The Keepers: Christmas in Salem. Heather Graham

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The Keepers: Christmas in Salem - Heather Graham Mills & Boon Nocturne

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and marriage had been so easy for his sister. She’d known exactly who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with by the time she was twenty. He was thirty years old and he wasn’t any closer to finding Miss Right.

      The way his father talked, it all sounded so simple. Find a woman, fall in love, get married and live happily-ever-after. But love had never come easily to Will. Even after all these years, he could still remember the way his mother had looked at his father, as if he could do no wrong. The gentle teasing way his father had made his mother laugh. The secret whispers and stolen kisses when they’d both thought the children weren’t looking. That was love—and Will had never once experienced even a small measure of that kind of devotion.

      A knock sounded on the office door and Will glanced up to see his secretary, Mrs. Arnstein, walk inside. After he had dated and broken up with three separate secretaries, his father had decided to choose a secretary for him, a woman who would defy temptation. And Mrs. Arnstein was just that. A former Army drill sergeant, the woman was coldly efficient and painstakingly proper. She also outweighed Will by a good twenty or thirty pounds.

      “I have your mail,” she said. “The contracts came for the Bucktown condo project. And the estimates came in for the DePaul renovation.” She held up a glossy magazine. “And your Northwestern alumni magazine came. You’re listed in the class notes this month.”

      Will took the offered magazine. “How did they find out about me?”

      “They sent a questionnaire a few months ago. You told me to fill it out for you. You didn’t have time.”

      The alumni notes took up the last six or seven pages of the magazine. Will scanned the columns for his name, then realized they were listed by year of graduation. But as he flipped back to the previous page, a familiar name caught his eye.

      “Did you find it?” Mrs. Arnstein asked.

      “No.” He quickly closed the magazine. “I’ll look for it later. I have work to do.”

      The moment his secretary closed the door behind her, he snatched the magazine up and returned to the page. “Jane Singleton, B.S. Botany, 2000,” he read out loud. “Jane runs her own landscape business, Windy City Gardens, and has designed and installed a wide variety of residential and commercial gardens in the Chicago area.”

      He hadn’t thought about Janie Singleton for—God, how long had it been? Five, maybe six years? “Now she would have made a perfect wife,” he murmured. “She was sweet and attentive and—” He paused, memories flooding his brain. Will slowly pushed out of his chair and crossed his office to the bookshelves that lined one wall, scanning the volumes until his found his contracts text from law school. Holding his breath, he opened the front cover.

      It was right where he’d put it years ago. He’d come across it when he’d unpacked his books after law school and had almost tossed it out. But then he’d tucked it inside the cover where it had stayed until this moment, just a silly memory of a night long ago.

      Will unfolded the paper and slowly read it, surprised that he’d managed to write a pretty decent contract with such limited practical experience. The terms were clear and he’d covered all contingencies. Hell, if the contract was challenged in court, it might just hold up. An idea flashed in his brain and he pushed it aside. “No, I can’t.”

      He dropped the contract onto his desk and turned to his computer to get back to work. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he might have an easy solution to all his problems. Janie Singleton. She was exactly the kind of woman his father would love. And if his father saw that Will was dating an “appropriate” woman, then perhaps he’d soften his stance, maybe delay his decision until Will did find a wife.

      He picked up the phone and dialed his secretary’s extension. “Mrs. Arnstein, I need a phone number and address for Windy City Gardens. It’s a landscape contractor here in Chicago. And could you see if you can find a home phone number for a Jane Singleton? She probably lives in the city.”

      He sat on the edge of his desk, rereading the blurb in the magazine. A landscape contractor, that’s what she’d become. She’d always loved plants, so it seemed like a natural fit. And knowing her drive and determination, no doubt the business was a success.

      He could only speculate on her personal life. The newsletter listed her maiden name, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t stumbled across the man of her dreams in the past six years. After all, Jane was smart and pretty and she’d make any man a great wife.

      He picked up the paper and let his gaze skim over the words of the contract. Though it was written well, any judge with half a brain would toss it out in court. Still, it was a place to start, an excuse to call Jane and catch up on old times. If he was lucky, he could rekindle his relationship with her and just see where it went.

      The soft ring of his phone interrupted his thoughts. “Mr. McCaffrey, I have an address for Windy City Gardens. It’s 1489 North Damen in Wicker Park.” Will scribbled down the address and the phone number as his secretary read them. “I couldn’t find a home phone. There were seven J. Singletons but no Janes.”

      “Fine.”

      Will ripped the address from the legal pad, stuffed it into his pocket and grabbed his keys. As he walked out, he stopped at Mrs. Arnstein’s desk. “Cancel my appointments for this afternoon.”

      “You’re not going to Fiji again, are you?” she asked, arching her eyebrow.

      He smirked. “No. Just over to Wicker Park. If there’s an emergency, you can get me on my cell phone.”

      The midday traffic was light on the drive to the Wicker Park neighborhood, and fifteen minutes later, Will pulled up across the street from a small office building. A sign in a street-level window indicated he was at the right place. Even so, he couldn’t seem to get out of the car.

      “This is crazy,” he murmured. “She could be married or involved. I can’t just show up and expect her to be thrilled to see me.” He reached down to put the car into gear, then froze as he saw a figure step out the front door of the building. Will recognized her immediately, her dark hair and delicate frame, the profile that defined the word “cute.” She stood on the sidewalk and talked with a slender blonde who seemed vaguely familiar. A few moments later, they walked in different directions, Jane crossing the street and heading toward his car.

      Without thinking, he pushed the door open and stepped out. “Jane?” She stopped and glanced around, her gaze finally coming to rest on him. Will leaned over the top of the car door. “Jane Singleton?”

      “Will?” A smile broke across her face and he felt his heart warm. She was happy to see him. “My gosh, Will McCaffrey, you’re the last person I expected to run into today.”

      “I thought it was you,” he said, trying to feign total surprise. Will stared at her. It was the same Jane, but she was different. Features that had once been a bit plain had changed into something quite striking, not cute at all, but beautiful. She’d been a nineteen-year-old girl when he’d last seen her. Now, she was definitely a woman.

      “What are you doing here?” Jane asked.

      He slammed the car door and circled the hood to stand in front of her. “I…I was just heading…up the street, to a restaurant.” Will reached out and before he realized what he was doing, he’d grabbed her hand. He hadn’t meant to touch her, but now that he had, he realized how much he’d missed her.

      For

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