Sherryl Woods - Where Azaleas Bloom

“Of course,” he said dryly, knowing perfectly well that those two couldn’t seem to keep their hands to themselves.

She gave him a sly look. “You’d be a great catch for some woman, you know.”

“Don’t go getting any ideas about matchmaking, you hear? Enough of that goes on in this town. Grace Wharton has made my social life her personal mission. I can’t walk in the door at Wharton’s without her dragging one woman or another over to meet me.”

“And not a one of them has interested you?”

“Not so far,” he declared. “Can’t see that changing, either.” Unable to keep a nostalgic note from his voice, he added, “Once a man has a woman like Amy in his life, he’s not likely to get that lucky again.”

Clearly undeterred, Raylene said, “Well, I’m just saying you’re a good-looking man. You have a few other appealing traits I’ve noticed, as well.” Grinning impudently, she gave him a thoroughly disconcerting once-over.

Mitch felt his cheeks heat at the compliment and the blatant survey. He’d been happily married every one of the twenty-two years he’d had with Amy. Before they’d met, he’d had quite a roving eye, but he could honestly say that once he’d said I do, that had been it for him. She’d been his whole world.

At forty-three now, he knew there was every chance some woman would eventually come along, but right now he wasn’t interested. The way he saw it, people grieved in their own ways, and his had been to bury himself in work even more so than he always had.

Raylene regarded him with amusement. “Okay, if I promise to stop bugging you about dating, will you stay for dinner? The girls asked for lasagna today. There’s plenty.”

Tempted as he was, Mitch asked worriedly, “What does Carter think about having me at his dinner table just about every night?”

“He thinks it means you’ll finish this addition that much faster,” she said. “Please, stay. You’re part of the family now. And you know perfectly well that I love cooking for a crowd.”

“And you know that I can’t say no to your lasagna,” he said, giving in a little too easily. “Thanks, Raylene.”

When they eventually sat down at the large dining room table, he noticed that he wasn’t the only guest. Lexie Morrow from next door seemed to be almost as much of a fixture at the table as he was. Tonight she, her brother and her mother were there.

Mitch couldn’t help taking a frank survey of Lynn. Her complexion was even paler than usual, and there was no mistaking the worry in her eyes. He’d known her practically since grade school, had a brief, though intense, unrequited crush on her in seventh grade, but it had been all about Ed for her, even back then. Over the years they’d both moved on, and rarely saw each other except in passing.

“Everything okay, Lynn?” he asked quietly, leaning in close so the others at the table wouldn’t overhear.

She smiled, but it looked forced to him. He remembered how her carefree laughter had once reminded him of the joyous sound of church bells pealing. He hadn’t heard that sound in a long time. Looked to him as if she didn’t have much to laugh about these days, not with the divorce he’d heard about still pending.

“Everything’s fine,” she said, but despite her effort, the lie didn’t sound convincing.

Mitch glanced around the table and noted that both Lexie and Jeremy were eating as if they hadn’t had a meal in days. Thinking again about the toll divorce could take, he wondered just how tough times were for Lynn. He’d heard plenty of rumors about her husband taking off every few weeks on various trips and wondered if that was having an impact on Lynn’s finances. Just the thought of the man gallivanting around while his family suffered was enough to twist Mitch’s stomach into knots. He told himself he’d have felt the same way even if he didn’t have a few fond memories of the woman.

Then, again, maybe just because of those memories, he was seeing trouble where there was none. Wouldn’t be the first time his imagination had run wild. He seemed to be the kind of man who was always looking for someone to help.

After dinner he lingered until the Morrows were ready to head home, then walked out with them. It was pitch-dark outside and there was no light burning at home.

“Why don’t I walk up the path with you?” he suggested. “It’s pretty dark out here.”

“Oh, I just forgot to leave on the outside light,” Lynn said, but the embarrassed nervousness in her voice suggested otherwise. “I think it’s burned out anyway.”

“Let me check it for you,” Mitch offered.

“That’s okay. I know I’m out of spare bulbs. They’re on the shopping list, but I keep forgetting them.”

He heard the claim for what it was, another face-saving lie.

“No problem. I always have extras in the truck.” He walked over and grabbed one out of the back before she could object, then crossed the yard. “If you’re going to be out at night, you’ll need this,” he said as he quickly removed the old bulb and screwed in the replacement. “Even in Serenity, it’s important to take safety precautions.”

“I know,” Lynn said. Then, as if it were costing her considerable pride, she managed to mutter, “Thanks.”

“Not a problem. If you ever need anything done around here, let me know. For the next couple of months or so, I’ll be at Raylene’s every day. I’d be happy to help out. No charge, of course. Just a neighborly gesture between old friends.”

Lynn gave him a wan smile. “I appreciate that, but we’re managing okay.”

Mitch understood pride all too well. He merely nodded. “Well, the offer’s on the table, if anything comes up. Don’t hesitate, okay?”

“Thanks. Good night, Mitch.” She hesitated, then added, “I know I should have let you know when the accident happened, but I was real sorry to hear about Amy. Losing her must have been hard for you and your sons.”

He nodded. “She was a good woman. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss her. It’s been a year now, and I still walk in the house some nights and call out to her.” He shrugged. “They say that will pass.”

She touched his arm briefly. “They, whoever they are, say a lot of things, but I think it’s mostly because they don’t want to say that loss of any kind really sucks.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, “it really does. Good night, Lynn.”

The kids had gone inside right away and now she hurried after them. Mitch stood where he was, staring after her.

Something wasn’t right here. Anyone could see that. But he understood the need to reclaim independence after a blow. He also knew that it was a woman’s natural tendency to protect her kids at all costs. If Lynn needed help badly enough for their sake, she’d turn to anyone who offered a helping hand. And if she ever asked, he’d be right there. Somebody needed to fix the unmistakable sorrow and fear that never seemed to leave her eyes.

And he, more than he’d realized, needed a project. Maybe, he thought, they might actually need each other.

* * *

“Raylene’s lasagna is the best,” Jeremy murmured sleepily when Lynn went to check on him before bed. “How come you don’t cook like that anymore?”

“There’s not enough time in the day,” Lynn told him.

“But Raylene works, too, and she does it,” he persisted.

She knew her ten-year-old couldn’t possibly understand how uncomfortable this entire conversation was making her, but it was hard to resist the desire to snap. “Tell me what you miss most and I’ll make it for you soon,” she promised.

“Steak and baked potatoes,” he said at once. “That was Dad’s favorite, too.”

And way beyond their current budget, Lynn thought wearily. Somehow, though, she would make it happen.