woman is not her. Perhaps if he repeated those words often enough, his heart would stop pounding so loudly every time he thought about Laurie Carter.
Twelve months ago, he would have said his heart couldn’t pound. If anyone had asked him such a stupid question, he’d have explained it wasn’t possible for his heart to do anything. Because the night Carla died, Cameron had been left with a gaping hole in place of a heart. So he supposed the fact he could feel something in the region of his chest in place of the awful, aching heaviness that had been there for the last year was a positive step. He just wasn’t sure it should be focused on this stranger who reminded him of Carla. Reminded him? He almost laughed out loud at the understatement. Laurie Carter was Carla’s double. The resemblance was uncanny enough to be scary. It was frightening the hell out of Cameron. In a spine-chilling yet surprisingly exciting way.
He steered the car up the narrow track that led to the Paradise Creek vacation village. A group of twenty or more log cabins clustered together at the base of the mountain like children clinging to their mother’s skirts. More and more of these places were springing up each year as people were discovering that Stillwater had as much to offer as Yellowstone. Some, like this one, were tastefully done and well managed, but there were a few eyesores that caused Cameron and his fellow council members an ongoing headache.
Cameron took his role as mayor seriously. Having been Stillwater’s youngest-ever council member at twenty-four and its youngest-ever mayor at twenty-six, he never forgot his duty to the community where he grew up. His four-year term of office was coming to an end, but, in the words of the local radio station, “There’s more chance of the Wyoming wind forgetting to blow than there is of Mayor Delaney not getting reelected.” That validation would allow him to continue the projects he had already started. Closing down cheap tourist traps was on his list.
Leaving his car in the little parking lot at the end of the road, Cameron walked a few yards to the first cabin and knocked on the door.
“It’s open. Come on in.”
She doesn’t sound like Carla. The thought steadied him, and he stepped straight into the open-plan living space. The place was furnished in traditional vacation-rental style. Polished pine paneling, exposed brickwork and functional furniture had been softened with colorful rugs, cushions and subdued lighting. As Cameron was taking in his surroundings, a door to his left opened and Laurie appeared.
On the drive over he had done his best to convince himself the likeness was not as strong as he remembered. It couldn’t be. Unless they were identical twins, two people couldn’t possibly look that alike. He’d done a pretty good job of persuading himself. Now she stood before him, a smile just beginning to light the blue depths of her eyes, and his internal lecture became so much meaningless white noise.
Laurie wore tight black jeans, heels and a gray silk blouse. Her hair, which had been wet and bedraggled when he last saw her, was styled now, the chestnut waves falling loose to just below her shoulders. She favored a less-groomed style than Carla, with only minimal makeup and jewelry. Even so, he was stunned all over again at the sight of her.
“I didn’t know where we were going. I hope this is okay?”
Aware some sort of response was required, he coaxed his facial muscles so he was able to return the smile. The effort was painful. “You look amazing. And we’re going to my favorite restaurant, Dino’s.”
And what will Dino—one of my oldest friends—say when I walk in with Carla’s double on my arm? Will he ask me if I’ve lost my mind? Tell me I can’t turn the clock back? Point out what I already know, that just because she looks like her, it would be unfair to expect Laurie to become some sort of Carla substitute?
“Is everything okay?” The smile in her eyes had faded and was on the verge of becoming a frown.
“Everything is fine.” The lie came easily. Despite his misgivings, he wanted to know more about this woman who had the face of his lost love. “Shall we go?”
It was a short drive from the cabin into town, and Cameron was reminded again of the little things he’d lost when Carla died. Companionable silence and the subtle perfume of a beautiful woman were two of them. They were approaching the main street when Laurie shifted slightly in her seat. He got the impression of her bracing herself before she spoke.
“Why did you ask me out tonight?”
Cameron drew into a parking space in front of Dino’s and switched the engine off before he answered. He supposed he should have anticipated the question. “You intrigue me and I’d like to get to know you better.” Honest, but only a fraction of a complicated answer.
“Because I look like Carla?”
He liked the directness of her approach. It meant he could be equally blunt in return. “I’d be lying if I told you that wasn’t a big part of it.”
Cameron turned to face her. For a moment something shimmered in the dark space between them. Something that had nothing to do with Carla. He wanted to reach out and grab it, hold on to it, welcome it as the first sign of life going on. In twelve long, empty months, he hadn’t once dared let himself believe he could ever feel anything for another woman. Hadn’t wanted to. It felt like the ultimate betrayal. Now, like a fragile candle flame in the darkness, there was an unexpected flicker. He wanted to cup his hands around it and shield it. He wasn’t sure what it meant. If it meant anything. Wasn’t sure he wanted it to mean anything. All he knew was emotions, even conflicting and confusing ones, were better than hollow, gut-wrenching emptiness.
Before he could do or say anything, Laurie smiled. “I’m starved. I hope this place does a good steak.”
* * *
When your job meant you were constantly playing a part, you had to be prepared for any eventuality. Walking into a busy, brightly lit restaurant and having the whole place fall instantly silent was a new experience. It was one Laurie hadn’t been prepared for. In hindsight, she should have anticipated it. Every eye followed their progress as the hostess escorted them to a table at the rear of the room. Cameron nodded and smiled at a few people, apparently at ease with the situation even though she suspected he wasn’t. He’s a politician; he’s used to the limelight. Even so, this is bizarre. Do they actually think I might be Carla? That she didn’t die on the lake that night after all? She faked her death and has staged a comeback? Or I’m her ghost following in Cameron’s wake and he hasn’t noticed me? That last thought made her choke back a nervous snort of laughter.
Curious stares continued to be directed their way, even once they’d taken their seats. There was no way she could not comment. “So that was fun.”
“I’m sorry. Is this too weird for you?”
Those dark eyes were achingly intense, and once again she experienced a pang of guilt. No matter who he was, or what he had done, this man was grieving. If her mission was successful and ended in his arrest and conviction, would Laurie feel proud of her part in his undoing? She didn’t want to explore that question any further. She had a feeling she wouldn’t like the answer. “Just doing my job” didn’t always cut it. Not in response to her own conscience.
“I was thinking more of you. This—” she outlined her own face with a circular motion of one finger “—must be painful for you.”
“Not really. I’ll admit it was a shock when I first saw you, especially when you emerged from the lake...” Laurie winced. Her plan had been to get his attention. She hadn’t thought about the impact on Cameron of her wading out of the very waters where Carla had died
