
. Hand in hand, they crossed the street and disappeared into Terri’s Tangles Beauty Salon. If he’d left the bank five minutes earlier, Mel would have met up with the mother and daughter. Too bad. He’d wanted to say how much he enjoyed his time with them.

He strode across the street, then followed the sidewalk to the brick building that housed the newspaper. When he opened the door, he caught a whiff of dust and newsprint. He wondered when the last time was that the office had been thoroughly cleaned. He knew he couldn’t work amidst all this clutter.

Not finding his friend in the front office, Mel called, “Hey, Bill. Are you back there?”

“I’m here.” A few moments later, he appeared in the doorway to the print room.

“Would you mind going to eat a little earlier than we planned?”

“Not a bit. Let me grab my jacket.”

A short while later, the two men sat in a booth at the Over the Rainbow Diner, the only restaurant in town, if one didn’t count the Big Burger Drive In, the Suds Bar and Grill, or the quaint tea shop Pearl Ingram opened last fall over near the senior center. They didn’t talk as they perused the menu. In the end, they both ordered the baby back ribs special.

After the waitress left, Bill said, “Lyssa Sampson was in to see me not long before you came.”

“I saw them leaving. Lyssa and her mom.”

“I found an article about that girl who pitched a perfect game, and I showed it to her.”

Mel suppressed a groan, knowing what reading about Brownell would do to Lyssa.

“I guess you don’t think she’s ready yet,” Bill said as he loosened the paper napkin wrapped around his table service.

“Not yet. She will be, but not yet.”

“She wants it bad.”

Mel released a soft laugh. “Don’t I know it.” He shrugged. “The good thing is, she plays hard even when she doesn’t get what she wants. She never acts spoiled, the way some kids do.”

“Lyssa isn’t spoiled. Terri’s done a good job raising her.”

Mel tried to sound casual as he asked, “What about Lyssa’s dad?”

“Vic Sampson?” Bill shook his head. “Who knows? He deserted the two of them years ago. Must be at least seven years by now. Never showed his face in Hart’s Crossing again. He hasn’t made any effort to stay in touch with his daughter.”

“That’s tough.”

“I don’t know how a man could do that to his family.”

Mel glanced out the window. Clouds had drifted in from the west, turning the sky pewter in this last hour before sunset. “We live in a throwaway society. You don’t want something, you chuck it.”

“If there’s anything I’m determined to do, it’s to be a good husband to Angie, and if God blesses us with children, then a good father to them.”

His friend’s comment drew Mel’s gaze from the window. “You will be.” The truth was, he envied Bill Palmer. Mel hadn’t meant to be unmarried and childless at his age. He’d wanted a wife and kids, same as Bill.

Terri Sampson’s pretty green-blue eyes flashed in his memory, the sound of her laughter lingering in his ears. He pictured Lyssa in her baseball uniform, her cap pulled low on her forehead, determination setting her mouth as she wound up to release the ball.

Maybe, God willing, it wasn’t too late for him.

Chapter 5

“I’M DRIVING DOWN TO Twin Falls on Saturday morning to look at wedding gowns,” Angie said as she settled onto the chair in front of the shampoo bowl. “Could you and Lyssa go with me? I’d love to see if we can find dresses for the two of you, ones you’ll like.”

Terri shook her head as she eased Angie back against the neck rest. “I couldn’t do it this Saturday. I’ve got several appointments scheduled, and Lyssa has baseball practice.” She turned on the water and ran it until the temperature was right. “How about Monday afternoon, after Lyssa gets home from school? We could go then.”

“Mmm. Let me think.” Angie closed her eyes. “Yes, Monday will work for me.”

Terri pressed down on the pump of the shampoo dispenser, then worked the golden liquid into Angie’s dark brown hair.

“Oh, that feels heavenly.”

“That’s what I hear.” Terri tried to remember the last time she’d had her scalp massaged by another hair stylist. Maybe back when she was in beauty school? Could it have been that long?

“Bill and I ordered the wedding invitations yesterday.” Angie opened her eyes. “You know, it was kind of scary. Does that make sense? I love him and want to be his wife. Most of the time, I’m really excited. But it was still scary placing the order for those invitations. I guess it made it seem more real somehow. Am I crazy?”

Terri rinsed the shampoo from Angie’s hair, sat her up, and wrapped her head in a towel before answering. “You’re not crazy, Ang. It makes perfect sense. This is a big change in your life.”

“Did you feel that way when you married Vic?”

“Not really.” She shrugged and released a tiny laugh. “I guess I didn’t know enough to be nervous. We didn’t have a long engagement or a fancy wedding. It all happened too fast for nerves or common sense to get in the way.”

Angie rose from the chair. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s too long ago to hurt me now.” Terri motioned for Angie to follow her to the styling chair. “Besides, whatever else Vic did wrong during our marriage, he did give me Lyssa, and I wouldn’t trade her for anything.”

No, she thought as she began trimming Angie’s hair, she wouldn’t trade Lyssa for anything, not even a happy marriage, but she wouldn’t mind having both. She wished Vic had been a better man. She wished he’d been a Christian. She wished he’d wanted to be a husband to her and a father to Lyssa. And although memories of Vic didn’t hurt any longer, she did sometimes wonder what was wrong with her that he’d felt the need to cheat.

“Bill and I want children,” Angie said, interrupting Terri’s thoughts. “I hope it’s not too late for us.”

Terri smiled at her friend in the mirror. “Women lots older than you are having babies, Ang. You’re what? Thirty-six? I wouldn’t worry if I were you.”

The chime above the salon door rang. Before turning to see who’d come in, Terri cast a quick glance at the clock to make certain she wasn’t running behind schedule. Thankfully, she wasn’t.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

Terri looked at Bill standing just inside the door. “Are you talking to me or my client?”

“Ah, I’m too smart to fall for that.” He laughed. “You’re both gorgeous. Ask any guy in town.”

That was sweet of him to say, but it was obvious, as Bill gazed at Angie, who was truly beautiful in his eyes.

Okay. Terri might as well admit it. She would love to have a man look at her like that. Could it possibly be in God’s plan to send someone her way who would?

* * *

Mel leaned back in the chair and swiveled it toward the window of his office. The vertical blinds were halfway open, enough to let in the daylight. If he opened them completely, he felt as if he were in a fishbowl because every passerby on the sidewalk could look right in.

Across the street, Dave Coble, the police chief, entered the post office moments before Harry Raney, owner of the Over the Rainbow Diner, came out the same door. Familiar sights. Familiar faces.

But the face that persisted in his thoughts belonged to one particular and very attractive redhead.

It was already Wednesday, and he still hadn’t come up with another excuse to call Terri Sampson. There wasn’t any more chocolate cake to share with her daughter, and he couldn’t use Terri’s involvement as a Little League volunteer too often. Of course, he
could
try the truth. He could tell her he liked her and wanted to invite her out to dinner or a movie or both.

He hated this feeling in his gut, all nerves and uncertainty. Normally, he was a confident guy, a fellow able to make decisions and then act on them, but the thought of asking Terri out made Mel nervous.

Through his twenties and into his early thirties, he’d had a number of girlfriends. He hadn’t been what one would call a ladies’ man, but he’d enjoyed the company of women. Then he’d met Rhonda and he knew he was ready for that home in the suburbs with a jungle gym in the backyard and everything else that went with marriage and a family. After proposing, he’d thought his dating days were over for good.

But here he was again.

Mel shook his head slowly. He’d thought dating was like riding a bike. That one never forgot how. But it didn’t seem to work that way. He felt more like a fifteen-year-old trying to stir up courage to ask a girl to the prom than a man hoping to enjoy an adult relationship with a woman.

His gaze moved to the telephone on his desk. Did he have the courage to take that next step?

Mel rose, walked to the window, and pulled the cord to open the vertical blinds wide. It was a gray and windy day, appropriate for the first of March, roaring in like a lion.

From the vantage point of his office, he could see up Park Street to the north. Main Street Drug was on the opposite corner from the bank and beyond the drugstore was Sawtooth Dentistry. To the south lay the offices of Randy Dickson, Attorney at Law, and the red brick First Baptist Church with its white steeple.

He’d come to like Hart’s Crossing—and the people in it—over the years he’d lived here. At first it had been a place of escape, but it had grown on him. Somehow, despite himself, it had become home when he wasn’t looking.

I don’t have to feel empty and alone any longer.
He raked the fingers of his right hand through his hair.
I can do something about it.

He turned, strode to his desk, and yanked open the drawer where he kept the slim Hart’s Crossing phone directory. He opened it, flipped through the pages to the
T
s, and then followed his finger down the list until he arrived at Terri’s Tangles Beauty Salon.

Drawing a deep breath, he picked up the handset and punched in the numbers.

* * *

Using the blow dryer with her right hand and a brush with the left, Terri had almost finished styling Angie’s shorter hairdo when the salon’s telephone rang.

What I wouldn’t give for a receptionist.

She glanced toward Bill, who sat in the dryer chair, flipping through a magazine while he waited for his fiancée.

He’ll have to do.

“Bill, would you mind getting that for me?” she asked above the whirr of the blow dryer.

“Sure thing.” He got up and headed for the counter.

Catching Angie’s gaze in the mirror, Terri asked, “Do you two have plans this afternoon? Or does he just need something to do?”

Angie laughed. “We’ve got plans. We’re going to look at new living room furniture. The things I had in my place in California aren’t right for Bill’s house, and his furniture isn’t fit for—”

Bill walked back into view. “That was Mel Jenkins. He asked you to call him at the bank. I wrote his number on the slip of paper by the phone.”

Terri hoped Lyssa’s coach didn’t need her to volunteer for something else. One more thing on her calendar, and she would collapse.

She flipped the switch on the blow dryer, plunging the salon into sudden silence. “All done.” She set the dryer in its slot. “What do you think?” As she swiveled the chair around, she gave Angie the hand mirror, then waited for the verdict.

“I like it.”

Bill grinned. “Me, too.”

Terri retrieved the hand mirror from Angie. “You should consider how you want to style your hair for the wedding. It could make a difference in the type of veil you choose. Or vice versa.”

“Okay. I’ll think about it. When we go to Twin, you can help me pick out a veil that’ll work.”

With the cape removed from around her neck, Angie rose and walked to the counter, where she wrote a check to pay for the cut and style. Then she and Bill said good-bye and left the salon, holding hands, their heads close together as they spoke softly to each other.

Terri sighed as she opened the register and slipped the check into the appropriate slot. As she closed the drawer, her gaze fell on the note Bill had scribbled.

She sighed again.

Might as well find out what Mel wanted. She just hoped she remembered how to say no if she needed to. She already felt as if she were running in three directions at once, not that she didn’t enjoy her volunteer work with the Cavaliers. She did. She had many friends among the other moms and dads, and she loved watching Lyssa play. Still, she wasn’t Super Mom, despite how often she pretended otherwise.

Settling onto the stool behind the counter, she tapped the numbers and waited as the phone rang.

“Farmers Independent Bank. How may I direct your call?”

“Mel Jenkins, please.”

“Certainly. May I tell him who’s calling?”

“Terri Sampson.”

“Oh. Hi, Terri. Didn’t recognize your voice. It’s Isabella.”

Isabella…Isabella…Miranda Andrews’ daughter? “Hi, Isabella. I didn’t know you worked at the bank.”

“Only part time. But I’m hoping I’ll get to stay on this summer after graduation. I’ll need all the money I can save. I’m going to attend Boise State in the fall.” The girl paused a moment before saying, “I’ll put you through to Mr. Jenkins.”

“Thanks.”

Terri felt a twinge of envy. Wouldn’t it be great to be in Isabella’s shoes, eighteen years old with all of life still before her? Dorm rooms. Football games. Studying in the library. Pizza parties. Boyfriends. A girl with a clean slate, free of major mistakes.

Terri hadn’t gone to college, and she often regretted it. Not that she’d had much choice. She hadn’t had the money, and although her grades had been good in school, they hadn’t been good enough to earn a scholarship.

“Mel Jenkins. May I help you?”

“Mel, it’s Terri. You left a message for me to call.” She pressed her lips together rather than asking what he needed. After all, he might have found some other volunteer already.

“Yes, I did.” He cleared his throat.

Please don’t let it be that he needs a driver for the van for away games, anything but that.