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Secrets of a Small Town
Patricia Kay
THE ULTIMATE BETRAYALSabrina March's safe little life had one cornerstone–her dad. Then he died in her arms. Sabrina was devastated, but she knew in her heart that someday she would find a man like her father and live happily ever after.So when Sabrina learned her father had lived a double life–complete with another "wife" and family–her trust in men was shattered.Until she met Greg Antonelli–the man of her dreams…or her nightmares. Greg swept her into a secret affair that left her breathless. But how could she bear to be with him? His sister had been Sabrina's father's other woman. Was Sabrina willing to risk everything for Greg and the chance to make her dream come true?
Dearest Sabrina, she read.
This is hard for me to write, and I know it will be painful for you to read. There’s no easy way to say it, so I’ll just say it outright.
Six years ago I fell in love with a woman I met while conducting a tour in Italy. I couldn’t seem to help myself. I know she would never keep seeing me if she knew I was married, so I pretended I wasn’t. I told her I was divorced.
After we’d been seeing each other for a while, she began to press me for a commitment. I tried, but I couldn’t give her up. So we got married.
I am so sorry for the hurt I’ve caused you,
Love,
Dad
Married!
Daddy, how could you have done this to us?
Dear Reader,
As you take a break from raking those autumn leaves, you’ll want to check out our latest Silhouette Special Edition novels! This month, we’re thrilled to feature Stella Bagwell’s Should Have Been Her Child (#1570), the first book in her new miniseries, MEN OF THE WEST. Stella writes that this series is full of “rough, tough cowboys, the strong bond of sibling love and the wide-open skies of the west. Mix those elements with a dash of intrigue, mayhem and a whole lot of romance and you get the Ketchum family!” And we can’t wait to read their stories!
Next, Christine Rimmer brings us The Marriage Medallion (#1567), the third book in her VIKING BRIDES series, which is all about matrimonial destiny and solving secrets of the past. In Jodi O’Donnell’s The Rancher’s Daughter (#1568), part of popular series MONTANA MAVERICKS: THE KINGSLEYS, two unlikely soul mates are trapped in a cave…and find a way to stay warm. Practice Makes Pregnant (#1569) by Lois Faye Dyer, the fourth book in the MANHATTAN MULTIPLES series, tells the story of a night of passion and a very unexpected development between a handsome attorney and a bashful assistant. Will their marriage of convenience turn to everlasting love?
Patricia Kay will hook readers into an intricate family dynamic and heart-thumping romance in Secrets of a Small Town (#1571). And Karen Sandler’s Counting on a Cowboy (#1572) is an engaging tale about a good-hearted teacher who finds love with a rancher and his young daughter. You won’t want to miss this touching story!
Stay warm in this crisp weather with six complex and satisfying romances. And be sure to return next month for more emotional storytelling from Silhouette Special Edition!
Happy reading!
Gail Chasan
Senior Editor
Secrets of a Small Town
Patricia Kay
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
This book is dedicated to all the wonderful people in Struthers, Ohio, the small town where I grew up. You’re the best!
PATRICIA KAY,
formerly writing as Trisha Alexander, is the USA TODAY bestselling author of more that thirty contemporary romances. She has three grown children, three adored grandchildren and lives in Houston, Texas, with her husband and their three cats. To learn more about her, visit her Web site at www.patriciakay.com.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter One
Sabrina March leaned back in her chair and sighed with satisfaction. “The chicken and dumplings were wonderful, as usual.” She smiled at Florence Hillman, her parents’ longtime housekeeper, who had begun to clear the table.
“Glad you enjoyed them.” Florence’s return smile was affectionate.
“I believe I enjoyed them far too much,” Sabrina’s father said, patting his stomach. “What do you say we go for a walk, Sabrina? Work off some of these calories.” Turning to Sabrina’s mother, he said, “You don’t mind, do you, dear?”
Isabel March’s gray eyes seemed, if anything, to grow frostier, but after a moment, she shook her head. “As long as you’re not gone too long.” Under her breath, she added, “I get little enough of your time.”
As always, Ben March ignored her critical comment, and his voice was gentle as he replied, “I’ll be back in an hour, no longer.”
Sabrina’s father, who was the CEO of his tour company, was due to leave on an extended trip—this time to Greece, Sabrina thought—early the following morning. His expertise lay in finding new areas to tour, then negotiating the best deals with hotels, restaurants and tourist attractions. March Tours wasn’t a large company, but it was very successful in the high-end tour business. That success was directly attributable to her father’s work ethic, which had translated into long absences from home.
These absences had been hard on Sabrina and her mother, so Sabrina sympathized with her mother’s wish to have more of her father’s attention. Even so, she couldn’t help being glad she’d have a little time alone with him today. She loved her mother, but she adored her father.
When he was home, there was an excitement and cheer that was in short supply at other times. There was no one she respected more. In Sabrina’s eyes, Ben seemed the ideal man: honest, hardworking, loyal, generous and loving. The past sixteen years couldn’t have been easy ones for him, but he had never complained. In fact, his behavior had been an inspiration to her.
With only a nod to indicate she’d heard him, Sabrina’s mother pushed back from the table. Her motorized wheelchair—the best money could buy—moved as silently as a cloud. If only her mother hadn’t had that accident sixteen years ago, things might have been so different. She might have been different.
Sometimes Sabrina thought she couldn’t stand her mother’s unhappiness and bitterness another day. And then, as soon as the thought formed, she felt guilty for the selfishness of it. After all, it couldn’t be easy for her mother who, before the skiing accident that had cost her the use of her legs, had been athletic and active. To compensate for these occasional uncharitable feelings, Sabrina tried to be doubly attentive and compassionate toward her mother.
“Ready?” her father said now, rising from the table.
Sabrina nodded, eager to be outside in the fresh October air.
Once they were in her father’s car and on their way, he said, “Have you done any more thinking about your job since we last talked, honey?”
Sabrina sighed. “Yes, but I haven’t come up with any answers.”
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Do you want me to talk to your mother about it?”
For just one weak moment, Sabrina was tempted. Then she sighed again. “No, Dad. This is my problem. I appreciate that you’re willing to do it, but I have to handle this myself.”
Sabrina was the publisher of The Rockwell Record, the daily newspaper, which had been founded by her great-grandfather, Francis Kipling Rockwell. From the time she was old enough to understand what a newspaper was, she’d wanted to work there. But her vision had been romantic. She’d seen herself as a reporter or as the editor. She’d never wanted to run the business, to be the one who would hire and fire, the one who would have all the practical and financial worries. Yet since her Uncle Frank had retired, she was the only Rockwell left to head the paper. More and more, she’d had to leave the reporting and editing to others. For the past year, she’d been torn by a sense that her life had somehow gotten out of her control. And she felt powerless to change that.
“If I wasn’t gone so much, and you didn’t have the responsibility of your mother, too…” her father began.
“It’s not your fault. I don’t want you to feel guilty. You know Mom would be very unhappy if you didn’t bring in the kind of money you do. Besides, it wouldn’t matter. She expects certain things of me, and that wouldn’t change even if you were home all the time.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m okay. Really I am. Now, let’s talk about something else.”
Ten minutes later, car parked, Sabrina and her father began to climb the hill leading to the flower gardens of the park, which was their favorite place to walk. The path was strewn with brightly hued leaves from the maple trees that lined the walkway. Sabrina took a deep, appreciative breath. She loved autumn. It was her favorite season.
“Did you hear about what happened to Shorty Carwell last—” She stopped in mid-question. “Dad?”
Her father had abruptly stopped walking and was gripping his chest.
“Dad?” she said more urgently. “What’s wrong?”
He grimaced. “Just…just a bit of…indigestion. Shouldn’t have had that second helping of dumplings.”
“Are you sure?” Sabrina didn’t like his color. Normally her father’s complexion was ruddy, but right now he looked pale. “Maybe we should go home.”
He shook his head. “No, I’m fine. It’s just indigestion. Walking will be good for me.”
“But—”
“It’s okay. I feel fine now.” Smiling, he held out his arm.
Although Sabrina took it, she couldn’t banish the kernel of anxiety that had knotted in her stomach. Maybe it was just her questioning nature—so valuable to a reporter—but his smile seemed strained to her. Yet he seemed determined to act as if nothing had happened, so she forced a lightness into her voice that she didn’t feel.
“What time is your flight tomorrow?”
“Noon.”
“So you’ll be leaving early.”
Her father always flew out of Cleveland rather than Akron, which was closer to Rockwell, because there were more flights to choose from. When Ben didn’t immediately answer, she looked at him sharply. Alarm caused her heart to lurch. His face was now a ghostly white, and beads of perspiration stood out on his upper lip, although the late afternoon air was chilly. “Dad! You’re not all right!”
“I—” He staggered back. Clutched his chest. His eyes met hers for one panicked moment. Then, with a strangled cry, he collapsed on to the walkway.
Sabrina lunged for him, but she couldn’t hold on—he was too heavy. With a calmness she later marveled at, she whipped out her cell phone and punched in 911, as she sank to her knees and put two shaking fingers of her other hand against her father’s carotid artery. She swallowed. There was no pulse. Dear God.
The moment she’d finished giving the emergency dispatcher the information that would bring an ambulance and EMT personnel to the park, she began CPR. Thank God she’d taken the lifesaving course only months earlier, as part of a series she’d done on emergency facilities in the area; otherwise, she wouldn’t have had any idea how to go about trying to revive him.
“Dad, please be okay. Please be okay.”
Over and over she pleaded with him even as exhaustion began to make it harder and harder to keep going. Again and again she went through the cycle she’d been taught. Fifteen compressions followed by two slow breaths into his mouth. Recheck his pulse. Fifteen more compressions, two slow breaths. Check the pulse.
By now she was sobbing with fright and frustration. No matter what she did, he still wasn’t breathing! Where was that ambulance?
Please hurry, she prayed. Please hurry.
Finally she heard the wail of the siren, faint at first, then louder and louder as it pulled into the parking lot below.
Within moments, three EMTs converged on her. Strong hands moved her aside, and the technicians took over.
The next ten minutes were a blur. Sabrina watched numbly as the EMT personnel worked on her father. When one of them—a stocky dark-haired man who seemed to be in charge—called for the defibrillators, Sabrina bit her lip to keep from crying out.
Please, God. Please don’t let him die. I need him.
She watched in agony, wincing each time they shocked her father’s heart.
And then, in a slow-motion moment Sabrina knew she would remember the rest of her life, the dark-haired EMT raised his head.
“It’s no use,” he said, looking at the other two.
“No!” Sabrina cried.
The female EMT turned to her. “I’m so sorry.” Her dark eyes were filled with sympathy. “There’s nothing else we can do. He’s gone.”
Sabrina stared at them. Her father couldn’t be dead. He was only fifty-eight years old. He was way too young to die. “Daddy…” Tears ran down her face. “Daddy.”
The female EMT stood, putting an arm around Sabrina’s shoulder. She led Sabrina to a nearby bench. “Is there anyone I can call for you?” she asked kindly.
Sabrina numbly shook her head. Her father had no family. His parents were dead, and he had been an only child. And her mother…dear God, her mother…
“Are you sure?”
Sabrina wasn’t sure about anything. “M-my mother’s in a wheelchair. I—I have to go there and…and tell her.” Oh, dear heaven. What was going to happen to them? How would her mother handle this?
“Is there any other family? Someone who can be with you so you don’t have to do this alone?”
There was only her mother’s brother Frank, but he was in poor health and retired with his wife in Florida, and her Aunt Irene, her mother’s sister, who lived with her family in Savannah. Sabrina bit her trembling lip. Casey. Casey would come.
“I—I’ll call a friend,” she finally managed. Casey Hudson had been her best friend since high school, the closest friend she’d ever had.
The moment she heard Casey’s voice, Sabrina broke down. Gently the EMT—whose name tag identified her as J. Kovalsky—took the cell phone out of her hand. In soft tones, she explained the situation. By the time Sabrina had regained control of herself, the phone call had been disconnected.
“Your friend said she’d be here in ten minutes.”
Sabrina sat numbly as the two male EMTs loaded her father’s inert body onto a rolling stretcher that they placed in the ambulance. “Wh-where will you take him?”
