to pursue any of them beyond a casual date or two.
But he was plenty bothered now. Thinking about Thalia Myers Mitchell brought back memories eleven long years old—memories of “doing the right thing,” or more precisely, not doing the wrong thing.
Yes, she’d been a mere sixteen to his almost twenty-one. On the other hand, she’d picked him to relieve her of her virginity, a rational decision made with her usual thoroughness. He should have been flattered—hell, he had been flattered. And attracted. And confused. And at the last minute, responsible.
He knew he’d hurt her feelings when he turned her down, as he finally had to do out of deference to her youth and inexperience—and a little bit of deference to her brother, John. John and Luke had been best buds all through school and Luke didn’t want their friendship to come to blows. Hell, he wasn’t sure he could lick the guy.
So he’d done what he knew was the right thing, although it hadn’t been easy. Nor did it get easier with time. He and Thalia were never comfortable around each other again; the encounter had left them with unfinished business, as far as he was concerned. She probably felt the same, he mused, doodling all over the manila folder. Now that age was no longer an issue between them, why shouldn’t he think about making up for lost time?
The door flew open and Cindy entered, a concerned frown on her face. “Are you okay?” she asked bluntly. “I’ve been knocking on that door for five minutes—okay, two minutes, but it seemed longer. I was beginning to think you’d sneaked out the back way with Doc.”
“I might as well. I can’t seem to concentrate on this stuff.” He pushed the files away and glanced at his wristwatch. “Maybe if I had something to eat—”
“You mean you haven’t had lunch yet?” Cindy, a motherly type with several grown kids, tsked-tsked. “Honestly, Luke, you and Doc are cut from the same cloth. Why don’t I go next door to the Paper Sack and grab you a sandwich, okay? I was coming to tell you that Mrs. Bushmiller just canceled Trixi’s appointment, so unless something else comes up, you should be able to get out of here by five today.”
“Okay, but—”
“No buts. It’s almost three o’clock and Jimmy Morton’s dog needs shots at three-fifteen, remember? I’ll be back in a flash with a ham and cheese on rye. Don’t argue!”
He didn’t.
AT A LITTLE AFTER FIVE that day, Thalia Mitchell paused in front of the large glass windows of the Sew Bee It Craft and Fabric Shoppe, next door to the Paper Sack on the main drag of Shepherd’s Pass, Colorado. Just inside, where he’d have a view of passersby, a big striped cat basked in the sun on a carpeted shelf attached to the window ledge. Behind him was a sewing machine always set up and at the ready. Pins and fabric scraps covered a cutting table littered with mats and rotary cutters, and brightly flowered fabrics draped a dressmaker’s dummy.
Some things never changed, she thought. Tapping her fingertips lightly against the glass, she managed to attract the cat’s attention. He looked up with an annoyed scowl, then closed insolent amber eyes.
Thalia couldn’t help smiling. It was wonderful to be home in the Colorado mountains on this gorgeous September day—and a little strange, too. She’d been gone such a long time, since high school, actually. Once she’d departed for college she’d never really come back for more than a few weeks at a time.
She’d spent the past several years in Southern California, which was a far cry from Colorado any way you sliced it. With a sigh, she pushed open the heavy glass door and entered the cozy shop, a tinkling bell announcing her arrival.
Several browsing customers glanced at her with brief curiosity. The young woman rearranging items on the back wall looked around with a smile and promptly dropped several bolts of fabric.
“Thalia!”
“Emily!”
The two met in the middle of the store, between the buttons and the cash register. They hugged, they squealed, they hugged again. Finally Thalia drew back.
“What a welcome!”
“I’ve missed you,” Emily said. “I’m so glad you’re here. I saw your mom a day or two ago and she told me—”
“Emily, dear.” One of the shopping ladies had made her choice. “Can you ring these notions up for me?”
“Sure, Mrs. Adams.” Emily walked behind the counter and began tapping at the cash register keys. “You remember Thalia Myers, don’t you?”
“Mitchell now.” Thalia smiled at the woman. “Nice to see you, Mrs. Adams.”
“Nice to see you, dear. I’ll tell Angeline you’re back.”
Emily made change and thanked the woman with a smile before turning eagerly to Thalia. “You’ve got to tell me everything! It’s been years since we had a good—”
“Bye-bye, Emily.” Another woman waved from the front of the store. “I don’t see what I’m after so I’ll drop by again next week.”
“Fine, Mrs. Weller. See you then. Remember, I can special-order anything you want.” Emily came out from behind the counter, grabbed Thalia’s hand and drew her over to the small sitting area near the coffee service. “Gosh, Thalia, you look wonderful.”
Thalia didn’t feel wonderful. Next to Emily with her long black hair and sparkling blue eyes, her lace-frosted denim dress with all its hand-crafted details, Thalia felt brittle and…and foreign.
But she just said, “Thank you. So do you. And in answer to your question, I’m fine.” Bored with life, but fine.
Emily’s smooth face creased in a frown. “I hate to ask but…the divorce…?”
“Wasn’t as bad as it might have been.” Thalia accepted the foam cup of coffee Emily offered. “Don and I parted amicably. Even so…”
“Yes, even so.” Emily sat down on the wicker footstool. “Poor Thalia.”
Thalia frowned. “Why poor me?”
“I know you, Thalia. I’m sure you take the divorce as a personal failure.”
“It is a personal failure.”
Emily pursed her lips. “Of course, it isn’t. The marriage was obviously a mistake. Everybody makes mistakes, but that doesn’t mean they’ve failed.”
Thalia had to smile at that one. “Em, you’ve always had the most convoluted reasoning. You should have been a lawyer.”
“God forbid!” Emily looked honestly appalled. “I can’t abide lawyers. The thing is, I know you, Thalia Myers Mitchell. You do take everything too seriously.”
“Few things are more serious than a marriage.”
“Oh, piffle!” Emily wrinkled her nose. “Don’t forget, I knew you when.”
“That’s for sure.” Thalia had to grin. “But I was just a kid then.”
“Are you saying you’ve changed?”
