“I don’t want to hurt you, Liz.”

She glanced away. “What do you want?”

He dropped his hand to his side. “I want a do-over. I want to be there when Tyler’s born and watch him grow up.”

There was raw honesty in his expression and anguish in his tone. Her chest tightened.

“I’m sorry, too,” she said softly. “More sorry than I can tell you.”

“I know.”

Two little words that usually didn’t mean much. But this time, spoken by him, they were the world.

“We can make this work,” she reiterated. “I want you and Tyler to spend as much time together as possible.”

“Hard to do when you live in San Francisco.”

She wanted to say that if this was so damned important, he could be the one to move. He could run his businesses from there. Only she knew that wasn’t possible or practical. That most people would say she should be the one to compromise. To turn her life upside down and move back to Fool’s Gold. Because it would be better for everyone.

Everyone but her.

“I need to get back,” she concluded. “I have to work before the kids get home from camp.”

They walked to the parking lot together. Liz tried to think of something to say—another compromise that they could both live with. But it didn’t exist.

When she pulled out the keys to her small SUV, Ethan grabbed her arm. He pulled her around and there, in the middle of the afternoon, in an open parking lot, on a Thursday, he kissed her.

His mouth claimed hers with a combination of need, anger and determination she could relate to. Instead of pulling away, she leaned into him, kissing him back just as passionately, letting her emotions flow through her. Their lips clung, their bodies strained. He wrapped one arm around her waist, she put her free hand on his shoulder.

For a single moment, there was nothing but the heat of the sun and the man who held her. There was wanting and promise and in that space of time, anything was possible. Then sanity returned in the sharp honk of a horn, the sounds of traffic and the realization that this problem was bigger than a kiss.

Ethan released her. She stepped back. Without saying a word, they each got in their own car and drove away.

LIZ ARRIVED HOME KNOWING THAT if she wasn’t expecting three children to walk in the front door in the next hour or so, she would give in to the theory that it was five o’clock somewhere and pour a big glass of wine. As it was, she changed into jeans and a T-shirt and medicated herself with Diet Coke and two peanut butter cookies. She’d barely taken her first bite, had yet to feel the sugar coursing through her body, when someone knocked on the front door.

She found herself hesitating before answering. In this town, unexpected company was rarely the good kind. A theory confirmed when she pulled open the door and found Ethan’s mother standing there.

Liz did her best not to flinch. She knew better than to show fear in the face of a predator. Denise Hendrix smiled and held out a covered casserole dish.

“Mac and cheese,” she said. “It was Ethan’s favorite when he was growing up. Actually it was all my kids’ favorite. What is it about children and cheese and pasta?”

Denise looked both friendly and hopeful.

Liz once again wished for wine or a margarita. When neither appeared, she stepped back to let the other woman in.

“You’ll want to put this in the fridge,” Denise continued. “It only needs to be heated. About forty minutes at three-fifty. Oh, and take off the foil.”

“Thanks,” Liz said, taking the dish and walking into the kitchen. “Can I get you anything?”

“No. I’m fine. Were you working? Am I interrupting?”

“I’ve been dealing with other things today,” Liz said, wondering if she should mention the visit with the judge or leave that for Ethan to share. She wasn’t completely sure about Denise’s reason for stopping by. Somehow the food delivery seemed more like an excuse than a plan.

“Do you have deadlines?” Denise asked.

“Yes. I usually stay on top of them. This summer has been a challenge.”

“You’ve been dealing with a lot.”

Sympathy? Was it safe to trust it? “There are unique circumstances.”

Denise leaned against the counter. “I know about the injunction and I’m sorry my son was such an idiot. I hope it went well with the judge.”

So his mother already knew. Is that why she’d stopped by? But why not wait and get the story from her son? “We saw her this afternoon. It was interesting.” Liz explained how she and Ethan had until the end of summer to come up with a plan.

“Do you know what you’re going to agree on?” Denise asked.

“Not yet. I know what Ethan wants.” Liz said the last sentence defiantly. Because it would be what Denise wanted, too.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” the other woman told her. “That you had to go through having a baby on your own. I remember when I was pregnant with Ethan. I was terrified. You were younger and alone. That couldn’t have been easy.”

Liz forced herself to relax. She moved to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair, then waited for Denise to do the same before sitting.

“I had a few difficult moments,” she admitted. “Luckily I found a shelter for pregnant girls. It was nice not to be completely by myself. I saw a doctor, got the right kind of food and vitamins.”

“I wish we’d known,” Denise offered. “I wish you’d come to me.”

Liz stared at her. “I appreciate what you’re saying but that would never have happened.” It wouldn’t have occurred to her. Not ever, but especially not after Ethan had rejected her so publicly.

“I understand. I wish I’d known the two of you were together. Maybe I would have thought to check on you.”

Rather than say something she would regret, Liz pressed her lips together and nodded slightly.

“I knew what they were saying about you, back then,” Denise told her. “I always felt so bad for you. I wish your mother had protected you more.”

“She was the real problem. I wasn’t doing those things. I wasn’t that girl, but no one cared to look beyond the rumors. Well, except for Ethan and then, not so much.”

Denise frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter. It was a long time ago.”

“It matters to me.” She leaned toward Liz. “Why did you leave that first time?”

Liz tried to be vague. This was Denise’s son, after all. “We had a fight.”

“I don’t believe that’s the only reason.”

Liz drew in a breath. “You should ask him.”

“I’m asking you.” Denise gave her a faint smile. “Don’t make me use my ‘bad mom’ voice. I have six kids and a lot of practice.”

Fine. If the woman wanted to know, Liz would tell her.

“Ethan and I had been going out for two months. He didn’t want anyone to know. Despite how much he said he loved me, I think he was a little embarrassed by my reputation. I was going to join him at college, where no one would know about me. We were going to be together. I loved him. He was my first boyfriend. My first kiss. My first…” She cleared her throat. “You know.”

“I can imagine. Then what happened?”

“I was working at the diner. Ethan was in with his friends, like always. I used to think it was so romantic that no one knew. It was our secret.” Knowing Ethan loved her had made her feel special.

“Josh mentioned seeing us together. All Ethan’s friends started going after him, wanting to know if he was ‘doing me.’” She laced her fingers together, determined to stay in the moment, to not remember too much. “He said he barely knew who I was. That he would never be interested in someone like me.”

Denise flinched. “Oh, Liz. I’m so sorry.”

She shrugged. “I was humiliated and hurt. I could feel my heart breaking. I dumped a milk shake on his head and walked out. That was the last time we spoke. When I found out I was pregnant, I came back to tell him. I found him in bed with another girl.”

“Oh, God.” Denise touched her arm. “That’s awful. I don’t know what else to say.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. Nothing about the situation is okay.” Denise shook her head. “It’s Ralph, and that damned idea of his that we’re the Hendrixes. The family that founded Fool’s Gold.” She sounded frustrated. “Reputation is everything. Act right, do right, be right. Emotions be damned.”

Denise sighed. “I loved my husband from the moment I first saw him, but he wasn’t easy. And he passed all that righteousness onto Ethan.”

Liz wasn’t surprised. “He was the oldest.”

“Exactly.”

“Being with someone like me violated everything his father had ever said. I get it.” Liz spoke as if the words didn’t hurt her and hoped the other woman couldn’t see the truth.

“For Ralph, the world was black and white. Reality is much more gray. I don’t think Ethan was mature enough to see that.”

Denise sounded sincere and conciliatory, which Liz appreciated, but it also made her uncomfortable.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “The past is over. Tyler and I have been fine. I’ve taken good care of him.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Denise assured her. “But while you’ve been busy taking care of your son, who’s taken care of you?”

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

Denise smiled gently. “Liz, we all need someone. And now you have us. I hope you’ll accept me and my children into your family. You’re a part of us now.”

It was as if she could hear a door slam somewhere in the distance. No. Not a door—a gate. Denise was Tyler’s grandmother. He had aunts and uncles. However far she might want to run, she was bound to these people forever, and for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out if that was a good thing or a bad one.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

LIZ HAD DONE HER BEST TO prepare Roy’s daughters for the reality of seeing their father in prison, but words couldn’t begin to explain the experience. Not only did Melissa and Liz have to leave their cell phones in the car, Abby wasn’t allowed to bring gum. She’d had to tell the girls not to wear chambray shirts or jeans because the color was forbidden for visitors. It was what the prisoners wore. They all had to make sure their shirts had sleeves and that they would have to pass through a metal detector before they could see their father.

Their cheerful mood during the drive had faded, the closer they got to the prison, then disappeared when they stopped by the structure. Liz understood completely. There was no way to look at the forbidding building and feel anticipation.

They followed the other visitors to an open patio where Roy hovered. He looked both excited and nervous.

“You came,” he said, when he saw them.

Abby rushed toward him and he embraced her, but Melissa hung back.

“It’s all right,” Liz told her.

Melissa shook her head. “It’s not,” she whispered. “He’s not getting out of here, is he?”

Liz’s throat tightened. “It will be a while.”

“How could he do this? How could he leave us?”

Liz didn’t know what to say.

“He’s still your dad,” she managed to murmur. “He still loves you.”

Melissa swallowed. “Loving us isn’t going to be enough.”

She slowly approached her father, then hugged him.

The three of them settled on a picnic table. Liz hung back, wanting to give them private time together. She sat by herself, reading the book she’d brought, trying to ignore the other reunions going on around her. Some groups were happy, but others were quiet, marked with tears and obvious pain.

About an hour later, Roy walked over to sit next to her.

“They told me that you’re having the house fixed up,” he relayed, avoiding her gaze. “Thanks for that. I got the paperwork that lawyer sent. I’ve already signed it and sent it back.”

She nodded. The house was being put into a trust for the girls.

“When it’s finished, I’ll talk to a real estate agent again and we’ll figure out if it’s better to sell it now and invest the money or keep it and rent it out.”

Roy nodded. “Do whatever you think is best. You were always the smart one in the family.”

“Either way they’ll have money for their future.” They wouldn’t need it for college. If either of her nieces wanted to go, Liz would pay for it herself. She thought about saying that but thought Roy might think she was showing off. The situation was awkward enough already.

“I signed that other paper, too,” her brother told her, looking at her for the first time. “The one making you their legal guardian. I told them that they have to do what you said. Mel’s mad because you want to move them to San Francisco. I told her it was for the best.”

“I doubt she believed you.”

“She’ll get over it. She’s just a kid.” He shifted uneasily. “I was thinking you probably shouldn’t bring them back to see me again. It’s too hard on them.”

Liz had a feeling the person he was most concerned about was himself. “Are you going to write them?”

“Sure. Sure. I sent that one letter.”

“They’ll want to hear from you. You’re their father.”