Deadlier Than the Male: The Fiercest Heart / Lethal Lessons. Colleen Thompson

been days ago. He had no idea whether she’d received the letter, or if she was going to come.

      Then he glanced at the clock. It was twenty minutes after two. Seating at the small church would be limited, and while neither Judd nor Lena had large extended families, enough people would show up that he needed to get there soon to get a seat.

      With a reluctant look back at the bedroom he had yet to paint, he went to get his coat and keys. It was a damned cold day for a funeral, but he supposed Judd Shore would no longer be concerned with the weather. The man was most surely in a place where grudges no longer existed.

      Mack ducked his head against the cold wind as he stepped off the porch and headed for his car, and moments later he was on his way to the church.

      Haley arrived in Stars Crossing just before noon, cold and exhausted from the twelve-hour drive. She’d been somewhat disconcerted by how little things had changed but at the same time glad to find there were signs of growth, like the new motel where she’d chosen to stay.

      Even though her mother had undoubtedly sent the letter, Haley was certain she didn’t want to spend the night in the same house with her. And she certainly didn’t want to show up at mealtime. The house was probably filled with extended family, and there was no way she was going to face her mother on her mother’s home ground in the middle of a hostile army.

      Once inside the motel room, she lay down on the bed, set the alarm for two-thirty and then closed her eyes. It seemed like she had just fallen asleep when the alarm went off.

      “Oh, Lord,” she moaned, as her feet hit the floor.

      With less than thirty minutes to dress and get to the church, she dug a makeup bag from her things, shook out the black dress she had packed, then went into the bathroom.

      At first glance she looked like she felt—exhausted and sleep-deprived. However, she might have left Stars Crossing with her tail between her legs, but she wasn’t coming back the same way. She’d grown up and, in the process, grown tougher. If people were going to talk about her—which she fully expected—she intended to look her best, and that black dress and the high heels she’d brought to go with it weren’t going to hurt.

      There was no need to pretend grief for her father’s passing. Her grief had been spent years ago upon realizing that she just didn’t matter to either of her parents.

      But, on the off chance that Mack Brolin was anywhere inside that church, she wanted him to see her for who she was now—a strong and vital woman.

      By choice, Mack was sitting at the back of the church. If Haley did show up, he needed time to get his emotions in order before facing her. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, not the least of which was, I’m sorry.

      The family had just been seated, and the pastor was about to announce the first hymn, when the church doors opened, sending in a blast of cold air.

      All eyes except the widow’s turned as the door slammed shut, and the gasp that came afterward was so loud even Lena Shore turned to look.

      The last thing she had expected to see on this day was the woman walking down the aisle. All Lena could think was, How did Haley find out?

      Every stitch of clothing Haley was wearing had been chosen with one thing in mind: to show her miserable excuse for a family that not only was she fine, she was thriving.

      She knew her height was to her advantage, and with the three-inch black heels she was wearing, she was more than six feet tall. Her long-sleeved black dress buttoned all the way up the front, coming to a halt at a V-neck that covered her shapely breasts—high enough not to be racy, but low enough to accentuate what she’d been blessed with.

      The lanky girl Haley had been was now a woman grown, with the body to match. Her breasts accentuated a slim, well-toned body. She’d left her long, dark hair loose in a cascade of soft waves. The only splash of color was on her lips—those Angelina Jolie lips—which she’d painted fire-engine red.

      She didn’t look to the right or the left as she moved, because her gaze was fixed upon her mother, who had risen to her feet and was standing at the end of the aisle, as if daring her to come any closer.

      From the look on her mother’s face, Haley immediately knew that her appearance was a shock.

       So it wasn’t you who sent the letter. No matter. I’m here, anyway.

      Lena was so shocked she couldn’t move.

      When Haley reached the pews where the family was sitting, no one moved over for her to sit. The old Haley would have turned tail and run. But not this one.

      “Move over, Uncle Saul,” she said shortly.

      And despite the ripple of shock that went through her family, her mother’s brother moved.

      Haley sat without once looking at her mother again.

      Dumbstruck as to what to do next, Lena had but one option. She turned around and resumed her own seat.

      The preacher cleared his throat.

      And the service began.

      The moment people recognized Haley, they turned to look at Mack. He felt their stares but wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of knowing how dumbstruck he felt.

      That grainy newspaper photo hadn’t done her justice. His childhood sweetheart had turned into a knockout.

      Even though it had been ten years—even though the woman who’d just walked down that aisle was as far removed from the girl he’d loved as she could be—he knew he’d done the right thing. No matter how this turned out, there were things he needed to say to Haley Shore.

       Chapter 4

      The funeral was a blur. At first Haley’s heart had been beating so loudly that she hadn’t heard a word the preacher said; then she began to realize that she could feel her mother’s anger as if it was a living, breathing thing.

      And Lena was seething, not only angry that Haley had shown up unannounced, but that the day was no longer about Lena the widow. It had turned into “the prodigal daughter returns.”

      Haley’s first “welcome home” moment came when the congregation began moving down the aisle past the family, passing the casket to pay their respects on their way out the door. Someone squeezed her shoulder, then leaned down and kissed the side of her cheek.

      “So sorry, honey,” the woman said, and then quickly moved past.

      Haley belatedly realized that it was Retta—obviously pregnant and with shorter hair, but once her best friend, just the same. By the time the church had emptied and the only ones left were the family, a good dozen of the congregation had paused to either give her a hug or a kiss, or shake her hand. When her mother suddenly turned and glared at her, Haley didn’t even notice. Her eyes were blurred with unshed tears.

      Then she heard the doors shut and realized they were giving the family some private time before removing the casket and taking it to the cemetery. She wasn’t certain what was going to happen, but there was one thing she knew for sure: this time, she wasn’t going to run.

      Lena didn’t even pretend to be polite. The moment there was no one left inside the sanctuary but the family, she stood and pointed at Haley.

      “What do you think you’re doing, coming back here now, looking like the slut you obviously are?”

      Haley unfolded her long length from the pew and stepped out into the aisle. She glanced at her mother, then arched an eyebrow.

      “Well, I obviously came to my father’s funeral. As to how I look, the DNA came from you and Daddy, so if you don’t like my looks, you have only yourselves to blame … Mommy dearest.”

      Lena was shocked. Where had that cold sarcasm come from? Finally she managed to sputter, “What are you doing here?”

      Haley