vision. He knew, because he counted, while trying to ignore the pull of her vanilla-cinnamon perfume and blue eyes.
“’Spect I should let you go.” With a tip of his hat, he left, before things became any more awkward. It felt like high school all over again, only harder, because now a canyon of confusion and misunderstanding stretched between them.
Two hours later, he arrived at the theater a few minutes before rehearsal to go over the night’s menu with the chef. They had two requests for gluten free and one for no dairy. Fresh asparagus lay on the counter, washed and ready to be cooked, and a quick glance into the walk-in verified steaks were marinating.
“Looking good.” He smiled at his kitchen staff and shot Dillon a thumbs-up. Then he migrated to the dining area to wait on his cast, who should be arriving soon for the preshow rehearsal.
He made a visual sweep of the theater’s interior, imagining how it would look after the renovations. Wild West Murder Mystery. The notion might seem absurd, but sometimes it took the unexpected to make things work. He smiled at Paige’s old phrase, remembering the fun, giggling girl she used to be. Before life had stolen the joy from those sweet blue eyes. From what he’d heard, that ex-husband had really hurt her something awful. Lying, manipulation... Before abandoning her and her sweet little one.
What kind of father could just up and walk away from his baby girl?
Then again, wasn’t that what Paige’s dad had done years ago?
No wonder she acted so guarded around him.
What would it take for her to learn to trust again? he wondered.
Back in high school, when she’d first started pulling away, he’d thought she was done with him. That he’d annoyed her something fierce. He knew now she’d been hurting. And when Paige hurt, she withdrew. Pushed people away.
Kind of like she was doing now. He didn’t know how to deal with her any more today than he had back then. But he desperately needed her help. So he better start learning. Fast.
On Sunday morning, Paige awoke to Ava singing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” She was lying on her back on the guest bed with her arms stretched toward the ceiling, and her pudgy little hands opening and closing.
“Aren’t you the cheerful little one?” Paige scooped her up and kissed her neck, triggering a series of squeals and giggles.
“You hungry?” She checked the time on her alarm clock. It was past eight o’clock—later than she normally got up. Or had intended to, thanks to a restless night spent fretting over Jed, the last person she needed to be thinking about.
“Ice cweam?” Ava’s eyes held a mischievous glint, adding at least two years to her chubby-cheeked expression.
“Ice cream?” Paige asked. Ava scooted toward the edge of the bed, but Paige pulled her back by her ankle and started tickling her once again.
“Yeah!” She spoke in between her laughter.
“For breakfast?”
“Yeah. Ice cweam. Ice cweam. Ice cweam.” Ava smacked the bed with each statement, and her eyes were practically swallowed by her smile.
A knock sounded. “You up, sweetie?” The door creaked open, and Mom poked her head in.
“I am now. Isn’t that right, Ava-girl?”
Her daughter bobbed her head, and her auburn curls danced against her forehead.
Paige leaned back against the headboard. “Everything okay?”
Mom stepped inside, wearing a long pink dress that hit her midshin and a shimmery cardigan. Ava’s eyes lit up. She scrambled toward her grandmother’s outstretched arms.
“There’s my little princess.” Mom peppered Ava’s face with kisses, initiating more laughter.
Mom tugged Ava’s pajama top, which was riding up, over her round belly. “Figured we’d go to church together this morning.”
Paige rubbed her eyes. Church? She hadn’t been in years, and not once with Mom. “I don’t want to be rude, but... I didn’t think you were into religion.”
“Don’t sound so enthused.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. I’m just...surprised.”
“I go on occasion, and today seems as good as any, especially considering I actually slept some last night. Soon as my head quit feeling like it wanted to explode.” She tugged on one of Ava’s curls, then released it. “Figured you’d be happy with how you keep bugging to get me out of the house. Besides, thought you’d want to go. You always did as a kid.”
When she’d accompanied Mrs. Tappen, Mom had always stayed home, sipping coffee and watching talk shows. Or rather, staring mindlessly at the television while some talk show host’s voice dominated the otherwise silent living room.
“When’s the service?”
“Nine.”
That meant she had forty-five minutes to feed and dress Ava, gulp down some caffeine, tame her frizzy hair and get out the door. Not much time. Certainly not enough to send out her résumé like she’d planned.
Two cups of coffee and a shower later, she emerged from her room with damp but de-frizzed curls, and she was dressed in white capris and a flowing purple blouse. Wearing pink shorts and a matching top that was trimmed with lace, Ava looked as adorable as ever.
She was the one bright spot from Paige’s failed marriage, the one good thing her ex-husband Jarred had given her.
“You ready?” Mom asked.
“Yep. I’ll drive.”
“Actually, we’re—” Mom snapped her fingers “—hold on. I need to grab something to keep my blood sugar up.” She dashed into the kitchen.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Who would be visiting so early on a Sunday? She found Mrs. Tappen standing on the stoop, wearing a floral dress and a pale blue bonnet. Her long silver braid was draped over her shoulder.
“Oh, good.” She swept Paige into a tight hug. “I’d hoped you’d join us. And look at you!” She caressed Ava’s cheek with the back of her hand. “As darling as a rosebud.”
“Good morning, Judith.” Mom approached them, carrying two bananas and a partially eaten bag of saltines.
“That it is.” Mrs. Tappen patted Paige’s cheek. She hiked her purse higher on her shoulder, turned toward the walk and cast Mom a backward glance. “You sleep well?”
“As well as can be expected.” Traipsing after Mrs. Tappen, she talked about insomnia, backaches and everything else that hindered a good night’s sleep.
Paige locked up and then followed the two chatty ladies with a smile. Psychosomatic or not, it was nice to see Mom so animated, so engaged. It’d be good to spend the morning with Mrs. Tappen, too.
Maybe her time in Sage Creek wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
She rounded the corner to the driveway, but then stopped.
Oh, no. She should’ve known.
There sat Jed’s truck in Mom’s driveway with him behind the wheel dressed in a plaid, short-sleeved shirt. Clean-shaven, he grinned like a kid on the first day of summer vacation.
The image triggered memories of all of the times he’d pulled up in a pickup similar to this but not quite so fancy, waiting to take her to the movies or out for ice cream. Sometimes just for a long drive into the country.
He jumped out as the ladies drew near, tipping his hat first at Mom and then