It Had to Be You

Then again, maybe he had, he acknowledged with a sudden, bittersweet pang of regret, his smile fading. But it was too late for regrets. To be specific, twelve years too late.

“I mean, this guy is gorgeous!”

Abby looked at her sister and grinned as she scrambled some eggs. “Are you sure you’re not exaggerating?” she asked skeptically.

“Absolutely not” Allison peeked into the oven to check the blueberry muffins, then turned back to her twin. “Tall, handsome, dark hair, deep brown eyes. And you know what? I think he’s single.”

“Yeah?” Abby paused, her tone interested. “How old is he?”

Allison shrugged. “Old. Thirty-something, probably. But for an older guy, he’s awesome.”

“Let me serve him, okay?” Abby cajoled.

“Hey, I saw him first!” Allison protested.

“Yes, but you had your chance to talk to him last night. It’s my turn. That’s only fair, isn’t it, Aunt Maggie?”

Maggie smiled and shook her head. “You two are getting awfully worked up about someone who will be checking out in an hour or two.”

Allison sighed dramatically. “True. But we can dream, can’t we? Maybe he’s a rich tycoon. Or maybe he’s lost his beloved wife and is retracing the route they traveled on their honeymoon. Or maybe he’s a Hollywood producer scouting the area for a new movie. Or…”

“Or maybe you better watch those muffins before they get too brown,” Maggie reminded her with a nod toward the oven.

Allison sighed. “Oh, Aunt Maggie, you have no imagination when it comes to men.”

“I have plenty of imagination. Fortunately, I also have a good dose of common sense.”

“But common sense is so…so boring,” Allison complained.

“He just came in,” Abby reported breathlessly, peering through a crack in the kitchen door. She grabbed the pot of coffee before Allison could get to it, and with a triumphant “My turn,” sailed through the door.

Maggie smiled and shook her head. One thing for sure. There was never a dull moment with the twins. At eighteen, the world for them was just one big adventure waiting to happen. And she encouraged their “seize the moment” philosophy—within reason, of course. Because she knew that life would impose its own limitations soon enough.

When Abby reentered the kitchen a few minutes later, she shut the door and leaned against it, her face flushed.

“Well?” Allison prompted.

“Wow!”

“See? Didn’t I tell you? What’s he wearing?” Allison asked eagerly.

“A dark gray suit with a white shirt and a maroon paisley tie.”

“A suit? Nobody ever wears a suit here. He must be a business tycoon or something.”

“Sorry to interrupt with such a mundane question, but what does he want for breakfast?” Maggie inquired wryly.

“Scrambled eggs, wheat toast and orange juice,” Abby recited dreamily.

Maggie was beginning to regret that she’d missed this mysterious stranger’s arrival. But the church council meeting had run late, and their unexpected guest had apparently retired for the night by the time she arrived home. It was unusual for a younger, apparently single, man to stay with them. Most of their guests were couples. Maybe she ought to check this guy out herself, she thought, as she placed two of the freshly baked blueberry muffins in a basket. Just for grins, of course. It would be interesting to see how she rated this “older guy” the twins were raving about.

Maggie picked up the basket of muffins and a glass of orange juice and headed for the door. “Okay, you two, now the mature woman of the world will give you her expert opinion.”

The twins giggled.

“Oh, Aunt Maggie. You’ve never been anywhere but Missouri, Boston and Maine,” Abby reminded her.

Maggie felt a sudden, unexpected pang, but she kept her smile firmly in place. “True. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t had my romantic adventures.”

“When?” Allison demanded pertly.

When, indeed? There’d only been one romantic adventure in her life. And that had ended badly. But she’d never told the girls much about it Only when they reached the age when boys suddenly became fascinating and they’d begun plying her with questions about her own romantic past had she even mentioned it. And then only in the vaguest terms. Yes, it had been serious, she’d told them. In fact, they’d been engaged. But it just hadn’t worked out. And that was all they ever got out of her, despite their persistent questions. She never wanted them to know that it was because of their arrival in her life that her one romance had failed. They’d had a hard enough time adjusting to the loss of their parents; she never wanted to lay the guilt of her shattered romance on them, as well. And she wasn’t about to start now. “I think I’ll remain a woman of mystery,” she declared over her shoulder as she pushed through the door to the sound of their giggles.

Maggie paused on the other side, taking a moment to compose herself. For some reason their innocent teasing had touched a nerve. She’d always claimed she had no time for romance, that she was perfectly happy living her life solo. She’d pretty much convinced them of her sincerity through the years. She’d almost convinced herself, as well. In many ways, her life was easier this way. Only occasionally did she yearn for the life that might have been. But she’d learned not to waste time on impractical “what-iffing.” Her life was the way it was, and for the most part she was happy and content and fulfilled. The Lord had blessed her in many ways, and she was grateful for those blessings. In fact, she had more in the “blessings” department than most people.

Her spirits renewed, she glanced around the small dining room. All the tables were filled, but it was easy to spot their “mystery” guest He sat alone, angled away from her, his face almost completely obscured by the daily paper he was reading. Yet she could tell that for once her assessment matched that of the girls’. They’d been right on target in their description of his physical attributes. He was impeccably dressed, his dark hair neatly trimmed above the collar of his crisp white shirt. His long legs stretched out beneath the table, and his hands seemed strong and capable.

As Maggie started across the room, the man lowered the paper and reached for his coffee, giving her a good view of his strong, distinguished—and very familiar— profile.

It was Jake!

Even as her mind struggled to reconcile his presence with the astronomical odds of him appearing in her dining room, her heart accepted it. She knew that profile—the firm chin, the classic nose, the well-shaped lips. It was him.

Maggie felt suddenly as if someone had delivered a well-placed blow to her chest, knocking every bit of wind out of her lungs. Her step faltered and the color drained from her face. She had to escape, had to get back to the kitchen and regain some control, before he spotted her.

But it was too late. As he lifted the coffee cup to his lips he glanced toward her, and their gazes connected— Maggie’s wide with shock, Jake’s changing in rapid succession from mild interest to curious to stunned.

Jake stared at the red-haired woman standing less than ten feet away from him and his hand froze, the coffee cup halfway to his lips. His heart stopped, then raced on. Maggie!

Maggie didn’t even realize her hands were shaking until the basket of muffins suddenly slipped out of her grasp. She tore her gaze from his and bent down, just as he rose to join her. Some of the juice sloshed out of the glass, leaving a sticky residue on her fingers as it formed a puddle on the floor. She looked at it helplessly, but a moment later Jake was beside her, wiping it up even as he retrieved a wayward muffin. Then he reached over and took her hand.

Her startled gaze collided with his, their eyes only inches apart

“Let me,” he said softly, the husky cadence in his voice exactly the same as she remembered it. With difficulty she swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat as he carefully wiped the sticky juice off her fingers with the clean side of the napkin. She stared down numbly, watching his strong, bronzed hand gently hold hers. She used to love the way he touched her, she recalled, her breath lodging in her throat. His hands—possessive, sure, tender—could work magic. A sudden, unexpected spark shot through her, and in confusion she jerked free of his grasp and rose unsteadily to her feet.

He stood up, as well, and then gazed down at her, his eyes warm, a shadow of incredulity lingering in their depths.

“Maggie.” The way he said her name, gently and with wonder, made her heart lurch into triple time. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yes. It has.” A tremor ran through her voice, but she didn’t care. She was just grateful she could speak at all.

“Is this your place?”

“Yes. Listen, I’m sorry about the muffins and juice. I’ll go get you some more. Excuse me.” And then she turned and fled.

Jake watched her go, aware for the first time that the two of them were drawing curious looks from the other guests. With one last glance toward the kitchen, he slowly turned and walked back to his table. His first inclination had been to follow Maggie, but he understood that she needed some time to adjust to this strange turn of events. He knew he did.

Jake reached for his coffee, noting that his hand was trembling. He wasn’t surprised. A bizarre coincidence like this was more than a little unsettling. Only yesterday he’d been thinking of Maggie, and his dreams last night had been filled with her. Then he’d awakened to a reality that didn’t include her, reminding himself that she was part of his past Until now.