by Janet Eaves
He rubbed his aching head. The look in Jane’s eyes plagued him. He’d seen that look before. After graduation. When he kissed her after their first time together and she asked him to drive her home. It was a look he couldn’t handle again. He dropped his hand.
“You’re leaving,” she said in a flat voice. “I saw your suitcase by the door.”
“Yes.”
Some strange compulsion moved his hand to her cheek. It caused his fingers to stroke the line of her jaw. He lifted her chin. Propelled by a force outside his good reason, Graham lowered his lips to taste hers. Gently at first, he probed with his tongue, and was gratified when she responded by a sweetness that caused his heart to crumble.
“I’m sorry I was so stupid,” she said against his lips.
“We all do stupid things,” he replied before again savoring her with his tongue.
“Like changing places with a twin?”
“Like not believing in ourselves.” Graham cupped her face with both hands.
Jane trembled in response. Her lashes swept over her eyes. In the split second of quiet, he simply reacted. For once in his life, Graham didn’t plan anything. He had no answers. Only raw emotion and that told him not to leave this woman again.
“Jane Smith, I love you.”
“But I’m not like Dawn,” she said in a small voice. “I’m not sexy.”
“You’re more than just sexy. You’re the whole package, everything a man could want.”
It was true. Jane was all he wanted. Since returning home, he tried to convince himself otherwise. He told himself his career was important. In the blink of an eye, in the response to a kiss, his outlook changed. He no longer felt out of control. In fact, he felt in command of his life for the first time in many years.
“Will you marry me?
“What did you say?”
“I asked you to marry me.”
She looked up at him, her eyes full of disbelief. “You must be crazy.”
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”
“Hamlet, Act Three.” She grinned a little, as if unsure.
“So, what say you, Ms. English teacher?”
“I say the lawyer has yet to make his case.”
Graham stepped back and put his fists on his hips. “You’re the most stubborn woman I know. I’m trying to declare my intentions. What more do you want?”
Jane cocked her head. “I want to hear it again.”
“Jane, will you marry me? I’ve learned I can’t be happy without you. I need you.”
Her eyes glimmered with amusement and hope, but she stood her ground, refusing to move. She had a right to be skeptical.
“And,” he prompted, his throat constricting, “your answer is?”
“Yes!” she screamed. “I love you too!”
Graham barely had time to open his arms again before Jane bounded the few feet between them, slamming into him and knocking him backwards. He circled his arms around her as they toppled to the floor and Jane showered him with kisses.
Maybe the town could use another lawyer. Maybe he would finish his book here and write another.
For sure he had found his home again and it was here with Jane in Legend, Tennessee.
THE END
WHERE HER HEART IS
A Ladies of Legend Novella
By Magdalena Scott
For Abby Burton.
LizBeth Ann wouldn’t be the same without you!
WHERE HER HEART IS
Betsy McClain left Legend, Tennessee two years ago, with a broken heart, a baby to care for, and precious little else. She’s done well in the city, and so has daughter LizBeth Ann. A heartfelt request from Dorothy McClain is the only thing that could bring them back to Legend, even temporarily.
Mike McClain wants to get to know his only child, but Betsy isn’t cutting him any slack. Good looks and the old McClain charm seem to be failing him. Betsy is not the same love-struck girl he married, nor the girl who left Legend in a flurry of anger and tears. But he’s changed too. Can’t she see that?
Mike is renovating the house where Betsy and LizBeth Ann are staying. Everyone in Legend would like to see them get back together. The only thing standing in the way is Betsy’s stubbornness…or is it Mike’s?
Chapter One
Betsy had barely set her foot back onto Legend soil before being almost lifted off it again.
“Betsy! There you are! I’m so glad you can be here to watch the house while we’re gone!” Dorothy McClain, all five feet of her, swept Betsy into an enthusiastic hug. Immediately the building trepidation she’d felt in the last fifty or so miles melted away. Coming back to Legend, even temporarily, hadn’t been an easy decision. Not after the way she’d left.
Dorothy pulled back gently from the hug, and she moved her attention to the only other occupant of their world at that moment. Dorothy dropped to her knees, her eyes sparkling.
“And how are you, Miss LizBeth Ann? You are certainly looking all grown up.”
Dimples showed shyly, and LizBeth Ann’s big blue eyes grew even larger. Her chubby arm went around her mother’s jeans-clad leg.
Betsy sighed. She really had no one but herself to blame for the fact that LizBeth Ann was unfamiliar with one of the sweetest members of the McClain family. And there was lots more family in Legend…
“Honey, this is your Aunt Dorothy.” Betsy knelt, and LizBeth Ann immediately stepped into her mother’s arms, regarding Dorothy from a safe haven.
Dorothy’s enthusiastic smile never wavered. She rose to her feet, then took a step toward the front door she’d flung wide open. With a twinkle in her eye she looked over her shoulder at the two-and-a-half year-old.
“LizBeth Ann, why don’t you bring your mommy on into the house? Let’s see if we can find some cookies you-all like. I baked chocolate chip this morning. Does your mommy like that kind?”
A smile lit the little face and the dimples showed again. With her head cocked slightly to one side, she looked up at Dorothy. The quick intake of breath indicated Dorothy noticed it too. When LizBeth Ann cocked her head that way in concentration, she looked so much like Mike. The moment passed; LizBeth Ann looked up at Betsy, and took her hand, tugging a bit, taking a step closer to the house. “Yes. Mommy likes chocolate chip.”
Half an hour later, some of the awkwardness was gone. The miracle of cookies and milk!
“Betsy, there are a few things I need to show you before we flit off.” Dorothy quickly cleared the table and put the dishes into the dishwasher. “LizBeth Ann, you might have to help Mommy remember some of these things. Okay?”
Hopping off the chair in the large cheery kitchen and smoothing her red-and-white gingham sundress down over her knees, the child gazed seriously up into Dorothy’s eyes.
“Yes. I’ll help Mommy remember. And I can help her do work too. We’re a team. Girls gotta stick together.” She cocked her head again. “Aunt Dorothy, you’re a girl too, huh? You can stick together with us, okay?”
Betsy felt tears sting her eyes, but quickly got herself under control. Tears were pointless, even the happy kind. There had been plenty of the other kind before, when they were still in Legend. There was a lot riding on this homecoming, not the least of which was laying the past to rest.
“All right, then.” Dorothy blinked, too, and wiped her hands on a dish towel. “We girls shall stick together. Come on and I’ll give you the low-down.”
Betsy and her daughter followed the white-haired lady as she wafted out of the kitchen and up the back stairs to tour the second story bedrooms and baths. A while later they came down the large front staircase and looked at the remainder of the first floor—formal dining room, Charles’ home office, family room, formal living room, four-season back porch, Dorothy’s sewing and sitting rooms. Betsy was introduced to circuit breakers, and plumbing cut-off valves. As many times as she’d been a guest in this house, she’d never needed to know their location. As they walked down the hallway toward the last room on th
e main floor, Betsy anticipated a quick peek into her favorite room, the library. She had spent many happy hours here, and looked forward to her daughter’s reaction to the large room full of beautiful books. Double walnut pocket doors at the end of the hall were closed, and squeaked a little when Dorothy pulled them open. Betsy stepped forward, then stopped and stared.
“What happened here?” she gasped.
“That’s what I wanted to tell you. I decided to have it redone simply ages ago, and you know how hard it is to get skilled craftsmen—they’re nearly extinct!—so I waited and waited, and of course wouldn’t you know it, Greg could only fit us into his schedule this month!” Dorothy paused for a quick breath, her face slightly pink. “So there you have it.”
“So there I have what?” Betsy shook her head as she viewed the devastation.
“This is a big mess, Aunt Dorothy. Who made this big mess in your house?” LizBeth Ann wrinkled her nose. “Mommy, do we gotta clean this up?” She looked suspiciously at Dorothy, as if suddenly the girls weren’t going to be so tight after all.
“No, honey, you don’t have to clean it up.” Dorothy stepped gingerly across the room which was littered with scraps of wood, dirt, sawdust, and miscellaneous wads of paper. “There is a man named Greg Andrews. He—he has a business of redoing people’s houses.” She picked up an empty soda can and retraced her steps to join them at the double walnut doors. “When there’s a big project, sometimes it makes a mess. Cleaning it up—that happens after.”
“Oh.” LizBeth Ann tiptoed to a wooden sawhorse and studied it. “What’s this?”
“It’s called a sawhorse, honey,” Betsy said. “Carpenters use those—”
“Can I ride it?”
“It’s not that kind of a horse, sweetie. It’s to put wood on, when the carpenter is going to saw the wood.”
The quizzical look again. “Oh.”
Betsy looked at Dorothy. “So. Greg Andrews. I don’t know that name.”
“He moved here just a year or so ago,” Dorothy answered. “He does beautiful work, and got so busy he had to hire help.”
“That sounds good.” Betsy looked around, searching for hints of the beloved old library.
“Uh-huh. Deluxe Home Improvements is the company name. You’ll see his little signs in people’s yards after he’s done renovation for them. You know Legend. Word of mouth is enough, really. But Greg’s still got some city in him.”
“Hm. So he hires local people?” Legend always needed new employers. The small town was far enough from any cities to make commuting expensive.
Just then Charles McClain arrived, loudly. “Dorothy!” His booming voice resounded throughout the large house. McClain men were notoriously loud, Betsy remembered. Loud and handsome. And some other things, too… A flash of Mike’s face flitted across her memory before she could stop it. She quickly shook her head, willing it to be gone.
“Dorothy!” he called again, evidently standing just inside the door he had entered instead of looking for his wife. Men. Come and wait on me, honey. Come fix my dinner, honey. Put everything else aside because the man of the house has arrived. Honey.
Dorothy was already on her way toward the sound. Betsy braced herself for an awkward reunion and took LizBeth Ann’s hand, leading her that direction too.
“Charles, of all things. Don’t walk in here and start hollering like you don’t have a bit of manners.” Dorothy chastised him gently as they approached him in the entryway. “Sweetheart, we have visitors. Remember?” The couple hugged for long moments, and Charles leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his wife’s lips.
“Whoops. My bad.” His blue eyes twinkled as he uttered the youthful comment. He winked at Betsy. “Sorry, Betsy. Really glad to see you. Just feeling a little rushed here. Say! Who is this fair princess?”
LizBeth Ann had pulled her hand out of her mother’s grasp and was hiding behind her, plastered to Betsy’s denim backside. Betsy felt the little girl shake her head no, trying to avoid an introduction.
But Charles had closed the space between them and pulled Betsy into a big, warm embrace.
“Honey, it’s good to have you home. We’ve all missed you.” The little girl came around to her mother’s side, and he reached down and gently tousled LizBeth Ann’s hair. “And we’ve missed you too, Princess. Why, you were just a tiny thing last time I saw you. And now look.”
He moved a step away, bent his long legs and knelt in front of her. “You’re half grown up! I can see we’re leaving the place in capable hands.”
LizBeth Ann lifted her hands and looked at them.
“Exactly,” said Charles. “You have good, strong hands, Princess, and I know you’ll take special care of our house while we’re gone.”
She put her hands into the strawberry-shaped patch pockets of her dress. “My name’s LizBeth Ann.” She shifted her weight to one white sandal, leaning slightly against Betsy’s leg. “But if you want, you can call me Princess, I guess.”
Everyone laughed at that, even LizBeth Ann, who had managed to rid the air of any remaining tension and make everyone feel comfortable.
Then there was a flurry of activity as Charles explained that their son Joe, mechanic extraordinaire, had pronounced their car ready for the trip to Knoxville. They would spend the night in the city with their other son, David, and his wife Rebecca. In the morning, Rebecca would drive them to the airport to catch their flight. The three adults grabbed the luggage standing neatly beside the door and hauled it out to the sedan. Charles painstakingly loaded it just so as Dorothy rolled her eyes and looked at her watch.
They’re just the same. Even though I’ve been gone a while, even though my life took a wide detour, these dear people haven’t changed. And they still want me in their family. Thank goodness for that.
All the rest of the family, including daughters Maureen and Janelle, had said their goodbyes at last night’s going away dinner. So it was only Betsy and LizBeth Ann who stood in the driveway of the big white colonial and waved goodbye.
“Bye, Uncle Charles! Bye, Aunt Dorothy!” LizBeth Ann spoke softly as she waved, still smiling. Charles honked the horn repeatedly as they turned out of the drive and headed up the road, away from Legend.
And it was suddenly very quiet. Betsy silently cursed the horrendous traffic that had kept them from arriving earlier.
LizBeth Ann squeezed her hand. “They’re nice, huh, Mommy?”
“Yes, honey. They’re about the nicest people I know.”
“Me too. ‘Cept you, Mommy. You’re the very most nicest.”
Betsy looked down and smiled, brushing a stray curl from her daughter’s forehead. “Sorry. No more cookies ‘til after supper.”
“Awwwww!”
Chapter Two
Early the next morning Betsy was jolted awake by a terrible noise. It took a moment to realize where she was. Could someone have broken into the house? She quickly locked the bedroom door, dialed 9-1-1 and reported a possible prowler. Then she dressed in jeans and a tee shirt. Of all things! She’d been able to keep LizBeth Ann safe in the city, and their second day back in Legend the house was broken into. A cold sweat formed on her forehead, and she looked down at her daughter who was still sound asleep, knotted in her portion of the blanket and clutching her worn brown teddy bear. Innocence. It was heart-wrenching sometimes to see it, and to fear its loss. But—in Legend?
A few minutes later she heard a car approaching. When she looked out the window, a police cruiser pulled to a stop in the drive and a blue-uniformed officer emerged and disappeared under the front porch roof as he ascended the steps. There was also a beat-up maroon pickup truck in the driveway. Where had that come from? Then she heard men laughing downstairs, and she stomped down to investigate.
Inside the entryway were two handsome men. One was wearing a police uniform. The other, in ratty jeans and a brown pocket tee shirt, was none other than Mike McClain, LizBeth Ann’s father and Betsy’s almost ex-husband.
The two se
emed to be enjoying their little joke, and didn’t notice Betsy until she stepped to within a foot of them.
“Oh! Mornin’, ma’am…” The officer squinted at her. “Betsy? Huh! I didn’t know you were back in town,” he said with a quirky grin.
She spared him merely a glance. “I’m just visiting, Matt.” She tried to pin his companion with a glare. “Michael.”
“Betsy.” He didn’t make eye contact, but looked at the top of her head.
“What in the world are you doing here?” she asked him.
He rubbed his day-old beard and looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else.
“I’m working here. For Greg Andrews. You might also remember this is my hometown.” Then he frowned and locked eyes with her. “A better question is, what are you doing here?”
Officer Matt Branson held up one hand. “Uh. I’m guessing your intruder call is a wash, huh? Looks like I’m not needed here. That right?”
Betsy shot him another glance, then glared at Mike. “Well. I suppose. But thank you for coming.”
“It’s my job. ‘Bye then. ‘Bye, Mike.”
“Yeah. See you, Matt.”
The officer stole a last look behind him before closing the front door quietly as he left. Was he chuckling?
Great. Back home in Bubbaville. She took several deep breaths to calm her anger before setting the unexpected carpenter straight on just who was in charge here. But before she could form a word, he spoke.
“I guess you’re not an early riser, but that’s not a problem for me since I have a key. Hope you don’t mind the noise of this crowbar pulling nails.” He grinned, and not pleasantly. “It puts some folks’ teeth on edge.” Mike walked to the library, and the screeching started again. He hadn’t seemed to notice—or care about—Betsy’s stunned silence.
She stalked to the library, picked her way over some refuse and stood in front of him, hands on her hips.
“You’re not going to ignore me, Michael McClain.”
He sighed, sat back on his heels and looked up at her. “I’m guessing you won’t let me do that.”
“Exactly. Why didn’t Dorothy tell me you were the carpenter?”
