Wishing Lake (22 page)

It was as cold as the day she’d buried her husband almost two years ago. Doreen stood before Paul’s final resting place, staring down at his headstone: P
AUL
F
EVER
, 1946
TO
2013, L
OVING
H
USBAND AND
F
ATHER
.

Her gaze lifted to a tree line in the distance. The bare branches moved in an icy breeze. Above them, gray clouds hung low and heavy in the sky.

Doreen swiped away tears with the tips of her fingers. Back in her day, they hadn’t told little girls that happily-ever-after wasn’t forever. And she hadn’t been smart enough to figure it out on her own. Even when she and Paul had opened their retirement accounts and chosen a life insurance policy, she hadn’t realized the implications of their actions. One of them—she—would be left behind, left alone. Stranded.

Doreen dropped her gaze to Paul’s headstone again. “I’ve made the best of it.”

You’ve done better than that,
Paul’s smooth, rich baritone whispered in her ear, full of pride.
You’ve thrived. I knew you would.

“I’d never planned a life without you.” She snuggled deeper into her sapphire-blue woolen winter coat. “I wish you were still here to share these new experiences with me.”

She’d always hated that expression. It was annoyingly vague. And why did it take forever to understand the reason something happens?

“I’d already planned my future.” Doreen shifted her stance. “I was supposed to spend it with you.”

“Right. ‘We plan, God laughs.’” Doreen sighed. “I resented you for the longest time for leaving me. I resented God, too.”

She could almost swear it was his voice in her head, his presence beside her. She wasn’t as cold anymore.

“But then the opportunity with Books and Bakery developed. Ean came home. And I was elected mayor. Those things probably wouldn’t have happened if you were still alive. Sometimes I feel guilty about that.”

“I hadn’t planned on falling in love again, either. But marrying Alonzo feels like giving up the last little bit of our past, leaving only the memories.”

“Am I wrong to be in love with Alonzo?” Doreen rubbed her forehead, trying to relax the tension between her brows. “I’m not trying to replace you.”

“If you were the one left behind, would you remarry?” She strained to hear his answer.

She scowled. “I wouldn’t want you to replace me.”

She was so tempted to say yes, but that wasn’t the truth. “No, I’d want you to be happy.”

Doreen couldn’t wipe away the tears fast enough. “Then why do I feel guilty?”

Frustration overwhelmed her. Doreen squeezed her eyes shut and fisted her hands inside her black leather gloves. “Paul, Paul, tell me what I should do.”

Doreen opened her eyes. She was no closer to knowing what Paul would want. Maybe that was the point. The question wasn’t what would Paul want. What did
she
want?

Doreen’s hands shook as she studied Trinity Falls Cuisine’s dinner menu Wednesday night, Christmas Eve. She felt like a young girl on her first date, just like the first time she’d gone out with Alonzo.

She laid down the menu and looked across the booth at her companion. He was so handsome in his deep plum wool sweater. It was her favorite. It darkened his beautiful coffee-colored eyes. His rich, wavy, dark brown hair reflected the light from the lamp fixture above them. He must have shaved right before he left his house. The skin over his squared, café au lait jaw looked smooth and touchable. Doreen’s palms tingled.

Alonzo looked up and caught her gaze. “Everything all right?”

“I’m fine.” Doreen tried to read Alonzo’s expression. “What made you decide to go out to dinner tonight?”

“It’s Christmas Eve.” Alonzo reached across the table to twine his fingers with hers. “You’re cooking a big meal tomorrow. Tonight’s the perfect time to pamper you.”

“Thank you.” Doreen pressed his hand with both of hers. Could he feel her fingers trembling?

It was also the perfect time to propose. It wasn’t the day Paul had proposed, but Christmas Eve was a popular time for popping the question. Everyone knew that. A fancy restaurant on Christmas Eve? Surely Alonzo was planning to propose to her a second time. Thinking about it made her heart race. This time, when Alonzo asked her to be his wife, she would say yes.

Trinity Falls Cuisine was elegantly dressed for Christmas. A seven-foot-tall, three-foot-wide Christmas tree stood at the entrance, decorated with gold and red ornaments and pearl-white beads. Red velvet ribbons topped the mahogany wood beams that climbed the walls. Green garlands lined the rafters.

Doreen’s gaze skimmed the dining area. The restaurant was filled with couples who appeared oblivious to everything but each other. She and Alonzo were lucky to have been seated so quickly. Had he called ahead for a table? That sounded like something he’d do just to make sure the evening was perfect.

Their server arrived. The young man asked for their drink orders. They both requested unsweetened iced tea.

Doreen shoved aside the question of when he would propose and set her mind to relaxing and enjoying the evening.

She sat back on the booth’s bench, allowing their hands to separate. “There’s only a week left to this year. It’s gone by so quickly.”

“You didn’t think so at the time.” Alonzo’s twinkling eyes caressed her face.

Doreen laughed. “There were indeed times when 2014 had seemed never ending with the Sesquicentennial Celebration and the mayoral election. But we have great memories as well, times I wouldn’t change for anything.”

“Like luring you away from Leonard.” Alonzo arched a brow. “He wasn’t one of your better decisions.”

“I won’t argue with you over that.” Doreen raised both hands in surrender.

“What are you looking forward to in 2015?”

Doreen hesitated. Was this a trick question? Was he going to propose now? “I’m nervous but excited about taking office, of course. The swearing in is just eight days away, January first.”

The server returned with their iced teas, then took their orders. Doreen requested the grilled chicken breast with wild rice. Alonzo ordered the wood-fired steak and baked potato.

“I’m going to be very proud to see you sworn in.” Alonzo’s coffee eyes were warm with admiration.

Doreen took a long drink of her iced tea, then leaned into the table and reached for his hands. “Thank you for supporting me through all of this. I can’t tell you what that means to me.”

Alonzo squeezed her hand. “I believe in you, Doreen. Trinity Falls is very lucky to have you as its next mayor.”

Is this when he proposes?
The silence continued.

Doreen held tightly to Alonzo’s hand. “What are you looking forward to in 2015?”

“Retiring.” Alonzo flashed his bright white grin.

Doreen laughed. “I can’t imagine you not working.”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Retiring doesn’t necessarily mean I won’t be working. Trinity Falls is losing its hardest-working volunteer. I’m willing to try to fill the void. I also thought you might need help with the bakery when your mayoral responsibilities demand your attention. I can cover you there, too.”

She was falling deeper in love with him. “From Jacksonville, Florida, deputy sheriff to Trinity Falls, Ohio, sheriff to bakery assistant. That’s a very versatile résumé.”

“Don’t forget community volunteer.” Alonzo shrugged again, his muscles moving smoothly under the fisherman’s crewneck sweater. “There’s nothing wrong with reinventing yourself.”

“As long as that’s what you want.” She searched his beautiful brown eyes.

“I’m looking forward to it.” His smile reassured her.

Their dinner arrived and conversation sailed through memories of 2014 and plans for 2015. The evening flew by, giving Doreen, and she hoped Alonzo, another wonderful memory to close the year.

But he still hadn’t proposed.

Later, Doreen was distracted as Alonzo drove them to her home. The evening was ending. Was he going to ask her to marry him or not?

He parked in her driveway and helped her out of his car. Alonzo escorted her to her door. He unlocked the entrance, glanced around, then let her precede him across the threshold. She’d left a light on in her living room. Even before she’d started dating the sheriff, she’d never liked returning to a dark house.

“I’m going to get ready for bed,” Alonzo announced from behind her.

“OK.” Doreen spoke with her back to him.

“Is everything all right?” Alonzo paused beside her. His eyes sought hers.

“Yes.” Doreen forced a smile. “I’ll be up in a moment.”

Well, that answered her question. She watched Alonzo mount the stairs to her bedroom. When was he going to propose again? Not tonight.

Doreen trailed her lover up the steps. Was he only going to propose once? Had she lost her window of opportunity?

Darius waited while Peyton secured her seat belt in his black Nissan Maxima Friday evening. He’d just met her flight at the Cleveland Hopkins International Airport and had carried her suitcase back to his car parked in the airport’s short-term lot.

Her copper curls bounced as she connected the safety belt. As though with a will of its own, his hand reached out to touch them.

Peyton looked up in surprise. Her eyes warmed. “Thanks again for meeting my flight.”

“You’re welcome again.” Darius drew his hand back from her hair. His palm tingled where he’d made contact. He started the engine and reversed out of the parking spot.

Darius was relieved to have her back. They’d talked on Christmas Day and texted throughout the week. Still he’d missed her even more than he’d expected. Why? That was a question he’d been asking himself since he’d taken her to the airport last Saturday. Was it because it was Christmas, a time to spend with friends and family? Or did he feel her absence more strongly because his friends had found their soul mates?

Or had he felt lost without her because he’d finally done the impossible—fallen in love?

Peyton pulled out her wallet to pay the parking fee. “Here.” She offered the dollar bills to Darius.

“I’ve got it.” Darius paid the attendant, then merged into traffic.

“I’ll pay you back.” Peyton put away her money and zipped her purse. “How’s my Christmas tree?”

“It’s still fake.”

“But you told me your Christmas was better than you’d expected.”

“Yes, it was.” That still surprised Darius.

“I think my little tree brought you luck.”

“Maybe it did.” He’d humor her. Darius checked his blind spot, then switched lanes. “Are you hungry?”

“Not yet but I will be,” Peyton said on a sigh. That was understandable. It was almost six o’clock.

“I’ll fix dinner at my place.” Darius met her gaze. “My parents wrapped up their assignment for the fund-raising committee. We’re two weeks out and everything’s in place.”

“That’s terrific.” The passenger seat rustled as Peyton settled deeper onto it. “I knew your parents would be able to work together if they just tried.”

“You have more faith in them than I do.” Darius tossed Peyton a look. “The ads will start running next week on the local TV news, in the
Monitor
, and on the radio. Businesses are distributing the fliers to their customers.”

“It’s starting to feel real.” Excitement bounded in Peyton’s voice.

“Yes, it is.” Darius smiled. “Opal Gutierrez is doing a feature story on the event. She’s going to interview Ms. Helen and the center’s director.”

“Terrific.” Peyton snapped her fingers. “Should we give Opal the basic information: committee member names, the evening’s agenda, list of business donors?”

“I gave her that information and told her to call one of us if she has any other questions.”

For the rest of the one-hour drive from the airport back to Trinity Falls, Darius and Peyton talked about her family visit, the looming end to her university break, and the football games. Peyton wanted details on his parents, the same, their mutual friends, all well, and his take on the football games, great matchups.

Darius pulled into his assigned space in his apartment’s parking lot. He popped the trunk, then climbed out of the car to collect Peyton’s heavy suitcase. “Did you pack your textbooks?”

“Yes.”

Darius stopped halfway across his parking lot to stare at Peyton in shock. “I was joking.”

“I wasn’t.” She gestured toward the suitcase. “I have to write up my lesson plans for next semester.”

Darius continued toward his apartment building. “It’s a good thing your suitcase has wheels.”

“Yes, that helped.”

Darius broke their companionable silence with a question that had troubled him all week. “Did your parents try to talk you into returning to New York?”

“The subject came up.” Peyton’s expression clouded. “But I told them I’d made my decision.”

“And they accepted that?” Darius followed Peyton up the stairs to his second-floor apartment.

“Not yet.” She shrugged. “They’re not used to me having an opinion that’s different from theirs.”

Outside of his apartment, Darius unlocked his door and let Peyton in first. He stood her suitcase near the entrance to his living room and turned to her.

“If this is what you want—being part of this small-town community, teaching at the local university—don’t let them change your mind.” He searched her eyes as he made his plea. Now that he’d found his heart, he didn’t want it leaving without him.

“They won’t.” Her voice erased the ache of his days and nights without her.

“Then welcome home.” Darius closed the gap between them and lowered his head to properly welcome her back to Trinity Falls and his arms.

The kiss was soft, slow, tentative at first. Then Peyton wrapped her arms around his neck. The hunger shot through him like a bullet. Darius pulled her small, slender body against him. She trembled in his arms. He held her even tighter.

Darius released her, stepping back to help her shed her coat, then his. “I missed you.”

Peyton took his arm and drew him toward his bedroom. “Show me.”

Sunday afternoon, Darius refused to think about returning to work Monday morning. He loved his job with the
Monitor
, but this had been one of the best weekends he’d ever had. He was sprawled on his black leather sofa with Peyton as they watched the college football bowl games, a right of the Christmas season.

Darius scowled as Peyton leaped to cheer the defensive player who’d just forced his team’s interception. “Why are you rooting for Oregon? Before today, you didn’t even know their coach’s name.”

“You’re rooting for Ohio State.” Peyton gestured toward his forty-eight-inch flat-screen television.

“We’re in Ohio.”

“But we can’t both root for the same team. Where’s the fun in that?”

Darius’s doorbell rang. He stood to answer it. “The loser should have to cook dinner.”

“I’d like spaghetti with a small, tossed salad.”

Darius’ smile faded as he checked his peephole. “It’s Ginny Carp.”

“I wonder what she wants.” Peyton sounded as irritated as Darius felt.

He was tempted to ignore their uninvited guest and return to Peyton and the bowl game. But he suspected Ginny wouldn’t go away. He opened the door, angling his body to block Peyton from view.

Ginny wasn’t alone. A tall, well-dressed businessman in a black overcoat stood behind her. Darius nodded to the stranger. The other man didn’t acknowledge him.

Darius turned his attention to his ex-girlfriend-turned-stalker. “Hello, Ginny.”

Her chin-length, dark brown hair was wind tossed. Skinny red cotton pants showed under her quilted winter coat. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Hi, Darius. Is Peyton around?”

“Why are you asking?” His gut told him he wouldn’t like the answer to his question.

“Oh, I’m not asking for myself.” Ginny gestured toward the stranger behind her. “I’m asking for my new best friend, Bruce Grave.”

Behind him, Peyton gasped. The sound was barely audible. But even with his back to her, Darius was in tune with her every movement.

His spine stiffened. He lifted his gaze to the stranger. “Who are you?”

“I’m Peyton’s fiancé.” His voice was taunting. His dark eyes gleamed with contempt.

Darius’s gut had been right. Dammit. His world was shifting around him. The heart he was still getting used to pounded in his chest as though looking for a way out. He turned to Peyton.

“You have a visitor.” His voice sounded strange in his ears. He stepped away from the door, inviting Peyton to join them.

She came forward with stiff, jerky steps as though she wasn’t certain she wanted to move. She stopped beside him and pulled the door wider. Peyton ignored Ginny’s smug expression and addressed only the man who’d called himself her fiancé. “What are you doing here?”

“I should be the one asking you that.” The stranger’s voice was pitch-perfect outrage.

What the hell is going on?
Darius fisted his hands, anxious to find out.

In her peripheral vision, Peyton noticed Ginny standing back as though inviting her to take center stage. Her shock wore off as her muscles warmed beneath her temper.

“You have no right to ask me anything.” Peyton turned to Darius. She saw the hurt, confusion, and anger in his midnight eyes. It broke her heart. “He’s not my fiancé.”

“Then who is he?” Darius’s words were cold.

Bruce looked to Darius. “Has she told you about me?”

“Why should I even mention you to him?” Peyton answered before Darius could. “You have nothing to do with us, so what are you doing here?”

“I came to talk some sense into you.” Bruce gave Darius a scathing look. “I hadn’t realized you’d shacked up with a local.”

Peyton sensed Darius’s anger stirring. Bruce’s comment pricked her temper, too. “There’s nothing you can say that I want to hear, so please leave.”

Peyton shrugged deeper into her black-and-silver TFU sweatshirt. The cold wind had penetrated the material. Her toes were curled, seeking warmth inside her slippers. But there was no way she was letting Ginny or Bruce into Darius’s apartment.

“Our engagement isn’t over.” Bruce pushed his hands into the pockets of his black cashmere winter coat. “I can overlook your infidelity.”

“Our engagement
is
over because I
can’t
overlook yours.” Peyton arched a brow. “How’s Leila?”

“She’s fine.” Bruce met and held her gaze. “She sends her best.”

“How nice of her.” Peyton crossed her arms. “Does she still give good head?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Bruce’s fair skin darkened under a blush. “I don’t understand why you’re jealous of Leila. You have no reason to be.”

Peyton settled her hands on her hips. “She’s welcome to you.”

“Why are you saying this?” Bruce pulled his hands from his pockets and spread his arms. “From the moment I met you, I’ve been faithful to you. I’m still in love with you, Peyton. I want you to be my wife.”

Peyton wanted to spit. Bruce was playing to his audience. She was too afraid to look at Darius. Was he buying this? “You never loved me, Bruce. You were in love with the idea of marrying a partner’s daughter just to further your career.”

Ginny sighed, long and audibly. “Oh, give him another chance. The guy’s in love with you. And you’re perfect for each other. You’re both rich New Yorkers, unlike us dumb, dirt-poor locals.” She sent a glare in Bruce’s direction.

Peyton turned to Ginny. “I know you were hoping that introducing Bruce as my fiancé would come between Darius and me. But Bruce and I are never getting married. I returned his ring. And since Darius has a restraining order against you, I don’t see the two of you getting together, either.”

Ginny gestured toward Darius. “I don’t know, girlfriend. Darius doesn’t look like he’ll give you the happily-ever-after you’re hoping for.”

Peyton glanced at Darius. His features were dark with anger. “Darius?”

He spoke over her. “Ginny, you shouldn’t be here. Take your guest and leave.”

Ginny’s jaw dropped. “But—”

Darius’s voice hardened. “Take your guest and leave. Please.”

Ginny sighed. “Come on, Bruce.”

“Not without my fiancée.” Bruce stood his ground.

Darius straightened to his full height, which was several inches above the other man. He lowered his voice. “The lady said she’s not your fiancée, so there’s nothing and no one for you here.”

Peyton grew increasingly nervous as the two men squared off.

Finally, Bruce blinked. “I’ll leave but only because Peyton Harris is hardly worth fighting over. You’ll soon come to realize that for yourself.”

The words stung as Bruce had intended them to. Peyton stepped back into the apartment, wishing she could sink into the floor.

Darius’s growled response stopped her lowering thoughts. “You’re too self-absorbed to see the worth of the woman you’ve lost. That’s your fault.”

This is what it felt like to have someone in her corner, someone who respected and valued her. Peyton blinked back tears.

Bruce shoved past Ginny and disappeared down the landing. Peyton heard his footfalls on the metal staircase leading to the apartment building’s parking lot. Good riddance.

Ginny looked from Darius to Peyton. Peyton couldn’t read the other woman’s expression. That added to her unease.

“What are you doing, Darius?” Ginny searched his face. “You don’t care about her. You don’t care about anyone. You’re just like your father.”

Peyton glared at Darius’ stalker. She stepped closer to take Ginny to task. But Darius’s cold words stopped her.

“Leave, Ginny, or I’ll call the sheriff’s office. You don’t want your name to appear in another police report, do you?”

Ginny split her glare between the two of them before disappearing from Peyton’s view. Darius closed and locked his front door. His movements were controlled. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? Peyton wished she could read his mind.

“Thank you for defending me to Bruce.” Her voice was tentative. “No one’s ever done that for me before.”

“You lied to me.” Darius spoke with his back to her. His voice was taut, stilted.

Peyton shivered in the sudden cold. “No, I didn’t.”

Darius turned to face her, crossing his arms over his chest. “You didn’t tell me you were engaged. That’s lying by omission.”

“Bruce and I aren’t engaged anymore. I’ve explained that.”

“When did you end your engagement?”

“Before Thanksgiving break.”

“A month ago.” Darius straightened from his front door and paced past her. “So you were engaged when you moved to Trinity Falls. I never saw a ring on your finger.”