“I’d like to see you, Maria. Letter to Reader Title Page Dedication About the Author Letter to Reader Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Epilogue Copyright
“I’d like to see you, Maria.
“You can bring Sam, if you like. Maybe you could show me some of the sights, and I could buy you dinner.”
“I don’t date.” She gave Joe the standard answer she’d used many times. Her hands were trembling. She didn’t look at Joe as she spoke. She was afraid he might see the yearning that welled up in her suddenly at the idea of spending time with him. It might have been dark, but her imagination made that desire feel like a hot, golden glow inside her.
Joe touched her clasped hands, and suddenly the nights were too long and the years ahead stared back at her. “You’re shaking,” he observed softly. “Scared or cold?”
“Scared,” she admitted softly. Looking at Joe in the dim light, she knew he wasn’t the right one. She couldn’t get involved with Joe. She couldn’t get involved with any lawman.
Dear Reader,
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Treat yourself to each and every offering this month. And in future months, look for more of the stories you love...and the authors you cherish.
Enjoy!
Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor Silhouette Romance
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For my mother,
who told me to dream big,
and Cathleen Treacy, my editor,
who helped me get there
ELYSSA HENRY
is the pseudonym of Joyce and James Lavene, a married writing team with over twenty-five years of experience in romance. They share their time with three children and one grandchild. When they aren’t writing, they prowl the roads looking for adventure and the next story that has to be told.
Dear Reader,
We’ve all experienced the loss of a loved one. The heartbreak and loneliness can only be healed by time and patience. The journey continues for those of us left behind, and our lives are changed forever.
Being part of a family is a lifelong bond. Our relationships with those we love give us strength and acceptance as we face the world. Even when a fragile thread of that link is broken, our memories sustain us. As a family, we gather closer, and we hold each other tightly.
And sometimes, a very special person happens our way, and, as a family, we embrace them. Learning to live and trust again, as Maria and Joe do, can be a challenge. Yet creating a new life, forged with love and understanding, is how families are born. We sigh a little for the past, then we move on, with hope, to the future.
Wishing all the best to you and your loved ones,
Chapter One
Maria sighed and stopped the truck.
It had been raining steadily for the past three days, making the landscape look like a French watercolor. Water washed in waves across the cracked window of the pickup truck she drove, and the worn windshield wipers did little to clear the glass.
It was the way he walked that stopped her. Rain ran in rivers down his jacket, his jeans already dark with it. His shoulders were hunched against the onslaught, and he waded through ankle-deep water at the side of the road.
Still, he wasn’t hitchhiking. She couldn’t be sure he needed or wanted a ride. He walked steadily, long legs eating up the distance. There was purpose in his stride.
But they were on a stretch of road that ran through ten miles of jack pine and very little else. The only spot there was a phone, or any type of human environment, was five miles away in Gold Springs, where she was headed.
She backed up carefully, the old truck shuddering, protesting the abuse. She rolled down the window, wondering what she was going to say, hoping he wouldn’t get the wrong idea. Hoping she wasn’t crazy for offering a stranger a ride on a deserted stretch of highway.
“Want a ride?” she yelled past the steady pounding of the rain.
“Yeah, thanks,” he replied simply. He grabbed hold of the door handle and opened the door.
When he swung his long form into the cab; closing the door quickly behind him, she had her first sense of panic.
He was bigger than she’d thought when she’d first seen him, and he looked tough.
“Sorry to get your seat wet,” he said as he rolled up the window. “My name’s Roberts—”
He held out his hand as she held up her tire iron, facing him squarely across the seat.
She didn’t know what she’d expected. Maybe shock, maybe anger, but there was only a mild amusement in his dark eyes.
His face was wet, water dripping from his hair and sun-darkened skin. He looked as though he lived outside. Black hair was slicked back from his high forehead by a careless hand, and his mouth was destined for laughter.
“Joe Roberts,” he concluded, not lowering his hand. His eyes locked on hers. “And I’ll be happy to get out the same way I came in if it’ll make you feel any better.”
“I just wanted you to know that I may be alone but I’m not helpless,” she replied evenly, holding the tire iron in both gloved hands.
“I appreciate that, ma’am.” He nodded slightly. “I was hoping you weren’t going to mug me.”
“I, uh—” She paused and cleared her throat then put the tire iron down beside the seat. “I’ve just never picked a man up before.” Her eyes flew across to his as she realized what she had said. “I mean, given a stranger a ride.”
“I guessed as much. You probably don’t have any business doing it now. But I appreciate it.”
“Maria Lightner.” She put her hand into his, feeling foolish. “I’m going to Gold Springs. It’s just up the road. I thought you could use a lift to a phone or something.”
“As a matter of fact,” he replied as she put the truck into gear, “I’m on my way to Gold Springs. My car broke down about three miles back.”
She glanced at him again. Historians spent time in Gold Springs, but he didn’t look like a historian. Yet, there was something familiar about his name. She was sure he wasn’t a local. Maria had lived in the small town since she’d been born. She knew everyone and their children and grandchildren.
“You could have Billy come out for your car,” she told him, still trying to identify his name. “He owns the only repair shop in town.”
“That’d be great,” he answered. “What about you? What do you do in Gold Springs?”
“I own a small farm, nothing major, just a few acres,” she replied, keeping her eyes on the wet road with great difficulty. His gaze hadn’t moved from her face since she’d started driving. It was unnerving.
“I would’ve never thought of you being a farmer,” he told her, leaning back against the truck door. “You remind me more of a teacher.”
“A teacher?” She laughed. “I hated school.”
“So did my sister, but she teaches now. Third grade. I keep imagining her in the middle of thirty kids. She didn’t even like to baby-sit.”
“I’m afraid I don’t do anything so important.” She shook her head. “I raise herbs and keep a few bees.”
“Really?” He shuddered. “I can’t imagine that. Being a city boy, bugs make me a little shaky.”
“They take some getting used to,” she acknowledged, “but then so would a classroom of thirty eight-year-olds.”
He agreed with a laugh. “I think I could get used to the bugs first.”
The windshield wipers slapped together in the silence for a moment, then Maria had to ask.
“So, are you planning to stay in Gold Springs?” she wondered. It was rare for anyone who wasn’t from there to come to live in the old mining town. “Do you have relatives there?”
“No.” He smiled. “My family’s scattered everywhere in the world except here. I’m starting the new sheriff’s office in Gold Springs. The job came with a house and some land. I think I’m going to be settling down here.”
“What?” She couldn’t believe his words. “You’re Joseph Roberts? From Chicago?”
“Originally.” He shrugged. “I guess it’s true what they say about small towns. News travels fast.”
Maria felt her fingers tighten on the old steering wheel. “You don’t know the half of it.”
She pulled the truck into the parking lot of the old general store, the first place to stop after the small sign that announced the whereabouts of Gold Springs.
“There’s a phone in there,” she told him, seeing the interested eyes looking out the store window as he opened the truck door.
“Thanks.” He nodded and started to climb out. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Roberts,” she said firmly. As soon as the truck door was closed, she pushed the truck into gear and sped out of the parking lot.
Of all the people to have picked up on the road! Joe Roberts didn’t know it, but he was going to have one hell of a time living in Gold Springs! No one wanted him there, and everyone was prepared to tell him.
It was a vain hope, she knew, that no one would recognize her pickup in the rain. When she ran into the house after parking the truck, the phone was already ringing.
“What the hell were you doing?” Tommy Lightner demanded with no preliminary. “You brought Joe Roberts here knowing the way everyone feels? I thought you were with us, Maria?”
“I’m not with anyone.” She shook her head, water droplets flying around her as she put her groceries down and took off her gloves. “I’ve never said that, Tommy.”
“So you’re against us?” he asked hotly.
She let out a long breath. “No, I’m not against you, and I agree, the commissioners should have asked us before they hired him. But trying to take it out on this man is wrong, and everyone knows it. As for giving him a ride, his car had broken down. I didn’t know who he was.”
He was nearly speechless. “You gave a complete stranger a ride?”
“It was raining. I stopped and gave him a ride for the last few miles into town. I didn’t know who he was at the time, but I would have given him a ride anyway, Tommy. He’s still a human being.”
“A human being we don’t want here,” Tommy raged. “Are you forgetting Josh already? Josh would have been sheriff if he hadn’t been killed. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“I have to go, Tommy,” she mumbled wearily into the mouthpiece. “Sam’s due home soon. I’ll talk to you later.”
She hung up, not giving him a chance to say anything they both might regret later. He was her brother-in-law and Sam’s uncle. She didn’t want to alienate him.
She bustled around the kitchen, stowing away bottles and cans until she paused to look out the big window above the sink.
Josh had loved that window, that view of the rolling, green hills that made up their land. Just hearing his name still hurt, but that didn’t make it right to take it out on Joe Roberts. He was only doing his job. The county had paid him to come to Gold Springs.
The town had been in need of a sheriffs department away from the county police force that cruised by when there was trouble. The rapid encroachment of the outlying housing developments was making its formation even more important.
Gold Springs was growing. The people needed the stability a full-time sheriff’s department would bring to the area.
But everyone resented the fact that they hadn’t chosen another man from town to head the project after Josh had died.
Josh Lightner had been the town constable for ten years after old Mike Matthews had retired. When Josh was gone, Mike Matthews had agreed to step into the role, but only until they could find someone to replace him.
Tommy Lightner had been deputy to both men, and everyone had expected the county commission to name him as the new sheriff. But they had done an about-face and hired someone with experience from outside the area.
“Mom, Mom!” Her son burst into the kitchen, the door slamming against the wall with his exuberance. “Guess what happened? My science project won second place.”
He held up the red ribbon proudly and grinned at her, the sight of several missing teeth in the front of his mouth tugging at her heartstrings.
Sam was the image of his father. Light brown hair, big blue eyes. Even the scattering of freckles on his nose and the tiny dimple in his cheek.
Thinking of Josh, of all the things he would miss, brought tears to her eyes as she knelt and hugged Sam to her.
“That’s wonderful,” she told him. “After all the hard work we put into it, I’m glad it paid off.”
“Don’t cry, Mom.” He touched her cheek with his dirty hand. “It was just a science project.”
“I know,” she answered, her voice husky despite her efforts to control it. “And I’m not really crying.”
But they both knew better. Sam was only eight, but he had seen his mother cry too many times since his father’s death to be misled.
He hugged her tightly. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, Sam.” She hugged him again, then collected herself, stood up and took his heavy book bag and lunch box from him. “And I think we should go out and celebrate tonight. What do you think about Pizza Express?”
“Cool!” he said. “Can I get tokens to play the games, too?”
“I think so,” she agreed. “Put your stuff away and we’ll go. It’s supposed to rain all night again, and I’d like to be back before it gets late.”
He smirked. “Oh, Mom! You think late is seven or eight. People stay out until ten sometimes, you know.”
“Not people who have to go to school tomorrow,” she retorted, putting on her coat while he ran up the stairs to his bedroom.
Maria wiped her cheeks with an impatient hand. As often as she promised herself that she wouldn’t cry anymore, it still caught her by surprise from time to time.
It wasn’t like it could bring him back. Josh and their life together were gone. No wailing or sighing could change that fact. Yet she still cried for him sometimes in the night when the waste of his life choked up inside of her.
The rain had let up as Maria and Sam went out to start up the old truck. They didn’t go into the town of Rockford often. A good thing, she mused, since she didn’t know how many miles the truck had left to go on its life.
“We need a new truck,” Sam told her as the truck putt-putted down the driveway. “Ronnie’s father just got a new one.”
“I know,” she said, looking over her shoulder until they were clear of the drainage ditch on either side of the road.
“Uncle Tommy said he could get you a new one,” Sam informed her innocently.
Maria grimaced in the rearview mirror. Blue eyes reflected the information back to her that she couldn’t tell her son, that his uncle had made the same offer to her under different circumstances. And she hadn’t liked the strings that were attached.
“We get along fine with what we have,” she replied calmly, pushing a strand of reddish brown hair from her cheek.
“We could get along better with a new truck,” Sam responded, looking out the window at the passing landscape.
“You’re sounding more like your father every day.” She shook her head, then glanced at him. “Stubborn like him, too.”
He nodded solemnly. “Thanks. Everyone knows my dad was a great guy. He was a hero.”
“So he was,” she whispered through a tight throat. She looked up quickly when a solitary figure came into view as they were passing the general store on the way out of Gold Springs going toward Rockford.
“Hitchhiker,” Sam said, identifying the man.
“Not exactly,” Maria said, drawing in a deep breath as she made her decision before they reached him.
“What are you doing? Mom? Are we picking up a hitchhiker?”
“You watch too much television, Sam,” she countered, slowing down. “Scoot over here and be quiet a minute.”
Sam stared at her but he did as he was told, pushing away from the door and hugging her side.
“Need a lift somewhere?” she offered, her heart pounding in her throat as Joe opened the cab door.
He took in the addition to the truck’s passengers and ended up with his dark eyes locked on hers. “I think you know the answer to that.”
There was no laughter in that gaze, she noticed. She had the grace to look at her hands briefly. He was angry, and she didn’t blame him. The county commissioners had put them all in a bad place.
“Get in and I’ll take you into town,” she offered, knowing she was asking for trouble. It just seemed like the least she could do.
Joe climbed into the cab and pulled the door closed. Her light perfume curled around him invitingly. He felt her eyes on him as he fastened his seat belt and he fumbled with the clasp. When he looked up, her gaze slid away. There was no mistaking that the boy was hers. The big, soulful blue eyes fastened on him in a way the woman’s wouldn’t have, but they were identical.
A pang of regret shivered through him. A different tarn, another road. The boy could have been his son. He shrugged it off. Regret was something he had lived with for a long time.
“Billy wouldn’t bring in your car,” she guessed, starting down the road, turning on the windshield wipers as the rain began again.
“I would’ve had to use the phone to find out,” he replied tautly. “Since all the phone lines were down in the entire town and I don’t know where to find the repair shop...”
“The phones were working,” Sam volunteered quickly. “Mr. Maddox, the bus driver, stopped off and called home after we turned past the store.”
“I guess there was some mistake.” Maria grimaced at her son.
“I guess so.” Joe stared out the window. “A big mistake.”
Maria concentrated on her driving, trying not to think about what she was doing. They were nearly to Rockford before they passed a blur of red through the rain-coated windows.
“Is that your car?” Sam asked eagerly.
“That’s it.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Sam.” Maria tried to hush her son’s curiosity.
“It’s all right,” Joe told her, glancing at her taut face over her son’s head. “It’s not his fault.”
Maria kept her eyes stubbornly on the road as he explained that he had forgotten to pack another spare tire after the first one had blown out about a hundred miles away.
“That was pretty careless,” Sam remarked, eyeing the stranger warily.
“It was,” Joe replied steadily, then smiled at him. “Very careless.”
“What kind of car was that?” Sam asked. “I think I saw one like it in a magazine.”
“It’s a Porsche,” he told the boy. “It’ll do a hundred and sixty down a straightaway like this.”
“Wow! Can I have a ride sometime?” Sam looked at him in a new light. Anyone who had a car like that couldn’t be all bad.
“Not when it’s going a hundred and sixty down a straightaway,” Maria told him bluntly, stopping at the first red light at the edge of Rockford.
She looked at Joe Roberts in the fading daylight, wondering why on earth. she had stopped to help him again. She didn’t know anything about him except that he was qualified to run a sheriff’s department.
And that she felt sorry for him. He hadn’t seen the house the commission had promised him yet.
“I’m trading it in, anyway,” Joe told him. “Just as soon as I replace the tire.”
“Why?” Sam demanded.
“I think I’m going to need something a little different now,” Joe replied thoughtfully. “Maybe something more like this truck.”
“You can have this one,” Sam offered. “Maybe you could buy it from Mom and then she could afford to get a new one.”
Maria stepped on the gas, feeling annoyance warm her face. There was no such thing as a tactful eight-year-old.
Joe laughed. “I have a younger sister,” he told her in a low voice. “My mother made me take her out on dates with me so I wouldn’t get into trouble. Trust me. This is nothing.”
Sam rambled on about his science fair project, describing in detail how the mosquito larvae hatched into mosquitoes. He explained that they were on their way out to dinner because of his second-place award and that he would be happy to show the project and the award to Joe sometime.
“I’d like to see it,” Joe assured him. “Any place is fine,” he told Maria as they cruised down the crowded city streets.
“I know a place right next door to where we’re going,” she told him, wondering if her knuckles were turning white with the pressure she was exerting on the steering wheel. “You could get your tire there, and we could run you out with it on the way home.”
“That’s way too much,” Joe said. “The ride in is fine.”
“It’s no trouble,” she lied. She wasn’t sure it wasn’t going to be more trouble than it was worth. Still, she felt obligated to help him.
The commission had brought him a long way and promised him a good job. Tommy and his family wouldn’t let him stay, no matter what it took to convince him. He was a stranger, but anyone deserved better.
“I appreciate it.” He tried to see her face, but the light was gone. She had to be going out on a limb, and he couldn’t figure out why. “I’d like to buy your pizza, if that’s okay.”
“Great!” Sam said happily. “That’s more coins for the games!”
“Wait a sec,” Joe said. “This isn’t one of those gizmo games and pizza places, is it? I hate those places.”
“There’s a few games,” Sam said defensively. “They’re in another room.”
“That’s not it,” Joe answered as they opened the truck doors to get out. “They know me at all of them. I’m the best, you know.”
Sam stared at him with newfound awe for an instant then rolled his eyes. “Get out of here! I could take you on at any of the jumping games. Nobody beats me at those.”
“I’m sorry,” Joe told him mournfully. “Maybe I shouldn’t go in with you—”
“I don’t believe it.” Sam laughed, sliding across the seat to jump down. “You can’t be that good. Nobody’s that good.”
Joe shook his head and stared at the ground. “Well, anyway, your mom hasn’t said—”
“Mom.” Sam turned to Maria, who’d been about to give his offer a flat thanks, but no thanks. “We have to let him go with us. I know he’s lying.”
Maria glanced at Joe’s dark eyes fixed on her son’s back, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
She sighed, hoping they wouldn’t run into anyone they knew. “He can come with us. Can we get out of the rain now?”
It was crowded for a Wednesday night. Maria winced at every voice, worrying that someone she knew would be there. No one from Gold Springs would understand her helping Joe Roberts.
She wasn’t sure she understood it herself.
They found a table and ordered pizza, then Joe and Sam disappeared into the game room. The music was loud, and the excited screams from the game room punctuated the laughter and the calls for pickup in the pizza kitchen.
Costumed characters posed for pictures with their arms around children and adults alike. Flashing lights danced in time to the music while a group of waiters sang “Happy Birthday” slightly off tune.
Maria put a hand to her head. It was beginning to ache. Her life wasn’t usually more stressful than trying to get a good price from her herb crop. A chance encounter had made her placid existence choppy.
It wasn’t that she was afraid of her neighbors and family. She just didn’t want them to think she didn’t support them. It wasn’t in her nature to thrive on controversy.
“Wow!” Sam jumped into his chair at her side, his face flushed but happy. “He’s good.”
Joe took the chair opposite and grinned at him across the table. “I’ve spent so much time in places where there wasn’t anything else to do.” He shrugged. “That’s why I’m the best.”
“He might be.” Sam grinned then jumped up. “Can I go back and try Wrangler again?”
“Go ahead,” Maria told him. “The pizzas haven’t even gone in yet.”
“Thanks.” He took a few more coins from her. “If I keep practicing, I could be as good as Joe. He said I have natural talent.”
Maria smiled and glanced at Joe. “That’s great. Good luck.”
“Call me if the pizza comes,” he yelled as he was running away.
Maria faced the man across the gleaming white table. “I’m not sure I should thank you for telling him to practice.”
“Definitely not.” He shook his head, resting his arms on the table. “I wanted some time to talk to you alone. It seemed the easiest way.”
Maria tensed, looking at a napkin she had neatly folded on the table.
“Look, I’m sorry about what’s happened,” she said. “It got out of hand.”
“What exactly has happened?” he asked, leaning forward, trying to catch her eye. “Surely I have the right to know that, anyway.”
“It’s not easy to explain.” She unfolded the white paper napkin. “The county commission and the town disagreed about who should run the new sheriff’s department. It sounds silly, I know, but the town felt like it should be someone from Gold Springs. Someone who knows the area.”
“They told me that there wasn’t anyone who knew enough to set up the type of department they wanted,” Joe explained.
“The Lightners are the biggest problem.” She bit her lip, feeling as though she was somehow betraying Tommy and the others.
“Your husband?” he wondered.
Her eyes met his then, and the depth of sorrow he saw there made him sorry he had wanted to know the truth.
“My brother-in-law. My husband died two years ago. He was Gold Springs’ constable. He might have been the new sheriff.”
“I’m sorry.” He felt trite when the words were out of his mouth. “This must be hard for you.”
She looked up again, her hair falling back a little from her face. “Actually, it’s not like that for me. It seems to hurt the others, Tommy and Josh’s parents, more than me. Maybe that’s because I always hated Josh doing that job. It’s what killed him.”
Joe drew a deep breath and looked away for an instant, not relishing the memories those words dredged up for him. “So it’s nothing personal. They would have hated anyone.”
“That’s true,” she agreed with a shrug. “Only Tommy would have been good enough for the Lightners once Josh was gone.”
“Why didn’t Tommy get the training and take the job?” he asked, his voice harsh.
Maria smiled. “The commission made it clear from the beginning that they wanted someone with experience in setting up a sheriff’s department. Even if he’d had the training, Tommy would have been out of his depth. Josh had law enforcement training. They would have worked with him.”
Maria looked at the paper napkin only to find that she had shredded it.
Joe touched her hand lightly, stopping its restless destruction, then jerked his fingers away as though he’d been burned.
“I’m sorry to cause you this trouble. There wasn’t any way for me to know.”
“There wasn’t,” she agreed, picking up the pieces of napkin and depositing them in a trash container near their table. “I’m sorry for you, too.” She took her seat again and looked at him more thoroughly in the bright lights.
He had a kind face, she thought, and eyes that did understand what she was feeling, because he looked as though he had been hurt a few times himself. And there was something more. Something she’d never expected to feel again. Something she thought had died with her husband. Heat. Fire. When Joe touched her; when he looked at her. She didn’t want to feel that way but she couldn’t deny it. His voice seemed to hold her, stroke her. His words shivered down her spine.
“Don’t be.” He smiled, his eyes glittering as he made a rapid decision. He wasn’t running anymore. From his memories or this place. “I don’t plan on going anywhere.”
“Maybe you don’t understand—”
The pizza arrived, accompanied by Sam’s loud whoops of excitement.
“Look who’s here, Mom.” He dragged his towheaded friend to the table. “Ronnie’s science project won first prize, and his dad brought him here, too.”
“Dad says we should share a table,” Ronnie said in a voice that said he didn’t care as long as he could get back to the games. “He’s right over there.”
Maria looked across the crowded restaurant, and Ronnie’s father, Ron, waved to her enthusiastically. He pointed at the empty seats at his table and motioned for her to join him.
“Oh, God,” she moaned. “I can’t believe it.”
“They better get used to the idea.” Joe waved and flashed a smile. “I guess it might as well be now.”
“I have to live here,” she told him. “Everyone’s going to think I planned this.”
“I’m sorry, Maria,” he assured her quietly. “I didn’t plan this, either.”
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