Dovie a moment to remember. “Why, that’s Nicole Nelson.”
“Nicole Nelson,” Frank repeated slowly, as though testing the name. “She’s from Promise?”
“She lived here a few years back,” Dovie said, taking a plastic bag and choosing the freshest-looking bunch of celery.
“How do I know her?” Frank asked, speaking into her ear.
Which told Dovie that Nicole had never crossed the law. Frank had perfect recall of everyone he’d encountered in his work as sheriff.
“She was a teller at the bank.”
“When?”
“Oh, my.” Dovie had to think about that one. “A number of years ago now…nine, maybe ten. She was roommates with Jennifer Healy.”
“Healy. Healy. Why is that name familiar?”
Dovie whirled around, sighing loudly. “Frank, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten Jennifer Healy!”
He stared back at her, his expression blank.
“She’s the one who dumped Cal two days before their wedding. It nearly destroyed the poor boy. I still remember how upset Mary was having to call everyone and tell them the wedding had been canceled.” She shook her head. “Nicole was supposed to be her maid of honor.”
Frank’s gaze followed the other woman as she pushed her cart toward the vegetables. “When Jennifer left town, did Nicole go with her?”
Dovie didn’t know, but it seemed to her the two girls had moved around the same time.
“Cal was pretty broken up when Jennifer dumped him,” Frank said. “Good thing she left Promise. Wonder why this one came back…”
“Mary was worried sick about Cal,” Dovie murmured, missing her dearest friend more than ever. Cal’s mother had died almost three years ago, and not a day passed that Dovie didn’t think of her in one way or another.
“I know it was painful at the time, but Jennifer’s leaving was probably a lucky break.”
Dovie agreed with him. “I’m sure Jane thinks so, too.”
Frank generally didn’t pay much attention to other women. His noticing Nicole was unusual enough, but it was the intensity of his focus that perturbed her.
She studied Nicole. Dovie had to admit that the years had been good to Jennifer’s friend. Nicole had been lovely before, but immature. Time had seasoned her beauty and given her an air of casual sophistication. Even the way she dressed had changed. Her hair, too.
“She’s a real looker,” Frank commented.
Dovie saw that her husband wasn’t the only man with his eye on this woman; half the men in the store noticed her—and Nicole was well aware of it.
“I’ll admit she looks attractive,” Dovie said with a certain reluctance.
Frank turned back to her. She didn’t realize right away that he was frowning. “What is it?” she asked.
“What she looks like to me,” he said, ushering her down the aisle, “is trouble.“
Cal had lived in this ranch house his entire life, and the place had never seemed as big or as empty as it did now. Jane hadn’t been gone a week and already the silence was driving him to wander aimlessly from room to room. Exhausted from a day that had started before dawn, he’d come home and once again experienced a sharp pang of loneliness.
Normally when Cal got back to the house, Paul rushed outside to greet him. The little boy always launched himself off the porch steps into his father’s waiting arms as if he’d waited for this moment the entire day. Later, after Cal had showered and Jane dealt with getting dinner on the table, he spent time with his daughter. As young as Mary Ann was, she already had a dynamic personality and persuasive powers to match. Cal knew she was going to be a beauty when she grew up—and he’d be warding off boys. Mary Ann was like her mother in her loveliness, energy…and her stubborn nature.
Cal’s life had changed forever the day he married Jane. Marriage was more than the smartest move of his life; it was the most comfortable. Being temporarily on his own made him appreciate what he had. He’d gotten used to a great many things, most of which he hadn’t stopped to consider for a long time: shared passion, the gentle companionship of the woman he loved, a family that gave him a sense of purpose and belonging. In addition, Jane ran their household with efficiency and competence, and he’d grown used to the work she did for her family—meals, laundry, cleaning. He sighed. To say he missed Jane and the kids was an understatement.
He showered, changed clothes and dragged himself into the kitchen. His lunch had been skimpy and his stomach felt hollow, but he wasn’t in the mood to cook. Had there been time before she left, Jane would have filled the freezer with precooked dinners he could pop into the microwave. When they heard he was a temporary bachelor, Frank and Dovie had dropped off a meal, but that was long gone. The cupboards were full, the refrigerator, too, but nothing seemed easy or appealing. Because he didn’t want to bother with anything more complicated, he reached for a bag of microwave popcorn. That would take the edge off his hunger, he decided. Maybe later he’d feel like putting together a proper meal.
The scent of popped corn enticed him, but just as he was about to start eating it, the phone rang. Cal grabbed the receiver instantly, thinking it might be Jane.
“Pattersons’,” he said eagerly.
“Cal, it’s Annie.”
Annie. Cal couldn’t squelch the letdown feeling that settled over him. Annie Porter was his wife’s best friend and a woman he liked very much. She’d moved to Promise a few years back and had quickly become part of the community. The town had needed a bookstore and Annie had needed Promise. It wasn’t long before she’d married the local vet. Cal vaguely recalled Jane asking him to phone Annie. He’d forgotten.
“I just heard about Jane’s dad. What happened? Dovie was in and mentioned that Jane went to stay with her parents—she assumed I knew. I wish someone had told me.”
“That’s my fault,” Cal said. “I’m sorry, Annie. On the way to the airport, Jane asked me to call…” He let his words drift off.
“What happened?” Annie asked again, clearly upset. Cal knew she was close to Jane’s parents and considered them a second family.
Cal told her everything he could and apologized a second time for not contacting her earlier. He hoped Annie would see that the slight hadn’t been intentional; the fact was, he hated to make phone calls. Always had.
“I can’t imagine why Jane hasn’t called me herself,” she said in a worried voice.
Cal had assumed she would, too, which only went to show how hectic Jane’s days must be with her parents and the children.
“Jane will be home in a week,” Cal said, trying to sound hopeful and reassuring—although
