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At Any Price
Margaret Allison


SHE'D KISSED HIM ONCE… And then he'd left town - and her.But Katie Devonworth had never stopped dreaming of making love to Jack Reilly. Not even years later when the rebel teen had changed into a Manhattan millionaire - the "Iceman" who juggled as many dates as deals but gave his heart to none. Jack was now Katie's last hope to save her newspaper and the town that once shunned him. Even in a blizzard that stranded him in Newport Falls, Jack's ice-blue eyes began to melt.Suddenly Katie's dreams were within reach - naked beside a blazing fire. All she had to do was take his money and the torrid night she'd craved forever. But was it worth the sacrifice; was giving Jack her body - and soul - worth any price?












Memories Of That Night In Her Room Had Haunted His Dreams For Years


He could see Katie in her nightgown, feel the guilt for not being able to look away. But he still couldn’t. After all this time, he would’ve given his right arm to make love to her right there on her bed.

Now, after all these years, he was going to be sleeping in her house again. The thought of spending the night with her was enough to make him sweat. It had been a while since he’d been with a woman, and he was hungry. Had he been back in New York, there would have been a number of women he could have called, any of whom would have been more than happy to share his bed. But he knew he was kidding himself. Even if he was back in the city, he wouldn’t call those women. There was only one woman he wanted to make love to tonight.

And her name was Katie Devonworth.


Dear Reader,

We’re so glad you’ve chosen Silhouette Desire because we have a lot of wonderful—and sexy!—stories for you. The month starts to heat up with The Boss Man’s Fortune by Kathryn Jensen. This fabulous boss/secretary novel is part of our ongoing continuity, DYNASTIES: THE DANFORTHS, and also reintroduces characters from another well-known family: The Fortunes. Things continue to simmer with Peggy Moreland’s The Last Good Man in Texas, a fabulous continuation of her series THE TANNERS OF TEXAS.

More steamy stuff is heading your way with Shut Up And Kiss Me by Sara Orwig, as she starts off a new series, STALLION PASS: TEXAS KNIGHTS. (Watch for the series to continue next month in Silhouette Intimate Moments.) The always-compelling Laura Wright is back with a hot-blooded Native American hero in Redwolf’s Woman. Storm of Seduction by Cindy Gerard will surely fire up your hormones with an alpha male hero out of your wildest fantasies. And Margaret Allison makes her Silhouette Desire debut with At Any Price, a book about sweet revenge that is almost too hot to handle!

And, as summer approaches, we’ll have more scorching love stories for you—guaranteed to satisfy your every Silhouette Desire!

Happy reading,






Melissa Jeglinski

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire




At Any Price

Margaret Allison










MARGARET ALLISON


was raised in the suburbs of Detroit, Michigan, and received a B.A. in political science from the University of Michigan. A former marketing executive, she has also worked as a model and actress. She is the author of several novels, and At Any Price marks her return to the world of romance after taking some time off to care for her young children. Margaret currently divides her time between her computer, the washing machine and the grocery store. She loves to hear from readers. Please write to her c/o Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.


For my mom, Barbara Robinson, with thanks and love.




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve




One


Katie sat in the sleek waiting room of Jack Reilly’s office. He owned the whole building, a glass high-rise smack in the middle of Manhattan.

She knew Jack was a big deal now; heck, everyone in Newport Falls knew he was a self-made multimillionaire. But seeing it was a different story.

It had taken every ounce of her courage to set foot inside Reilly Investments. She kept reminding herself that this was Jack, her childhood friend, not Donald Trump. She shouldn’t be intimidated. After all, she had nursed Jack through colds, chicken pox and fights with his father.

But still, the lump that was lodged in her throat would not go away. And the little voice inside her that kept telling her to run, the one that kept telling her what a mistake it was to come here, would not shut up.

She wondered if she would recognize the man described in the papers as the confident, brash millionaire. Sure, Jack had always been a little cocky, but she knew better. She could see right through the artificial confidence to the insecure boy underneath. He had been painfully aware of where he had come from and who he was. His cockiness was just covering up the insecurity of being the poorest kid in school.

She smoothed her hair, certain she looked a mess. It was only noon, yet her day had begun eight hours earlier. She had taken care of some business at the paper before borrowing Marcella’s car for the drive into the city. She felt bad about putting the extra miles on her friend’s already worn car, but she had little choice. Not without the funds to repair her broken-down car or afford the train or plane fare. Since her divorce, money was tight. And the newspaper, her family’s business for generations, had been hemorrhaging money. She had stopped paying herself a salary months ago.



Katie checked her watch again. Nearly one-thirty. Their lunch appointment had been for twelve forty-five.

Perhaps there had been a mix-up, perhaps Jack didn’t even know he was meeting with her today. After all, she had not spoken with him directly. All their communication had been through his assistant. Katie hadn’t told Jack’s assistant that she wanted to ask the big-time investor for a loan for her failing newspaper. She hadn’t told her that Jack Reilly was more than an old friend. Much more.

In fact, she had loved Jack from the moment she first set eyes on him. She had been convinced they were meant for each other, sure that the friendship they had nurtured since kindergarten was destined for passion. But she was wrong. And to this day, she had only admitted her love for Jack to one other person: Jack himself.

She blushed as she remembered that day, fourteen years before. In senior year of high school she and Jack had been part of a group of three friends. Jack Reilly, Matt O’Malley and Katie Devonworth. Inseparable in school and out, they were known throughout Newport Falls as earth, wind and fire. Katie, the daughter of the owner and publisher of the town’s newspaper, was the earth: solid, steady, with a firm sense of purpose. Matt, the son of a teacher, was the wind: constantly changing his mind about who he was and what he wanted to be. Jack, the son of an unemployed alcoholic, was fire: full of angst and determination.

But one day she and Jack had found themselves alone, without Matt. They had arrived at the creek before dawn, had sat side by side, talking in their usual manner, about everything and nothing at all.

She remembered it had been an unusually warm and beautiful late-April day. Snow could still be seen on the mountains that framed Newport Falls. But in the valley, where they had been fishing, the sky was clear and the sun was bright. She had mentioned that she was getting warm and Jack had looked at her, his blue eyes sparking mischief.

He set down his pole and jumped up, pulling off his shirt. He looked at the creek, then back to her again. “You’re right. A swim might be nice.”

“Not that warm,” she said. “The creek is still freezing.”

“Come on. A little swim will do you good.” He took a step toward her, his face lit in a devilish grin. Back then, Jack had the kind of looks sexy movie star heroes were made of: chiseled features, piercing blue eyes and jet-black hair. As she looked at him, she could feel her resolve melt. She had always had a hard time saying no to him. But, she reminded herself, this was not going to be one of those times.

“No thanks,” she said. She was willing to suffer to be alone with Jack, but she was fairly certain a dip in freezing cold water would add little to their romance.

“The secret,” he said, taking another step toward her, “is to jump in fast. Real fast.”

She had no doubt that Jack had every intention of dropping her right into the water. Jack cared little for polite gestures. Still, he had every girl in town clamoring to be near him, for although he was a little rough and wild, he was also the most intelligent and charming boy around.

“Jack Reilly!” she said, holding her fishing pole in front of her like a sword. “Don’t even think about it! I’ll…I’ll poke you, I will!”

He plucked the pole out of her hand and tossed it on the ground. “With what?”

She turned and ran away from the stream as fast as she could, hurdling a pile of rocks and hitting the path without losing stride. She was gaining her lead when her foot hit a stump, sending her flying over the path and into a patch of wild strawberries. Jack bounded after her, landing on his feet. He looked at her berry-splattered T-shirt. “You’re hurt,” he said, mistaking the red juice for blood. His tan, handsome face turned a pale white.

But as he leaned in to find the source of the “blood,” she couldn’t withhold her laughter any longer. She pushed him as hard as she could, sending him back on his rear. With a splat he landed smack in the berries. Then she took off running again.

But she wasn’t fast enough. He grabbed her from behind. His berry-stained arms wrapped around her like two bands of steel and picked her up, but instead of carrying her off into the sunset, he began walking back toward the stream. “Let’s get you cleaned up, Devonworth,” he said.

“I swear, Jack,” she said, trying to loosen his grip on her. “If you so much as get my little toe damp, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?”

They were eye-to-eye. The world once again faded away. It was just she and Jack, together. “I’ll, well, I’ll…”

“Idle threats,” he said, his mouth so close she could feel his breath. He paused, then leaned forward as if he was about to kiss her. She closed her eyes, waiting. Maybe not so much as waiting, but willing. Kiss me, she thought. Kiss me, Jack Reilly.

But her fantasy was dashed with the rush of icy water. “Jack!” she yelled as her rear end hit the creek. When he yanked her back up, she pulled him toward her and stuck out her knee, tripping him and sending him into the cold stream.

“There’s no escape,” he said, pulling himself out of the water. As Katie reached the beach, Jack tackled her. He straddled her on the sand, holding her arms above her head. “Give it up, Devonworth.”

Suddenly, Jack paused. He leaned over her, his eyes full of fire as he gazed at her as if for the first time. He stared at the wet T-shirt that clung to her like a second skin, revealing the shape of her breasts. “Katie,” he said hoarsely.

She did what she’d been wanting to do for years: she kissed him. He responded hungrily, his tongue exploring her mouth as his hands slipped under her shirt. She could feel his raw energy press against her as his fingers gently touched her erect nipples. Although she was a virgin, she was not frightened. She wanted Jack. She needed to feel him inside her, making love to her. She was ready. Her hands clutched the top of his jeans as she fumbled for the snap.

Then, as fast as their passion flared, it banked. Jack pulled away and sat up. “What are we doing?” he asked, running his hand through his thick hair.

She was silent for a minute. Then she said, “I love you, Jack. I always have.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he stood up and shoved his hands in the pockets of his wet jeans. Without saying a word, he walked away.

Katie heard a noise and turned. Matt was standing behind her, his arms crossed. She looked away, ashamed that he had witnessed such a personal humiliation.

“It’s okay,” Matt said. “I know you love him. I’ve known for a long time. Everyone has. Everyone except Jack.”

Katie could still remember the terrible feeling that engulfed her. Everyone in Newport Falls knew. Knew that she suffered a case of unrequited love.

Matt held out his hand. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll walk you home.” She accepted his hand and he pulled her to her feet. He said, “You should know that he doesn’t love you. I mean, he cares about you, but not like that. He never will.”

And Matt was right. Because as soon as Jack was able, he left Newport Falls.

Katie went on to college locally, and when her father died, she took over his struggling newspaper. Then she did the only sensible thing left to do: she married Matt.

“Ms. Devonworth?”

Katie snapped back to reality to see a beautiful blond woman standing in front of her. “Mr. Reilly will see you now,” the woman said.

Katie felt a surge of jealousy as she wondered if the blonde was dating Jack. But so what if she was? Jack was nothing to her anymore. Nothing.

Still, her heart was pounding so loudly she was certain the woman could hear.

She walked through the open doors and into a set from Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. Jack’s personal office was every bit as impressive as the building. Huge, with floor-to-ceiling windows, it had a sitting area with a couch and chairs, and a meeting area with a large conference table. The centerpiece of the office, however, was the elaborate, hand-carved desk that sat like a throne in front of a spectacular view of Central Park.

Jack sat at his desk, his back to her. He was facing the window, one hand behind his head as he spoke on the phone.

Being within arm’s reach of him after all this time was enough to take her breath away. But apparently she had little, if any, effect on him. He appeared unaware that she was standing there, and continued talking on the phone as if she was invisible.

She stood for a few minutes, twitching her fingers nervously. Why had the secretary told her to come in if he wasn’t ready? And how dare he treat her as if she was some sort of nobody! She was Katie Devonworth. She had beaten him in almost every game of chess they had ever played. She knew that he was the one who had broken Mrs. Watkins’s window. She knew that he had cried when his father had been sent to jail. She knew—

Jack spun around to face her. He smiled as he hung up the phone. He had changed little in the past nine years. His eyes may have had a few more wrinkles and his hair a few streaks of gray, but the effect was every bit as devastating as it had always been. He was still the most handsome man Katie had ever laid eyes on.

“Katie,” he said, walking around the desk to greet her. He held out his hand. “It’s nice to see you.”

She felt a charge as he touched her. The physical connection, no matter how innocent, was enough to make her heart skip a beat. “And you,” she managed to say, pulling her hand away.

“I was surprised to hear from you.” His tone was chatty, as if seeing her again was the most natural thing in the world.

“Yes, well,” she said, trying to match his attitude, “I was going to be in New York, anyway, so I thought, why not call Jack and see if he can meet for lunch?”

“I’m glad you did.” He paused for a moment, studying her. “It’s been a long time.”

She shifted her gaze. What was it about him that made her act like a nervous schoolgirl?

He nodded toward the door as he grabbed his coat. “Let’s go.”

They walked through the lobby, pausing to retrieve her coat before heading toward the elevators. “It’s all so impressive,” she said, stumbling to make conversation as he helped her on with her coat.

“Thanks,” he said. He pressed the button for the elevators, and they waited in silence while Katie racked her brain for something to say. Everything she came up with she rejected out of hand. Too obvious. Too stupid. Too boring.

When the elevator arrived, it was empty. They stepped inside, both of them keeping their eyes focused on the doors as they shut.

This was a mistake, said the voice in her head. I can’t even make small talk with him anymore. How can I ask him for a million dollars?

“So,” he said finally, “what business brings you to town?”

“Meetings with advertisers,” she said, the lie just popping out of her mouth. The doors opened and several people came inside. All nodded and said hello to Jack.

“How is the paper doing?” he asked.

“Okay,” she said, staring straight ahead. It wasn’t exactly a lie. The reporting had never been stronger. It was the circulation that was suffering.

The elevator stopped at another floor and several more people crowded in, pushing her and Jack to the back. They were so close, their arms touching, she could smell his musky scent. She closed her eyes. For a moment she was back at the creek and Jack was on top of her, his hand caressing her breast. She could feel his tongue inside her mouth….

“Here we are,” Jack said as the door opened. He put his hand on her back as he steered her out of the elevator. “I’m not sure what you had planned, but I’m afraid I don’t have much time. There’s a little Italian restaurant down the street, if that’s all right with you.”

Katie agreed. She was glad she didn’t have the responsibility of picking a restaurant in a city she knew little about. They walked down the street without talking. Jack led her to a small gray building with red shutters. “This is it,” he said.

They walked in and were greeted effusively by the manager, who seemed to know Jack very well. He showed them to a cozy booth in the corner. As they perused the menu, Jack said, “The chicken piccata is very good.”

But Katie preferred more basic food. “How’s the spaghetti and meatballs?”

“Some of the best in the city,” he said. “That’s what I’m getting.”

“Me, too,” she said, setting down her menu. As the waiter approached, Katie wondered if conversation with her old friend was doomed to be shallow and superficial. Perhaps they no longer had anything in common but their choice of entrée.

“So,” Jack said, after they had ordered, “how is everything in Newport Falls?”

“Fine,” she said.

“I was so sorry to hear about your mom, Katie. She was a great person.”

She wasn’t expecting him to mention her mother, who had died nearly ten years ago. She had adored both Jack and Matt, and had long predicted Katie would marry one of them. When she found out she had a fatal illness, she encouraged Katie to marry quickly, so that she could attend her wedding. It was one of the main reasons Katie had agreed to marry Matt.

Fortunately, her mother had not been there to witness the demise of the marriage she had inspired. But Katie and her mother had been extremely close, and her death had left a hole in Katie’s heart that would never heal. “Thank you for the flowers you sent.”

“Of course,” he said. He glanced away. At first she had been devastated when Jack didn’t call after her mother died. But slowly the pain had given way to curiosity. Matt had a theory for Jack’s disappearance from their lives. Jack had recreated himself. He didn’t want anyone around who remembered him for who he was and how he had grown up.

The waitress arrived with their lunch and placed it in front of them. Plates laden with spaghetti and meatballs and the most delicious-looking garlic bread Katie had ever seen.

She picked up her fork, wondering how she was going to eat without splashing marinara sauce all over herself.

But it hadn’t seemed to bother Jack. He was swirling his spaghetti on his fork and chomping away.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Do you want something else?”

“No,” she said. She stabbed her fork into the mountain of spaghetti and popped it in her mouth. One of the noodles fell out and, with a rather loud noise, she slurped it back in.

Jack was grinning. “No one eats like you, Devonworth.”

She doubted the women Jack dated ate much of anything. Those pictured with him in the newspapers and magazines all looked willow thin and perfectly coiffed. Well, thought Katie. I’m a real woman and proud of it. She broke her garlic bread in half and took a big bite.

“Do you like it?” Jack asked, pointing toward her plate.

She nodded.

“There’s a lot of great restaurants in the city, but there’s something about this place. It kind of reminds me of Macaroni’s back home.”

“It’s good,” she said, her mouth only half-full.

Jack grinned again.

She finished chewing and said, “But Macaroni’s isn’t there anymore. They went out of business a couple of years ago.” Macaroni’s wasn’t the only business to fall victim to Newport Falls’ economy. Jack wouldn’t recognize the once-vibrant Main Street. Many of the stores that had been there since Katie could remember were gone or leaving.

“Oh?” Jack said. “That’s hard to believe. They’d been there forever, hadn’t they?”

“It sure seemed that way,” Katie said.

Neither said anything for a while, focusing on their lunch. But Katie couldn’t relax. She knew she had to ask Jack for money. And she had to do it soon.

Finally Jack said, “Do you ever hear from Matt?”

So Jack knew about her divorce. It didn’t surprise her. The Newport Falls grapevine ran far beyond the borders of the city.

“Every now and then,” she said. “I spoke to him last week. He thinks he might come home soon.”

“Come home?”

“He lives in the Bahamas.” A marriage devoid of passion had not been what Matt had bargained for. She hadn’t loved him, truly loved him, and he’d sensed that. She blamed herself for his philandering, blamed herself when he left town with a secretary from the bank. Their divorce had been fairly amicable. There were no property or children to dispute. They simply left the marriage with whatever they brought into it. She got the newspaper and her parents’ house. He got his freedom.

Jack glanced away. “I meant, well, you said he was coming home. Does that mean returning to you?”

Katie shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She didn’t want to discuss this with Jack. Not now. Not ever. “No,” she said. “It means he’s returning to Newport Falls. We’ve been divorced for almost three years now.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, his eyes meeting hers.

“Thanks. But I’m not here to discuss the failure of my marriage or my personal life.” Immediately, Katie regretted her words and the tone of her voice. She didn’t mean to sound so nasty. Jack had been friends with both of them. She had expected him to mention the divorce. But her feelings toward Jack and her reactions to him had never been rational.

He leaned back in the booth and crossed his arms. She could see the muscles in his jaw tighten. “All right, Devonworth,” he said. “Or should I call you O’Malley?” he asked, referring to Matt’s last name.

“I kept my last name. But you can call me Katie.” He and Matt had always referred to each other, and her, by their last names. But they were kids then. Things had changed.

“Okay, Katie,” he said. “Why are you here?” He wiped his mouth and put down his napkin.

She shifted her gaze. “I, uh, well, I have wondered about you. Wondered how you were doing, what you were up to…” She stumbled.

“Really?” Jack said. “You haven’t asked me one question about what I’ve been doing. And you’re doing that thing with your hair, twirling it like you do whenever you’ve got something on your mind.”

Out of the corner of her eye she glanced at her finger. She had twisted her hair around it like a wet noodle.

Jack said, “I’m getting the impression this is more than just a personal visit.”

“Okay.” She lowered her hand and leaned forward. “My newspaper, The Falls—”

“I know the name of your newspaper.”

“We’re in trouble. We need cash, badly.”

“I see.” His blue eyes darkened. She thought he looked angry, and she guessed it was because she had not told him the truth about why she wanted to see him. “And you want me to help.” It was not a question, but a statement.

“I’m hoping,” she said.

Jack met her gaze directly. “What’s going on?”

“We lost our major advertiser, Holland’s department store.”

“What happened?”

“Holland’s went bankrupt last spring.” Holland’s was the only department store in Newport Falls. It had employed hundreds of people. A lot of those people had been forced to find work in Albany, an hour and a half south. Many had already put their homes on the market. Unfortunately, none of the real estate was selling. But that news certainly wouldn’t convince Jack to invest. “But before that,” she added truthfully, “circulation was growing.”

“So your revenues have been increasing?”

Something about the way he asked the question told her he already knew the answer. “No,” she said quietly. “I’ve made some changes since Dad died. I’ve picked up some syndicated columns and brought in some experienced reporters.” She shrugged. “It all costs money.”

“Money you don’t have.”

She swallowed. “I’ve already applied for loans, Jack. I’ve been turned down all over the place. You’re my last hope. If I don’t get money soon, The Falls is going to go out of business.”

“Is that so bad? You’re a terrific reporter. You could go anywhere.”

“I don’t want to go anywhere,” she said angrily. “Newport Falls is my home. But it’s not just that. My father spent his whole life working to keep this paper afloat. I’ve had it eleven years and I, well…” She stopped talking and took a breath. Get a grip, she commanded herself. Don’t start crying. This is business. “It’s not just about me,” she said, meeting his eyes. “I employ almost three hundred people. Can you imagine what it will do to the local economy if The Falls goes out of business?”

He glanced away.

She could still read Jack Reilly like a book. And her instincts told her that coming here was a waste of time. He had no interest in investing in a small-town newspaper that would never make a lot of money.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Devonworth,” he began. “I mean,” he said quickly, “Katie.”

“Please, Jack,” she said. “We were friends once. I need your help.”

Jack looked at her. He hesitated. As if on cue, his phone rang, giving him the distraction he no doubt wanted. From what he said, she could tell he was talking to someone at his office. Then she heard him say, “What’s on my schedule tomorrow?” He paused, looked at Katie and said, “Cancel it. I have to go out of town. Arrange a trip to Newport Falls. It’s outside of Albany, that’s where. Thanks.” He hung up the phone and said to Katie, “I want to go there and see it.”

“What?” she asked.

“Your paper, of course. The Falls.”

Jack had been inside the building a million times when they were growing up. Besides a new coat of paint, nothing had changed.

He continued, “I want to meet some of these hotshot reporters you’ve hired. I want to talk to your director of advertising and see how firm his—”

“Her,” she corrected him.

“Her commitments are for the next couple of years. See what she’s doing to increase revenues.”

“Okay,” she said.

He stood up. “I’ll be at your office at three.”

When he held out his hand, she took it and stood. But he didn’t let go immediately. She thought he held on for a split second too long as he said, “It’s good to see you again, Katie.”



Jack escorted Katie to the corner and hailed her a cab. After she was seated, she turned up her face to him and said, “Thanks, Jack.” He tried not to focus on her soft, red lips; instead, he shut the door. But he stood there, watching the cab pull away. Only after it disappeared from sight did he finally move—and then not back to his office but in the opposite direction.

He needed a chance to clear his mind. Seeing Katie again, being so close to her after all these years, made his head spin.

He’d always hoped that he had been successful in his attempt to rid her from his mind. But he had found just because he’d taken her out of his life did not mean her spirit no longer lingered. She was the standard that he challenged other women to meet, she was the ghost with whom they competed.

When she first called him, he’d told himself that it would be harmless to meet with her. She no longer had any power over him. But when she walked into his office that afternoon all hopes of being over Katie Devonworth faded. The girl of his dreams had turned into a woman, more beautiful than he could imagine. Her chestnut hair had been cut to her shoulders, framing her big brown expressive eyes. She was as slim and athletic as she had been in high school, but now with curves in all the right places. The blouse she’d worn had clung to her breasts, allowing him to see their fullness.

From the moment he saw her, he knew that he would have to make their lunch as short as possible. That he would have to endure his time with her and then do his best to forget her again. He had little choice. Katie had made it clear long ago that she no longer loved him.

Once again, he thought of that moment at the creek, the day she confessed her feelings for him. He could still remember the taste of her lips, the smell of her skin.

He had loved Katie more than life itself, and it had taken every ounce of conviction to walk away from her. But he had little choice. He knew only too well what happened when love was consummated too soon. He himself was the result of such a liaison.

When he first met Jack’s mother, his father, Robert, had been nineteen, a college freshman in the small town of Addison Park, Iowa. His mother, June, was only sixteen, still in high school. They fell in love at first sight and quickly became inseparable. They pledged their love, determined to spend the rest of their lives together. But June’s parents were not pleased with the match. They had hoped their only daughter would do better than an orphan dependent on scholarships. When June got pregnant, Robert begged her parents to allow them to marry. But her parents wouldn’t consider it. Embarrassed by their daughter’s pregnancy, they sent her away without telling his father where she’d gone. Robert had found out too late that she had been sent to live with an aunt in the country.

His father never saw his mother again. When his mother went into labor, her aunt had tried to deliver the baby herself. June had died in childbirth. His father had taken Jack and returned home to Newport Falls, but he’d never forgiven himself.

Jack was reminded of his parents’ doomed relationship every day of his life. He vowed that no matter how much he loved Katie, no matter how much he desired her, he would not allow her to suffer the same fate as his mother. He needed to become the type of man Katie deserved; then, and only then, would they have a future.

Jack left for college determined to prove himself, determined to make something of himself. And when he did, only when he did, would he be able to marry the woman he loved.

But he had misjudged the situation. He had convinced himself that he and Katie had a special connection, a connection that didn’t need to be spoken of to be real.

But he was wrong. Just when he had begun to make something of himself and felt ready to propose, she had married his best friend.

The marriage had shocked him. How could she? If she had felt for him one tenth of what he did, she would never have been able to escape into someone else’s arms.

And Matt? Matt wasn’t interested in Katie until he found out how Jack felt about her. He remembered the night in junior high when he told Matt he loved her. They were lying in Old Man Kroner’s field, arms crossed, looking up at the sky. Just the two of them. Matt had been teasing him about some girl in school when Jack told him he had it all wrong.

“What do you mean?” Matt had asked.

“I mean,” Jack said, “that I love someone else.”

Matt rolled over. Love was a big word, and being in tenth grade, neither had ever used it to describe a feeling before. “You?” Matt asked. “Who?”

“Katie,” Jack said. “I’m going to marry her one day.”

“Katie?” Matt laughed. “Oh, right!”

“What’s so funny? I have it all figured out. I even have the ring.”

“Where did you get it? A Cracker Jack box?”

“It was my grandmother’s. My father wanted to give it to my mother, but he never got a chance. It’s a diamond, with two rubies on either side—”

“Wait a minute,” Matt interrupted. “Katie is someone you play basketball with. She’s not the type of girl you fall in love with. And marry? Come on!”

“She’s who I want,” Jack said. “Who I’ve always wanted.”

Matt fell silent again. Then he said, “Does she know?”

“No. I can’t tell her yet. Not now.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re too young. Katie and I aren’t going to end up like my parents.”

Matt was silent.

“I have to wait,” Jack said. “I have a plan. I’m going to make a million dollars and then I’ll marry her.”

“If you make a million dollars there’s gonna be a lot of women you can marry.”

“I don’t want a lot of women. I want Katie.”

Jack should’ve known that Matt would then want her, too. Matt had always competed with him. Jack never understood it. After all, his friend had such a head start in life. He came from a good family, was a natural athlete, went to all the best schools. Yet he always seemed to be looking over his shoulder at Jack.

Shortly before Jack returned from Europe, he had called Matt. He was worried about Katie. Her father’s death had been extremely hard on her, and she’d had to leave college to take over the reins of his struggling newspaper. Jack couldn’t stand to be so far from her, knowing that she was in pain and not being there to provide comfort. So even though he had not yet acquired the financial position he’d hoped, he could no longer wait to propose to Katie. He was coming home. It was time to tell Katie how much he loved her and ask for her hand in marriage.

Matt, his best friend, had betrayed him, rushing forward with his own proposal. He and Katie were married the day Jack returned. Jack had attended their wedding with his grandmother’s ring still in his pocket.

But it was not a clear victory. On the day of the wedding, right after Matt had gloated over his “win,” he had asked Jack to stay away from her. To break off contact. “You’ll only confuse her,” Matt had said.

“Confuse her?” Jack had asked. “What are you talking about? I thought you said she loves you.”

“She married me, didn’t she?” Matt had said, before walking away. But Matt needn’t have worried. Jack could no longer stand to be around Katie. Even when he heard about their divorce, he convinced himself that it was best not to call her. Still, he’d hoped she might call and tell him she’d made a mistake marrying Matt. That it was he she had loved all along, not Matt. But the call never came. And so he Jack attempted to exorcise her from his mind and his life. He had no choice. His love for her was poisoning him and his relationships with other women.

But today she reappeared, asking for help. And he realized immediately why he had never called her. He couldn’t. His love for her was every bit as strong as it had been that day down by the creek. But unlike that day, it was unrequited.

Jack found himself stopped in front of his office. Still, he thought, looking up at the towering building that bore his name, he owed Katie. Because if it were not for her, he doubted he would’ve been able to channel so much fire and energy into his work. He would never have succeeded.

And so he would try to help her. He’d give her a chance, but that was all.

He’d go to Newport Falls, as promised. It was only a day, eight hours max. He could handle being back in Newport Falls, being with Katie, for a day. Especially now. After landing an international deal, he was moving to London in several weeks to open a European branch of his company.

Once again, he thought of the day at the creek, the day that Katie had said she loved him. How intoxicating it had been.

He should’ve known that chances of a lifetime don’t come twice.




Two


“Don’t read too much into it,” Marcella warned her. Marcella was the director of advertising for The Falls, as well as Katie’s friend. “He said it was good to see you. I’m sure he meant it.”

“What makes you think I’m reading too much into it?” Katie asked. After a fitful night, she’d arrived at the office at 5:00 a.m., pulling files and getting everything ready for Jack’s visit. To make matters worse, Matt had called and she’d made the mistake of telling him about seeing Jack. Surprisingly, he had morphed into the big brother once again, warning her to be careful. But careful of what?

“Because of the look in your eyes whenever you mention his name.”

Katie thought of Matt’s admonition. Was this what he’d insinuated? That despite her marriage and the years that had passed, she was still in love with his former best friend? “What look?”

“The he’s-so-dreamy look.”

“The man every gossip columnist refers to as the Iceman?”

“I thought it was Heartbreak Kid,” Marcella retorted.

Katie nodded. Jack was a constant figure in the society columns across the country. He was a known playboy, beloved by gossips everywhere.

She shook her head and sighed. “He sure didn’t act as if he was happy to see me. He was so…distant. He didn’t even talk to me directly when I called. And he kept me waiting for forty-five minutes—”

“And then he offered to bail you out.”

“He didn’t offer. Not yet, anyway. He wants to see me jump through hoops first. And even then, there are no guarantees.”

Marcella shrugged. That was all Katie needed to keep going. She said, “It is nice of him to come all the way out here, but I had to beg him to help. And I can guarantee you he’s not excited about it. You should have seen him at lunch. It was obvious he doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

“Like I said, you’re reading too much into this.”

“Am I? He made me wait and then he kept me twiddling my thumbs while he ignored me. He never even bothered to apologize. I knew he would be late today.” She pointed to her watch. “It’s four o’clock.”

“But his office said his morning meeting ran a little longer than expected.”

“It’s all part of his schtick.”

“What schtick?”

“The I’m-a-big-deal-now schtick.” Like most of the people who worked for her, Katie had known Marcella her whole life. They’d gone to school together, and Marcella had not only witnessed Katie’s crush on Jack but had seen how devastated Katie had been when Jack hadn’t reciprocated her feelings.

“He is a big deal. And he’s giving you a chance. That’s more than any of the other people would do.”

“Humph.” Katie shrugged.

“Maybe there are some unresolved feelings.”

“No way. If he still cared a hoot about me he would’ve called or written.”

“I wasn’t talking about Jack.”

Katie stared up from her desk. “I may have cared for the old Jack Reilly, the one without the fancy suits and high-rise office, but I couldn’t care less about the new version. He’s not my type.”

“He was for a very long time.”

“That was before he left town, before he stopped writing, stopped calling. Before he forgot who he was.”

“I think thou dost protest too much.”

Katie felt her cheeks heating up. “I guarantee you, whatever feelings I had for Jack Reilly are no more. Sure, he may still make me nervous,” she said, remembering the way her heart had accelerated when she first saw him again, “but that’s normal.”

Marcella raised her eyebrows.

“My interest in Jack Reilly is purely professional. I called him only as a last resort. I mean, wait till he gets here. You’ll see. It’s no accident that we’ve had to wait a gazillion minutes. Jack’s so cocky now, so arrogant, so full of himself…”

“And so behind you,” Marcella said.



Jack stood in the doorway. He’d heard almost every word of Katie’s litany against him. But it hadn’t angered him. In fact, he was flattered he could still squeak genuine emotion out of the normally reserved town sweetheart.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said. “My meeting ran a little long this morning.”

He pretended not to notice the look of absolute horror in Katie’s eyes. He saw her glance at Marcella. “No problem,” Katie said quickly.

“And then my pilot had some last-minute things to take care of before we took off.”

“My pilot?” asked Marcella. She shot Katie a look, impressed. “You have your own plane?”

Jack nodded. “Anyway, I can see I’m interrupting. I’d be happy to wait, though. How long do you think you’ll be? A gazillion minutes?”

“Nice to see you again, Jack,” Marcella said, rushing past him.

“Look, Jack,” Katie said. Her normally pale face was beet-red. “I’m sorry about that. You know me. I never liked to wait.”

Jack’s smile faded. “Yes,” he said. She certainly had not waited for him. “I know.”

“Well,” she said, breezing past him. Jack recognized her perfume. It was soft yet enticing, the same scent she’d worn in high school. She turned to face him. Then she flashed him the smile he had committed to memory. “Let’s get started, shall we?”



Katie had the sudden urge to throw up. How could she have been so stupid, talking about him like that when he was due any time? Whatever her history was with Jack, she had to get over it. After all, she needed him. This paper needed him. Without him, the entire town was sunk.

But still… She thought of the way he’d mentioned his pilot. It was as if he wanted her to know that he didn’t fly commercial anymore. He had his own private plane. Well, big deal! He may be a hotshot in New York, but she would always be able to cream him with a snowball.

She showed Jack around the offices. He seemed unimpressed, almost bored. He sat through the various meetings with a stone face, every now and then interrupting to ask a question.

At one point, when she and Marcella escaped to the ladies’ room, Marcella grabbed her arm and said, “Oh, my God, he’s so gorgeous…I mean, he was always gorgeous but not like that. What happened to him?”

“It’s the suit,” Katie replied, trying to convince herself. And they both laughed. For it was apparent that underneath the expensive suit, the crisp, starched shirt and the pearl cuff links, Jack was every bit the muscular hunk he had been in school.

At the end of the day, she led him back to her office. “I’d like to meet with some of those reporters you talked about,” he said.

“Right,” Katie replied. She picked up her phone and dialed Luanna Combs, her most recent coup. Luanna had worked at the Baltimore Sun for ten years before joining The Falls. But Luanna didn’t pick up her extension.

Katie hung up the phone, distressed. She checked her watch. It was almost six. Except for today she wouldn’t expect Luanna to be at the office past five-thirty. After all, that was part of the deal, part of why she was able to woo high-level staff. She promised flexible work hours and little overtime, a family-friendly environment.

She glanced at Jack. He crossed his arms.

She swallowed and tried another extension. Bobby, the assistant for the reporters, picked up. “Where’s Luanna?” she asked.

“She left. Said she was really sorry, but she got a call from school. Her kid’s got red spots all over—they think it’s chicken pox.”

“What about Brett?” she asked. Brett Wilson was her top reporter, whom she’d somehow snagged from the Los Angeles Times.

“Tanker overturned on Route 44. Brett’s covering it.”

“And Shelley?” she asked, already anticipating the answer.

“Gone. Her husband got the stomach flu so she had to pick up her kids from day care. Turned in her story, though. Damn good.”

When she hung up the phone, Jack raised his eyebrows and said, “Well?”

“They’re not here.”

“None of them? Where are they?”

“The three I wanted you to meet aren’t… Well, they’re not available right now.”

“This newspaper’s future is riding on three employees? That’s why you haven’t increased revenues? Because you’re paying top dollar to only three—”

“They’ll be in tomorrow,” she said crossly. “If you can’t stick around to talk to them, well, I guess I’ll just thank you for your time and see you out.”

He hesitated a moment. “They’ll be available tomorrow—guaranteed?”

“Guaranteed,” she said. Even if she had to watch their kids for them and cover the newsbeat.

“Okay,” he said.

“You’ll stay?” she asked, surprised.

He nodded as he flipped open his cell phone and called his office. She could hear him talking to his secretary, rearranging his schedule. “And call Carol,” he said. “See if you can reschedule her for another night.”

Jealousy stabbed her heart. Carol? He was obviously canceling a date.

She cleared her throat, as if trying to rid herself of poisonous feelings. She had no business being jealous. Instead, she should be feeling sorry for the poor woman. After all, he didn’t even have the decency to call himself, his secretary did it for him.

He shut the phone and told her, “One more day.” He looked at his watch. “Does Mrs. Crutchfield still run the inn on Main Street?”

“Yep,” Katie said. But she didn’t see this new Jack Reilly comfortable in a simple country inn. She was certain he would prefer accommodations that offered room service. “But there’s a nice Hyatt in Albany.”

“The inn will be fine. I’ll ask Greg to drive some clothes over.”

“Who’s Greg and what clothes?”

“Greg’s my pilot. He does a bunch of things besides just flying planes.”

“You mean he’s a valet, too?” She couldn’t help the sarcasm.

Once again, she saw the grin creep up his lips. “If needed. I keep an extra set of clothes on the plane, just in case.”

“Of course,” she said. After all, who didn’t?

When she stood up, Jack surprised her and said, “Do you have plans this evening?”

“I, uh, no,” she stammered.

“Good. I’d like to take you out to a nice dinner. Pick any place you want. We can catch up.”

“Sure,” she said. She had just the place in mind.

Joe’s Diner was located on the corner of Main and Howe Streets, almost directly across the street from the paper. It had been in existence ever since Joe Pecorillo first arrived in Albany from Italy in the late 1920s. Since then, it had stayed in the family, passing from Joe Sr., to Joe Jr., to Joe the third. Joe the third, otherwise known as Joey, was about sixty years old and had managed it since Katie was a kid. She, Jack and Matt had spent many hours at Joe’s sharing milkshakes and burgers. Jack even worked there his senior year before college.

If Jack was surprised by her choice, he didn’t show it. In fact, she thought he seemed relieved, almost happy that she had not chosen a more romantic and quiet place.

After Jack had shaken hands with Joe they settled into a worn, yet cozy booth by the window. Jack looked around and said, “It’s kind of quiet for Thursday night, isn’t it?”

Besides them, only three other tables were taken. “Not really,” she said. “I told you, things have changed. I’m sure you noticed the out-of-business signs. A lot of people have left town. It’s hard to find work around here. Unless something is done, Newport Falls is going to turn into a ghost town.”

“But Lois Lane is going to save it. Or do you see yourself as Brenda Starr?”

“Neither,” she said coldly. “This is my hometown. I love it here. I love the fact that when I’m sick, I can count on Mrs. Crutchfield to make me chicken soup. I can count on Ms. Faunally to bring me her homemade strawberry jelly in the spring. I can count on the Wellers to entertain the entire town at Halloween. I can count on Mr. Pete to know I’m entertaining if I buy an extra package of steaks at his grocery store. I can count on the wild azaleas to bloom like crazy every summer. I know some people don’t like small towns, but—”

“You do. I got it, Devonworth. But not everyone has such fond memories of this place.”

She stopped. Jack’s father had died the year after he left for college. They had buried him in the town cemetery, not too far from where her parents were buried. “I know,” she said. “But your memories aren’t all bad, are they?”

“No. Thanks to you…and Matt,” he said, adding Matt’s name almost as an afterthought.

“Lots of other people cared about you, too,” Katie said. “Lots of other people still do. Mr. Pete was just asking me about you the other day.”

“How’s his business?” Jack asked. He had worked for Mr. Pete for years, bagging groceries and helping out around the store.

“Like everything else, not great.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jack said. Then without skipping a beat he said, “Should we order?”

Katie ate her meal in silence, inwardly steaming about the cold, callous way Jack had handled the news of Mr. Pete’s business. How could he be so offhand about a man who had been nothing but kind to him? After they finished eating, she said, “Do you plan on seeing anyone else while you’re here?”

He stood up and took her coat off the hook, held it open for her. “No.”

“No?” she repeated as she slipped into her coat. “I’m sure Mrs. Bayons would like to see you.”

“I don’t have time,” he said.

“Maybe tomorrow—”

“No. I have something to take care of in the morning. After which I’m going directly to your office. I have to be back in the city tomorrow night.”

“Oh, right.” For his date with Carol.

“I doubt I have anything to say to anyone here, anyway.”

His aim had been direct and sharp. She stopped walking and looked at him, hurt. She got the message. Jack had broken all connection to Newport Falls.

But Jack appeared oblivious to her pain. He said goodbye to Joe and held the door open for her. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

But she didn’t have a car. This morning, despite the fact that it was January and freezing cold, she had ridden her bike. She told Jack.

He looked at her, surprised. “You rode your bike in this weather?”

“Why not? The roads are clear. Besides, I wanted exercise.”

“You’re not still living at your parents’ place, are you?”

Her parents’ farm was about five miles outside of town. More than a hundred acres, it included an old and rather worn Victorian house and a pond where they had fished and swum in the summers, ice-skated in the winters. “I’ve moved back there, yes.”

“It’s too far and too cold to ride all the way back. I’ll drive you. I rented a car at the airport.”

But she didn’t think she could stand one more minute talking to him or not talking to him, as the case might be. What had happened to her friend? To the warm, caring, funny guy whom she had loved with all of her heart?

Outside the newspaper, she stopped at the bike rack on the sidewalk. There was no lock on her bike, none was needed in Newport Falls. “Thanks for dinner,” she said. She felt a raindrop, then another. No matter, she was used to riding in all types of weather.

Jack grabbed her hand and stopped her. He hesitated a moment and then said, “You can’t save the world, Devonworth.”

“I don’t want to save the world, Reilly. Just Newport Falls.”

He held tight, pulling her back toward him. “I can’t let you go like this.”

“Why not?” she asked, her heart pounding.

“Because,” he said, dropping her hand and motioning toward the sky, “it’s raining.”

She pulled her sneakers out of her backpack. “You used to ride your bike in the rain all the time,” she replied as she switched shoes right there on the sidewalk. “Or did you forget about that, too?” When she was finished, she shoved her pumps into her bag and hopped on her bike as gracefully as she could. “See you tomorrow.”

She pedaled through the dark streets. She knew each and every home by heart. They were inhabited by friends, by people she had known her entire life. As she drove by the yellow bungalow on the corner, she knew that the blue light flickering on the first floor meant Mr. and Mrs. Holmes were sitting in their matching La-Z-Boys, watching Jeopardy on the living-room TV. She pedaled past old Mrs. Honeywell’s house. She knew the dim light in the second-floor window meant Mrs. Honeywell was tucked into bed, petting her white poodle, Betsy, and reading one of the bloody mysteries she was so fond of. She passed by the little red house on the corner. The house was dark because its owners, Jan and Tony Bintlif, and their newborn son, Alex, were visiting Jan’s parents in Florida.

She was glad it was raining, because if anyone saw her in the dark gloom of this January night, they wouldn’t notice her tears. Jack was right about one thing: she desperately wanted to save Newport Falls. She would never again find a place where everyone knew not only her first and last name, but her middle name, as well. A place where people didn’t have to worry about locking their doors. A place where stranger was a foreign word.

Unfortunately, Marcella was right. Katie wouldn’t be able to save the town without Jack’s help.

When headlights flashed behind her, Katie rode over to the side of the road. But the car didn’t pass. Instead, it pulled up alongside her. “You sure you don’t want a ride?” It was Jack.

“I’m sure,” she said. “Good night.”

He slowed the car down, and for a minute she thought he was going to turn around. But he didn’t. He followed behind her, his headlights illuminating the way.



Jack followed her all the way home. He pulled his car into her driveway, parking behind her. He knew she was annoyed but he didn’t care. He wasn’t about to let her ride her bike on a rainy night alone. It made no difference that Newport Falls was the safest place in the country. The roads were slick and a tired driver might not notice someone pedaling a bike on the side of the road. After all, who in their right mind would ride a bike to work in January?

Katie, of course. She had always done things differently from anyone else. Eccentric, they’d call her in New York City. There had never been, nor would there ever be, another woman like her. Feisty and opinionated, beautiful and brainy, with a killer body and a heart of gold.

When Katie tapped on his window, he rolled it down. “You didn’t need to follow me home,” she said.

“What?” he said, pretending to be surprised. “I thought this was the way to the inn!” The inn, which everyone knew, was directly next to the diner.

Katie grinned. It was enough to make him smile. He nodded toward her parents’ house. “It still looks the same.”

Katie nodded. “Thanks for following me,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then she bounded off toward the house.

Part of him wanted to chase after her. Open a bottle of wine and sit by the fire, just the two of them. He would tell her how nice it was to see her again. Explain how badly he felt that they had lost contact. How he wanted to make things right…

He stopped himself. He could not allow old feelings to surface. He reminded himself once again that Katie had long ago stopped caring for him, and only a fool would think otherwise. As he had heard her say in her office, she had turned to him only as a last resort. And it was only for money.

But her heart was in the right place. He could see why she was attached to Newport Falls, and he knew why she was desperate to save it. How it had changed since he had grown up here! There was a distinct creakiness to the town now, as if it were suffering from a terminal illness. The changes were not subtle. For Sale signs littering yards. Stores with windows boarded up. Empty streets and restaurants. It made him sad to think that Newport Falls might soon be just as Katie had said. A ghost town.

Jack drove back to the inn, mulling over all the thoughts that cluttered his mind. He didn’t like feeling this way, his mind in turmoil. He found himself yearning to be back in the safe, sterile confines of his office. His life had a comfortable rhythm, revolving around work. There were women, of course. Plenty of women. But his relationships were based on sex, not emotion.

But the gossip columnists were wrong when they said he did not want to commit. He was envious of his peers with wives and families. He could only hope he would be so lucky one day. But first, he needed to find the right woman.

And to forget about Katie.




Three


Katie woke up the next morning feeling as if she had just dodged a bullet. She was surprised by her feelings for Jack. She had hoped that their years apart would’ve lessened her desire for him, that she was finally over him.

For a while at least, she had half convinced herself she had succeeded. After all, it had been so awkward in the diner. It hadn’t seemed as strange being with Jack in New York. But to be having dinner with the man she had loved so intensely, in the place where they had spent so much time, was odd and uncomfortable, to say the least. He had changed since they were last at Joe’s Diner. Jack was still handsome, there was no doubt about that. But it wasn’t his looks that had attracted Katie. It was his heart.

But just when she was certain that he had hardened over the years, that her friend was unrecognizable, he went and followed her home. Sweet and a little crazy, it was a total Jack thing to do.

Thankfully she had possessed enough self-control and self-respect not to invite him in. After all, the end result would have been disastrous. She probably would’ve confessed her true feelings or, worse yet, acted on them. And Jack, once again, would’ve run for the hills. She would have been left brokenhearted all over again. And she would’ve let down all the people who worked for her. All the people who were dependent upon Jack investing in The Falls.

Damn! She had half hoped that Jack really had changed. That his tough childhood had finally caught up with him and he’d lost the sweetness he had once preserved so effortlessly. It would have been understandable. After all, despite his recent success, life had given him many reasons to be bitter. He’d never known his mother, nor had he known any other relatives besides his father. And although Katie had always felt Jack’s father loved him, he was too incapacitated to function as a parent. Jack had grown up in a one-bedroom shack on the outskirts of town. Many times the house had no running water or heat. But Jack never grieved over his situation. He’d worked as long as Katie could remember, paying for his own clothes and groceries. He raised not only himself, but took care of his father, as well.

There was no self-pity, either. “There’re a lot of people who have it worse than me,” he’d said whenever she or Matt would express concern. And that may have been true. One thing was certain, though. No one in Newport Falls had it worse than Jack Reilly.

And, because of that, Jack always had to fight for respect. There were a couple of incidents in which Jack was blamed for something he didn’t do—like when the tools were stolen from the hardware store and the time someone robbed the Creeley house. But in both instances Jack was exonerated. It seemed like some people just couldn’t believe a boy who had grown up with a rotten father could be so decent and kind. But he was.

Katie remembered the spring day she, Matt and Jack were walking home from school and saw black smoke billowing out of the Pelton home. Mrs. Pelton was crying on the street, comforting her six-year-old son, Frank. “They’re still inside,” the boy was screaming. “Rosie’s still inside.”

Rosie was the family dog, a four-year-old golden retriever who had just had puppies. A normally obedient dog, Rosie had sensed danger and refused to leave her babies. Mrs. Pelton and Frank had run out of the house, narrowly escaping, but the dogs were trapped in the boy’s second-floor bedroom.

Before Katie could stop him, Jack had climbed the tree in front of the Pelton home. He jumped from the tree to the roof, just as he had done at her house many times. When he tried to open the window and found it locked, he kicked it in, shattering the glass. He pulled his T-shirt up over his mouth and climbed inside.

Both Katie and Matt had pleaded with him to stay outside with them. But when it became apparent Jack wasn’t going to listen, Matt followed him up the tree.

Suddenly, Jack appeared at the window with a puppy in his hands. One at a time he handed them to Matt, who passed them down to Katie. When all four puppies were rescued, Jack appeared with Rosie. They escaped just as the flames licked the window. By the time the fire trucks arrived, the house was destroyed.

Jack became a local hero after that. The town even gave him a special award at a picnic in his honor. But his father didn’t show. The night of the picnic Katie could see Jack looking around for him. Afterward, when she mentioned it, he had blown it off in his typical casual manner. “It’s no big deal,” he said. “I didn’t expect him to be there.” But she knew whether he expected him or not, it still hurt. “You guys were there,” he said. “That’s what counts.”

She always knew Jack would leave town as soon as he could. She wasn’t surprised when he got a full academic scholarship to Princeton. Nor was she surprised when he chose prestigious summer internships over bagging groceries in Newport Falls. Although she told herself that it was the logical thing to do, her heart still ached. She missed Jack, longed for him. And she held on to the hope that one day he would feel the same way about her.

But each year he wrote less and less. She and Matt found themselves comparing notes, trying to read between the lines in Jack’s abbreviated letters. Although he returned when her father died and stayed with her for an entire week, it was clear their relationship had run its course. When Jack graduated from college and took a position in London, Katie couldn’t hide her devastation. She knew that even though he said when he returned, things would be as they once were between them, his promise was an empty one. Their friendship was all but over.

With Jack in Europe and her father gone, Katie had relied more than ever on her old friend Matt. Everyone had assumed she and Matt were a couple long before it had occurred to Katie. She had just never seen Matt that way. But when her mother became ill and jumped on the bandwagon, as well, Katie had forced herself to see him as a potential candidate for romance.

Still, Katie held out for Jack. Then one day Matt informed her that Jack was the one who had encouraged him to ask her out in the first place. Matt told her that Jack had always known the two of them were meant for each other. That Jack had even encouraged him to marry her.

Katie had been stunned. But then she thought back to the day at the creek, and it all seemed to make sense. Jack had never loved her. If he had, he wouldn’t have left.

As Katie recalled those days so long ago, she poured herself a cup of coffee and curled up on the living-room couch. She remembered that when she had decided to marry Matt, she’d told herself she was making a wise decision. She would be with her friend, her best friend, the remainder of her life. It was the only way to assure that he wouldn’t leave her, too, that she wouldn’t suffer another heartbreak.

But, of course, she had. Marriage was no insurance against pain.

Theirs had lasted only six years. She had cut him free, just as he had wished. Not only had she given him his freedom, she had forgiven him.

She realized that she had not extended the same courtesy to Jack. As much as she tried, her heart had never let him go. She had hung on to her feelings like a sole survivor on a sinking ship. She needed to let him go, finally and forever.

She was embarrassed by her behavior the previous evening. Jack had come to Newport Falls to try to help her, yet she had returned his kindness by behaving like a spurned lover.

Katie set down her coffee. She was thankful to have another day with her old friend. She would apologize to Jack and make it up to him. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was almost eight. Jack said he had some business to take care of before heading to the office. And she knew just where to find him.



Jack walked through the arched gates of the cemetery, carrying three bouquets of red roses. The temperature had dropped sharply and the rain had turned to snow. Several inches were already on the ground. Jack glanced around, admiring the familiar landscape. The cemetery seemed to be the only place in Newport Falls that was just as he remembered. Beautiful, yet desolate.

He stepped over the withered, barren rosebushes and made his way over to where his father was buried. Jack had been here several times to pay respects, though the visits were never pleasant. It wasn’t just his father’s death that saddened him, but his life. His father had been an alcoholic for as long as Jack could remember. His life had been a graveyard of missed opportunities.

Jack’s father had never recovered from the loss of the woman he loved so dearly. He tried at first, attempting to reclaim his sanity by dropping out of college and returning to Newport Falls. But even old friends couldn’t save him from the guilt. Stalked by invisible demons, he found solace only in alcohol. Jack couldn’t remember a time when his father was employed. Nor could he remember his father ever showing any tenderness toward him. Jack had grown up fast, forced to fend not only for himself, but many times, for his father, as well. Jack had been determined to make the town proud of him, determined that his fate would be different than his father’s. He wouldn’t allow himself to be destroyed by love. But it seemed the harder he tried to escape, the more furiously fate pursued him.

When Katie had married Matt, Jack had found escape from his pain not through the bottle, but work. He went to Yale for his MBA. He was willing to work longer, harder than anyone else. And his determination paid off. In a business built on family contacts, Jack climbed his way up the ladder the old-fashioned way, rung by rung.

Jack wished he had known his father better. He wished he could talk to him, tell him that he now understood the pain. He now understood why his father shut himself off from the world. Shut himself off from his only child.

Jack placed one bouquet of red roses on his father’s grave and stood up, brushing the snow off his pants. But he wasn’t ready to leave. He walked toward the old oak tree where the Devonworths were buried.

At first he had trouble finding their graves. The snow was falling faster now, sticking to the ground in fat, white clumps. But he persevered, brushing the snow off the tombstones until he found their matching white ones. Jack had known they would not have anything elaborate, anything that drew attention to the spot. They were plain, simple people in life, and he knew that was the way they wanted to be remembered.

As Jack placed the remaining roses on their grave, he felt a rush of emotion. The Devonworths always stood behind him. No matter what was happening at home, he could always count on them for support. They had welcomed him into their home for meals and holidays, always treating him with love and respect.

He would’ve liked to repay their kindness. To promise them that he would do his best to take care of their daughter. But it was too late for promises.

He turned to leave. He had a terrible task to deal with today. On some level he had known from the moment Katie had asked him for money that his company could not invest. Yet he had convinced himself that perhaps things had changed, perhaps The Falls was not the simple paper he remembered. He’d been kidding himself, and instead of just leaving after his meetings yesterday, he had extended his visit. Why? Because of some lingering sentiment toward Katie. But he couldn’t help her. He doubted anyone could. It didn’t matter what reporters she had working for her. It didn’t matter how many awards they won or what syndicated columns Katie could pick up.

A paper in a dying town was a losing investment.

“Jack?”

At first he thought he was imagining things. But there she was, underneath the cemetery’s arched gates. “Katie,” he breathed.

She walked toward him. Snowflakes had attached to her long lashes. The ends of her red scarf, wrapped around her slender neck, blew sideways in the wind. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I wanted to talk to you. Away from the office.”

“But how did you know I’d be here?”

“You haven’t been back in years. What other business could you possibly have?”

He smiled. “Good work, detective.”

He glanced at the entranceway, and his smile evaporated as he recognized Katie’s bike parked outside. The thought of her riding her bike five miles in a snowstorm was like an ice pick going through his heart. He asked, “What was so important that it couldn’t wait?”

“I needed to apologize. You came back here to help me and I’ve had a chip on my shoulder ever since you arrived.”

Once again Jack thought of her parents buried behind him. Katie had lost her parents, her husband, and was about to lose the only other thing that mattered to her—her paper. She had been dealing with this all alone because he had hung her out to dry. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said.

“I’m sorry.” She looked at him and her eyes welled with tears. Instinct took over and he wrapped his arms around her. “Hey,” he said, “it’s me, Jack. There’s no need for apologies. I’m the one who owes you an apology.”

She seemed so light, almost ethereal. He wanted to hold her and protect her from the world. Suddenly, he didn’t think he could ever let go.

But Katie seemed to feel differently. She stiffened slightly, as if uncomfortable with his touch. He dropped his arms, and she stepped back from him.

He couldn’t blame her. What kind of a friend had he been? “You have every reason to be angry with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I should’ve come back for your mother’s funeral. I’m sorry. And I should’ve called when I heard you and Matt were getting divorced.”

“I don’t blame you,” she said. She shrugged and tucked her gloved hands in her pockets. “You were busy.”

“No,” Jack said. “That’s no excuse. It was… There were other reasons.” Selfish ones, he wanted to say. He could not forgive her for marrying Matt.

Katie glanced down at the ground. “I know it’s hard for you to come back here,” she said. “If I was you, I don’t know if I would want to come back to Newport Falls, either. I just… Well, I know your dad was very proud of you, Jack. He loved you.” Her eyes met his. “And so did…everyone else.”

“Your parents were always kind to me,” he said.

At the mention of her mother and father, she glanced toward the old oak tree. She could see the red flowers already dusted with snow. Surprised, she said, “You brought flowers?”

Jack nodded.

Still looking at her parents’ graves, she said, “I’m almost glad they’re not here to see what’s happening to the paper. It would break their hearts.”

What would break their hearts, Jack thought, was their daughter’s unhappiness. Jack took a step toward her, reaching out a gloved hand to touch her face.

This time she did not move away. Her eyes closed and her head seemed to melt into his hand. She touched his fingers, holding them to her cheek. Desire for her flooded his every muscle and vein. This is Katie, he reminded himself. She married your best friend….

She lifted her head slightly. For once, Jack ignored the voice in his head. His need for her was too overwhelming.

He crashed back through time. She was Katie, his Katie, and she was close enough to kiss. He leaned forward.

Just then, her bicycle fell, clanging against the steel gate of the cemetery. Jack jumped, like a thief caught approaching a vault.

Katie stood still, staring at him with her big brown eyes.

What in the hell was he doing? Had he lost his mind? Katie shows a little kindness and he’s ready to jump in the sack?

Because that was all it was. Wasn’t it? He wasn’t interested in anything more than a physical relationship. As he always joked, he was already married—to his job. He didn’t have the time nor the desire to fall in love.

Especially with Katie. He had already made that mistake.

Jack cleared his throat. One thing was clear. He needed to take care of business and get the hell out. Before he did something he regretted. He turned and walked over to her bike. With one hand, he lifted it to his shoulder and nodded toward his car. “We better get back to your office if I’m going to meet with those reporters.” He glanced at his watch. “I only have a little bit of time before I have to leave.” He didn’t trust himself to be around Katie Devonworth any longer than necessary.




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