The Widower's Second Chance

Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#ulink_b0d9a014-18ed-5d6a-afa6-15b40f704795)

That sure smelled like fire.

Caleb Beck backed out from his crouched position under the sink and laid down the wrench. Hopefully the patch on the pipe would work. “Mags! Are you cooking something?”

He clomped over to the industrial oven he’d installed at the bed-and-breakfast a few years ago. Cool to the touch. He peeked inside, just in case. Empty.

The inn had seven guest bedrooms, and four of the rooms had their own fireplaces. He sniffed the air and turned in a circle, his fingers looped on his tool belt. The smell didn’t come from upstairs. Out the window over the kitchen sink, Caleb spotted the inn’s owner, Maggie West, working in the garden. It would be just like his absentminded sister-in-law to not follow city code and burn something out in the yard.

He yanked open the back door. “Maggie. Are you burning something? Leaves, maybe?”

Maggie rolled her eyes at him, her hands on her hips and her curly brown hair puffing out in every angle imaginable. “Burning leaves at the end of summer? We have months yet for that. Don’t tell me you hit your head in there.”

Caleb growled. Should have known he wouldn’t get a straight answer out of her. Maggie had been stubborn since they were kids playing on the beaches of Lake Michigan together.

He let out a long breath. Be patient. “Well, something is burning, and if you’re just going to stand there...”

“It’s probably faulty work done by my handyman.” A laugh in her voice, she bent back down to tend to her garden.

“But I’m your handyman.”

“Like I said.”

He shoved through the back door and his eyes landed on the door that led to the basement. Of course. These old Victorians came complete with ancient and terrible wiring. Sure, the homes filled the tourist town of Goose Harbor with charm, but the laws against changing historical landmarks made it difficult to improve the buildings when safety came into play. Maggie might not take him seriously, but the whole place could go up in a heap of smoke if he didn’t act fast. Caleb hurtled down the stairs, taking them two at a time.

The sight that met him made him freeze for a moment.

A woman he’d never seen before hunched over a metal tub in the middle of the cold floor. Her blond hair splayed across her face and blocked him from seeing her expression. Pieces of paper fanned out in all directions around her.

He took a step forward. She didn’t look up. Caleb scooped up one of the papers. A letter.

Dear Paige...

Her shoulders trembled. “Never again.”

Paige tossed a stack of folded papers onto the small fire burning in the tub. Flames licked the edge of the bin as the paper started to curl and turn black. Next, she grabbed a mound of white fabric from beside her. If she tossed that wispy bunch of cloth into the small tub, the fire would get out of control. Not to mention smell awful.

He crossed to where she sat on the ground.

Almost in a daze, Paige lifted her arms, ready to stuff the white pile of fabric into the fire.

Caleb caught her wrists. “What are you, crazy? Don’t do that.” He tugged what now registered in his head as a dress out of her clutches.

Paige slammed her hands onto her hips. “Give that back.”

Caleb tossed it out of her reach. She moved to go after the dress, but he grabbed her slender shoulders, and she finally looked at him. When her crystal-blue eyes locked on his, something warm curled inside his chest. He knew enough about women to know only one thing could cause those huge raccoon marks on her face. She’d been crying. Not just crying—sobbing. But even the running mascara couldn’t mask her simple beauty. The splash of freckles across her cheeks, delicate nose and pursed lips as she exhaled...everything about her screamed protect me.

Had he ever been able to deny someone who needed help?

Caleb shook that thought away. He’d had the opportunity to protect more than one person he cared about and failed. Miserably. Never again.

He didn’t deserve another chance.

A thin breath rattled out of her, and she shrank away from him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m...I’m...” Paige looked like a scared animal begging a hunter not to shoot her.

“What were you doing?” Caleb kept his voice low and even.

“Can you please hand me my wedding dress?”

“Your...?” His eyes darted to the white pool of fabric he’d thrown to the corner of the basement. The girl was going to shove a wedding dress into the fire? What could have happened to her? “You can’t burn that in here. It’s not safe. Besides, a wedding dress is something to keep forever.”

“Forever. Ha. Forever doesn’t exist.” Paige ran the back of her hand under her eyes and pushed up to her feet. Brushing past him, she scooped up the dress. “I can do whatever I want with it.”

Caleb tugged the dress away from her. “Not toss it in that fire. In fact—” He strode past her to the sink near the washer and dryer and filled a pitcher with water. Walking back to the small metal tub, he doused the fire inside. The flames hissed as they died.

“You had no right.” She crossed her arms over her chest and her foot tapped on the cement floor. Too bad the petite woman couldn’t have looked menacing if she tried.

“And you have no right trying to burn down Maggie’s inn.”

“I wasn’t going to—I promise I won’t put it in the fire.” She yanked a hair tie off her wrist and pulled her hair into a quick, messy bun. “It’s been a bad day.”

He took a step closer. Yes, this woman was beautiful. Of that there was no doubt. Despite her obvious grief and the spotty lighting in the basement, Paige’s features were stunning—legs a mile long and honey-colored hair a man couldn’t help but want to run his hands through. Her blue eyes were deep with locked secrets, kind of like an animal in a cage at the shelter—a little sad yet with the promise of hope. A dusting of freckles formed striking constellations on her cheeks. They were cute, making her seem approachable even in her present state of distress.

What was she doing here? “Who are you, anyway?”

She lifted her chin. “I live here.”

“Listen. I know everyone in this town and I have never seen you in my life. Who are you?”

Her lips quivered. “Can I just have the dress back? Please?”

“Not if you’re going to try to do something crazy with it again.” He moved his hands behind his back so she couldn’t make a grab at the fabric.

She balled her fists up at her sides. “I’m so tired of people telling me what I can and can’t do.” She marched toward him, bringing along a sweet, flowery smell that made him want to lean closer even with the blaze in her eyes.

Her pointer finger jabbed into his chest. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but—”

“It’s just... I can’t believe—” She dissolved into a mess of tears and ragged breaths. Hands covering her face as her shoulders hunched, her knees began to buckle.

Caleb dropped the dress and caught her elbows before she hit the ground. She wasn’t even trying to stand anymore. He had to press her to his chest and wrap his arms around her just to keep her upright. Her head fit right into the place next to his heart. “Shh. Hey. You’re okay.”