"It is substantially true that virtue or morality is a necessary spring of popular government. The rule, indeed, extends with more or less force to every species of free government. Who that is a sincere friend to it can look with indifference upon attempts to shake the foundation of the fabric?" Violet glanced down at the book, then over to Sam’s curly blond head. This was always the part of the speech when he began to doze, but she pressed on regardless, if only to make sure he was well and truly zonked by the time she put the book down.

"Promote then, as an object of primary importance, institutions for the general diffusion of knowledge. In proportion as the structure of a government gives force to public opinion, it is essential that public opinion should be enlightened." She glanced at him again and noted the even rise and fall of his chest. One of this toy soldiers was still in his hand, and after laying her book on the nightstand, she carefully extracted the toy and set it on the little boy's bookshelf along with the others.

After dropping a kiss on his forehead, she tiptoed toward the door and silently closed it behind her before finally breathing a sigh of relief.

Not that it lasted long. As soon as she straightened up and got ready to head down the stairs, she found a pair of brown eyes staring at her from the top of the landing.

Wade. He was still in his clothes from the baseball game and apparently oblivious to the need for complete silence in the hall when Sam had finally gotten to sleep.

“What were you reading?” he asked.

She pressed a finger to her lips and headed down the steps, not bothering to glance behind her to see if he'd followed as she made her way to the kitchen. His heavy footfalls had already told her all she needed to know.

"What, is it like some kind of secret?" he asked.

"No." She pulled a cookie from the cabinet near the sink and took a bite. Then, swallowing, she said, "Sam needs complete silence at night in order to say asleep. He's a light sleeper."

"Oh, right. I think Jimmy mentioned that in his letter."

"Not likely." Violet rolled her eyes. "Anyway, it was George Washington's farewell speech to the nation upon his resignation from office."

Wade glanced at the box of cookies in her hand, then frowned. "So, it was like, what, homework?"

"No." She stuffed the box of cookies back in the cabinet and then made for the door, but something gripped her bicep and held her there. She glanced down the find Wade touching her, and in spite of everything a wave of white hot heat shot through every cell in her body.

It was rage, she thought. Probably residual anger about his putting Sam in harm's way. About the way he hadn't shut up about Philadelphia. About the way he was going to, inevitably, break Sam's little heart.

She shouldered out of his grip, but when she looked up into his face, all she could find was real, genuine concern. His brown eyes seemed even darker than before, and as he leaned back on the counter behind him, his hard, square jaw ticked.

"What?" she said.

"Why don't you like me?"

She wrinkled her nose. "What?"

"Why don't you like me? Do you think I was friends with Jimmy or something?"

She considered for a moment. There was s smart way to answer this question. "No. I don't think you were friend with Jimmy. I think..." She swallowed hard, and then pivoted for another tactic. "I never said I didn't like you."

"You never had to. From the second I walked through the door yesterday, you were on the warpath. Now I want to know what gives." He raised his eyebrows.

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Diplomacy. That was the right move here. "I...I may have been a little aggressive. I'm sorry. I know you're my boss and--"

"I'm not your boss. My sister's estate is your boss. And, based on your behavior, I'm pretty sure you don't need me to remind you of that."

"Right. Well, either way. I'll try to behave differently in future." She turned for the door again, biting hard on her bottom lip to keep from telling him what she really thought of him. To keep from letting every little niggling annoyance slip out and ruin everything.

Do it for Sam, she told herself. Stay quiet for Sam.

"Not so fast." There it was again. He was holding her arm, practically spinning her around, and when she faced him again, she was only inches from him. The smell of his cool, crisp aftershave assailed her and she took a deep breath before trying to shoulder from his grip again.

This time, though, he wasn't having it. His grasp tightened on her arm, and a roll of goose bumps rose up her spine as she took another deep breath.

"There's more going on here than you're willing to say, and I need to know the truth. Did you have some sort of fling with Jimmy and that's why you're--?"

"God, of course not." She moved her hand to physically force him away, but there was no moving him. Even the muscles of his fingers were like solid stone. Faintly, she considered what it would be like to push him away and feel the equally hard plane of muscle beneath his shirt.

"So what's your deal, then?"

"I just..." She looked at the cabinets behind him, the floor, the ceiling, begging the answer to come to her from somewhere unseen, but when nothing came, she said, "I can't afford to make you angry. I'm all that little boy has."

"You're not, though. He has me."

"He's had for a day. And then what happens when you leave?" She spat the words without thinking, but they'd had their effect. Wade's grip loosened and his gaze narrowed.

"You think I came all the way to this town--the town I couldn't wait to get out of--just to get bored and leave again?"

"Why not? It's what you did the last time. Everyone in town knows you were dating Helen Albright and you just up and left without telling her goodbye. How am I supposed to know you won't do the same to Sam?"

“Helen Albright” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Jesus. Sam isn't a clingy control freak bent on marriage. He's my nephew and I love him. My only priority is to make sure he's happy and safe."

"Well if you want him to be so happy then why don't you bother to get to know him before dragging him off to some baseball game? Anyone who'd met the kid for more than five seconds could tell he wouldn't like something like that, but no, it was all about you. You needed him to find an interest in something you like. Because everything is always about you."

"Big words coming from someone who barely knows me."

"Oh, I know you. I know you well enough to know that you don't even remember me. We went to school together, but you've now spent two days without so much as a single flash of memory. That's how self involved you are." She wanted to clap her hand to her mouth r snatch the words from the air and pretend she hadn't said them.

But there they were. Impossible to strike from the record.

His gaze searched her face as heat rose to her cheeks and she rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. She needed to change the subject and fast. Anything, anything than to have everything click into place in his memory.

"But that's not the point," she pressed on, "The point is that your nephew is a special kid and if you love him and want what's best for him, then you had better stick in this time. He's had enough snatched away from him and I'll be damned if I watched another person waltz into his life just to leave behind another scar. And...and I only mention knowing you because you don't exactly have the reputation of being the kind of guy to stick around." With a deep breath, she finished with a lame: "That's all."

* * *

Wade blinked and then, realizing that he still had a loose hold on Violet's forearm, released her.

"I...I'm touched that you love my nephew so much," he said. It was all he could think to say, really. After all, what could this girl--this girl he didn't even remember--know about him? What did he remember? High school, middle school, his whole life here was so far behind him that he'd hardly even recalled the girl he'd left behind when he'd gone. He'd simply been focused on starting fresh. And now, he was focusing on starting fresh a second time as a person Sam could count on.

He studied her face, waiting for the moment when she'd back away and leave him in her dust, but it didn't come. Instead, she stared back at him, her mouth half-open as if she was debating dropping even more uncomfortable truths on him. And if she did? Well, maybe he'd deserve them.

Still, there was one thing about what she'd said that he couldn't seem to come to terms with. How in the hell could he have gone to school with--and probably even been in the same grade as--the woman in front of him? In a town this small, everyone knew each other, and considering his track record, it was nearly impossible that he hadn't dated her at least one time. And if she'd looked back then anything like she did now...

No, there was no way that was the truth. A girl who looked like Violet would have stopped him in his tracks, even back then.

There had to be another explanation.

Violet took her bottom lip between her teeth, apparently waiting for him to speak, and in that one little action, everything flooded back.

Her creamy skin hadn't been so clear back then. Her hair had been darker and lank. For a time, her perfect white teeth had been encased in braces. She'd been short, though, and less slender than she was now. Or maybe her tomboyish clothes had only made it seem that way.

But her lips...

those were exactly the same. With a jolt, he remembered the way they felt against his, and he racked his brain, trying to think of when and how and why it had happened.

Apparently, she'd noticed the way his gaze had lingered on her mouth, too, though, because she cleared her throat and said, "Like I said, though--"

"No, no, you're right. I could have been a better uncle and I should have found out what Sam was interested in before I jumped in feet first. But I can do better. Will you help me?"

She blinked, apparently taken aback by his request, but she nodded all the same. "Yeah, um. Sure. I can help you."

Her cheeks colored and he watched as her gaze focused so intently on the cabinets beside him that he was sure she might be able to open them with her mind.

"I'm going to be there for him."

"Good. Sapphire Falls needs more kids like Sam." Without another word, she turned on her heel and disappeared back up the stairs, though he was careful not to point out to her that he'd never said a word about Sapphire Falls.

He took another deep breath, and waited a few moments before following her up the steps, a nightcap in his hand.

Tomorrow, he reminded himself, was a new day. A whole extra day to get to know Sam before he spent the rest of his week at school.

Still, somehow, it wasn't Sam that filled his mind that night.

It was Violet. Violet who, as he recalled, used to go by “Lettie.” The quiet girl who'd eaten her lunches in the library and seldom ever spoke in class. She'd had a few friends, mostly the dorky boys he hadn't spent much time with, but she'd always been nice to him. Had even, if he remembered correctly, told one of the upperclassmen girls to give him a chance when she'd seen them sniggering at his attempt to win them over.

At the time, he hadn't appreciated her help all that much.

But he had kissed her.

It had been dark, he thought, and she'd smelled pretty. Like flowers with just the tiniest whiff of hairspray. And then...

It all clicked into place. The night of the eighth grade homecoming dance. He and his friends had spiked the punch and a few of them had bet him that he couldn't get goodie-goodie Lettie Dunn to drink it. Looking at her, standing over in the corner of the room, he was pretty sure they were right. For all the fun she was having, she may as well have been a chaperone, but then, as he'd approached her, he'd known differently.

She was watching a pair of dancers with a sad, almost mournful expression on her face and when he followed her gaze to find Jimmy with his hands draped around Danika Miller's waist, he'd seen enough to understand.

It had been a long time ago, and though he didn't remember what he'd said, he did remember the kiss. It had been the tiniest bit shy, almost timid, but then she'd moved closer to him, and he'd found himself fighting the urge to wrap his arms around her and pull her closer, kiss her deeper.

He hadn't, though. Whatever happened after that, he didn't know.

But Lettie--or, rather Violet--just might. Had he done something to hurt her? Had she expected the kiss to mean something more? And if she did, surely she wasn't faulting him for it now that they were both grown?

He took a sip of his bourbon, opened his laptop, then typed her name into the social media site that was--shamefully--his home page.

Violet was right. He was going to have to do some serious work to win Sam over.

But in order to do that? He was going to have to win over Violet, too