White Picket Fences. Tara Taylor Quinn

had spent the previous semester posing as her sister, teaching classes at the university when she didn’t even have a college degree herself. She’d been driven to this desperate act by her abusive ex-husband, who’d murdered her sister, thinking he’d killed Tory. She was safe only as long as he believed her dead. He couldn’t tolerate the thought of her having a life without him. Eventually he’d committed suicide, and all the deception had come to an end.

      “They aren’t pressing charges,” Tory said, no trace of a smile left on her face.

      “Thank God.” Zack had been keeping his fingers crossed for his friends since he’d first heard the tragic story.

      “That’s not all,” Ben added, with a glance at his wife. “They’ve given Tory a full scholarship to get her degree.”

      “Congratulations!”

      “Thanks.” Tory looked up at Ben, smiling, though her eyes were shadowed. “It’s still kind of hard to take in.”

      “Won’t some of the students who sat in your class last semester wonder why you’re sitting in class with them now?”

      Ben nodded. “The university is going to come out with the whole story—or an abridged version of it—the first week of class. Tory and I have already proofed the copy. They did a really nice job. It’ll be published in the university newspaper, so everyone’ll have a chance to read the story. That way they won’t ask too many questions—we hope.”

      Zack nodded, fully aware that there was much of Tory’s background he didn’t know, might never know, but certain that she deserved these breaks, and more.

      He glanced down the hall toward the master bedroom, making sure that Ben’s daughter wasn’t on her way in.

      “Any word on Alex?” he asked. Ben was in the process of trying to adopt Alex. Though he’d raised her from the day she was born, believed her to be his, had his name on her birth certificate, he’d found out the previous year that he wasn’t Alex’s father at all.

      He’d lost her for a time to her real father, an ex-con who’d taken his belt to the little girl. Ben had gotten her back right before Christmas.

      Ben shook his head.

      “These things take time,” Tory said, her hand reaching for her husband. “We’ve been in almost constant contact with the social worker and a nurse from Alex’s old school. Everything looks really promising.”

      “She’s a very lucky—”

      Zack’s words were interrupted by a knock on the door.

      “Who could that be?” Tory asked, frowning up at Ben.

      Zack turned to see as his younger friend opened the door. He didn’t recognize the older, well-dressed couple standing there.

      “Yes?” Ben asked politely.

      “Are you Ben Sanders?” the man asked. His face was lined but looked friendly. The woman’s lips seemed to be trembling.

      “Yes,” Ben answered immediately. “What can I do for you?”

      Zack wondered if these people had something to do with Alex, maybe grandparents from her mother’s side. They’d better not be there to take the child away from Ben and Tory.

      “We’re James and Carol Montford,” the older gentleman said, his voice hoarse. The aunt and uncle Ben had never met.

      “He looks so much like the pictures of Grace,” Carol said to her husband, her eyes tearing up as she stared at Ben. “And like our Sam.”

      That would be Samuel Montford IV, Cassie’s bastard of an ex-husband and the town founder’s namesake. Zack could only imagine what Ben must be feeling, finally meeting these people who were his only living family. Family meant everything to Ben, and until a few months before, he’d thought himself alone in the world.

      Zack stood up.

      “Won’t you come in?” Tory asked graciously, standing up, too.

      On hearing her voice, Ben turned, glanced back at Tory. His eyes were blazing with emotion.

      “Yes, please come in,” he finally said, pulling the door wider as he stepped aside. “It’s…I—”

      “We won’t stay long,” Carol said gently. “We just couldn’t wait any longer to meet you.”

      “We’ve been away,” Ben explained, showing them to the couch he and Tory had been sharing a short time before. “After the holidays Tory, Alex and I went back to California to get the rest of Alex’s belongings.”

      The Montfords glanced curiously at Tory. “This is our new niece we’ve heard so much about?” Carol asked.

      “Yes.” Ben drew Tory forward, though he released her almost immediately. “This is my wife, Tory.”

      “It’s so nice to meet you,” Tory said, her tone reflecting the manners she’d learned as the wife of one of the richest men on the East Coast. Zack half expected to see her curtsy.

      “It’s nice to meet you, too, dear. Better than nice. The Parsons have told me about you, and I’m thrilled to welcome you into the family. I only wish we could’ve been here for your wedding.” Zack was impressed by how deftly the older woman put Tory at ease. His friend’s wife had lived a hard life and rarely relaxed.

      “We more or less eloped,” Ben threw in.

      “We should give them a proper reception, Carol. The old house could use some livening up.”

      “What a great idea!” Carol exclaimed. “We’ll let you kids get settled back into school and then plan something.” She looked beyond the adults to the empty room behind them. “Is little Alex here?” she asked wistfully. “It’s been so long since we had a child in the family.”

      “She’s in the bedroom playing a video game she got for Christmas,” Tory answered. “I’ll go get her.”

      As Tory left the room, Zack took the opportunity to excuse himself. Ben had been without family virtually his entire life. He deserved these moments alone with the couple who seemed completely ready to become the parents he’d never had.

      There were times when life actually turned out right.

      SHE COULDN’T GO. Someone would have to call him and tell him she wasn’t going.

      Randi paced from her closet to the full-length mirror in her bathroom, looking at herself in her standard gym shorts and T-shirt, her white socks and tennis shoes. She wasn’t date material. She was too strong, too aggressive.

      She didn’t know how to be sweet and gushy and girlish.

      She couldn’t go.

      She’d barely slept the night before, tossing and turning. She couldn’t relax, couldn’t get Zack Foster off her mind. He’d caused sensations in her that she didn’t recognize. Had made her think about things she didn’t usually bother with. Sex, for instance.

      She’d never obsessed about a man in her life.

      And when she had drifted off, she’d had a horrible dream about sitting in a restaurant, being herself, enjoying herself, and glancing up to see a look of revulsion on Zack Foster’s face. Which alternated with indifference.

      She couldn’t go.

      Her hair was okay. She had to keep it short so it didn’t get in the way, but there was style to it. Bounce and casual curl. And the streaks of light blond mixed in with the darker blond were all natural. Her eyes were probably her best feature. Chocolate-brown—they were her older brother Will’s eyes. She was proud to have them.

      With one last look at herself, Randi turned her back on her reflection and grabbed the phone from the nightstand in her bedroom.

      “Becca?” she said as soon