Kara Lennox: A Second Chance

The front door opened, and Loretta gave Zara a quick hug and a kiss before turning to greet her customer.

It was Luc, in faded jeans and a T-shirt advertising the music festival. He’d been one of the first in line to buy one, she recalled, and was selling them at the B and B. He was still tanned from putting on a new roof this past summer, his shaggy blond hair streaked with pale gold from the sun.

“Luc!” Zara jumped out of her chair, almost upsetting her milk, then halted as if she weren’t quite sure what she wanted to do. Zara’s reaction to Luc had been strange almost from the moment she’d laid eyes on him. At first, Loretta figured it was the fact he was blond. There weren’t many fair-haired men in these parts. Zara had stared endlessly at him, despite Loretta’s asking her not to because it was rude. But then she’d started talking like a magpie to him every chance she got. The only other adults Zara was that open with were her grandparents, and even they lavished so much loving attention on her that they embarrassed her into silence sometimes.

“Hi, gorgeous. Hey, what happened to you? You look like you just got out of the ring after doing a couple of rounds with George Foreman.”

“His name wasn’t George, it was Thomas,” Zara corrected him. Loretta’s advice not to correct adults hadn’t sunk in with her daughter.

“You mean you really were in a fight?” Luc sounded impressed. “I hope the other guy looks worse.”

“Luc, don’t encourage her,” Loretta protested.

“Thomas doesn’t have a scratch,” Zara said.

“I used to do a little boxing,” Luc said, addressing his comments to Loretta. “If Zara needs to learn how to defend herself-”

“I could have punched him,” Zara insisted. “But by then Mrs. Brainard was looking and I didn’t want to get in trouble.”

“All right, that’s enough talk about fighting,” Loretta said firmly. “Luc, what can I help you with?” Coffee cake, tea bread or me?

“The question is, what can I help you with?” He had a mischievous gleam in his eye.

Loretta stifled a gasp. “You talked to Melanie?”

“I’ll tell you all about it if you’ll give me a sample of whatever it is I smell cooking.”

“It’s pumpkin bread. A new recipe.” She went to the cooling rack and selected a small loaf, still warm from the oven, and brought it to the cutting board. “Talk, or you’re not getting a single bite.”

“Melanie said she’ll do it.”

Loretta’s knife clattered to the cutting board. Operating on pure instinct, she launched herself at Luc, throwing her arms around his neck. “Oh, you wonderful man!”

Luc put his arms around her. “Wow, any more favors I can do for you? I like the way you say thank-you.”

Oh, this felt good. Way too good. Luc was tall and hard and warm and all-male, and he smelled so…so not like everything else in her world of baking and laundry and little girls with their own special scents.

She let the moment stretch as long as she dared, then gave a nervous laugh as she extracted herself from Luc’s embrace. “Sorry,” she said, straightening her shirt. But it had been so long since she’d let herself get anywhere close to a man other than her father. “I’m just so excited. You’ve saved my skin. How did you do it? How did you convince her? What’s the next step?”

“Mama, calm down,” Zara said, giggling herself. “You act like Luc just handed you a million dollars or something.”

Loretta hated it when Zara behaved more like the adult. “All right, then, one question at a time. What did you say to Melanie to get her to agree?”

Luc nodded toward the cutting board.

“Right.” Loretta quickly cut two thick slices of the pumpkin bread and slathered them with whipped butter. She pulled out the chair opposite Zara and placed the plate of bread on the table. Luc sat, took a bite and sighed appreciatively. “Oh, man. Put some of this in my next delivery.” He closed his eyes, savoring the treat, and made Loretta think of a different kind of sensual pleasure.

“I told her the hotel could have some type of sponsorship. I’ve already talked to Marjo and she’s amenable. She’s putting the Hotel Marchand logo on the banners and the program. But I also appealed to Melanie’s pride, about how she’d be helping out a worthy cause and preserving her father’s Cajun culture. She’s actually excited about it. She wants to meet with us this week sometime to plan the menu and go over logistics.”

“Us?”

“That was part of the deal. I promised Melanie I’d help. Anyway, since your entire committee self-destructed, you need another pair of hands.”

She could think of all kinds of ways to put those hands to good use, and immediately felt her face heat. Why was she doing this? Why was she so intensely attracted to Luc Carter?

“When do you want to meet with her?” Loretta asked, busying herself by wrapping up the partial loaf in plastic. “Is tomorrow too soon? It’ll have to be early so I can be home in time to meet Zara’s bus.”

“I can’t tomorrow,” Luc said. “I have a meeting in New Iberia. Wednesday’s good, though.”

“I can’t on Wednesday,” Loretta countered. “Back-to-back deliveries, then a doctor’s appointment. Thursday?”

“I’ve got a big party arriving on Thursday.”

“Well, shoot. I don’t suppose you could rearrange Tuesday?”

“No.” He didn’t elaborate, and he didn’t meet her gaze, either. Then she remembered Justine Clemente, the town busybody, remarking on the fact that Luc drove out of town every other Tuesday at 10:00 a.m. He’d been doing it like clockwork since he moved to Indigo.

Loretta’s immediate suspicion was that he had a girlfriend. But if she were dating someone like Luc, she’d darn sure see him more often than every other week. Unless the woman was married…

Luc had always been a bit mysterious about his past and his personal life. Other than vague references to the fact he had hotel experience, what did she really know about him? Yes, he was Celeste Robichaux’s grandson, but did that automatically make him a sterling citizen?

Well, whatever he did every other Tuesday was none of her business, and she decided not to think about it. “How about Wednesday afternoon? I can juggle the deliveries and change the doctor’s appointment. My parents can keep Zara for a few hours.”

“I’ll see if Melanie can do it then.” Luc’s sunny smile returned. He polished off the pumpkin bread and the glass of milk Loretta poured for him, and all seemed right with the world again. But Loretta was determined not to forget that strange, evasive look that had come over his face.

Her husband had been a man with a mysterious past, and at first that had been part of his appeal. He’d kept so many secrets from her, all the while charming her with his flattery and his monumental plans for the two of them. When he did occasionally reveal something of himself, she felt positively blessed. And whenever she sensed his inner torture, she loved him all the more.

But the darkness inside him had been his undoing, as well as her and Zara’s, for he could never be truly satisfied, not with a loving wife and beautiful daughter, not with the sweet little house her grandmother had left her, not with a decent job. He’d wanted more-more money, more control, more freedom. Uncomplicated small-town life could never have satisfied him for long.

She’d been in the process of divorcing him when he’d died, and she’d sworn that if she ever hooked up with another man-and that was a huge “if”-it would be a simple man with simple needs, someone without secrets.

Most important, any man she associated with had to be honest, forthright and without a criminal cell in his body. She was already terrified of what Jim’s DNA had contributed to Zara. No way was her little girl going to be exposed to anyone who wasn’t open and honest.