Star-Crossed Parents. C.J. Carmichael

      “Can you tell me where Jefferson is?”

      He bristled at her tone. A “hello” would have been a nice courtesy. But this woman was clearly in a hurry.

      “You’re in it.” She couldn’t have missed the hand-painted sign just a hundred yards up the road.

      It wasn’t unusual for strangers to have recognized him by now, but this woman’s glance was dismissive and short. She was far more interested in the surrounding countryside than the human being in front of her.

      “But where are the stores?”

      He pointed out the Grocery sign behind him. “Right here. School’s around the bend. So’s the post office and general store.”

      As she processed that, he glanced through the window into her car. A black duffel bag was tossed on the back seat. MapQuest directions were taped to the front dash. He smiled at that. On the front passenger seat, along with a cell phone, lay some crumpled tissues and an empty bottle of water.

      He gave the woman a closer look. There were smudges of mascara under her eyes. Had she been crying? But she didn’t look sad. She looked angry.

      “On holiday?” he asked, though she clearly wasn’t. She was dressed as if she was on her way to a fancy cocktail party, though that couldn’t possibly be the case. Cocktail parties in Jefferson were about as rare as beach parties in the Antarctic.

      “No. I’m looking for Oak Valley Road. Do you know where that is?”

      She was looking for his place? No, he realized suddenly. Josh’ s.

      Now he made the connection. This woman had the same delicate build and coloring of the girl Josh had picked up from the bus earlier.

      She seemed a little young to be Taylor Hartwell’s mother, but Sam would have bet his business that was who she was. The woman was burning off more carbon than any gasoline-sucking combustion engine he’d ever seen.

      She was pissed.

      He thought of the used tissues in her car and amended his assessment. Also upset.

      “Well? Have you heard of it? I hope I didn’t write down the address incorrectly.”

      She looked as if she was about to pull her hair out at that possibility, so he was quick to reassure her. “I’ve heard of it. Actually, it’s my road. My house is there and so is the cabin where my nineteen-year-old son lives.”

      “Your son. Is he Josh Wallace, by any chance?”

      “That’s him.”

      “And you said he’s only nineteen?” Her shoulders relaxed a little. “Well, that’s one thing I don’t have to worry about, at least.”

      “Pardon?”

      “Sorry. I’m just—When I got home from work this afternoon, I found a note from my daughter. She said she’d gone to meet this guy she’d met over the Internet. You can imagine my reaction. She’s only eighteen.”

      Sam swallowed. Yeah, he could imagine her reaction, all right. Good God, what was the matter with Josh? Why hadn’t he told him about this? Sam would have advised him to talk to the girl’s mother, at least.

      “Look, I was about to close up for the night. Why don’t you follow me home and I’ll introduce you.”

      He’d have a word with his son at the same time. So much for the hope that letting Josh have his own place would have a maturing effect. Maybe it had been a mistake to let him move into the guest cabin without agreeing on monthly rent. But Josh’s event-planning business was still in the start-up phase. Once it was in the black, he’d de finitely expect his son to contribute some cash.

      “I GUESS WE SHOULD introduce ourselves before we go any further. I’m Sam Wallace.”

      “Leigh Hartwell.”

      This man made her feel uneasy. Partly it was his size. He was unusually tall and very broad-shouldered. He was also quite attractive, despite a crooked nose and crowded bicuspids.

      Maybe that was the problem. He was uncomfortably good-looking. She’d never been able to trust handsome men. They were too used to getting what they wanted from women.

      Was that what his son was like, too?

      “Right,” she said in the brisk, professional tone she used with patients. “So, let’s get going.” She slipped back behind the wheel, then waited as Sam crossed to the truck parked at the side of the station. A dark-haired teenage boy stepped out from the store and they had a brief conversation. The boy glanced in Leigh’s direction, then headed back to the store where he flipped the sign in the door from Open to Closed.

      Leigh rubbed the back of her neck as she waited. She was relieved that she’d found the right place, and that her daughter was meeting someone her own age and not an older man who preyed on innocent girls.

      Still, there was plenty about the situation she didn’t like. Never mind Taylor skipping out on her own graduation party. Why hadn’t she told her mother where she was going? That note had been a real slap in the face.

      And what kind of kid was this Josh Hartwell? His father seemed respectable enough—not to mention potently attractive—but didn’t you have to wonder about someone who would lure a girl hundreds of miles just to meet on spec?

      Sam hurried back, keys in hand. He got behind the wheel of a black pickup truck and Leigh hurried to follow him. They passed through the four-way stop, then down a hill and up the next rise.

      It was too dark to see much of the surrounding countryside, but Sam drove his truck just under the speed limit, making it easy to follow him. Not that the route was complicated. Oak Valley Road was the second left after the stop sign by the gas station. He could have easily given her directions, rather than going to the effort of escorting her.

      Seconds later they pulled into a narrow access road. The track was bumpy and she tightened her grip on the steering wheel as she followed Sam down yet another hill. He stopped beside a white van with “Party Man” painted in black letters, along with a phone number and a Web address.

      Leigh felt another release of tension as she realized that Taylor’s friend’s moniker referred to a business, not a state of mind.

      Ahead of them stood a two-story home with white siding and black shutters. It looked like a family home and Leigh half expected a woman to step out the front door with a welcoming wave.

      That didn’t happen, though. Sam got out of his truck and came around to open her door. He held out a hand for Leigh as she stepped out of the driver’s seat.

      For a moment they stood close to one another, and Leigh felt a crazy stirring, an attraction she couldn’t deny. As a dentist, she was used to being physically close to people she didn’t know very well. Some of them were handsome men. But she’d never had this sort of reaction to one of them before. She stepped back, not trusting, not liking, this betrayal of her own body.

      “The cabin is just down here.” Sam pointed at a worn path to the left of the house. Thanks to a dim porch light, Leigh could see the outline of a small building amid the trees.

      She let Sam lead the way, her heels causing her no small problem on the uneven ground. As she stumbled along, fear rose in her again. This was true wilderness out here, with no sign of civilization anywhere, beyond the Wallaces’ two homes.

      Once on the wooden porch, Sam glanced back at her. He seemed hesitant about knocking.

      “Hurry up,” she urged him.

      “It’s awfully quiet in there. I’m a little worried….”

      “So am I,” she assured him. Her daughter and his son had been alone for hours. Anything could have happened.

      She tried the door handle and felt a flood of relief when it turned in her hand. She pushed the door wide and stepped