Chapter 2
2
S am Harrington was a long way from Chicago. The multimillion-dollar condo, the cars, the who’s who client list. The wife. They were all gone, necessary choices required before he couldn’t recognize himself anymore. The wife—now the ex-wife—had been the most difficult and biggest surprise. He’d believed they shared common goals, values, a future. What he hadn’t understood back then was Celeste’s ability to persuade him that her values and her goals were his. You could become the veterinarian to the most elite group in the city , she’d gushed, stroking his arm, her smile bright. People will do anything for their animals, and my friends will do anything for the doctor who takes care of them. Season tickets to basketball games, football, and baseball. Theater tickets. I do adore the theater. Anything you want, darling, just name it and I’ll get it for you.
And then there were the trips. Napa Valley, the Hamptons, Laguna Beach . We’ve been invited to Tahoe for four days. Let’s go. It will be great fun to hang out with the rest of them.
It had been great fun. The first time. By the fourth, it had turned boring. He missed working in a real clinic where he could help animals: healthy, sick, injured. He missed the staff, the surgeries, having a purpose. A person can only drink so many scotches, attend so many events with back-stage-passes, eat so much caviar before it becomes tedious. Celeste loved it, and the more trips they took with her friends, the more celebrities they hung around, the happier she was. I love you, Sam. You are my whole heart, my soul, my very breath. You are my everything. Those words had mesmerized him, pulled him in, made him believe, especially when she eased her fingers around his neck, leaned on tiptoe and placed the gentlest kiss on his mouth.
Forever.
The chance of forever with Celeste had propelled him to leave the practice in Ohio, move to Chicago and start working for a friend of hers who owned an animal retreat and wellness center. Why hadn’t he asked for clarification on exactly what that meant? Why had he assumed it had to do with recovering from injuries and helping the animal heal—often after surgery? Why had he not even considered there would be bubble baths, painted nails, photoshoots, and aromatherapy? By the time he realized how miserable he’d become, he and Celeste were married, living in a place that was four times as big as the one he’d grown up in, with a personal chef, a housekeeper, a gardener, a dog walker, and a driver.
It had been useless to talk to Celeste about how he’d never pictured their life would look like this, how he wanted downtime and a career that mattered—how he wanted to spend time with her , minus her entourage and never-ending calendar of events. The woman he’d vowed to love forever couldn’t fathom why he wasn’t in love with their lives. She’d smiled up at him, pressed her small body against his, and whispered, Isn’t it all just magical?
Magical? No, he wouldn’t have called it that.
They’d been married ten months when Sam realized he needed to slow down and figure out where he was headed. Christmas in Magdalena could help him do that. The town where he’d grown up and the people who knew him would serve as solid ground to plan the next step of his life—one that did not include dog pampering and fake friends with nonstop social calendars. Besides, Celeste had never been to Magdalena and he wanted her to experience the quaintness of the town where he’d grown up and where their future children would one day visit. But when he mentioned the possibility, she’d scrunched her nose and shook her head. Sam. We have ski plans in Jacksonhole. Remember? You’ll get your snow and plenty of quiet time. You’ll have everything. We can’t turn down the offer again. Last time you had the flu, but this time we have to go. When she spoke in that sultry voice, her fingers trailing along his thigh, eyes shimmering with promise of what she’d do to him once he said “yes”, how could a guy resist?
He hadn’t been able to for a long time, but when the sleepless nights and the upset stomach started, followed by the nagging headaches that would not go away? He knew why, knew he had to do something about it, but it was his mother’s emergency hospital visit that brought it all into focus. Six days before Sam and Celeste left for a trip to Rome, his mother suffered a ruptured appendix and had to be rushed to the hospital. Cancel the trip, Sam had said. We’ve got to get home.
Home? Your home is here. With me. Your mother’s in the hospital and your sister’s on her way. They’ll take care of her and report back . She’d huffed, let out a harsh And I’m sure your sister will have a thing or two to say about it.
Yes, his sister would have a lot to say about Sam no-showing, and he pictured his father’s scowl, but he’d ignored both and listened to his wife…gone to Rome…drank wine and ate pasta…explored the Sistine Chapel and attended Mass at the Vatican. But he knew before the plane took off for Italy that he’d made a bad choice, worse than wrong. He should have headed to Magdalena. Of course, his mother insisted she understood, said he needed the vacation, especially when he was so busy with work. What work? Catering to dogs and cats who weren’t allowed to be dogs and cats because of their neurotic owners? Sure, he got money and upscale dinner invitations from a list of who’s who, but so what? It was all fluff and he’d never felt more useless in his entire life, not even when he broke his arm and couldn’t work the summer he turned sixteen.
He should not have listened to Celeste. No, he should have gone to Magdalena, with or without her. But he couldn’t one-hundred percent blame her because he’d let her convince him she was more important than his family. Had he dreaded facing his father again and had that played a part in staying away? If he dug deep enough and examined the possibilities, he’d have to admit that was part of it. His mother’s emergency and his reaction to it, forced him to open his eyes and take a hard look at the woman he’d married—what was important to her, what she held onto, and what she could discard—including her own family. If she could ignore her blood relatives, then what about his family? In-laws are a necessary yet unappealing inconvenience he’d once heard her tell a friend. But maybe he would have convinced himself they could get through their differences if the truth about her expectations hadn’t leaked out one dreary winter night.
I’m so excited to try out this new restaurant. Everyone says it’s on par with the Oak Bench.
It was the fourth must attend and can’t be missed in eight days. When was it going to stop? Would it ever stop? He’d sunk onto the king-sized bed, tie in his hand, shirt unbuttoned.
Sam, what’s wrong?
He’d looked at her and told her what had been resting in his heart for the past five months. Everything. Every. Damn. Thing.
She’d stood next to the bed, beautiful and elegant in a black dress and pearls, pink lips pulled into a frown . I don’t understand.
I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t.
Celeste opened her mouth to speak, closed it. Small groan and then, Is this about your mother?
Yes, it’s about my mother, but it’s about everything. Our life. This life. How can you stand it? He’d slashed his hand in the air, pointed to his suit jacket hanging a few feet away. It’s like we’re on display. Why do I feel like I’m always auditioning for a part, one you’re trying to get for me? I just want to be myself.
Yourself? And who is that? Do you even know?
She’d stepped back from the bed, green eyes signaling an “unhappy” look. We’re so close to the life we’ve always wanted and yet I feel you’re always fighting me. Why can’t you just accept the help and let people in? Become part of the team? Is it so much to ask?
I became a vet because I loved the animals, helping them and giving them a better life. I didn’t become one to turn them into four-legged humans in designer outfits. I don’t want this job anymore. I’m going to find something meaningful, something real.
You mean like your father’s practice in that little town you call home? Your home is here, Sam. Here, with me. A huff as she stepped into one black pump, then the other. And you can’t just quit. Stan did us a favor and you plan to show your gratitude by quitting? Those green eyes sparked, her voice sizzled with anger. I don’t think so.
It was then that he realized he didn’t belong with her, despite the fact that he’d never bailed on his commitments or quit when it became difficult. Where are we headed, Celeste? What about us? What about a family?
She’d grown very still, her face pale, hands clutching her middle. Seconds passed before she spoke the words that would mark the end of their two-year marriage. I don’t think children are in my plan anymore.
Not in your plan? Were they ever in your plan?
She’d looked away, shrugged. I’m sorry, Sam.
He moved out three days later, quit his job the week after, and spent the next year trying to find his way back to himself.
And here he was, in the hometown where he’d grown up, working for his father—not with because that would imply equals—still trying to figure out his life. What a mess. He’d been renting a room at the Heart Sent because the farmhouse he’d purchased was under renovation, and there was no way he was moving back in with his parents. That would just be sad and too pathetic. No thirty-six-year-old wanted to do that, especially with a father who’d told him he was making a bad choice from the very beginning, starting with the move to Chicago and the gig at the wellness pet center.
Dyeing a dog’s hair? Massages and spa treatments? Edgar Harrington hadn’t tried to hide his disbelief or his annoyance. This isn’t about veterinary medicine or caring for a pet. This is straight-up pandering to the rich who want to treat their animals like spoiled children .
Sam hadn’t wanted to see it that way, not when it fit into his future with Celeste. Just because it was unconventional did not make it ridiculous or irrelevant. I look at it as an opportunity to educate and show pet owners that their animals are more than just accessories. But the words had sounded weak even as he spoke them, and not one-hundred percent true.
Keep telling yourself that and see where you are five years from now. That woman has changed you, Sam, and not for the better.
His father had been right about that…which was another reason he wasn’t heading back to the house where he grew up. The fixer-upper he’d purchased five months ago needed work and while Sam could do a lot of it himself, he didn’t have months to get it done. Enter Pete Finnegan, a solid builder who kept his mouth shut and didn’t gossip. If only more people in this town were like that. But like most small towns, the residents of Magdalena shared stories, some true, some fabricated, some stretched so far, they could reach to the next town. As long as Sam wasn’t part of those stories, he didn’t mind. But since he’d returned two months ago, he’d been at the center of conversation and lots of speculation.
What happened to him?
He used to be so friendly and kind. Now he barely talks.
Unless he’s looking at an animal. I brought Sergio in the other day and the man’s face lit up like one-hundred birthday candles.
Sure does love his animals.
Hmm. Why doesn’t he have any?
Right. Why doesn’t he have a dog or a cat…even a fish?
Maybe he lost them in the d-i-v-o-r-c-e.
Sad.
Shouldn’t have picked a socialite for a wife.
I heard she slept with her diamonds on…rings, bracelet, heart-shaped necklace.
Can you imagine?
I’ll bet Edgar and Joyce have a few thoughts about her.
You mean like ‘good riddance’? Chuckle, chuckle.
Poor Sam, taken in by looks and a sultry smile.
He’s still a looker, even if he doesn’t smile much.
Find him the right woman and I bet he’ll smile again.
Maybe so…but good looks and a smile don’t feed a family. I bet he lost his money in the divorce.
You think that’s why he bought Jerome Eldridge’s old place?
Ah…bet that’s all he could afford.
Bet that won’t stop the women from chasing after him. Not a looker like that, even if he can’t pay the bills and doesn’t smile very much.
I’m sure he makes up for it in ‘other’ areas. Titter. Titter.
No doubt about that one. No doubt at all.
Sam had heard it all and wished he hadn’t. They wanted to think he didn’t have money? Sure, let them go ahead and think that. He’d bankrolled a ton with the pet wellness gig and Celeste only wanted out. Of course, she didn’t want him claiming any of her “money” as a marital asset, and she’d wanted the dogs. They’d been her dogs anyway, Bruno and Trixie, brother and sister Havapoos who’d shared Sam and Celeste’s king-sized bed, their meals, even interrupted their “intimate” time in bed. His ex-wife had never seen a problem with that, called them her children. Sam should have realized she preferred the four-legged versions over the two-legged ones. But, of course, he hadn’t wanted to see it because he’d been so caught up by her beauty and sophistication that he’d never asked the hard questions like How many children do you want? Where do you see us in five years? Ten? Twenty? What’s really important to you? And, Where do I fit in?
He’d made assumptions, big, bold, completely inaccurate. How had a guy with an IQ like his who’d never struggled with relationships, the future, or a strategy to achieve a goal, fallen so far? Maybe the question should have been how had he gotten here in the first place? At what point had he sacrificed his values and beliefs and adopted someone else’s? When had he lost himself?
His father didn’t trust him, his mother teared up when he walked into a room, and his sister was all too happy to point out the many drastic missteps he’d made in his life—even if she did it over the phone from two hundred miles away. We all saw it coming, and it started with her. You couldn’t see it, because why would you when you were so caught up in the glitz and glamour of that woman? She hypnotized you, brought you under her spell, and you never saw it coming. You’re as much to blame as she is, but at least you got out. The real question is, what now? Will you spend the rest of your life feeling sorry for yourself? Miserable and blaming the world life didn’t work out the way you thought it should? Or will you own up to the mistakes and find your own path… Your path, not someone else’s. I believe in you, Sam, and I want you to believe in yourself. Don’t settle for anything, especially a woman who doesn’t deserve you.
As if he were interested in a relationship. He doubted he’d ever trust anyone again. How could he when she might tell him anything and he wouldn’t know if it was true or not? Better to remain alone than have his heart shredded, his logic spun around until he couldn’t tell where he was headed or if the woman was real or just another illusion.
He dragged a hand through his hair, determined not to make the same mistake twice, even if it meant spending the rest of his life alone. Correction, alone with a dog because he did plan to get his own just as soon as Pete Finnegan finished the renovation on his house.
Sam pulled into the Heart Sent, hopped out of his truck, and made his way up Mimi’s sidewalk to the front door. He and Mimi had developed a routine since he moved in which included dinner together when he wasn’t working. She’d offered the dining room with all of the extras, but after too many elaborate meals with crystal, linens, China, and evening attire, he preferred the coziness of the kitchen. They did enjoy the dining room for after-dinner drinks and Mimi’s latest sweet treat—brownies, strawberry rhubarb pie, chocolate chip cookies…
Mimi Pendergrass had lived in this town as long as he remembered and had known her share of tragedy. She’d lost a son and husband and spent years estranged from her daughter, but according to Sam’s mother, the woman never gave up her belief that life was special, and on any given day, the impossible could become possible. She believed in hope and finding goodness in everyone. You just have to look, Sam. It’s there if you’re open to it . He didn’t have the heart to tell her he’d lost his ability to hope. As for finding the goodness in others? Well, there might be shreds of it if one looked close enough, but there was also plenty that wasn’t good.
He moved toward the kitchen and the smell of spaghetti sauce and baked bread. Mimi created a menu every Saturday morning and after his first week there, she included him in the list making. As he wolfed down pancakes, eggs, and whatever else she put in front of him, they chatted about his favorite and least favorite dishes, his schedule, and of course, whether or not other guests would be included. That last one always made him edgy, because while he accepted Mimi’s need to welcome other guests in order to make a living, he didn’t like it. The dynamics changed when there was an “intruder” visiting. Meals were eaten in the dining room, conversations were boring and repetitive. Sometimes Mimi didn’t even join them but remained in the kitchen to prepare the next course or clean up. That was the worst because Sam didn’t want to chat with these strangers and he wasn’t interested in “sharing”. But every one of them asked why he was there, how long he planned to stay…and when they heard he was from Magdalena? That opened up a whole level of “tell me more” and “this could get interesting”.
The last guests left seven days ago—a young couple from Ohio celebrating their fifth wedding anniversary. So much damn happiness, bubbling over, seeping across the table to clutch Sam’s gut, twisting so hard he thought he might puke up the apple strudel he’d just eaten.
We left our two-year-old with her grandparents. The woman glanced at her husband, eyes bright, voice soft. This is the first time we’ve taken a trip since she was born. Six whole days to sleep in.
Eat without being interrupted, or ? —
Getting food on our clothes.
We miss our little pumpkin, but…
A peck on the husband’s cheek. We’re reconnecting, remembering we’re a couple as well as parents and…
It was the husband’s turn to over share. We won’t forget that again.
Gush, gush, gush. When they started finishing each other’s sentences, Sam knew he had to find an escape. So, happy anniversary , he said, placing his napkin on the lace-covered table. Enjoy your stay.
They turned to him as though they’d just remembered he was sitting in the same room, an unwilling listener to their conversation. The woman’s gaze narrowed. Are you here alone?
Yup. He stood, pushed in the chair and was about to leave, when the wife spoke again, her words laced with sympathy.
I’m sorry you aren’t sharing it with someone. More sympathy and the tiniest hint of curiosity. Is there someone?
Sam gripped the back of the chair, forced a smile. I have a lot of ‘someones’, but I don’t think Mimi would appreciate this place being overrun by dogs and cats. A laugh and another smile, and he even managed a wink. Anything to get away from the happiness-and-ever-after duo. You can never go wrong with animals. They won’t cheat, disappoint, or destroy your life. Enjoy the rest of your stay.
Mimi must have sensed they’d been a “bit much” for him because the night they left, she fixed him manicotti with mushrooms and spinach, one of his favorites, and cherry cobbler, another of his favorites. And that’s what she’d fixed him tonight, which made him suspicious. He’d just scooped cherry cobbler and ice cream onto his spoon when Mimi sprung the news.
“We’re going to have a guest checking in soon.”
Sam glanced up from the spoonful of cobbler and ice cream he’d been about to plop in his mouth. “A guest? When and how long?” He and Mimi had a routine and while the minimal occupancy affected her bank account, she confessed she enjoyed the alone time with him. He enjoyed it too and didn’t want an intruder, but this was a bed-and-breakfast and he wasn’t about to rent out the whole place to keep Mimi to himself.
“I’m not sure if it will be this evening or tomorrow. She said it depends on when she can get out of town.”
“She?” He dumped the spoonful of cobbler and ice cream into his mouth, savored the sweet and tangy taste mixed with the creaminess of vanilla ice cream. Nobody baked like Mimi, not even his mother… Not even the fancy restaurants in Chicago.
When Mimi nodded, her red ball earrings bounced about. “Her name’s Hope and she’ll be coming to learn about our town.” The way she eyed him, said there was more to the story, and he probably wasn’t going to like it.
“And?”
The blue gaze settled on him, her expression filled with what could only be called compassion. “She’ll be staying a month.”
Sam gripped his spoon, kept his expression even. Great. Thirty days of sharing this place with a stranger? Just great. He’d have to find a way to avoid at least some of the dinners, definitely the conversation, and the common area while this woman was here. Of course, he had to be careful not to show Mimi how much he did not want this person at the Heart Sent, but he should have known there was no way to hide anything from Mimi Pendergrass.
“She sounded nice. Said she wants to learn all about the Heart Sent so her company can re-create it in another small town. And she wants to learn about Magdalena because apparently the company she works for is in the hotel business in cities and suburbs, but they’re looking to get into the small-town-bed-and-breakfast market.”
Sam scooped another spoonful of cobbler and ice cream, shrugged. “Sure, that’s what she says, but what’s the real reason she’s coming?” He stared at Mimi. “You know there’s always the story and then there’s the real story, right?”
Those blue eyes studied him. “Sam, I wish you could find the goodness in people and not think everyone has an ulterior motive. It’s not always about people trying to cheat one another. Sometimes they really do have good intentions. Can you try and see that? Maybe give Hope a chance?”
He looked away, waited until he’d gathered his thoughts and a proper response so he didn’t spit out what rested in his soul. How can I do that when I don’t trust people any longer? When I’m always looking for another story tucked inside the one they’re selling? He cleared his throat, worked up a half smile. “I’ll try, Mimi, but don’t expect me to sit down and share my life with this person or think I’m going to accept whatever she’s peddling without doing my own vetting.”
The wink and the laugh that followed said she liked that response. “I would expect no less from you. I like to believe I’m the shrewd one, but people have hoodwinked me a time or two, and it’s good to have a second pair of eyes. Pop Benito is backing off a bit to let Harry Blacksworth take over his role as Godfather of Magdalena. But Harry’s still in training and he’s too kind sometimes. You’ll have a good eye and after what you’ve been through, you’ll make sure I’m not missing anything… Like the ‘real’ story or another reason for her to be here.”
Did that mean Mimi had her own suspicions regarding this woman or was she just giving Sam a job and hoping he’d come up empty so he could embrace the universe again? Hard to tell, but it was not too soon to begin vetting the woman who’d be sharing his space for thirty days. “What did you say her last name was again? And what company is she representing?”
Two hours later, Sam leaned back against the pillows on his bed. He’d searched the Internet for Hope Newland. The woman’s image popped up; hazel eyes, high cheekbones, strong nose, tiny cleft in her chin. Sam studied the dark hair pulled into a bun. He bet she straightened it because it was way too perfect to be natural. The pearls said sophisticated and polished. Sam studied Hope Newland’s features; she had the same almond-shaped eyes and skin tone as Celeste. Her lips were fuller, the tiny cleft in her chin less pronounced. But the smile that boasted a combination of composure, confidence, and determination? That reminded him of his ex-wife and that was going to be a huge problem because Sam didn’t need another reminder of how he’d screwed up his life.