the Hendersons going back into the house and her brother starting on his long walk home.
She didn’t feel sorry for him, but it was hard not to feel a little sorry for herself. Somehow she had to get ready for a party tonight, convince her father and Rick to come, and find something else to wear. The sleeveless dress was out of the question now.
Chapter Two
“And how are you really feeling?”
Amy almost jumped at the sound of Paul’s voice behind her on the stairs. She had taken some time away from the party and the congratulations of Henderson aunts and uncles and found sanctuary in the stairwell. Paul lowered himself to the stair beside her and she scooted over to give him room.
“Where were you?” she asked, avoiding his question and his probing gaze.
“Checking out my old bedroom.” He smiled at her and, reaching over, touched her shoulder again. “This afternoon that horse kicked you, didn’t he?”
Amy shrugged, then winced. She knew from past experience she could never fool Paul.
“Yes, I don’t know how it happened, but Sandover’s hoof grazed my shoulder. It feels a little better now.” Amy pulled a face. “But not much,” she conceded. She turned to Paul who leaned his head against the wall beside him. His even features looked relaxed, his shapely mouth curved into a gentle smile. She remembered countless times she had lost herself in daydreams over his face, creating the eternal cliché. Young girl in love with older neighbor boy. But Paul always humored her, and in return to her love letters, would write his own back—joking letters full of his terrible puns, reassuring her that someday her prince would come. In his way he gently broke it to her that the prince wouldn’t be him. He didn’t intend on staying around Williams Lake long enough to fill that role for her.
“What are you smiling about?” he prodded.
“Remembering old daydreams,” she said turning her engagement ring on her finger. Her love for Tim gave her the confidence and ability to look at Paul with new eyes. Her reaction to him this afternoon was more about the surprise of seeing him than anything else, she had concluded.
“And what conclusion have you come to?”
“That you were right,” she said. “You weren’t the right person for me. And I wasn’t the right person for you. I see that in each and every girlfriend you bring home.”
“And what do you think of this one?”
“Hard to say. I haven’t had a chance to really talk to her yet.”
“And I haven’t met your Tim.” He smiled back at her. “So what’s he like? Does he floss? Work out? Watch his cholesterol level? Tell me how you met.”
And Amy did. She had been arguing with her accounts manager when Tim Enders walked in. In a matter of minutes he had soothed the ruffled feathers and managed to put together a deal that worked for everyone. And then he had asked her out for dinner.
“One date led to another and pretty soon we were horseback riding, going for drives, fishing and, most important of all,” she added with a conspiratorial grin, “sitting together in church. And that pretty much sealed the engagement. It wasn’t official until the day we were up in the mountains for a hike.” Amy fell silent remembering the burst of sheer joy when he asked her, the feeling of belonging to somebody who wanted to share his life with her overwhelming her.
“He’s a lucky guy.”
“And I’m very blessed.” Amy nodded, looking down at her engagement ring once again. “I want to be a good and faithful wife to him.”
Silence hung between them punctuated by the sounds of laughter coming from the living room below as both realized the import of her words.
“I know you will be, Amy. You are a person whose love is faithful and pure.”
“Thanks.” The compliment warmed her, creating a mood that seemed to settle their relationship onto a new and more comfortable plane. “And you’re a good friend.”
“One that hasn’t been around much lately,” he said with a rueful look.
“Well you’re here now, and I’m glad you came. And now I’d like to find out how Stacy managed to snag a guy half the girls in the Cariboo were yearning after.”
Paul laughed. “C’mon.”
“If I take away the ones that were panting after Mark Andrews before he got married and ignore the ones who are engaged,” Amy pursed her lips thoughtfully, “maybe not quite half.”
Paul just shook his head.
“So,” Amy continued, “is she the one?”
“I think so,” Paul traced the crease of his pants, his look thoughtful.
Amy bit her lip, knowing her next question trod on shaky ground. “Which church does she go to?”
“None. But neither do I, so that’s no problem.”
Amy turned away, suddenly disappointed in her old hero. “That’s too bad, Paul.”
“You sound like my parents,” he replied testily.
“I was hoping I sounded more like your sister.”
“I thought you didn’t like being called that.”
Amy shook her head. “You’re five years older than me. I’ll always be younger. I’m hoping I will always be like a sister to you.”
“You’ll always be a sassy little redhead, that’s what,” Paul said, his smirk skipping over the serious tone of their previous conversation, creating an easy return to the give and take of their youth.
Amy glanced sidelong at him, her smile acknowledging the change in the tone of the conversation. Paul hadn’t changed, but as she analyzed her new feelings for him, she realized with thankfulness that she had grown up.
“There you are.” Stacy stood below them, smiling uncertainly up at both of them.
Paul got up and walked down to join her. “Just catching up with an old friend,” he said easily, brushing a kiss across her soft cheek. “You never did get a proper introduction to Amy did you?” He looked up at Amy, who still sat on the stairs, a soft smile curving up delicate lips tinted with gloss. Her gleaming copper hair flowed over her shoulders, curling up at the bottom. Warm gray eyes fringed with dark lashes looked down at him with humor in them.
The tomboy he had always remembered looked feminine and incredibly appealing. To be sure, she still wore jeans and a shirt, but the jeans were black, the linen shirt was decorated with embroidery on the sleeves. It was a look that suited her as much as Stacy’s soft flowing dress became her. He glanced at his girlfriend. He couldn’t help but compare the two women. Stacy always looked elegant, composed, everything coordinated. But the Amy in front of him looked nothing like the dusty, bedraggled girl of this afternoon. He remembered again how easily she handled a horse that he would have walked a wide circle around.
“So are you going to introduce us or do I have to do it myself?” Amy asked, tilting her head to one side as she came down the stairs.
“Sorry.” Paul mentally shook himself and drew Stacy closer. “Stacy Trottier, this is Amy Danyluk, neighbor, friend and the little sister I never had.” He turned to Stacy who shifted her cup of coffee to one hand and reached out one well-manicured hand as he spoke.
“So what kind of work do you do in Vancouver?” Amy asked, shaking Stacy’s hand.
“I work with computers.” Stacy pulled her hand back.
“That’s a pretty broad field.” Amy laughed. “What kind of work?”
Stacy took a sip of her coffee looking at Amy over the rim of her cup. “I set up Web-sites and program computers.”
“How