So what if she never knew why Michael had ignored her mother’s death?
She didn’t really need to know. Like before, he’d said everything with his silence.
Chapter Twenty-Two – A Lonely Future
by Laura Breck
Mitch stood with one foot on the ground and one on the bottom step, hanging on to Major’s collar. The disloyal dog wanted to go after Candy. Hell, he wanted to go after her, but something held him dangling between advance and retreat.
No one knew his inner pain. Other than the therapist he saw ten years ago, no one understood why he’d run away to Georgia.
Candy disappeared around a bend in the path. Gone. He looked down at Major, who stared at him with censure in his gaze. “In the house, boy.” Major walked inside, his head held low.
Mitch stared down the path. He wasn’t ready to spill his weaknesses all over the kitchen table for Candy to see. For Candy to judge. The way his father had judged ten years ago.
The fear that Candy would respond the same way held him back. It wasn’t the girl he’d known years ago, or the woman he’d gotten to know the last few days. It was the Candy he’d met at the gas station that made him leery. The hard-driving, demanding city girl who’d looked him up and down and jumped to categorize him.
It was too late, anyway. She was gone now, or would be as soon as…
“Shit.” He tugged his phone out of his pocket and dialed Jeb.
His neighbor answered on the second ring. “Brother, what's happening over in Romanceville?”
“Candy left me. She’s on her way to your place.”
Silence. “She’s dumping you for me?” His voice held a chuckle.
“She wants to get away from me. Do you have time to drive her to Atlanta?”
“You’re serious.” Jeb huffed out a long sigh. “All I’ve got is time. But I’d rather hand you my truck keys and let you drive her.”
If Mitch couldn’t talk to her in his own home, there was no way he’d be able to break loose in Jeb’s truck. “Just make sure you get her there safe, okay?”
“Yeah, she’ll be safe.” He paused. “When I get back, if you need a drink…”
“Thanks. I owe you one.” He clicked the off button. No amount of alcohol would wash away this mess. His lungs wouldn’t fill. As if something inside him was missing.
A rare nocturnal cardinal landed on a bare tree branch where Mitch had hung a feeder full of sunflower seeds. The yard light spotlighted the bright spot of color against the dull landscape. Kind of like Candy… No. Not going to make up metaphors about her.
He turned and walked into the house, the smell of the simmering stew hitting him in the stomach. It wasn’t hunger. It tasted like guilt. He covered the pot and turned off the stove.
In his stocking feet, he padded into the bedroom and found Major lying with his head on Candy's sweater. “That’s not yours. Off,” he chided, and the dog raised his head.
Mitch picked up the piece of fluff and fought the urge to press it to his nostrils and suck in her scent. It probably smelled like dog anyway. Should he wash it and dry it before he shipped it back to her with the rest of her stuff?
No, this had to be expensive and dry-clean only. He knew of a half-dozen drycleaners, but all of them were in New York City. Different lives. Folding the sweater carefully, he shook his head. Different worlds.
He opened her suitcase. It sat on top of his dresser, serving as a reminder of the certainty that this relationship was over. He’d been counting on a few more days, though.
Setting her sweater in the suitcase, his fingers brushed a silky scrap of panty. He jerked his hand back. She’d been so soft, so passionate in his arms. Adventurous one hour and slowly seductive the next. The perfect lover.
Mitch rubbed the heels of his hands over his closed eyes, needing to erase those memories. He’d never hold her again. Never carry her to his bed and press himself along her satiny length. Never kiss her, or taste her sweetness.
Fisting his hands, he punched them toward the ceiling and dropped his head back, letting out an animal howl of pain. Major jumped onto the bed, barking and circling.
He picked up a pair of her jeans, rolled them into a ball, and threw it into the suitcase. “I’m so damned messed up…” Picking up her robe, he threw it into the suitcase. “I let her go…” He hurled her boots in on top of her clothes. “The most amazing woman…” Mitch picked up her bra, then dropped it.
He collapsed on the bed, and Major instantly lay next to him, his head on his chest, his canine eyes full of worry. Petting his best friend with soothing strokes, Mitch murmured, “The one I let get away.”
Chapter Twenty-Three – Goodbye to What Might Have Been
by Brenda Whiteside
“Truck should be warm by now.” Jeb stamped his boots, knocking off snow, as he stood just inside the door. “You ready to go, Candy?”
Candy turned from the window where she’d watched Mitch’s neighbor clear the snow from the windshield of his truck. “Yes, I’m ready.”
Jeb pulled a hooded sweatshirt from a hook by the front door. “Put this on.”
“Thanks.” She slipped the fleece around her and smiled at the elderly man. Following him to the truck, her footsteps were heavy, but less from the soggy ground than the sadness weighing her down.
“You sure you wouldn’t like to stop at Mitch’s and get your own coat…or anything else?” He put the truck in reverse and backed out onto the road. “Wouldn’t be any trouble since we’ll pass right by.”
“I’m sure.” Candy didn’t mean to sound as icy as the weather but any reference to Mitch—to Michael—chilled her soul.
She stared out the window into the growing dark, not wanting to watch for Mitch’s place, but drawn to where she’d left her heart. The golden glow from the windows flickered through the trees before the cabin came into view. Tears stung her eyes. She could smell the wood burning in the fireplace, feel his arms around her.
“Mitch might like to ride to the airport with us. Should we stop and ask?”
Candy shook her head and forced herself to look at the road. She shut her eyes, damming the threatening tears. He’d made a fool of her. He’d played her, gained her trust and love, only to smash her feelings without any explanation. She never wanted to see that manipulating, heartless man again.
“You and Mitch—”
“There is no me and Mitch.”
“No? Maybe—”
“His name isn’t Mitch. He’s not who you think he is.” Why the hell should she protect his identity?
“He’s Mitch. He might have another name, another life before this one, but to all of us in Elridge, he’s just Mitch.” Jeb gave her a serious, narrow-eyed glance before turning his attention back on the road.
“You don’t know the real man. His name is Michael Crawford—”
“The third.”
Candy stared at Jeb, dumbfounded. She closed her gaping mouth when Jeb snickered at her.
“I’m probably the only one around here who does know, but that’s Mitch’s business.”
“Why would he hide his identity?”
“I don’t think he’s hiding, exactly.”
“No? Then why are you the only one who knows?”
“Can’t say. We all have secrets, and our reasons are our own.” His voice was quiet, the slushy road sounds nearly blocking out his words.
“Why, Jeb? Why did he change his name and move here?”
“I said I knew his real name, where he came from. Don’t know much more. When and if Mitch ever decides to tell me, I’ll listen. But it really doesn’t matter. He’s one hell of a man, whatever he calls himself.”
“Oh, yeah, one hell of a man.”
They rode in silence for a few miles. The fact that Mitch had told Jeb who he was didn’t mitigate her anger. Michael, not Mitch. But they were one and the same. All those years ago, she’d loved Michael—a childish love but love nonetheless—and he’d hurt her. What she
felt for Mitch—the love, anger, hurt—was history repeating itself.
“The first winter Mitch was here, Jenny Martin lost her husband. Mitch went to her house every day, though he didn’t really know her.” He held up his hand when she opened her mouth. “Before you jump to conclusions, Jenny’s a grandma. But he was there, doing all the chores, helping her get the house ready to sell.” Jeb nodded at her as if he’d relayed the news of the week.
“What has that got to do with anything?”
“A man’s actions speak louder than words.”
Candy hugged the fleece around her. Mitch’s actions were loud and clear. He’d concealed the truth. That said it all.
“I was down with a broken leg a while back. Mitch was handy whenever I needed something done.”
“Fine, Jeb. I understand he’s a Good Samaritan.”
“There’s a lot more to the man.”
“Like what? How can you be sure if you don’t know why he’s here? Why he lives under an alias?”
“I could tell when he first moved here, he needed to set something right.”
“What do you mean?” Candy squinted to see his face in the dim light of the truck cab. If he knew something, anything that would absolve Mitch for his deceitful actions, she wanted to know. God, was she still harboring a sliver of hope?
“Sorry, Candy. I don’t know exactly what I mean. It’s just a feeling. But he’s a good man.”
She shook her head and turned away from him.
“When he was with you…happiest I’ve ever seen him.”
“You don’t understand, Jeb. You can’t know…” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
The good neighbor took the hint, and they rode in silence the remaining miles.
Candy dozed; pleasant dreams of Mitch’s kisses laced her slumber. She jerked awake when Jeb turned a sharp corner and pulled into a parking space at the Atlanta airport.
The engine noise died, and Jeb opened his door. “I’ll walk you in.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“My orders were to make sure you were delivered safely.”
“Your orders?”
His only response was a smile.
Tears came from nowhere. “Well, consider your task accomplished.” She swiped the tears away with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “Oh, jeez, sorry.” She dabbed at the wet spot with her hand. “Look, let’s just say goodbye here. There’s no need to walk me in. You’ve been so very kind and helpful. Can I pay you for the gas?”
“You most certainly cannot.”
“Then I’ll give you back your hoodie and—”
“No, no.” He shut his door and waved a hand in the air. “You keep it. You can return it when you come back.”
“Jeb, I’m not—”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
She leaned across the cab and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Goodbye, Jeb.”
“Until next time.”
There was no use arguing with him. She hopped out onto the asphalt of the cold parking garage, pulled the hoodie tighter, and walked to the elevator. As the doors closed, she waved goodbye to Jeb. Goodbye to what might have been.
Chapter Twenty-Four – Men… Who Needs Them
by Barbara Edwards
Candy flipped open another file, but her gaze refused to settle on the page. Silence echoed through her open office door. Down the hall, a single strand of garland sparkled and twisted as air moved from the heat she’d turned up. Someone had left a holiday candle in one of the cubicles, and the scent of spiced apple drifted to her. She pulled her cashmere sweater close and ignored the fact that her favorite lay at the foot of Mitch’s bed. A shiver ran over her skin. Chilled by the slushy city streets, she needed warmth. Mitch’s steaming body came to mind, and she snarled aloud. Those long, slow hours making love were in the past.
Her hand slid across the wide desk, sending the file to the floor. Anger and pain combined in a dangerous cocktail. If he were here, she’d show him pain. Her fist slammed down, and she winced. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need a man, period.
Rising to her feet, Candy rubbed her arms as she paced to the wide windows. Nightfall lent sparkling beauty to the street below. She’d been so proud to occupy the corner office of her own business. Years of hard work and dedication had taken her to the top of the advertising industry. Her mother would have been proud of her accomplishments. She pressed her hand against the cold glass.
What was Mitch doing? Did he regret letting her go?
Why? Why? Why? The why pounded like hammer blows inside her skull, and a tear trickled down her cheek.
Rubbing it away, she straightened her shoulders. Mitch wouldn’t talk to her, wouldn’t explain. And she’d let him get away with that? It wasn’t like her. She spun away from the window.
Her mother’s smile glinted from a candid photo on her desk. The breath caught in her throat. Her mom had loved Michael. Her big heart had welcomed the lonely boy. Though he had only a single neighbor and a big sloppy dog, shedding love like loose hair, Mitch’s life now held more affection than it ever had in his youth. She rubbed away another tear.
Had she judged him too harshly? She’d blamed him for not talking to her, but had she asked the right questions? Pain closed around her heart and squeezed.
Her hand shook as she reached for the phone.
Chapter Twenty Five – One Call Changes Everything
by Laura Breck
Mitch’s phone rang once then silenced. Major opened one eye from his prime spot in front of the fireplace as Mitch picked up his cell. A New York area code. “Huh.” Probably another one of his father’s tricks to get him to answer the phone, dialing from a new number.
Or…
He checked the number again. It could be Candy. He could Google the number…
No. He’d been the one to let her go. If she wanted to contact him—decided she wanted her clothes or something—she would call. He wasn’t going to jump at every wrong number, hoping it was her. Replacing the phone on the table, he picked up his book and went back to reading.
After staring blankly at the paragraph for ten minutes, remembering the last afternoon he’d spent with Candy in his bed, he grabbed the phone. “Damn.” Accessing the last call, he got up and walked toward the back of the house.
In the office, he fired up the computer and plopped down in his ergonomic chair. Why couldn’t he get her out of his head?
He typed in the mystery number and came up with unlisted cell phone. On his phone, he saved the number, just in case whoever it was called again. While he sat at his computer, he checked e-mails, local weather, and sports scores.
Hell, who was he kidding? He only wanted to check one thing. Bringing up a search engine, he typed in Candice Wright.
A lot of results popped up, but none were the Candy he knew. He tried Candice Wright New York. There she was. A screen full of articles on her and her advertising agency, The Wright Way, followed by six more pages. He read a few of them, but they only discussed her business acumen and successful rise to the top of New York’s advertising world. He wanted more, wanted to understand what made Candice Wright Candy.
On page three, a few articles talked about her philanthropic projects. He searched again, adding philanthropy to the hunt. Four pages came up with pictures of Candy in formal gowns standing next to dignitaries and stars.
Her company provided advertising services to charities for kids, and she personally donated a lot of money to a number of causes dealing with children. Homelessness, domestic abuse, literacy. She’d never mentioned this side of her business when she’d been here. Of course, she barely spoke about her company.
He read her mission statement. Even though the objectives focused on the usual, customer service and employee integrity, the last line stood out. To share our talents and treasures in areas that will make a difference in a child’s life.
Mitch sat back and read the sentence again. Was it because of her
difficult childhood that she chose to include such a personal goal in her business model? Her way of helping kids in similar situations?
A cold, wet nose nudged his arm. He turned toward Major’s expectant face and wagging tail. “You want to go out?”
The dog whined and stepped back, his tail double-timing, his eyes wide. As Mitch stood, Major ran to the back door, then retraced the path until he opened it.
The night was clear and cool, the stars overhead shone in an inky sky. He and Candy had lain in his bed, looking out the window at the constellations. He’d gotten some wild notions that night. Wanted to keep her in his bed forever. Imagined them building a life together.
Major barked and Mitch whistled him back.
A chill rattled through his body. Could he have kept her? If he’d been able to talk about the demons of the past? Hell, those demons still took a run at him from time to time.
She’d had a lot of pain in her own life. Maybe she would have understood. Maybe he’d underestimated her. She might have been the perfect person to open up to. Instead, he’d shut her out.
He looked at the sky. So cold and lonely. It wasn’t right. This wasn’t what he wanted for his life. Candy. He’d let the best thing that had ever happened to him slip away without a fight. When had he become a coward?
Major ran toward the house, and Mitch opened the door for them to enter the warmth of the kitchen. He walked toward the table where he’d shared intimate meals with her.
He braced both hands on the table and let his head hang down. He’d made a mistake. He’d let her go when everything inside him told him she was the one. He’d lost…everything.
A voice in his mind shouted, No! His head came up as he straightened his backbone. He wouldn’t give up that easily. He could fix this. He could make it right.
Major stood at his bowl of kibble, eyeing Mitch, as if sensing something odd happening.
Mitch pulled his phone and dialed. “Jeb, can you watch Major for a few days?”
“It’s about time, dumbass.” The older man’s quiet laugh eased through the phone. “You book yourself on the next flight to New York, and I’ll drive you to the airport.”