Читать книгу Second Chances - Valerie Hansen - Страница 9

Belinda Carnes was busy sorting local business files in the tall cabinet at the rear of her office when she heard the familiar ding of the electric eye that monitored the front door. She smoothed her skirt and breezed around the corner into the reception area with an expectant smile, recognizing her visitor immediately. “Sheila! Hi.”

“Aren’t you going to say, ‘Welcome to Serenity. How can the Chamber of Commerce help you’?”

“Nope. I save that speech for the tourists.” Belinda’s smile widened. “And I leave out the part about the ticks and chiggers eating us alive all summer. What’s up?”

“You mean you haven’t heard?”

“Heard what? What are you talking about?”

“He’s back.”

“Who’s back?” The fine, auburn hair at the nape of Belinda’s neck began to prickle.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Sheila said. “You know very well who I mean. Verleen saw that lawyer, Paul Randall, coming out of the market downtown. He’d been buying groceries. Bags of them. I’d say that means he plans to stay with those ancient aunts of his for quite a while.”

Belinda blinked rapidly and paused to digest her friend’s comments. The whole idea of Paul being anywhere nearby tied her stomach in knots, made her pulse speed. “I’d heard he was going to help the Whitaker sisters with the legalities of their real estate deal but I didn’t think he’d actually come here to do it. What gall.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a long, complicated story.” She sighed. “Let’s just say Paul didn’t turn out to be the wonderful guy I thought he was.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

“You mean you haven’t heard the gossip yet? Amazing. The way rumors fly in this town, I’d have thought you’d already know the whole story.”

“I’d rather hear it straight from you,” Sheila said with undisguised interest.

Belinda filled her in concisely, trying to leave out any supposition. She concluded with, “No one has ever proved who was—or wasn’t—responsible for setting fire to the church…but nobody had any real motive except Paul.”

“Wow. No wonder you don’t want to come face-to-face with him.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

“Yeah, well…” A sly smile lifted Sheila’s lips. “That’s really too bad. I hear Randall is the best-looking guy around. And rich. I was kind of hoping you might want to introduce me to him. There aren’t that many eligible men in this area, you know.”

Belinda was flabbergasted. “You’d be interested in him, even after what I just told you?”

“Why not? Lots of us do crazy things when we’re teenagers. It looks to me like he’s reformed.”

Shaking her head, Belinda made a face at her friend. “Not reformed. Just turned his talents to getting back at Serenity by legal means. Don’t forget the lawsuit against the town fathers a few years back. When he proved land-use discrimination and the councilmen had to back down, they all lost face. Half of them weren’t reelected.”

“So? That’s just business.”

“Not in a close-knit town like this one. Around here, it’s considered a vendetta. That’s another reason I don’t want anything to do with him.”

“Guilt by association, you mean? I’m surprised you don’t already have a problem with that. I hear that you used to tell everybody you were going to marry Paul.”

Belinda blushed. “I was just a high school kid with a stupid crush on the only boy in town my father refused to let me date. In other words, a typical teenager. Besides, that was ten years ago. Believe me, I’m cured and everybody knows it…especially me.”

“Being young doesn’t mean you can’t fall in love for keeps,” Sheila countered. “My mom got married when she was seventeen. She and Dad are still doing okay.”

“My parents had a wonderful relationship, too. Everything changed when my mother died, though. The only thing that saved Daddy’s sanity was focusing all his energy on his church.”

“The one that burned down?”

“Yes.” The memories of her late father’s subsequent slide into depression brought Belinda’s thoughts full circle. “The doctors said he died from a heart attack but I think he just gave up caring about anything, even his own life, after he lost the church.” She hardened her heart. “Getting back to Paul Randall. I don’t care where he stays or what he does while he’s here as long as I don’t have to deal with him. I’ll be delighted if I never lay eyes on him again.”

“You sound like you really mean that.”

“I’ve never meant anything more in my whole life.”

Paul managed to keep himself occupied all afternoon by strolling around town and stopping to make casual conversation whenever he got the opportunity. He was amazed at how few of the old-timers recognized him at first. And at how shocked they looked when he identified himself. Clearly, they remembered the punk kid with the perpetual chip on his shoulder and were having trouble believing the changes he’d made in his image. Good, he thought, satisfied. That was exactly what he’d intended.

Beginning at the Mom and Pop café and gas station located next to the only traffic light in town, he worked his way through the pharmacy and the farm bureau office, then strolled the last block to the town square. A green, close-cropped lawn surrounded the courthouse. Most of the benches in the shade of the maple trees were occupied by old men, heads nodding sleepily. As usual, Serenity was so serene it gave him the willies.

Paul snorted in self-derision as he entered the hardware store on the north side of the square. All the businesses on that block faced the old brick courthouse, which meant he could stand on the opposite side of the square and position himself to look directly at the door to the Chamber of Commerce without attracting undue attention.

Ever since he’d learned Belinda worked there, he’d been trying to ignore that particular office. And he’d failed miserably. It looked like he was either going to have to pay his old flame a visit and try to clear the air, or resign himself to his grinding gut and buy a giant supply of antacids to calm the ulcer that usually flared up when he was under a lot of stress.

Paul opted for the visit. He’d written dozens of letters to Belinda over the years but had never mailed any of them. Initially, he’d focused on defending himself until he’d realized how futile that was. Later, he’d simply apologized for his anger. The last attempt had been a letter of condolence when he’d heard that her father had died. Worried that it might seem inappropriate because of his volatile past association with the man, he’d torn it up instead of sending it.

Remembering, he paused near the front of the hardware store, just inside the door.

“Something I can help you with, mister?” the skinny, slightly stooped proprietor asked. “You’d best hurry. We’re about to close.”

Paul snapped out of his reverie and smiled pleasantly. “Sorry. I was just looking, anyway. Do you happen to know how late the Chamber of Commerce stays open?”

“Till five, like the rest of us,” the man said. “Why?”

“Just wondered.”

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

Chuckling, Paul shook his head. That was at least the tenth time that day he’d been asked the same question in exactly the same words. “Nope. I’m an outsider. Definitely an outsider.” He offered his hand. “The name’s Randall. The Whitaker sisters are my great-aunts.”

Accepting Paul’s hand, the proprietor shook it heartily. “Well, well. I didn’t know Miss Prudence and Miss Patience had kin in these parts. Where’d you say you was from?”

“I settled in Harrison after I got out of law school,” Paul told him. “I’m just visiting here.”

“Well, if you’re fixin’ to repair that old house of theirs, we got the best selection of plumbing and electrical parts in the county.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for your time.” When the man opened his mouth and began to add to his sales pitch, Paul headed for the door. “I can’t stay and talk right now, but I’ll be sure to check back with you later. I need to run over to the Chamber office before it closes.”

“Tell Miss Belinda I said howdy.”

“Right.” Waving a congenial goodbye, Paul crossed the wide, shady street at an angle and started to jog across the courthouse lawn. The digital clock in front of the bank on the north-west corner read four fifty-five.

All afternoon Belinda had fidgeted at her desk, eagerly awaiting quitting time so she could close the office. She’d already straightened the racks of brochures and maps several times and dusted everything in sight. All that was left to do was turn off the lights, lock up and make a dash for home. The sooner the better.

At five minutes to five, she started for the door, the click of her heels echoing in the empty office. Surely all the evenings she’d stayed open late would make up for leaving a few minutes early this time. One hand was poised over the Open sign, the other reaching for the lock, when a dark-haired, sophisticated-looking man in navy blue slacks and a sky-blue sport shirt appeared at the door.

He was tall, broad-shouldered and moved with an athletic grace. His hair was cut in the smooth, full style of a successful executive, except that it was long enough in the back to brush against his shirt collar.

Belinda’s heart recognized him a few seconds before her brain agreed. She froze in mid-motion, sorely tempted to slam the door and bolt it. She didn’t care if she did represent Serenity. That didn’t mean she had to be nice to the likes of Paul Randall.

He glanced at his gleaming gold wristwatch. “I thought I still had a few minutes.”

“Sorry. The office is closed.”

“Too bad,” he said with a wry smile. “I need some information about this interesting little town.”

Belinda was not about to let him get the upper hand. “Fine.” She grabbed a random handful of colorful brochures pertaining to the area and thrust them at him. “Here.”

“I’m afraid that won’t do,” Paul said, stepping through the half-open door.

She gave ground. “I told you. The office is closed.” The spicy aroma of his aftershave affected her strongly and made her want to put even more distance between them.

Paul’s smile grew into a self-satisfied grin as he looked her up and down. “Humor me. I have as much right as anybody to be treated with respect. All I want from you is a few facts.”

Whether she liked it or not, he’d made a good point. Fair was fair. Besides, it wouldn’t do to let on that she was still mad enough at him to make her blood boil. A contrary man like Paul Randall would probably enjoy seeing that she was upset, and she wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.

Circling him widely, hurriedly, Belinda said, “All right. What can the Serenity Chamber of Commerce do for you? I’ll give you two minutes.”

Paul’s gaze met hers, challenged it, held it. “I’m good, but I’m not that good. Perhaps I’d better come back tomorrow when you have more free time.”

And make me go through this emotional turmoil all over again? No way! The smartest thing she could do was give him the information he wanted, right now, and be rid of him.

“That won’t be necessary,” she said, pleased at how calm and businesslike she sounded in spite of her quaking insides and righteous indignation. She rounded the end of the counter to put a solid physical barrier between them. “What is it you need?”

“Well… A list of the commercial property within four blocks in any direction from my aunts’ estate, for starters.”

“You need to go to the county office for that and you know it,” Belinda said, scowling. “What do you really want?”

Inwardly tense, Paul kept his posture relaxed, his smile as enigmatic as he could make it. He’d known that facing Belinda again would be difficult but he’d had no idea what a strong, gut-level reaction he’d have to her. That had been such a surprise he found he could hardly think straight, let alone come up with reasonable-sounding excuses for tracking her down while he was in town.

The most sensible option was probably to tell her the plain truth. The minute he’d set foot in Serenity again he’d felt he had to see her, to talk to her, to make her understand that he hadn’t been responsible for the loss of her father’s church. He was good at arguing court cases. It should have been easy to present a logical defense of his innocence.

Unfortunately, Paul had to admit he was currently standing on a foundation of emotional quicksand and sinking fast. Any notion he’d had about being permanently immune to Belinda’s charms had vanished the moment he’d faced her again. If anything, the attraction he felt now was stronger than ever. That conclusion didn’t astonish him nearly as much as the fact that the memory of her rejection still hurt.

If it hadn’t been for her cautious expression and stiff, standoffish posture he might have foolishly relaxed his guard and told her how he felt, then and there. Which would have been the dumbest thing he’d done for ten years. Sharing some information about his professional concerns, however, didn’t seem like such a bad idea. At least it would give him something intelligent to say.

“I was hoping you’d have time to bring me up to speed on the way Serenity is developing. You know. New business trends, population demographics, that kind of thing. Sort of an overview of what you see as the future of the town.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’ve not only lived here for a long time, your job has put you right into the center of commerce.” He quickly pressed on, hoping to sway her decision before she had a chance to think it through. “So, since you’re about to close the office, how about I make reservations at Romano’s for tonight? We can relax and talk over dinner.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. No way!” Belinda’s heart was racing and her mouth was as dry as the bottom of Lick Creek in mid-July! Didn’t he remember anything about their last day together? About their quarrel? About the things she’d said to him? The passage of time had not changed her mind. Too many unanswered questions remained. Important questions. Questions she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask because hearing the answers might prove too painful.

“Why not? Got a date with your doctor friend? I hear you two are quite a couple.”

Obviously, Paul had been prying. “That’s none of your business,” she said stiffly.

“I see.”

Belinda was surprised when he didn’t immediately argue or try to manipulate her. As a practicing attorney he was obviously used to getting the results he wanted. Waiting for his counterattack, she pressed her lips into a thin line.

“Well, maybe some other time,” Paul said, straightening and smiling woodenly. “I’ll call you.”

She noticed that his smile no longer brought a mischievous sparkle to his dark, compelling eyes. His gaze had grown shadowy, brooding, the way it used to be. The way it had been the night of the awful fire.

That memory was enough to keep her from holding back any longer. “No. I don’t want you to call.” Belinda shook her head firmly for emphasis. “We have nothing more to talk about.”

Smile fading, he turned to leave. His voice sounded emotionless when he said, “For once, you may be right.”

Belinda stopped by her grandmother Eloise’s that evening. Eloise had sprained her ankle and was supposed to stay off her feet as much as possible. She wasn’t behaving, of course. Belinda hadn’t expected her to listen to medical advice, not even Sam’s, which was why she’d decided to drop in and volunteer to cook the evening meal.

Standing at her grandmother’s stove, Belinda got more and more distracted as she began to contrast the differences between Sam and Paul. Sam was steady, comfortable, and he fit effortlessly into her daily life. She’d never had a moment’s worry about what he might be doing or who he might be with. On the other hand, being around Paul had always made her feel disquieted, as if she were standing at the edge of a precipice in a stiff wind and was about to be blown over the edge. Even now, though he’d looked as refined as any other professional man, his presence had sent a chill up her spine and made the hair on the back of her neck prickle.

Daydreaming, she nearly burned the black-eyed peas she was fixing as a side dish.

Eloise hobbled up to rescue the smoking pot and stirred rapidly. “Goodness me. That was close.”

“Sorry. I guess I wasn’t paying enough attention.”

“No problem. I got to ’em in time.” She paused, then asked, “So, tell me, how was Paul Randall?”

Whirling, Belinda stared. “How did you know I’d seen him?”

“Lucky guess.” Eloise set the pot off to the side and plopped her slightly overweight body into a kitchen chair. “Well? Was he polite? Did he show his raisin’, or did he manage to behave himself?”

“If you mean, did he grab me and kiss me senseless the way he used to, the answer is no. He’s more out-of-place in Serenity than ever, but he didn’t say or do anything embarrassing.”

“That’s a relief. You never know what might get back to Sam if somebody was to see you and Paul acting too friendly.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m not even friends with Paul. Not anymore. Besides, Sam’s not the jealous type. He may be practical to a fault but he’s also predictable. He’d never jump to conclusions.” Belinda turned off the stove and scooped thin strips of sautéed steak and onions from her frying pan into a serving bowl. “He’s completely logical. That’s why I believe him when he says Serenity’s going to boom. He’s even bought the building where his office is. Says he’s planning to add another wing to it.”

“Well, well. I suppose that explains why he was so keen on being voted president of the Chamber. I’m not real happy to hear he wants to start changin’ things, though.” She lowered her voice to add, “’Course, he’s not from around here, so you never know.”

Pensive, Belinda recalled what Paul had always said about not being accepted by the established core of Serenity’s population. In his case, he was right. It wasn’t that folks were cruel. Some newcomers just fit in better than others, especially if they made an effort to become a useful part of the community. Sam was making that effort. Paul and his father never had.

She remembered the first time she’d set eyes on Paul. His father had come to Serenity because of his late wife’s shirttail relation to the Whitaker family and landed a job as a mechanic at the local gas station.

Paul had shown up for his first day as a senior at Serenity High sporting threadbare clothes, a worn leather jacket and a sullen, uncooperative attitude. Belinda had viewed him more as a lost soul than a rebel and had offered friendship. In no time, she’d fallen head-over-heels in love. She sighed. Too bad Paul’s feelings for her hadn’t been strong enough to overcome their differences.

“I’d like some of that before it gets cold,” Eloise gibed, gesturing toward the bowl Belinda was holding. “Unless you plan on keepin’ it all for yourself.”

The comment brought her back to the present with a jolt. “Of course not. I…I was just afraid it was too hot for you to handle, that’s all.”

“Oh? With that faraway look in your eyes I figured you might be thinking about how you felt when you ran into your old boyfriend today.” She grinned. “Was he too hot to handle, too?”

“Gram! Shame on you. Wash your mouth out!” Cheeks flaming, Belinda took her place at the table and refused to acknowledge her grandmother’s triumphant expression. It was impossible to ignore her jubilant comments, however.

“Aha! I thought so. Good! Maybe now we’ll see some action around here. A little honest competition should shake up Sam Barryman and get things moving. He may not be perfect but he’s the best catch around…and a doctor, to boot. You two have been courtin’ for a whole year. It’s time he got serious and asked you to marry him. Fish or cut bait, I always say.”

Belinda stared at her plate without seeing it. Sam had already asked her to be his wife—more than once—and she’d put him off. At the time, she hadn’t realized what was stopping her. Sam was personable and reliable, he went to her church, and she was truly fond of him. So why not make a commitment? Why, indeed. Now that she’d been around Paul again, she was beginning to understand that the problem lay with her, not with Sam.

And she didn’t like that conclusion one bit.

The Whitaker estate was a run-down relic from a bygone era. It was also a prime piece of real estate, which was why Paul had decided to spend a few extra days poking around in Serenity. He knew his elderly twin aunts had no spare funds with which to have the place independently appraised. He also knew that the sale of the property was their last chance to provide for the fulfillment of any dreams beyond day-to-day subsistence. At eighty-three, they didn’t have the option of going back to work teaching if they wanted anything more than the basic necessities.

He wheeled his black Lexus into the circular driveway of the old frame house and parked. The narrow track branched so that visitors who had arrived by carriage in the old days could enter by the front door, then send their driver to the back to stable the horses without having to turn the team around. The carriage house in the rear had eventually been converted into a garage.

Pausing in the quiet of the late evening, Paul gripped the steering wheel and took a deep, settling breath. Maybe he’d made a mistake by coming here. Even Aunt Patience, usually the sprightly, happy twin, had been acting reserved. Prudence, on the other hand, had always moped around as if she’d just lost her best friend, so he couldn’t tell if she was glad he’d responded to her request for legal help or not.

But that wasn’t his real reason for questioning the wisdom of his decision to visit Serenity, was it? He immediately pictured Belinda. They’d had some really good times together. On her eighteenth birthday she’d snuck away to spend the afternoon at the river with him. Her auburn hair was longer back then, with golden highlights glistening in the sun, and she’d pinned it up because the weather was so hot and sticky.

They’d walked beside the slow-flowing water, pausing in the shade to share a tender kiss. Paul remembered her wide, innocent, blue eyes looking at him as if he were the perfect man. Faint freckles had dotted her pale skin.

She’d wrinkled her nose and made a silly face, pleading with him. “Come on. It’s just a picnic. Please? Promise you’ll go with me?”

“A church picnic,” Paul had said.

“So? Daddy won’t bite.”

“I’m not so sure. He didn’t look real pleased when I sat down next to you last Sunday.”

She giggled. “I know. Wasn’t he funny? It was like he preached his whole sermon right to you.”

“Yeah. I noticed.” Paul grimaced. “I felt like a bug under a microscope.”

Belinda slipped her arms around his waist and stepped into his embrace. “I’m so sorry. That was partly my fault. When Daddy asked me why I was spending so much time with you, I told him I was trying to get you converted.”

“I don’t need saving,” Paul recalled telling her. Back then, he’d seriously considered walking the aisle some Sunday just to please her and make points with her father. Fortunately, he’d decided there was no way he could fake salvation, any more than he could convince the sanctimonious residents of Serenity that he was just as good as they were.

Pensive, he sighed. Funny how things had worked out. His father had ruined his own life by making lousy choices, had left the stigma of a convicted arsonist on his only son and had seen to it that they stayed ostracized by living a transient, antisocial life.

Yet it was that same miserable existence that had made Paul so determined to succeed, to earn enough money to change his lifestyle and make himself into someone entirely different. A professional man people could look up to. Respect.

And that strategy had worked until he’d faced Belinda Carnes again and sensed her continuing distrust. He’d hoped she’d give him some sign that she might be willing to forgive and forget. Maybe even take up where they’d left off. After her clear rebuff today, however, he knew better.

Innocent until proven guilty didn’t apply to him. Not in Serenity. Belinda obviously still blamed him for setting fire to her father’s church. Chances were, so did almost everybody else in town, even if they didn’t have the guts to say so to his face.

Paul’s jaw muscles tightened, and his forehead furrowed. He didn’t care what the others thought of him, but Belinda’s opinion mattered. A lot. Whether they ever got back together or not, it was imperative that he prove to her he’d been innocent of any wrongdoing.

He sure wished he knew how he was going to do that.