CHAPTER ONE
JENNY BOUCHARD DROPPED a quarter in the jukebox at the Magnolia Cafe. She stared at the plastic button labeled B19. The button she always avoided. The song on B19 hadn’t changed in over twenty years.
She stood there ignoring B19… really she was. Her mind flooded with memories. She could almost feel Clay Miller’s physical presence beside her, taking her hand, transporting her back in time to the days of secret meetings and stolen moments together. So long ago. She tried so hard to push those memories from all consciousness. They should have been long forgotten, but occasionally she couldn’t fight it any longer, and they came rushing back, riding on waves of emotion.
Jenny’s heart tightened in her chest. For a moment, she sucked in air, but it didn’t seem to fill her lungs. So many choices she’d made, so many forks in the road, with impossible decisions to make. When neither option was one she had wanted to choose. But life was like that. And all those choices had led her to where she was now. She couldn’t change the path she had taken, but every once in a while she couldn’t help playing “what if.” Even if the game of “what if” was a slow, melancholy torture.
She closed her eyes and let the memories engulf her. She could almost smell the scent of Clay’s aftershave. Feel the closeness of him. Relive the feeling of completeness and safety in his arms.
“Hey, Jenns.” The voice was low. Deep. Warm. She almost believed she had really heard him. The memories were sucking her back in time, playing tricks with her mind.
“Jenns?”
That sounded more real. She opened her eyes and whirled around to face her greatest fear. Clay Miller. Right there. In the flesh. No longer safely confined to her memories and entwined with the song playing in her mind.
He stood there with the sun streaming in from the window behind him, outlining his tall muscular frame. His brown hair held not a touch of gray after all these years.
“Clay.” Had she really said his name out loud? How many years had it been since she’d allowed herself to speak his name? Seventeen years. She knew the exact date.
Her breath froze in her lungs. Or did it burn? She wasn’t sure. Her eyes locked on his and she felt almost drunk with the sight of him. Her breath still wouldn’t come. Nor any words. Her heart rammed against her rib cage and, for a moment, her emotions were so overwhelming she wasn’t sure if she was going to burst into tears or crazy maniacal laughter.
He looked good. Older. His face had hardened at the edges. His eyes—those steel blue eyes that could either shine with laughter or freeze into cold, unfeeling hardness—stared back at her.
Clay looked over her shoulder at the jukebox, took a quick glance at the songs, and punched B19 without a moment’s hesitation. “Our song.”
Like it was normal to stand here talking to her. Like seventeen years hadn’t passed in silence. Like she could deal with standing there, listening to their song.
He remembered too. Had he had any regrets? She doubted it. The pain of the breakup, so many years ago but still so fresh and raw when she thought of it, swept over her.
“Is it?” She lied, sure he didn’t believe her. “I was just getting ready to play some current country songs.” To prove her point, she dug into her purse for some more coins, dropped them in the jukebox, and hit a few more buttons.
She looked up at him, and his eyes told her he didn’t believe her. Well, that wasn’t her problem. He’d made it all too clear she wasn’t his problem. So he wasn’t hers either.
“You’re looking good, Jenny.”
His voice threw her again. Same voice, rolling over her as waves of memories crashed around her. She didn’t answer him. Her voice wouldn’t work, anyway. What did he want her to say? Hey, it’s great to see you? Well, it wasn’t.
He just stood there while the awkward silence thrust them apart. Good. That’s what she needed. Distance.
Okay, he won. She’d talk. “You home visiting your mom?” She finally found her voice, though it sounded weak and tremulous.
“We’re staying with her for a while. I’m working Doc Baker’s clinic for him, while he takes a few weeks’ vacation.”
Once again her traitorous lungs refused to let in any oxygen. Here? Our Doc Baker’s clinic? Now there was news she hadn’t heard. How could she not know that? Why hadn’t anyone told her? She knew why. Because the town had never forgotten. No one had wanted to be the one to tell her. It probably was the reason her friend, Becky Lee, had insisted Jenny come by the cafe today. Becky Lee needed to talk to her. Everyone would expect Becky Lee to break the news.
Becky Lee, bless her always-there-for-Jenny heart. She did know the secrets.
“Wh—what?” Jenny felt her life start to crumble around her. This was one thing she hadn’t planned on. Clay Miller, back in her life, even if it was only for a few weeks. She had always known there was a chance of seeing him when he came to visit his mother, Greta. Jenny had even seen him a few years ago, across the parking lot at the grocery store, trailed by two blonde girls. It had almost broken her heart at the time. Then a tall, gorgeous, blonde woman had gotten out of the car, dressed immaculately. It had been obvious, even from a distance, that the woman was ticked off at Clay. Jenny had heard snatches of the conversation drift across the parking lot.
“I’m sick of staying here.” The blonde woman nagged at Clay. “You always drag us to this boring little town.”
Clay had never even looked up to see Jenny standing there. She hadn’t given him much of a chance, though. She had quickly ducked into her car, threw it in gear, and pulled out of the parking lot without going into the grocery store… without a backward glance.
Almost.
She hadn’t been able to keep herself from one last look at him, walking into the store, with his youngest daughter clutching at his hand and dancing around at his side. The girl had tripped, and Clay had swiftly caught her before she had fallen. She had looked up at her father in adoration, with a look that said she was sure her daddy would never let her down.
That look had torn at her, making her unreasonably furious at fate. She’d sped the car out of the lot, away from the loving father and adoring daughter scene. She’d driven for hours that afternoon, down to the shore. She’d sat by the ocean and let her mind replay all her memories, torturing her, teasing her with “what ifs.”
She had indulged in an entire afternoon of self-pity. Then she’d brushed off the sand, gotten into her car, and driven home to her son and her husband, resolutely putting Clay out of her mind once and for all.
When she had gotten home that night, her husband had known something was wrong, but then he had probably heard Clay was in town and figured it out. But he hadn’t said a word. Joseph. He had always been there for her, too. Loved her. Protected her. Protected Nathan. She missed Joseph.
Her thoughts shot back to the present. Clay was still standing there. What was he saying?
“Can I get you some coffee?”
“No. Yes. Okay.” Had she said that? Had she actually agreed? Was she nuts? Their song was just finishing. The haunting tones drifted into silence, replaced by the clanking of dishes and snatches of conversations at the busy cafe.
Clay led the way to a vinyl-covered booth at the back of the restaurant. Becky Lee pushed through the swinging door from the kitchen and stopped in her tracks. She looked at Jenny, an eyebrow raised and her bright red lipsticked mouth slightly open in surprise. She regained her composure and headed over to where Clay was sliding into the booth.
“As I live and breathe… If it isn’t Clay Miller. I heard you were back in town. Your momma gonna give you a hand with those girls of yours? Bet she likes watching them too, now that she’s retired from teaching. Though I heard she’s been tutoring kids after school, and a handful this summer, too. So, you took over Doc Baker’s practice for a bit. Good for you. Doc Baker needs a break. Can’t remember the last time he took a vacation. I bet Greta is enjoying those girls of yours.”
Jenny watched as Clay tried to take in all of Becky Lee’s prattle. Full speed, Becky Lee rarely gave anyone a chance to answer. Clay had obviously forgotten that. He had actually opened his mouth to try and answer Becky Lee, but of course had no luck.
He flashed Jenny a grin. To her credit, she didn’t react to his infectious grin. She didn’t want to smile at him. Didn’t want to be here, having coffee. Didn’t want him to work at Doc Baker’s. She didn’t want him here in Comfort Crossing. She wasn’t sure she even wanted him to be on the same planet.
Becky Lee continued right on. “Jenny, girl, you haven’t been by in over a week.”
“I know, I’m sorry. Been busy getting ready for the start of the new school year.”
“So what do you kids want to order?”
“Couple of coffees.” Clay looked at Jenny. “Black?”
Becky Lee shot Jenny a questioning look. They’d been friends since grade school. Then Becky Lee had gone on to the public high school, while Jenny had been sent to the prestigious, private LeBlanc High School. But they had remained friends their whole lives.
Becky Lee, along with their friend Izzy Amaud, knew all about Clay, all about the past. Becky Lee and Izzy had kept her secret. They’d been there for her every step of the way. Becky Lee must think Jenny was certifiably nuts to be sitting here with the man who had caused her so much pain.
“Yes, black.” Jenny nodded, hoping her cell phone would ring and she could make up an excuse to run. Or a hurricane would hit, or the roof fall in, or just anything in the world to get her out of there.
But Becky Lee didn’t rescue her, she just shot her friend a quizzical look and left to retrieve the coffee. Some friend she was. Jenny fiddled with the saltshaker. The afternoon sun streamed in the window, shining on Clay, illuminating his watch and throwing arcs of reflections across the wall. She looked closely at the watch. It couldn’t be? Could it? The watch she had given him for high school graduation? She stared at it.
Jenny was too shocked to say anything. The watch. After all these years. Why had he kept it? She couldn’t believe the darn thing was still working.
“Mom told me about Joey. I’m sorry. You doing okay?”
Jenny pulled her glance away from the watch and blinked at the sudden reference to her late husband. She’d almost forgotten Clay was the only one to ever get away with calling Joseph Joey. “I’m dealing with it.”
“Your son? He’s doing okay?” Clay continued.
“Nathan? He’s doing as well as can be expected. He misses Joseph.”
“Mom said Joey found out he had cancer, then was gone in a few months. Must have been hard on you.”
The man had no idea how hard it had been. Her whole safe world had turned upside down. Nathan had taken it hard, acting out and getting into trouble. It was a good thing the sheriff had been friends with Joseph, he had brought Nathan home numerous times. Drinking. Fighting. He said that next time he’d have to take him in for underage drinking. She thanked him, but wondered if being sent off to jail for a night might knock some sense into Nathan. She sighed. It was hard on all of them.
But instead of explaining, she just said, “It’s been difficult. Joseph’s parents are taking it hard, too. At least they still have Nathan. They have always doted on him, but he seems to give them great comfort, now.” She couldn’t believe she was sitting here having this conversation with Clay.
Clay picked up the napkin bundled silverware and slowly unrolled it. He fiddled with the knife. “I should drop by and see them. Pay my respects.”
“I’m sure they’d love to see you.”
“I should have gone to see them before this. On one of my trips in town. But… ”
“I know. It was awkward.”
“Awkward?” Clay’s voice lowered. His eyes took on that hardened steel blue quality that could make a grown man take a step back. “I never thought you’d marry my best friend.”
She braced herself against the blast of controlled anger emanating from Clay. What right did he have to judge her life? “You made it pretty clear you didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Didn’t take you long to start up a life with him, now, did it? You two had a son within a year. You moved on.” His hands gripped the silverware he had unrolled.
Seventeen years of anger, resentment, and hurt rolled between them, threatening to suck them both down into its vortex. Jenny had had enough. She slowly slid to the end of the booth, the bare skin behind her knees sticking slightly to the vinyl seat. It took all her self-control to keep her voice down.
“You, Clay Miller, were the one who broke it off. You didn’t want anything to do with me. You went off to college. You wanted to be free. Don’t you dare say a word about what I did with my life after you dumped me.”
“Jenns… I—”
She dug into her purse and dropped a few bills on the table for her yet to be delivered coffee. “I think it would be best if you just keep away from me. I’m glad you can help Doc Baker so he can take a vacation. He deserves it. But stay away from me. Keep your opinions about what I’ve done with my life to yourself. And don’t you ever, ever, question my decision to marry Joseph. You lost that right the day you tossed me out of your life. The day you said you needed your freedom.”
She left the cafe without saying what she really wanted to say to him. Yell at him. In the most childish immature manner. This is all your fault, Clay Miller.
* * *
Clay raked his hand through his hair. He’d mucked that one up, for sure. He watched Jenny stalk out the door, shoulders set, head high. He’d always admired the way she moved. Proud. Sure of herself. Her slight high school build had rounded. Her hair no longer hung loose on her shoulders like she had worn it in high school, but she had it pulled efficiently back in some kind of fancy braid thing. Darn, she looked good.
It had been a punch to his gut when he’d walked into the cafe today and had seen Jenny standing by the jukebox. Like the last seventeen years had just disappeared, and they were back in time when the world consisted of Jenny and Clay. Their future bright, their love declared proudly.
He smiled to himself. He hadn’t believed her for one half-second when she’d flippantly replied she didn’t remember their song. She remembered. He could see it in the depths of her honey-brown eyes. Remembrance mixed with pain. The questions. Still. Seventeen years later. The ones he’d been avoiding all this time.
He watched her cross the street and slide into a gleaming red sports car. That’s his Jenny Delacroix, always loved a fast car. His Jenny? What was he talking about? She hadn’t been his for years. Not since she had come up to visit him, the second weekend of college, and he’d broken up with her. Besides, she wasn’t even Jenny Delacroix anymore. She was Jenny Bouchard. His best friend’s wife—no—widow. Ex-best friend, if that mattered anymore, since Joey was dead and they’d never be able to make their peace.
After all this time, his Jenny had never found out the truth. Clay pulled himself from his thoughts. Choices he had made. He couldn’t change the past now.
Becky Lee came over with the coffee. “I see you managed to tick her off in less than five minutes.”
Clay nodded his head. “Said something stupid. I should have kept my mouth shut.”
“You’re always doing something stupid when it comes to Jenny.” Becky Lee never did pull any punches.
“Yep, isn’t that the truth.”
“She’s had a rough year. She’s struggling to regain her footing after Joseph’s death. If you’re going to mess with her mind again… well, just don’t.” She set down the coffee cups and nailed him with a no-nonsense look. “You broke Jenny’s heart when you dumped her as soon as you were safe at Tulane med school with a full ride from your impressive test scores. Married that Claire woman right away.”
He didn’t bother to correct her, that he’d married Claire after he found out Jenny had married Joey. Clay admired the way Becky Lee defended her friend. Becky Lee, Jenny, and Bella— Isabella, who Becky Lee and Jenny called Izzy—had always been each other’s biggest fans. If only they knew the real reason he had broken up with Jenny, but there was no reason for the truth to come out now. “I know, Bec. She already warned me to stay away. I’m thinking that really is the best thing.”
“Don’t you go breaking her heart again, Clay Miller. She’s come too far. She has enough on her hands with that son of hers.”
“What’s wrong with her son?” His mom hadn’t told him anything was wrong with Jenny’s son.
“Nothing’s wrong with him. He’s just an angry boy who lost his father. He’s acting up in school, getting into minor problems with the cops. He’s hurting and dealing with it in his own way. Jenny’s afraid he’s going to cross the line though, before he gets things all sorted out in his mind.” Becky Lee refilled his coffee. “So, you just stay clear of her, Clay. I guess you’ll head back home soon, anyway.” She looked at him expectantly.
“Labor Day weekend. The girls’ school starts later than the schools do here. Day after Labor Day.”
“Good. You should be able to avoid each other for a few weeks.” Becky walked away from the table.
Clay watched Becky Lee cross over to another table and cheerfully banter with the customers as she took their order. He wondered at life’s twists. Here he was, having the same problem with his eldest daughter, Danielle, that Jenny was having with her son. Problems in school. Minor trouble with the cops. One of the reasons he had decided to come back to Comfort Crossing, Mississippi, for a few weeks. Danielle needed to get away from the crowd of kids she hung out with. He had to get her away from the kids who were dragging her into all kinds of messes.
Clay gulped down the coffee and tossed out a goodbye to Becky Lee. He had to stop by the clinic for a while. He was waiting for some test results on Mrs. Brown and he wanted to see who was on the schedule for tomorrow. Then he’d better go rescue Greta from her granddaughters. Lord knows, they could sure be a handful. But then, Greta always seemed to be able to deal with anything thrown her way and come out on top. Heck, at this point, she could probably handle the girls better than he could.
Becky Lee stopped him at the door, just as he grabbed the worn steel door handle and tried to make his escape into the sunshine and away from the memories.
“Clay?” Becky Lee snagged his elbow. Her eyes flashed with determination. “I mean it. Just leave Jenny alone.”
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