The Widower's Second Chance

Too bad glass-slipper dreams only came true in storybooks.

Paige swung her arms, making herself walk faster.

Smaller homes on wide yards dotted the outskirts of the town. Even the most insignificant house here had more personality than any house found in the Chicago suburbs she had grown up in. Each one seemed to have a story—with a hundred years of history to be told.

Maybe this new start in Goose Harbor was all she needed. A fresh start. A new home.

No, not home. Nothing could ever feel like home again.

Leaving Illinois and all the dreams she’d clutched since childhood hadn’t been easy. But staying meant seeing him—being reminded of him. Staying hadn’t been a viable option.

At the bend in the road, the canopy of trees broke and the residential properties became closer together. Fresh Lake Michigan air mingled with the smell of someone barbecuing. Like giant sleeping bears, sand dunes hulked on both sides of the road. The anchoring trees grew through the shifting soil and hooded the road, only allowing slivers of sunlight to skip across her face when she turned onto Lake Front Drive.

A large town square made up the bustling portion of Goose Harbor. In the middle of the square was a large grassy area complete with a red band shell, a few park benches, a white gazebo and a small rose garden. A short distance from the square lay Ring Beach—named for the almost perfect half circle of soft sand that lined the shorefront. The calm, shallow waters at Ring Beach drew thousands of visitors to Goose Harbor every summer.

On the road, traffic slowed to a halt as a crop of buildings came into view. End-of-the-summer vacationers crowded the brick sidewalks that made up the downtown portion of Goose Harbor, clogging the roadways as they filtered between the homemade fudge shops, art galleries, unique mom-and-pop stores, ice-cream parlors and quaint restaurants built on stilts over the pier section of the waterfront. Women in high heels clip-clopped out of the way of darting children as old men sat watching the world go by from wooden benches lining the dock. White masts bobbed in the marina.

No wonder Goose Harbor had been voted one of the top five places to vacation in the Midwest.

Paige veered away from the cute downtown. Something told her to go to the beach, watch the waves roll in and pray. But there was no point. God didn’t want to hear about her minuscule troubles. After all, He had wars and starving children to worry about. His time should be spent on situations that actually mattered to the world, not her. No, she didn’t need to bother Him with her little issues.

Besides, when was the last time something she prayed for actually happened?

She followed the path that led to the high school. She stood in the parking lot, hands on her hips, and scanned the building. A group of people tossed a basketball around on the far outdoor court. A couple clad in neon spandex ran together around the track.

She could do this.

Sure, all her other teaching experience had been at inner-city schools in Chicago, but students in a tourist town couldn’t be that different, not really. If she’d learned something while teaching it was that all teens needed one thing—someone to let them know that their life mattered and they had worth, as is.

Anyway, she’d relocated to Goose Harbor to volunteer at Sarah’s Home—a nonprofit organization that helped at-risk youth. Over the past few years, Dad had donated to Sarah’s Home because his college roommate, Mr. Timmons, was the head of the board. Dad might have used the place as a tax shelter, but Paige looked forward to the quarterly newsletter from Sarah’s Home.

No one knew, but those newsletters had shaped her desire to work with inner-city students. She’d wanted to be a teacher since grade school, but only after poring over the updates and the Sarah’s Home website had a passion sparked inside of her for at-risk youths.

After catching Bryan tangled up with a leggy redhead, Paige knew she needed to leave Chicago. All her friends were Bryan’s friends. Her dreams near her childhood stomping ground were all too linked with the boy she’d known since junior high school.

No, leaving had been her only option.

Sarah’s Home popped into her head immediately—her safe place. Now she could be a part of the nonprofit that had already shaped her life so much. In the midst of her trial, she could turn things around for the good and give back.

Yes, the chance to help at Sarah’s Home had been the main draw to this area; finding a teaching job at the nearby high school had been a nice bonus. Her dad’s friendship with Principal Timmons hadn’t hurt, either. Timmons had been urging her to apply to his school ever since she graduated and was only too happy to call her when a last-minute position opened.

Who knew? Maybe in a few weeks she’d have a bunch of friends here...maybe that would be her in the middle of a neighborhood game of pickup.

Paige took a couple of steps forward, squinting to watch the basketball game. It looked like a bunch of teens, probably her future students. Maybe they were members of the high school’s team getting in a practice before school started at the end of the week. A couple of elementary-school kids sat on the sidelines.

The tallest guy called for a break and walked over to where the children sat. The two boys hopped up when he offered them the basketball. The man motioned for them to follow him to the basket, where he took turns lifting both of them up to dunk the ball.

From a distance, she couldn’t make out how old the man was, but his gesture warmed her heart and made her long for the family she dreamed of but wouldn’t have. Perhaps those were the coach’s sons. Either way, in her experience it was a rare trait in a man to choose to play with kids when he could be standing courtside joking with the older students.

When they called game again, Paige crept a bit closer. She took a seat on a wooden bench near the court.

The tallest man dribbled the ball, skirted past his opponent and sank the ball into the net with a swoosh. Caught up in the moment, Paige clapped.

The player turned around and locked gazes with her. Recognition hit her in the stomach like a punch.

Caleb.

She shot to her feet, spun around and picked her way across the field in the opposite direction.

So much for her hopes of never seeing him again.

Chapter Two (#ulink_c7158998-802d-5a91-84fa-9fc36bbcd752)

“Can we not talk about this right now?” Caleb dropped his voice and glanced around the Cherry Top Café to see if anyone was listening to him and Maggie. Burgers sizzled on the big grill in back and a grease tang hung thick in the air. A busboy clanked dirty dishes together as he cleared a nearby table. Tucked a block away from the popular town square, Cherry Top didn’t rank high on the must-hit tourist list, but that’s why Caleb ate there.

Maggie shoved the coleslaw around on her plate with her fork. “I’m not dropping this. Hear me out. It’s like your life is on hold. You’ve mourned long enough. I hope you know that.”

Mourned long enough? Impossible.

Caleb grabbed the saltshaker and slid it between both of his hands. “Seriously, Mags, leave it alone.”

“I can’t. You know, it’s hard for me, too, but I can’t keep digging in my heels hoping she’ll come walking into the inn again, either. Because she’s not going to.”

“Do you honestly think you’ve moved on?”

Maggie pursed her lips and looked outside.

A fly skittered against the windowpane near Caleb’s elbow, buzzing wildly in its attempt to break through the glass and get back out in the fresh air. Maggie grabbed the menu and banged the heavy papers against the window, ending the fly’s struggle for good.

She exhaled a long breath. “Besides, you’re the only family around that I have left to bug, so you have to indulge my meddling whims.”

“Not on this.” He shoved his plate toward the center of the table and tossed his napkin on top.

Maggie reached across the table and laid her hand over his. “You’re still young and have so much of your life left. My sister would have wanted you happy. You know that, don’t you?”

He snaked his hand from hers and dropped it in his lap under the table. “I am happy.” Sometimes. Like during the school year with students filing into his science classroom, or at the church’s summer camp when the teens talked at the end of the session around the fire pit about how much they had learned and grown that week.

Maggie offered a sad smile. “Well, Caleb Beck, you could have fooled me.”

Caleb leaned forward and lowered his voice. “If you wanted to talk about this we could have done it at the inn instead of out in public.”

People stared at him enough. Poor Caleb. He didn’t need to add this conversation to the list of reasons to pity him. Gossip had a tendency to spread like lice in Goose Harbor, especially among the year-round residents. He didn’t need anyone overhearing Maggie and thinking he couldn’t hack it as a teacher or youth-group volunteer, or continue on at Sarah’s Home. He was so tired of being treated like he was broken.

The high school’s soccer coach, a heavyset man in his mid-forties, walked past their table and waved his spoon at Caleb. What was the man’s name? Caleb offered a polite smile back.

Maggie tugged the giant clip out of the back of her hair, rearranged it a little and pinned up her hair again. Only, she missed a chunk of unruly curls, making it look like a crazy peacock feather coming out of the side of her head. “It’s not like I planned to dive into all this, but I felt like I needed to tell you that I’m okay with you dating again. In case you were worried about that. If you find the chance to have love again, you should. Okay? That’s all I’m going to say about it. Promise.”

He kept his eyes trained out the window at the tourists strolling toward the dock. “Thank you.”