She couldn’t tell her friend she was only laughing to keep from bursting into sobs.
What could she do with a man like Sam Delgado except love him, whether she wanted to or not?
“Dylan turned him down, of course,” Charlotte said after a moment when Alex’s laughter subsided. “Quite rudely, from what I understand. I have a feeling that won’t stop Sam.”
“He’s all about persistence, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” Charlotte nibbled her lip again. “Just so you know, I’m the one who invited him to go to the gala tonight. Sort of my way of thanking him for going out of his way to reach out to Dylan and, I don’t know, maybe help Sam settle in to Hope’s Crossing. And, to be honest, because I like him.”
“What’s not to like? He’s a wonderful guy.”
Charlotte pushed a stray lock of hair from her face and Alex wondered at the self-control it must take for her friend to run the best handmade candy store in Colorado and still lose all that weight.
“I do like Sam but...the thing is, I care about our friendship more. I’m new to the whole dating world, yeah, but I’m pretty sure poaching a good friend’s man is a no-no.”
With a few words, she could break up this budding relationship. Charlotte would probably still keep her date for tonight—at this late hour, it would be too rude to break it—but she certainly wouldn’t go out with Sam again.
She thought about it. For a few moments, she was unbelievably tempted. If she told Charlotte she had feelings for Sam, she knew her friend would back off and slip out of the picture without a second thought.
But because she did have feelings for Sam and loved Charlotte dearly, too, she couldn’t do it. She cared about both of them. If they had a chance to find happiness together, she couldn’t be the one to interfere. Even if it seared her insides.
“You’re not poaching anything,” she managed to say without a single quiver in her voice. “Sam is his own man, free to go out with anybody he wants. I’m just thrilled he has the good taste to recognize how fantastic you are.”
“Are you sure?” Charlotte asked, her brow still furrowed with concern.
What more did she need, for crying out loud? A freaking lie detector test?
“Positive,” she answered, with as much sincerity as she could muster. She was trying to come up with something else she could say that might convince Charlotte she had no claim on Sam when her cell phone rang.
Normally she wouldn’t have considered answering it in the middle of an important conversation like this one, but sudden fear clutched at her.
Caroline.
“Hello?” she asked, her stomach suddenly roiling.
“Alex, it’s Helen.”
She had known. Somehow, she had known.
“Caroline is slipping in and out of consciousness,” the hospice nurse said. “You need to come now if you want to say goodbye.”
* * *
“ARE YOU SURE you’re going to be okay to drive home? It’s late.”
Caroline’s big grandfather clock had chimed 1:00 a.m. about ten minutes earlier. The time of death was actually ten-thirty but it had taken all this time to handle the formalities, first the doctor and then the funeral home director.
“I’m fine,” Alex answered, squeezing the hand of the hospice nurse. “Thank you, for everything. You’re a hero.”
Helen managed a watery smile. She had known Caroline all her life, too, and cared for her deeply, especially these last few months of providing end-of-life treatment.
“Get some sleep,” Alex said.
“You, too, dear.”
She nodded, though she knew sleep would be a long time away. She felt scoured raw, like one of the pans in her kitchen.
She locked Caroline’s door with the key, wishing her son had been able to make it back from Japan for the end, but it had happened so suddenly.
One moment Caroline was drinking lemonade on her porch, the next it seemed she was clasping Alex’s hand to say a final goodbye.
At least Ross had spent several days with his mother a few months earlier. It was probably better that way, so he could remember his mother as she had been most of his life instead of the frail shadow she had become at the end.
She walked toward her vehicle down from the porch steps Sam had only just fixed. The storm of the afternoon had blown away and the night was starry and bright, sweet with the promise of summer.
She wanted to walk. To just head off through the darkened streets of Hope’s Crossing and walk and walk and walk until this pain eased, but her car was here and if she left it, she would have to arrange a way to pick it up.
And her dog had been alone far too long today, though she had called one of her neighbors to let him out a few hours ago.