He sat for a long time in silence, one hand still resting on the telephone, his eyes fixed on nothing, his thoughts dark and unfocused. He finally stood, grinding a curse out between his teeth. He needed a drink to smooth the edges of the jagged guilt inside him. To ease the regret. To soothe the ache of unfulfilled needs. Maybe to calm the fear.
He picked up the bottle, and reached for a glass. Then he just stood there, unable to move, her words haunting him.
Once again, I was the only one in love.
His hand clenched so tightly around the glass that he was surprised it didn’t shatter. Moving very deliberately, he set the unopened bottle on a high shelf and put the glass back in the cabinet. And then he turned off the light and sank into his usual chair, his hands fisted on his knees.
He wouldn’t numb the pain tonight, he told himself. He deserved to feel it all.
“SHE’S A DELIGHTFUL young woman. Very quiet and refined, exactly what I think you would like. And she loves children. Why don’t you give my great-niece a call?” Martha Godwin urged. “I’m sure you’ll like her.”
Trevor made no effort to be tactful. “I’m really not interested.”
Ignoring the people milling around them in the bank lobby where they’d met by accident, Martha shook a finger at him. “You should listen to me, Trevor. You need a wife and those children need a mother. As interesting as Jamie Flaherty is, I’m sure you realize she’s hardly—”
Trevor didn’t want to hear the end of that sentence. “I have to go. Goodbye, Mrs. Godwin.”
“Now, Trevor, I haven’t finished talking to you.”
Yes, she had. Trevor had no intention of waiting around for more. Ever since word had gotten out that he and Jamie weren’t seeing each other anymore, he’d been besieged by elderly women trying to fix him up. Apparently, they had taken his interest in Jamie as a sign that he was ready to date again.
It was hard enough dealing with his own problems without having to put himself at the mercy of the local matchmakers. And he didn’t want to meet another woman. Jamie was the only woman he wanted—so badly he wasn’t sure he would survive another night without her. And yet he still hadn’t found the courage to go after her. To risk hearing her say that she had finally gotten him out of her system, once and for all.
It was a relief to have even the fifteen minutes of solitude he got during the drive across town. It had been two weeks since he and Jamie had split up, and he had reacted to the breakup the same way he’d handled Melanie’s death. He’d withdrawn, hiding behind work and his children, trying to keep himself too busy to think. Except in the middle of the night, of course, when there had been nothing left to do except sit in his living room and brood.
He missed her. He missed her quirky observations on life, her near-blinding smiles, her contagious sense of humor. Her generous affection—too generous, he had feared. But when it had been focused solely on him, it had been great. She’d been able to make him laugh, to make
him forget. To make him feel alive again. And he missed her.
Even if he could ever convince her to give him another chance—and that was a huge ‘if,’ considering the things he’d said to her—did he really have the courage to try again? For the children’s sake—for his own—should he take the risk again?
He was almost overwhelmed by the urge to say yes. He was fully, angrily aware that it was pure fear that held him back.
JAMIE WAS IMPATIENT for school to start again. As busy as she had kept herself during the two weeks that had passed since Trevor McBride had broken her heart again, it still wasn’t enough. She needed to fill more hours. It was the first week of August and teachers were to report back to school in less than three weeks, she reminded herself. As far as she was concerned, the time couldn’t pass quickly enough.
She’d been fortunate that she hadn’t run into Trevor yet. It was inevitable, of course—Honoria wasn’t that big. And she supposed it really didn’t matter how much time passed before it happened. For the rest of her life, it was going to hurt to see Trevor McBride and know they would never be together.
They ran into each other, almost literally, at the post office. It was raining, and Jamie had forgotten her umbrella. She jumped out of her car and made a dash for the door, skidding to a stop in a puddle of water just before she crashed into the back of someone.
That someone was Trevor.
Glancing down at her, he immediately shifted his large black umbrella so that it sheltered them both, although Jamie was already wet. For one of the few times in her life, she couldn’t think of anything to say. They entered the building in silence. Only when they were inside, out of the rain, did Trevor speak. “It’s really coming down, isn’t it?”
Oh, God, she thought. They were going to have a polite discussion about the weather. She wasn’t sure she could handle that. “Is it? I haven’t noticed.”
The faintly reproachful look he gave her almost broke her heart again. It was so typical of Trevor. “How have you been?” he asked.
“I’ve been better,” she answered candidly, “but I’ve been worse, too, so I won’t complain.”
“Jamie—” He looked suddenly resolute, as if he had just then made up his mind about something. “Let’s get out of here. We can have a cup of coffee or something.”
He didn’t trust her, she reminded herself. He hadn’t trusted her even when he had made love with her. And nothing had ever hurt her more. Not the first time he’d rejected her, when he’d said he was leaving for college and wanted nothing to tie him down in Honoria. Not even the day she had heard that he was engaged, or when she’d read his wedding announcement in the local newspaper that she’d always had mailed to her in New York. She could have lived with the fact that he didn’t love her, but to know he didn’t trust her, that he’d only been using her—that was simply too painful to accept. “No.”
His eyes narrowed in that stubborn look of his. “We need to talk.”
“We talked,” she reminded him. “And, frankly, I didn’t enjoy it much.”
“Damn it—”