Where the Heart May Lead

by Elizabeth Mowers

  “I liked owning my own business and talking to new people every day. I’d have a difficult time working behind a desk all day, every day.”

  “What are you doing now?”

  Charlie groaned. “Good question, Freckles. I haven’t quite figured that out yet.”

  Paige rested her hand on his forearm. At her touch, his eyes moved to find hers.

  “You will,” she said, the reassurance in her voice surprising even herself. “I can tell by talking to you, you’re a man who will always figure it out.”

  “You can tell all that just from talking to me for a few minutes?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Do you consider yourself very perceptive about people?” She nodded. Little did he know her survival growing up had depended on it. He leaned forward as if sharing a secret. “Now I’m curious.”

  “About?”

  “Where you came from, Paige...?”

  “Cartman.”

  “Paige... Cartman...” He mulled her name over in his mouth as he rested his hand on hers again. Her skin prickled with goose bumps, and this time he smirked at noticing. He brushed his hand down the length of her forearm as if to smooth them away. Paige repressed a sigh as she imagined Charlie brushing his hand over the rest of her body. There was nothing like a man’s touch, she thought, tipping her head to better study the crinkle of lines around his eyes. She stared at this new person who suddenly felt so right. It was hard to remember a time when she hadn’t known him.

  Paige held up her glass, prompting Charlie to clink his against it.

  “Here’s to figuring it all out,” she whispered. “And making new friends.”

  “To making new friends with Paige Cartman,” he said before taking a sip. “Wherever it is she came from.”

  * * *

  PAIGE SLIPPED INTO the bathroom to catch her breath and swipe on more lip gloss. Washing her hands in cold water, only to help cool herself down, she smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair had become greasy at the crown from sweat earned from dancing, and she didn’t care. Why didn’t the world provide more opportunities for dancing and laughing? she thought as she let the cold water beat against the insides of her wrists. She had missed out on so much in the past and tonight, dancing with Charlie, felt like an awakening.

  As she dried her hands, her cell phone chimed, alerting her that a message awaited her. She discovered four text messages from Aunt Joan—all relating to Uncle Craig and all missed amid the loud music.

  “Honey, there you are,” Aunt Joan said in lieu of a standard hello.

  “What’s happened?” Paige said, sinking into an upholstered chair stationed by the bathroom door. She pressed her phone to her ear to hear Aunt Joan’s shaky voice through the chatter of women in the bathroom. “I thought he was holding steady.”

  “He was, but you know how these things go.”

  Paige knew all too well. A few hours could make all the difference in the world to a person suffering from a debilitating illness. Uncle Craig could awaken in the morning with enough energy to announce he was taking them out to breakfast, but by lunchtime he’d zonk out into bed and sleep until the next day. Days like that were difficult to watch, but the emergency room visits were harder.

  “Where are you?”

  “Where else?” Joan said with a sigh. “I rushed him in a couple of hours ago.”

  “I’m having a difficult time hearing—”

  “Where are you? I thought you were hitting the hay early tonight.”

  “Something came up.”

  “That’s how my evening played out too. I hope yours is more fun.”

  Paige could hear the pain in Aunt Joan’s voice. She had always been a strong, upbeat woman, but things had begun to shift six months ago. It had been a long, hard winter on all of them and Aunt Joan had emerged that spring much wearier, despite how hard she tried to hide it.

  “I’m grabbing dinner. How’s Uncle Craig?”

  “He was in a lot of pain and kept rating it at a level ten. He’s admitted for the night. The painkillers they gave him knocked him out, thank heavens. They told me to go home and get some sleep, but you know how I can’t. Not when he’s here and...and...”

  “You should. You won’t sleep on that crappy, plastic love seat. Uncle Craig needs you to take care of yourself. For him.”

  Paige strained to hear if her aunt had responded, uncertain if she missed a barely audible “Uh-huh,” but she couldn’t be sure. Finally, as she was about to repeat herself, her aunt sighed loudly into the phone.

  “You’re right, honey. I’ll do that in a bit. I’m just going to check in on him again.”

  “But you’re going home?” Paige pressed.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Joan.”

  “I’ll try, honey, but it’s raining here, so maybe camping out in his room wouldn’t be such a bad idea...in case it storms. I wouldn’t want to get home and not be able to get back to him...because of the storm.”

  Paige pinched the bridge of her nose. She had relied so heavily on her aunt and uncle after Aunt Joan had rescued her and Lucy. She and Craig had embraced her fully and unconditionally, loving her like the mother and father she’d never had but had always deserved. And in the years since, the pendulum had swung in the opposite direction as they had begun to lean heavily on her. Since the day they’d taken her in, she had never been away from them overnight and now, only one day into her mission to find Lucy, she sensed Joan was floundering. “Everything is going to be just fine. Go home, get some sleep, and I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you.”

  “Love you too, kid.”

  Paige made her way to the bathroom door but couldn’t bring herself to open it. What was she doing here laughing and dancing while her family was barely holding it together back home? She could feel her absence weighing heavily on them—could hear it in Aunt Joan’s voice. What she hadn’t said conveyed volumes compared to what she had.

  Paige shook her head and shoved her cell back into her purse. She couldn’t live for herself. She had responsibilities and couldn’t afford to waste time with a handsome young man. Not when she had to stay focused on her main objective: finding Lucy and making sure she was okay. Once she did that, she’d never see Charlie again. Who am I kidding? She’d be on the road home, and the bliss of tonight would be a long-lost dream she’d recall once in a while years from now. He’d be the one she would miss deeply. The one she’d let slip away, but at the end of the day, she had to do just that.

  “S’cuze me, sweetheart,” a robust woman said, swinging open the bathroom door. “Delivering five babies au natural gives a woman a one-track mind after two Long Island iced teas! Oh, my stars in heaven, ladies! Make way!”

  Paige smiled with amusement as the woman hurried past her to the first available stall, her friends hollering and cackling behind her. Emerging from the ladies’ bathroom, Paige spotted Charlie standing at the bar.

  “I didn’t know if you wanted something other than water. I thought we could take some drinks out on the deck. It’s a little quieter and the view is—”

  “I need to call it a night, Charlie.”

  “You do? Is something wrong?”

  Paige shook her head, but she knew her face was anything but convincing. Charlie moved closer, gently touching her arm.

  “I’m fine,” she said, waving away the bartender, who waited for a drink order. “I need to get back to...” She couldn’t muster the right word. She needed to get back home, to Uncle Craig, but not until she checked on Lucy. “My motel. What do I owe you?”

  “I already settled up with the bartender. I asked you out, remember? Buying your cheeseburger was the least I could do in exchange for a fantastic dance partner.”

  She knew he was trying for a smile, but the ethereal pleasure of the evening had dissolved as soon as she’d heard Aunt Joan�
�s voice. It had been a rude reality check, but a necessary one.

  “Thanks for dinner, Charlie.” She turned to leave, but he touched her shoulder, shifting to step in front of her.

  “Why do I have the feeling I said or did something wrong?”

  “You didn’t. I’m tired, but...”

  “But?” he prodded.

  “Charlie, I want you to know I had...” She shouldn’t lead him on when she wouldn’t see him again. How could she explain what she was doing in Roseley or why she could never entertain a long-distance relationship with anyone here? Without mentioning Lucy or her past or why things were safest left a secret...she couldn’t.

  “A fun time? I really hope that’s what you’re trying to say.” He moved closer, his eyes blinking with the vulnerability of a child as his lips eased into a sincere smile. Paige’s shoulders softened. She warmed under his stare, powerless to draw her eyes from his. “Couldn’t you stay for a few minutes more? I’d really love to show you that view.” He tousled a lock of her hair and when he did, his fingers delicately grazed the slope of her neck. The heat of his hand drew a current down her spine, electrifying each nerve along the way. Her lips parted, wanting to welcome his lips to hers for just one small taste of him before she left. His mouth would be warm and inviting and would mold perfectly against hers in the way she’d been imagining all evening. She could fall into his arms tonight with complete abandon if only...

  “You’re a good man, Charlie,” she said softly enough that he leaned closer to keep from missing it. She wouldn’t repeat it; the words were meant for her more than him. “Thank you for a fun evening, but I do need to go.”

  He reached for her hand. “I don’t have your phone number for the next time.”

  “There won’t be a next time.”

  Charlie shook his head as he grappled with her answer.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I can’t really explain, Charlie, and I do need to go.”

  “Freckles, you’re breaking my heart here,” he said, forcing a laugh, though his face had fallen. “Talk to me for a second. I thought you and I had something special. I felt it from the moment we met, and I have to believe you feel it too.”

  She wanted to cry and tell him she did. From his first playful smirk, she had felt drawn to him like the tide pulled by moonlight. His gravitational pull was so captivating, she knew she had to walk away now to keep herself from drowning in him completely. When she’d come to dinner tonight, she knew she could only keep his company for the evening. It was never meant to last longer, and she had to make sure of that—now.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I find that hard to believe. Tell me where you’re staying, at least, so I can call you in a couple days and talk you into meeting for coffee or—”

  “I don’t know how to make myself clearer, Charlie. It doesn’t matter how I feel about you. I can’t get into a relationship.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” His voice tinged with an edge, and she knew she’d hurt him. They’d both be hurting tonight, but there was no way around it.

  “Good night, Charlie.” And without daring to look back at his pleading brown eyes for fear they’d convince her to stay, she darted out of the restaurant.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  PAIGE PUMPED THE BRAKES of her Schwinn Signature Cruiser at the bottom of the path that led along the outskirts of the Michigan town. To her left, Roseley was just coming alive as cars and bicyclists cruised to work. To her right, Little Lake Roseley was calm and still.

  A pair of mallards, disturbed by her presence, cut a path through the grass, heavy laden with early summer dew. A half dozen newly hatched ducklings, nearly tripping over their own feet, hurried quietly behind.

  Roseley was serene. She could tell it had been carefully nurtured and preserved for the treasure it was. Landlocked on three sides, between Little Lake Roseley and the heavily wooded Roseley State Park, the town reminded her of wildflowers that had managed to squeeze through concrete slabs and thrive despite not having much room to grow. That was what she needed to be, she thought, as she popped a leg to the ground as a kickstand. She was proud of the life she’d managed to maintain for the last ten years, but now, she needed to keep trying until she could find Lucy.

  The cool morning air enlivened her senses, every breath bringing hope and strength she desperately needed in order to power through her meeting with Mara’s husband.

  She rolled her shoulders and envisioned her flawless presentation. She had polished her pitch over the years, appealing to her clients’ emotional triggers more than any logical ones. She was such an excellent copywriter, with the results to prove it. It was rare she didn’t land a job she sought.

  She could thank her aunt and uncle for setting her on the writing track. After the three darkest years of her life, when she hadn’t done much more than scribble out journal entries to keep her from unraveling, they had hired her a full-time tutor so she could not only finish school but excel. It was only one of the gifts they had given her, and she’d never taken it for granted, approaching her studies and later her work with a ferocity to succeed.

  But this job was different. So much hinged on it, and it made Paige nervous she’d lose her edge. Along with preparing for the job meeting, she’d spent the rest of the night inventing leading questions to figure out if Mara and her husband were Lucy’s adoptive parents. If they were, she’d have to think of another way to learn more about Lucy.

  It was hard to push thoughts of Charlie out of her mind. She’d finally collapsed on the bed in her clothes and drifted off into a fitful dream about her mom, Trudy. Paige scowled recalling it all.

  So lost in her thoughts, Paige nearly toppled over from the surprise of hearing a voice behind her. She jerked around to discover a gang of retiree-age women speed walking up the path. Dressed in sweat suits and colorful windbreakers that had fallen out of fashion years ago, their older frames made good time.

  “Left!” one woman cried, arms locked at ninety degrees and swinging madly on either side of her. Paige scrambled to walk her bike to the side of the path when the voice shrieked again. “Oh, Paige! I didn’t recognize you!”

  CeCe.

  Paige quickly donned a smile before turning.

  “Good morning, CeCe.”

  “Ladies, halt!” CeCe cried, bringing her roving gang of speed walkers to a standstill. “I want you all to meet the newest addition to Roseley.”

  “I’m not a resident,” Paige tried to explain as the posse milled closer to check her out.

  “No? You haven’t just moved here?” CeCe asked, though her questions sounded more like accusations.

  “I’m just passing through. Your town is charming, though.”

  One of the women, with curly violet-grey hair, stuck out a hand. “I’m Dolores Mitchell. I own the tea shop on Main.”

  “Nice to meet you—”

  “Are you the new woman Charlie is courting?” Dolores continued, her eyes widening with interest as she shook Paige’s hand.

  “What?” Paige’s cheeks flushed. Did people really use the word courting anymore? “We’re friends, Dolores. I only met him yesterday.”

  “She’s the gal I was telling you about, ladies,” CeCe continued, as if not hearing Paige.

  “She’s as much a looker as you described, CeCe.” The women continued to chat about Paige as though she wasn’t still standing there in front of them.

  “And he couldn’t take his eyes off of her...” CeCe continued before reaching out to pat Paige on the arm. Paige smiled awkwardly. Word certainly did travel fast in Roseley. For a person who prized her anonymity and privacy, she was quickly gaining a reputation among the townspeople.

  “You’d better move fast, honey,” Dolores said. “Charlie was quite the catch back in the day.”

  CeCe nodded knowingly. “Then he met th
at gal and...well, I’m glad he’s come to his senses about her.”

  Paige’s cell phone rang, jerking all six women to focus intently on her jacket pocket as if they were puppy dogs following a strip of bacon.

  “It might be my aunt. Please excuse me,” Paige said, grateful for the interruption.

  “Come by my tea shop,” Dolores said as she and the women picked up their pace again. “The first cup will be on the house!”

  “And The Sandwich Board!” CeCe called over her shoulder. “I work tomorrow ten to close!” Paige waved goodbye as she pressed the phone to her ear, expecting Aunt Joan.

  “Good morning!” the voice on the other line chirped. “Any chance you’re already up and about?”

  “I’m up,” Paige said, frowning at the unrecognizable number on her cell phone screen. “Mara?”

  “I’m calling from the shop. Listen, I know you were supposed to stop by later this afternoon, but is there any chance you could come now?” Her voice carried out over the quiet trail like a melodious wake-up call. “I know it’s super-duper early, but my husband, make that soon-to-be ex-husband—” She laughed, but Paige could hear a man grumbling in the background. She waited patiently as Mara emphatically whispered to someone. “Somebody has to get to the city early this morning and that’s after somebody woke up in a foul mood.” More whispering transpired and Mara corrected, “Make that came home late last night in a foul mood. You drive me crazy, Mr. Selby. Anyway,” she continued in an agitated voice. “Can you come now?”

  “Uh, of course.” She could tell she was about to get pulled into whatever marital strife was going on between Mr. and Mrs. Selby, and the possibility Lucy was living in that strife plucked a nauseous nerve. “I’m out riding at the moment, Mara, but if you can give me time to shower and grab my portfolio—”

  “No, no, no, Paige. Just swing by. We don’t care if you’re sweaty with helmet hair. You’ll fit right in around here.” She laughed again. “It won’t be a formal meeting, just a quick meet and greet. Can you do a...what do those writer folks call it? An elevator pitch? Minute or less?”