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  Always and Forever

  Cheryl Pierson

  Always and Forever by Cheryl Pierson

  Copyright © 2011 by Cheryl Pierson

  Cover Design Livia Reasoner

  Fire Star Press

  www.firestarpress.com

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  At a children's Halloween carnival, a Gypsy fortuneteller predicts a new love for both Cindy and Gage. When the two meet over a poorly carved pumpkin, love flickers to life and the stars begin to align.

  But the odds of finding a new love later in life seem insurmountable, and the prophecy seems too good to be true. After all, Gage has been burned before and Cindy doesn't believe in fortunes or second chances.

  Will doubt overshadow their attraction or has love already been set in motion? Can the star-crossed pair put their faith in the love that was foretold? Can they believe in each other?

  Chapter One

  “I'm sorry, Jack.” Cindy Taylor looked down at her six-year-old grandson, then glanced again at the sad excuse for a jack-o-lantern they were trying to carve together. Winning the school carnival pumpkin judging competition was going to be out of their reach tonight, Cindy thought ruefully. “I guess I'm out of practice. It's been a lot of years since I did this last.”

  Jack patted her arm seriously. “It's all right, Nana. It's been a long time since you had a kid. You'll do better next year.” But Cindy could see the disappointment in her grandson's features—the deep brown eyes and square chin that reminded her so much of his father it hurt.

  The school gymnasium had been transformed with colored lanterns and Halloween decorations in orange, black, and purple hues. Crepe paper streamers hung across the rafters and cutouts of witches, spiders, and black cats were attached at different heights.

  The school principal, Mr. Jameson, and several of the teachers were in costume around the room, distributing candy, and hosting the activities and games. Cindy had even brought herself to enter the gypsy fortune teller's booth earlier, pushing aside the feeling of unreasoning trepidation. Thankfully, her “fortune” proved so ludicrous she'd barely managed to keep from laughing before she exited the small enclosure. Finding a second chance at love at her age was a miracle not even a real gypsy could arrange.

  “Really,” Jack said, fidgeting beside her now. “It looks...all right.”

  Jack's attempt at comforting her brought a lump to her throat. As much as she'd lost this past year, he had lost more. Her son and daughter-in-law had been killed in a car accident. Jack had lost his entire world. And now, he was trying to console her over the tacky job she'd done of pumpkin carving.

  This was supposed to be fun. An alternative to going door-to-door for treats. A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she remembered past Halloween holidays. Her son, Brian, had always loved this holiday above all others. But for her, the noise of the crowded room suddenly seemed overwhelming. She wanted it to be over, and she wanted to be someplace soothing. Someplace quiet.

  “Nana? Is it all right if I go over there?”

  A group of boys stood waiting their turn to go into the inflatable castle. Cindy smiled. “Sure. You go ahead, sweetie. I'll see if I can't make ol' Snaggletooth, here, a bit more presentable.”

  “Jack!”

  He turned at the excited voice, a smile lighting his face. “Star!” He ran forward and grabbed his classmate by the hand. Jack pulled the girl toward her, and Cindy bent low as he introduced them.

  “Nana, this is my very best friend, Star Ross. She's the one I told you about that can play the wooden flute, and she makes up her own music, too!”

  Cindy looked into the girl's face. Her Indian heritage was evident in the high cheekbones, dark eyes, and her coal black hair.

  “And she can dance!”

  Cindy couldn't help but laugh at Jack's enthusiasm. “Hello, Star. I'm Jack's grandmother.”

  “Wow. You don't seem like a grandmother!” The smile never left Star's face. “You're too young. And pretty!”

  Before Cindy could reply, a male voice interrupted. “Hey, where's my girl gotten off to?” Cindy looked up to see a tall, muscular man coming toward them. There was no doubt he was related to Star. His black eyes flashed with the same mischievous glint, his skin the same gorgeous olive color as Star's.

  “Hey, Jack!” He reached to shake Jack's hand as he joined them.

  “I'm Star's dad, Gage Ross.” He gave Cindy a slow smile, extending his hand to her. She took it, mesmerized, barely remembering her manners at the last second.

  “Cindy Taylor. I'm...uh, Jack's—” She broke off, suddenly hating the word ‘grandmother'. There was only one word worse in her book, and Jack chose that particular time to use it.

  “This is my granny, Mr. Ross. I just call her Nana, though.”

  Cindy couldn't remember ever wanting a roll of duct tape as badly as she did right at the moment. She felt the flush burning her neck and face in record time.

  Gage seemed to understand. He regarded her gravely, not glancing at Jack. “You have a lovely Nana, Jack. Thank you for the introduction.”

  “Can we go now?” Jack asked. “I see Derek over there.”

  “Sure,” Cindy answered softly. She glanced down to give Jack a reminder to be careful, only to find that he and Star were already halfway across the gym floor.

  “I've been waiting a long time to meet you,” Gage said. “Seems like forever.”

  Cindy gave him a questioning look, and he laughed. “I know, school's only been in session for a little over two months now, but Jack and I have become fast friends. He talks about you a lot. He and Star are close, and I spend a lot of time here volunteering.”

  A guilty pang shot through Cindy's heart. There was no reason she couldn't have spent more time volunteering here, herself. No reason other than the fact that she still hadn't managed to get herself together after Brian's death six months earlier. Jack seemed to be doing a better job of it than she was, she thought ruefully.

  “What do you do? Here, I mean? When you volunteer—” The flurry of questions sounded silly. She stopped and bit her lip. It was always this way when she got nervous. She seemed to speak before she thought. But with Gage's dark, all-seeing eyes pinning her, rooting her to the spot where she stood, it stood to reason she'd be flustered. On top of everything, she suddenly realized how totally ridiculous she must look, the plastic pumpkin scoop in one hand, and the evidence of her poor efforts at carving a jack-o-lantern on the makeshift plywood table beside her.

  Gage's lips quirked. “I do a lot of things, when I'm able to be here. School funding has been cut back so much they can always use an extra pair of hands. And I'm not picky. I do everything from fixing the floor buffer to test monitoring.”

  “A man of many skills.” Cindy glanced down at the pumpkin self-consciously. “I don't suppose, by any chance, that you're also an expert pumpkin sculptor?”

  Gage chuckled and stepped forward, bending to examine the pumpkin. He whistled low and heaved a sigh, turning the orange globe toward the light then picking it up to have a closer look. “Wow.”

  Cindy had to laugh at his perplexed expression. “I know. It's bad. I never was any good at that, even when Brian was—” Unexpected tears threatened and she turned away. Gage laid a strong hand on her shoulder. For some reason, it seemed right to turn back toward him, into the shelter of his arms.

  “I'm sorry,” she mu
ttered. His arms closed around her, holding her close to his body. She savored the feeling of being held. With a shock, she realized how she had missed that—the need for a simple touch. But there was nothing “simple” about it. Her entire body tingled as she became aware of being enfolded by the powerful, tight-muscled embrace of the first man to touch her like this since her divorce eight years earlier.

  He smelled good. All male. The scent of wood smoke and the outdoors seemed to be part of his very essence. For an instant, she wanted nothing so much as to melt into this stranger's hard chest. She began to pull away reluctantly, getting control of her emotions, stiffening her spine.

  “Don't be sorry,” he said in a quiet voice. “Jack told me about his mom and dad. Hey, I didn't mean to embarrass you, Cindy. It was a normal reaction on my part.” He stepped back, his eyes warm with laughter again as he tried to lighten the moment. “Pretty dumb-looking, if you ask me. Hugging you with a pumpkin in my hand.” He set it down on the table and picked up a carving tool. “No, ma'am, you do not have to supervise,” he joked, his attention given once more to correcting her carving attempts. “I actually am pretty good at this, and believe me, I'm well past six years old.”

  Cindy gave a short laugh. He was giving her a chance to regain the composure that had crumbled and deserted her moments ago. If she allowed herself to think about his kindness, the tears would come again. She focused instead on the unfamiliar dawning sense of contentment she felt in his presence, and searched for a safe topic.

  “Star is a beautiful girl. I know you're proud of her.” She reached to hand him one of the tools which lay near the edge of the table.

  He pulled a chunk of pumpkin out and threw it into a nearby trashcan. “I am. I try to help out here as much as I can since I work a lot of evenings.” He glanced up at her, seeing the next question in her face. “Oklahoma City Fire Department. This is one of my nights off.”

  Cindy nodded. “I'm sure being a fire fighter is a thankless job. Lots of long hours—”

  He gave her a quick grin. “I don't mind. Just want Star to have the best.” He made another cut on the pumpkin. “What do you do?”

  Cindy didn't answer immediately. What do I do? She felt as if she'd been living in a fog for the past six months since Brian's death. She'd been so focused on her own grief at losing her son that she'd forgotten how to live.

  “After my son and daughter-in-law were killed—well, Jack had no one but me.” She steadied her voice as Gage looked up at her from where he knelt on the floor. “He came to live with me last April, when—after the accident.”

  “That's tough, Cindy. I'm sorry.”

  She nodded and looked down. “Thank you.” Mustering a smile, she met his eyes once more. “Anyhow, before that, I worked in the corporate office here for South Wind Media.”

  “Glamorous.”

  “Not really.” She smiled at his assessment. “Stressful, was more like it. I'm glad to be able to be here for Jack right now.” She glanced at the inflatable castle just as Jack and his friends emerged and headed for the next station, a ring toss game.

  Gage stood up, his gaze following hers to the children before he bent to put the final touches on the jack-o-lantern. “I know what you mean. When my ex-wife left, I had to take a leave of absence to stay home with Star. She was afraid I would disappear, too.” He shook his head in remembrance. “That was a hard time. But we made it.”

  Watching Star now, there was no evidence of uncertainty or insecurity. Gage had seemingly worked a miracle with his daughter. “How long ago has that been?”

  “Two years. But emotionally, Tara'd already been gone from us a lot longer than that. To tell the truth, it was a relief when she finally said goodbye and moved in with her boyfriend. He was a lot younger than me. A lot younger than her too. But we got started late, having a family. Good thing, as it turned out, although I always thought—” He shrugged. “I always thought I'd like to have more than one. Star gets lonely sometimes.” He shot a glance toward the front hall where the fortune teller's stall was located. “According to the gypsy, I'm not done yet.” His lips quirked up. “Though, at forty-five, I think she may have gotten my future confused with someone else's.”

  Cindy grinned. “I think she's got a few good lines she uses on everyone.”

  “You went in?”

  Cindy nodded, embarrassed. “Yeah. But once I got inside there I was sorry I went. She's...pretty realistic. Kinda scary.”

  Gage's lips thinned as he concentrated on redeeming the jack-o-lantern. After a moment, he looked up at Cindy. “Come on. You're not worried about your fortune, are you?”

  “Heavens, no!” She gave a short laugh. “Supposedly, I'm to have a second chance at love very soon.” She rolled her eyes.

  Gage didn't laugh. His gaze remained intent upon her. “You don't believe in love, Cindy?”

  She felt her cheeks begin to burn under his steady perusal. “I know it's out there. But...maybe it's second chances I don't believe in, Gage. At least, not for me.”

  He looked down, perplexed, and then raked a hand through his dark hair. “It's crazy in here. Do you want to go get some ice cream or something? After they get done with the games and judge the jack-o-lanterns? I mean...”

  He looked as if he wanted to take back the invitation as soon as he spoke it.

  Cindy smiled at him. “You look scared to death.”

  He laughed outright. “I am. I swore off women two years ago, when Tara walked out.”

  “You're safe with me. Remember, I'm Jack's granny.” She pulled a face as she said it.

  “Best looking granny I've ever seen,” he teased. A look of peace settled in Gage's dark features as he sobered. “Just be gentle with me, Cindy. This ol' heart's still pretty bruised.”

  Unthinking, she reached out and laid a hand on his arm. It seemed as if it were the most natural thing to do. As she touched the soft cotton material, felt the tension in his muscles, then the relaxation seconds later, she knew it had been the right thing, too.

  “It's okay, Gage. No matter what happens, it's okay.”

  He put his hand over hers and squeezed a tender thanks. “Would I be right in guessing you're a chocolate and caramel sundae kind of girl?”

  * * * * *

  Later as they sat in the hard plastic booths of the nearby Kone King, Gage watched Cindy delicately eat the caramel and hot fudge sundae.

  “This is wonderful,” she said, flashing him a smile. “I'm glad we came.”

  “Me too!” Jack added enthusiastically. “We don't eat ice cream much.” He turned his attention back to the strawberry sundae.

  Gage smiled at Cindy's sudden look of concern. Jack's offhand statement had hit home. “Well, maybe we can come down here once in a while. Get a little more ice cream into you in the future. They say boys need more of that than girls.”

  “Daddy, that isn't true!” Star declared, laughing.

  “Girls have to be more careful or they can't get into their clothes,” Cindy murmured quietly.

  “Star'll dance off her calories,” Gage replied.

  Cindy laid her spoon down. “She takes dance lessons?”

  “Of sorts. She's learning our dances.” At her puzzled look, he added, “The Cherokee.”

  “Tribal dances. Wow, that's amazing.”

  Gage could see the fascination in Cindy's blue eyes. He tried to keep his tone neutral, but the interest she showed excited him. It wasn't often a woman like this came along—one who was so selfless, so caring—and who exhibited it in thousands of small ways that couldn't be numbered. A thoughtful hand on his daughter's shoulder, the way she encouraged Jack as he spoke, and the understanding between himself and her when she looked at him.

  “She's a natural for it,” he said, winking at Star.

  “Daddy won't be dancing this time,” Star said matter-of-factly. She took a red gummy bear off the top of her ice cream and popped it in her mouth.

  “Really?” Cindy asked, shooting Gage a quic
k look. “Why not?”

  “Star—”

  But Star ignored him as she plucked another gummy bear from the side of the cup and held it up to examine it before eating it. “On account of his sore ribs. He got hurt at work, but he saved the puppies and their mama.”

  Gage sighed heavily, wondering when Star had become so talkative. She liked Cindy, or she wouldn't be telling her everything she knew. “Okay, my secret's out.”

  Cindy met his eyes, and he felt as if he were falling into those blue pools of concern. It had been a long, long time since a woman had worried for him.

  “What puppies?” She held Gage's look as Star rattled on.

  “In the burning house. They were trapped and my dad chopped through the door and got them all out.” She beamed happily, and Gage looked down.

  He was no hero, but Star made him sound like Superman or something. Which he wasn't. But when Cindy looked at him like she was right now, he damn sure felt like he wanted to be.

  “What dance is your favorite, Star?” Cindy asked, a gentle note in her voice.

  “The jingle dance—but the dress is really heavy.”

  “Oh, I wish I could see you!”

  “Really?” Gage asked in a low voice. “If you're interested, you could go with us this weekend. We have a family powwow in Tahlequah.” The invitation was out before he thought about it. And before he could say another word, Cindy reached across the table and took his hand in hers.

  “I would love that.” In her eyes, Gage saw she meant what she said. She truly was eager to see those old tribal dances he held sacred. And in that moment, he realized Cindy Taylor was already more a part of who he was than Tara had been during their four years of marriage.

  “You're on, lady. I hope you like camping.”

  “I do!” Jack interrupted.

  Cindy laughed and ruffled his hair. She shrugged as she looked at Gage. “I've never been camping. But I know I'll like it. There's no doubt.”

  He'd see to that. Suddenly, more than anything, he wanted Cindy Taylor to like everything about the experience. Most of all, he wanted her to love being with him. He needed to start trusting someone again sometime. It might as well be her.