A Place To Call Home

Jeremy felt bliss spread to every part of his body…into his soul.

Her eyes were closed, and her lovely face glowed. He brushed her curls from her face and kissed her brow, her temple, unable to stop touching her.

For the first time in his life, his body had gone beyond the command of his mind. Odd, but he didn’t feel a need for caution, as he usually did when a relationship threatened to become too intense. Instead, a welter of emotions coursed through him and he tried to sort them all out.

Tenderness?

Yeah.

Wonder?

That, too.

Confusion?

Definitely.

Dear Reader,

It is so difficult to leave a family, even a made-up one, whose lives I have been writing about for more than a year. From my own extended family as well as my husband’s, I enjoy watching our young ones grow up and flex their wings, while they establish careers and find their special person. I just never get tired of a complicated (as all matters of the heart tend to be) love story and seeing the hero/heroine coming to grips with their personal demons as well as learning to trust their hearts… Uh-oh, I’m getting all choked up. Anybody got a hankie?

Best,

A Place to Call Home

Laurie Paige

www.millsandboon.co.uk

LAURIE PAIGE

“One of the nicest things about writing romances is researching locales, careers and ideas. In the interest of authenticity, most writers will try anything…once.” Along with her writing adventures, Laurie has been a NASA engineer, a past president of the Romance Writers of America, and is a mother and a grandmother. She was twice a Romance Writers of America RITA® Award finalist for Best Traditional Romance and has won awards from Romantic Times BOOKreviews for Best Silhouette Special Edition and Best Silhouette, in addition to appearing on the USA TODAY bestseller list. Recently resettled in Northern California, Laurie is looking forward to whatever experiences her next novel will provide.

Dedicated to all those who have reached a certain

age, in which case it’s “about the diamonds.”

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter One

Zia Peters couldn’t have been more startled when the familiar voice of Jeremy Aquilon greeted her outside the Residential Hotel of Vernal, Utah, as she climbed wearily out of her compact car.

“Jeremy,” she said blankly, staring as if she couldn’t quite recall who he was and managing to drop her keys and purse at the same time.

But of course she did know him. He was part of her “blended” family. When Jeremy’s uncle, Jeff, had taken in Jeremy and his two younger stepcousins—the cousins, a brother and sister, were underage and wards of the state—her mother had been assigned to the case…and ended up married to the orphans’ guardian.

That had been fourteen years ago. While her mother had fitted in perfectly with the Aquilons, Zia, at nineteen, hadn’t felt part of their family, or any family, not since her dad had walked out when she was four.

She summoned a smile as Jeremy stopped beside her. “What are you doing here?” she asked, the surprise obvious in her voice, not to mention other emotions she couldn’t define. She picked up her purse and tossed the keys inside.

“Waiting for you?” he suggested with a humorous lilt in his smooth baritone.

He had no idea how those words reached down and stirred a pot of turbulent emotion inside her. No one waited for her, and that was a fact. Chiding herself for the flash of self-pity, she maintained a pleasant expression, aware that his appearance was having a keen impact on her senses.

His hair gleamed shiny black in the sun as he ambled down the porch steps. The June breeze lifted the perpetual wave that curved over his forehead. The wayward lock looked silky soft as he brushed it to the side, unlike the hard, sinewy lines of his six-two body.

The playful wind also carried the scent of balsam and aftershave, as if he’d recently stepped out of the shower. His jawline, strong and angular, was smoothly shaved. An instinctive urge to test that smoothness had her drawing back in shock at the impulse.

His face was tanned from days working in the sun, his eyes were dark and he exuded a controlled masculinity, a quiet assurance that hinted at thoughts not spoken, depths not plumbed. All her friends had found him intriguing on the infrequent occasions when she and Jeremy had visited the Aquilon home at the same time during their college years.

As a civil engineer working for the state of Utah, he supervised the building of roads and bridges. She knew him as an unruffled solver of life’s problems, large or small. He’d come to the rescue of his cousins when he’d hardly been more than a boy himself, and he’d helped her through a rough patch once, a time that she’d rather forget. Neither of them ever referred to it.

Sorrow and regret, mixed with shame, embarrassment and other feelings too painful to sort out, flashed through her.

She shoved aside the emotions and popped open the trunk of her car. Matching his amused tone, she quipped, “Your crystal ball works better than mine. I wasn’t sure what time I was going to make it in due to all the road construction going on.”

“It’s summer. We have to get as much done as possible.”

He shrugged and reached past her to lift out her largest piece of luggage as if it weighed no more than her overnight case, which she removed from the trunk. He also took the medium one before she could grab it, his arm brushing hers as he did.

“Seriously, how did you know I was coming today?” she asked.

“Seriously,” he replied, still with the note of humor, “your mom called just before I left the office. She said you’d called on your cell phone and reported you were about thirty miles from town but stuck in traffic. She was worried you wouldn’t get in before dark. I told her the delay wasn’t more than fifteen minutes.” He paused. “I said I’d make sure you arrived okay.”

His gaze took in the last rays of sunlight on the western horizon before returning to her.

Suppressing annoyance that her mother had thought it necessary to contact Jeremy and ask him to check on her, she said brightly, “I’m fine.” She hesitated, then added, “I thought you were working on a bridge in the Desolation Canyon area.”

She knew he had a cabin near town, one he’d bought three years ago and was remodeling as he got time. Normally, he lived in an RV or temporary barracks at the construction site while on a job. Her new position as the county curriculum director would keep her busy at the school headquarters in town. She figured they wouldn’t run into each other often.

“Do you have a project in this area now?” she asked when he didn’t say anything.

His grin was brilliant enough to stop traffic. “You might say so. Vernal is the DOT’s district headquarters for this region, and I’m the new district manager. I’ll be at the office a lot, except when I’m in the field checking on progress. Or problems, as the case may be.”

DOT was the Department of Transportation. She hadn’t realized they would have a regional office in a town of eight thousand people. Industry here mostly consisted of services for travelers on Highway 40, the government offices of the county seat, businesses serving the ranchers, Indian reservations and forestry service in the surrounding area or outfitters catering to adventurers who came for fishing, hunting or rafting through Desolation Canyon on the Green River.

The biggest attraction was Dinosaur National Monument which straddled the border between Utah and Colorado. A huge pink dinosaur on Main Street welcomed people to the town.

“That’s wonderful,” she said sincerely. “Congratulations on the promotion. Uh, did you mention this when we were home for the wedding two weeks ago?”

He shook his head. “Truthfully, I didn’t think I had a chance at the position, so there was no point in talking about it.”

His stepcousin, Krista, had married into a very old, very wealthy Colorado family on the first Saturday of June.

Zia truly hoped the twenty-five-year-old found happiness in her marriage. Krista, an eleven-year-old when Jeff and Caileen wed, had readily welcomed Zia as a roommate when Zia had visited during college breaks.

Hero worship was something she didn’t deserve, but Krista hadn’t known that. The girl had been sweet and trusting and had asked Zia for advice as a youngster would of a much-admired older friend. If only she’d been the person Krista thought she was—wise and generous and kind. If only she could turn back the clock and be that person. Yeah, if only….

Zia sighed as she headed for the hotel lobby to sign in.

“Tired?” Jeremy asked companionably.

He was being polite. She knew that, but for a second, she pictured a different welcome, one in which the man of her dreams rushed out to greet her and sweep her into his arms in a loving embrace, happy to be with her again.

Since the wedding, with Krista so radiant and Lance so filled with adoration each time he’d looked at his bride, Zia had experienced a restless yearning that reached all the way to her soul or some place of deep, dark misery.

Where was the special person who would love her like that? Did he even exist, she questioned the part of her that sometimes, as at the wedding, longed for romance and fulfillment. Her eyes burned with sudden tears.

Heavens, but she was at a low point today, not a good time for a welcoming committee of any kind, even one as considerate as Jeremy.

“A little,” she admitted. “It was super of you to come by. As soon as I’m in my room, I’ll call the folks to let them know I made it okay.” She sounded briskly dismissive. “I’m sorry,” she immediately added. “I didn’t mean to be abrupt. I’m not very good company right now.”

“You probably need food,” he said in his unruffled manner. He glanced at his wristwatch. “How about if I come back in an hour or so and take you to the best steak house in town?”

What could she say to such a gracious offer but yes?

Besides, her mother would be appalled if she acted like a total ass to Jeremy. Truly, she didn’t mean to be unfriendly, but she really was weary. What should have been an easy drive from Provo, where she’d been supervisor of federal educational programs, to Vernal had taken several extra hours due to construction delays.

“Give me an hour and a half,” she requested. “I’m going to soak in a hot tub for a while before I do anything else.”

“Good idea.” He placed the large bag and the medium-size one on a luggage carrier inside the lobby before giving her a half wave, then headed out the door.

Zia sighed again and went to the front desk. “I’m Zia Peters. I have a reservation.”

“Welcome, Miss Peters,” the young woman behind the desk greeted her, her fingers busy on the computer as she pulled up the file. “I’m Rachel, your day host. You’re staying with us for two weeks?”

“Yes. Maybe more. I’ll be looking for an apartment, so I’m not sure how much time I’ll need.”

“No problem. Just let us know as soon as possible if you want extra time. Hmm, actually I can give you a better rate if you agree to stay a month. If you have to change the time span later, it’s no problem.”

The price break was a twenty percent discount, and Zia figured it would take at least a month to find a place. “Great. Let’s plan on a month.”

After filling out the forms and putting the charges on her credit card, she rolled the luggage cart to her room, pleased that it was on the ground floor and had a door opening onto the side porch as well as one to the inner corridor.

The queen bed fit into an alcove to the left of the sitting room. The bathroom was on that side, too. A tiny kitchen nestled into another niche, along with a closet, on the opposite wall.

Windows flanked the door to the porch, giving her a view of eastern hills, sagebrush and a line of chokecherries, salt cedars and willows along an arroyo.

She quickly hung her clothing in the closet, stored her other items in the dresser drawers, then ran a bath. While the tub was filling, she called her mom. “Hi, I’m in,” she said when her mother answered.

“Oh, good. You had such a long day, I was worried about you falling asleep at the wheel.”

Zia had gotten up early to let the movers collect her possessions and put them in storage until she got settled in her new place. The packing and loading had taken longer than planned, so she hadn’t hit the road until midafternoon. The traffic delays had added to the length of the trip.

“I’m fine,” she assured her mom.

“Did you see Jeremy?”

“Yes. He was here at the hotel when I arrived. We’re going to dinner later. At the best steak house in town,” she added.

“Good,” her mother said, her tone rich with approval.

Jeremy had always been hardworking and responsible and clear-thinking…all the things she’d had trouble with while growing up, all the things that brought on regret whenever she was reminded of the past.

She determinedly put the thought out of her mind. “Got to go,” she said brightly. “I want to take a hot bath and relax before we go to dinner.”

“Have a good time. Give Jeremy our love.”

“I will. Love you. Bye for now.”

She closed the cell phone, near despair or something equally gloomy. What was the matter with her? It had to be more than the wedding and the emotion associated with it, but what?

This move was supposed to be a good thing—sensible, logical, great for her career.

Except she hadn’t expected to see Jeremy the moment she arrived. After the long, hard day, she hadn’t been prepared to face him, just as she hadn’t been prepared for the turmoil inside when she’d danced with him at his cousin’s wedding.

Jeremy in jeans was appealing. Jeremy in a tux had been “awesome,” as one of Krista’s friends had said at the reception.

He really had been gorgeous. If Hollywood needed a new James Bond, he would be first on her list.

Shaking her head, she reminded herself she was no longer a teenager in an emotional and hormonal uproar, then stripped out of her jeans and T-shirt and headed for the tub.

“Ahh,” she groaned upon sinking into pleasantly hot water nearly up to her neck. She’d set the radio alarm for thirty minutes so she could relax completely without keeping an eye on the clock before facing the evening.

Zia sprang upright when the alarm went off. She’d tried meditation techniques, but she hadn’t relaxed at all during the soak although she’d given it her best.

Memories had returned to haunt her as they sometimes did when she was tired or tense or both. Seeing Jeremy had brought it all back—those days when every moment had seemed of earthshaking importance, when the world had revolved around her and her friends and their hectic lifestyle.

Or so she had thought.

She’d learned a harsh lesson the year she and Sammy broke up. The love of her young life had been horrified when she’d told him she was pregnant. While she wasn’t sure why the birth control pills had failed, other than she’d had a terrible cold and stomach flu that spring, she hadn’t seen it as a huge problem. Although a college dropout, Sammy had had a good job in construction.

Just as her father had at the same age. Now her dad owned his own construction company and made lots of money. True, that had happened much later in his life, but she’d envisioned her and Sammy working together and making their marriage a huge success…as opposed to her parents’ failure.

Why had she thought she was so much smarter and more capable than her mom had been at her age?

The confidence, or arrogance, of youth, she answered the question and surprisingly again felt the quick sting of remorse as she considered her mother’s life.

Caileen had dropped out of college and married at nineteen. Zia had been born ten months later. They had lived in a van, traveling around the country to the best surfing spots, her mom working at odd jobs while her dad did construction.

After nearly five years of roaming, her mom had moved into an apartment and worked for the university while finishing her degree in counseling. She’d also worked as a dishwasher at a local restaurant at night. The boss had let her bring her child with her. Some of Zia’s earliest memories were of sleeping in the storage room off the kitchen, surrounded by huge cans of food and hundred-pound sacks of potatoes.

She found herself smiling at that memory while an ache settled in her heart. Odd, to be so emotionally unsettled today.

Taking a new job as curriculum planner and coordinator for the county was a step up for her, one she was excited about, but a big responsibility. Perhaps that was the reason she felt so nervy.

She dressed in navy-blue slacks and a white shell, then laid out a long-sleeved shirt to take with her since the desert nights were usually cool at this elevation, which was over five thousand feet. She twisted her hair up on the back of her head and secured it with a butterfly clip before putting on a light foundation, eyeliner and rose-hued lipstick.

She still had twenty minutes, so she settled in a floral-covered rocking chair to wait, her thoughts once more on the past.

Six months after her fourth birthday, her parents had separated. They’d quarreled over money, over staying in one place, over her, over everything that touched their lives. Her fun, surfer-king father had walked out.

It had taken a long time to forgive her mother for that, and even longer to realize her dad had also made a choice and that it hadn’t included his wife and daughter. It wasn’t until she was alone, pregnant and worried about the future that she’d understood something of what her mother had gone through while trying to provide a healthy, stable home for a child who was asthmatic—thank goodness she’d outgrown that malady—and having to count every penny, plus getting in study time, too.

How had she withstood the stress and pressure and loneliness of those years?

Closing her eyes and resting her head on the chair back, Zia felt the familiar regret at her impatient defiance of Caileen’s rules and advice against a serious involvement during her first year of college. All the signs of Sammy’s self-absorption had been there, as her mom had pointed out, but she’d refused to see them. She’d been pretty self-centered, too.

Ah, well. What was done, was done.

She’d been foolish and naive at nineteen. At thirty-three, she hoped she was wiser. And a better person—

A knock on the outside door interrupted her musing.

Jeremy felt he could do no less than invite Zia out to dinner on her first night in town, especially since her mom had called and asked him to make sure Zia arrived okay. He would do anything for Caileen and his uncle Jeff, who had formed the stable home base every kid needed while growing up. His feelings for them ran deep.

Zia, on the other hand, had always seemed rather remote and aloof. However, he hadn’t been around her all that much, so he really couldn’t say. After Jeff and Caileen had married, Zia had gone to live in another state and work in her father’s construction company office while attending the university there. She and her mom hadn’t been getting along at the time.

In the fall, he’d left, too, going to the university in Boise on a math scholarship. Now, fourteen years later, it looked as if he and Zia were going to be residents of the same town. He wondered briefly if this would be a problem, but decided there was no reason for their lives to overlap more than in the past.

After finding out which room Zia was in, Jeremy went to the outside door and knocked. She answered at once.

As usual, her stunning beauty—five-nine, slender physique, long naturally blond hair, blue eyes—made his throat close for a second. The same thing had happened when he’d first seen her.

As a high school senior, he’d taken a college history course, intent on getting out on his own as soon as he finished his schooling. Zia had been in the class. That first day, all the guys had nearly fallen out of their chairs when she walked in with a friend, laughing and talking, seemingly unconscious of the picture she made.

He had to give her that. While most women would have used such great natural beauty to their advantage, Zia acted indifferent to hers.

At the time, he’d had no idea their lives would become entangled before the school year was over.

“Hello,” she said, opening the door and pulling him back into the present.

Her scent enveloped him as he returned her greeting. While her perfume was sometimes floral, as at the wedding, or sometimes on the spicy side, as now, there was always a hint of freshness about her, as if she embodied springtime.

“You were right about needing food.” she told him with a rueful grimace. “I skipped lunch, then ate cheese crackers while sitting in traffic. Now I’m starved.”

He nodded at her small talk and waited while she gathered her purse and a shirt for the evening, then escorted her to the four-wheel drive SUV so necessary for his work in a country of deep canyons, dry washes and towering mesas.

“The Green River steak house is a local favorite. We try to keep it a secret from outsiders,” he said after they were on their way.

“I promise not to tell anyone about it.”

He smiled and relaxed at the mock seriousness of her quip. She was in a better humor now than when she’d first arrived. He’d always felt that she avoided him whenever possible…well, actually she avoided the entire family other than very brief visits on special occasions, such as being asked to take part in the wedding as Krista’s maid of honor.

For a second his insides tightened painfully as he envisioned the angel dressed in blue who came down the aisle before the bride. He’d hardly been able to tear his gaze away. Odd, but in some ways, it was almost as if Zia hadn’t been present, as if her spirit had fled and left only the incredibly lovely husk of her body to carry out her duties.

When he’d danced with her at the reception, she’d stared over his shoulder at some distant view invisible to lesser mortals. He’d puzzled over her remote attitude, but if she preferred to remain aloof from the rest of them, it was her loss.

However, later, before Krista and Lance left on their honeymoon, he’d overheard Zia whisper, “Be happy, Krista. Find something in each day to bring joy to you and Lance.”

When they waved the couple off, he’d caught an expression of intense…loneliness? grief?…in her eyes for a second, then she’d walked away from the crowd of well-wishers and headed for her car as if she couldn’t wait to flee.

Against his will, he recalled blue eyes that had once looked like bruises in a face so pale he’d been afraid she was going to die on him.

He sucked in a harsh breath as a gang of tiny darts hit his heart all at once, making him aware that he’d once been truly worried for the lovely woman seated beside him, who normally kept up a pleasant facade and rarely gave a hint of her own deeper feelings. Ignoring the softer part of himself that still felt sorry for her in some ways, he pulled into a parking space and went around to help her out of the SUV.