Chapter Twelve

There were flowers. Pots of fall mums, baskets of pansies, a few vases of daisies. No roses.

Balloons and crepe paper streamers filled out the rest of the decorations. Music, selections obviously chosen by the kids, competed for dominance against conversation and laughter. Scattered along the walls were framed art, again contributions by the kids.

Amazed at the size of the turnout, Neal kept to the back of the room. Still people stopped and chatted, mostly about football and the youth center. All the kids filled him in on the latest bits of news, in class and out. Neal hid behind the crowd, even relied on deflecting questions from the press about his future as a means of avoiding the time when he would have to face Candace.

Six days had passed since she’d left him. Since he’d sent her away. Neal figured he’d slept little more than a total of thirty of those hours.

The school board had reversed their suspension, but Neal had not returned to either the classroom or the playing field. At his request he’d been granted a two-week hiatus. He’d spent the time considering whether or not to accept Bradley Reynolds’ renewed offer of the position at the Academy.

Much as he’d encouraged Ben to do during a turbulent period in his life, Neal had resorted to using physical labor as a means to sort through his emotions. He sanded walls, brushed on paint and installed some ceramic tile. He even drew up a layout for the raised flower bed Candace wanted to add to her back yard.

From Ralph at the hardware store, Neal learned she had honored her promise and had all the locks in her house changed.

Candace had also kept busy, attending every possible social function, including several in Atlanta. It was almost as if she were flaunting the very reason he’d hidden behind for turning her loose. Neal might have continued to believe he’d done the right thing if not for the newspaper picture. It had been at a function in Atlanta, at the governor’s mansion.

Her gown alone had been enough to torment him, the neckline dipping low enough to showcase a glittering necklace. And draw a man’s eye.

Anyone who didn’t know her the way he did would think only that she looked beautiful. But to Neal her smile had been nothing more than a camera-necessary curve of lips. Certainly it held none of the sparkle of humor she so often called on when teasing him out of a bad mood.

“Mr. Barrows.”

Startled out of his thoughts, Neal found Anita Hart standing before him.

“I’ve asked Benjamin and Tara to hold chairs for us at the front of the room.”

Neal glanced over her shoulder; saw the single microphone standing before a curtained spot on the wall. He could hardly blame Candace for not including him in any of the committee meetings for today’s activities.

“I think it would be best if I stayed back here.”

“You most certainly will not. Benjamin and Tara are expecting us. More importantly, I will not allow you to do anything to reflect poorly on Candace and the hard work she’s put in here. And since everyone in this room appears to be watching, you will escort me,” she said in that demanding tone that always set his teeth to grinding. Today, however, he was just too plain tired to argue.

“By all means,” he said, offering his arm. “Let’s keep up appearances.”

Neal felt the stares as they made their way to the front of the room. Suddenly, however, it didn’t matter that they were in public view, or in danger of being overheard. Neal only knew he had to have some answers.

“You’ve never liked me, Mrs. Hart. Why are you doing this?”

“I understand you gave up a chance to play professional football and came back here to teach instead.” She nodded hello to someone who called her name.

“I won’t apologize for my career.”

“I don’t expect you to,” she answered back, a sliver of anger cutting through the cultured voice. “I’m merely pointing out you could have had a career where you earned a great deal more money and recognition.”

“So?”

“Instead you came back here and devoted considerable time and effort to the children of this community.” She paused beside the front row of chairs and looked up at him. “I can’t help but wonder, if you had achieved greater financial security, would that have stopped you from courting my granddaughter?”

Neal’s smile was thin. “Your granddaughter not only courted me, Mrs. Hart, she seduced me.”

“Yes, she certainly did.” Anita surprised him by chuckling before she sobered. “My question stands. Would you have thought she was interested in you only because of your money or your reputation?”

“Or course not, it wouldn’t have…”

“Mattered,” she finished for him.

“It’s not the same.”

“Isn’t it?” she argued and then sat beside Ben. Candace’s voice over the microphone calling for everyone’s attention had Neal lowering into a chair. Like a man searching for salvation he looked up and stared at the woman he loved.

And he had no one but himself to blame for coming to the realization of that love after he’d shoved her out of his life.

She looked pale, though not as a result of hastily tossed out hurts and accusations. As always, she looked elegant and composed. Beautiful, Neal corrected, as his hands closed into tight fists on his thighs. Beautiful, inside and out.

“Good afternoon.” Her voice floated over the room, warm and friendly. Behind her stood Sandra. Neal at least had the comfort of having learned from the girl that Corey and his mother had relocated to Augusta.

“I’m thrilled so many of you have joined us today. I promise I’m only going to say a few short words and then you can all go back to the delicious refreshments Marge’s Munchies donated for today.”

Candace grinned when several laughs and comments crossed the room pleading for the adults to have first pick before the teenagers could eat everything in sight. Neal heard the snap of cameras and knew tomorrow he would again be tormented with seeing her picture in the paper.

“As you see before you,” Candace continued, lifting one hand to make a wide sweep of the room. “A lot has been accomplished here. I would like to extend the committee’s appreciation to all of the businesses who either contributed materials or gave us a deep discount. I would also like to extend my personal thanks to my family and all the committee members who worked on this project.” She paused and drew in a breath. Avoided looking in his direction.

“Most of the praise, however, belongs to the kids who put in so much hard work and pride into creating a place where they could gather. It was my privilege to work alongside them, to get to know them, and I feel honored they included me in their circle of friendship.”

She paused again, this time leading the audience to bolster her words with a warm round of applause.

“However, never was I more proud of these kids than when they came to me four weeks ago with a request.” She paused to emphasize the timing. “You see, these are kids with dreams, and as we all know, dreams can be fragile. So easily lost,” she added, her voice growing soft as she gripped her hands before her.

Not a person in the audience made a sound or movement. Even had she held notes everyone would have understood Candace spoke from her heart.

“It takes a special person to give hope and encouragement when all the odds are against success. It takes a special person to hold onto their strong sense of self-worth when the world is determined to believe the worst about them. The person we honor today has lived life with those fundamental convictions. The person we honor today has taught that and so much more to these kids. The person we honor today has taught these kids that respect and admiration are not easily earned and are often even more difficult to maintain. They are also infinitely more valuable than any material possession.”

She pressed her lips together a moment, drew in a shaky breath. “That’s why I’m thrilled to announce the committee unanimously agreed with the kids’ request. Ladies and gentlemen.” She shifted back and gestured to Sandra, who pulled away the sheet to reveal a brass plaque.

“With much pride, I dedicate to this city and all of its youth the Neal Barrows Youth Center.”

Neal forgot to breathe. His blood had run cold with some of Candace’s words but never, never in his wildest dreams, had he expected anything like this.

Around him people stood and applauded. There were claps on his back, whistles and cheers from the kids, shouts for a speech. All he could do was stare at Candace.

For the first time today she met his gaze. He saw the pride he didn’t deserve; he saw the friendship that had stubbornly stood by him when he did nothing to earn her faith. He saw—God help him—he saw everything she had offered to share with him.

Everything he’d been stupid enough to throw away.

For her, because of her, he managed to stand. Even before he took a first step toward the microphone, she stepped back. From there everything passed in a blur. He said a few short, inadequate words to express his gratitude. He shook hands and hugged the kids, posed for pictures.

Candace had given him this. Despite the way he’d hurt her, she’d given him one more precious gift. She’d given him final and total proof he was accepted for the man he’d become rather than being forever compared to the woman he came from. In doing that she’d given him the courage to go after another dream.

When the crowd finally thinned, Neal glanced around the room, fearful she’d slipped away. He released a slow breath when he spotted her talking with Ben and Tara.

“Candace.”

She turned and looked at him, this time with less interest than she’d given any stranger here today. How did a man, Neal mused, go about begging for forgiveness?

“You did a great job arranging everything.”

“Thank you,” she answered simply, coolly. “Of course, what else would you expect? With all my years of attending social functions, it’s only natural I would know how to throw a party.”

It wasn’t often she pulled the royal act. That she did so now because of his pride, and stupidity, cut like glass.

Ignoring Ben’s muttered curse, Neal stepped closer. Touched a hand to her arm.

“Take your hand off me,” she spat out, her voice low, quick and lethal. “You made it quite clear you wanted nothing more to do with me, Neal.”

“I—”

She tossed up her chin, cutting him off. Finally he did as she asked and released his hold on her arm.

“Because this is a small town our paths will no doubt cross from time to time,” Candace said. “And there is the fact that you are friends with Ben and Tara.” The couple gave Neal sympathetic stares.

“I’ll be civil, even gracious. Because, of course, that is another expectation. I wish—” Her voice broke, forcing her to press her lips together to regain her composure.

Neal strained against the need to pull her into his embrace, to offer comfort and a safe haven for the emotion she was burying deep inside. God help him, he knew how that could hurt more than it protected.

“I wish I could say what I did today was only for the kids but that would be a lie and I’m tired of all the lies. But, please,” she said, adding another arrow to his heart with the plea. “Please don’t ask for anything more from me, Neal. I have nothing left.”

He had no one but himself to blame he admitted while he watched her walk away. No one…no one, he suddenly realized, but he had ever held the idea he wasn’t good enough for her.

The evidence the town believed different was, literally, right in front of his face. He could continue as he always had—feeling as if he stood on the outside looking in, denying the hunger inside of him. Or he could reach out and grab hold of the priceless dream Candace offered.

Fourth down, he’d once told Corey. Did he punt or go for the touchdown? Looked like it was time he took his own advice.

****

“What the hell is this?”

Candace slammed the newspaper down on her grandmother’s desk. Fury quivered in the hands she braced on the surface while betrayal burned her eyes. She hadn’t even bothered to take time to slip back into her heels before she raced up the stairs and barged into the office.

Her grandmother infuriated her further by going through the pretense of staring down at the blocked notice. On the front page no less. Alongside the article detailing Neal’s appointment as head coach at the Academy.

The notice Candace pointed out hadn’t contained her name, but she knew it was intended for her. Because, on the first night they’d made love, she’d told Neal she would gladly meet him wherever and whenever he was ready to publicly announce their relationship. It was also obscurely worded enough to guarantee a crowd of curious onlookers.

You said whenever I wanted you would meet me at the town square.

Thursday. 2 P.M.

“As advertising head I assume you would recognize an advertisement notice when you see one,” Anita said.

“And as advertising head shouldn’t I have been consulted as to whether or not this one was to be printed?”

“I made an editorial decision.”

“Fine.” Candace straightened, her spine so stiff she thought it a miracle it didn’t snap in half. “Since my ability to make decisions for the best benefit of the advertising department is obviously in question, I resign.”

She made it to the door before her grandmother spoke. “Coward.”

Her spine melted, her will crumbled. With a weak whimper, Candace leaned her forehead against the door.

She thought it had been difficult getting through the dedication ceremony three days ago. She thought having to stand there and see Neal receive the town’s respect and admiration was almost more than she could endure. She had hoped walking away from him would finally end her heartache.

Of course she had not escaped. Neal was too firmly entrenched in her heart.

“Why are you doing this?” Candace whispered.

“Of my three grandchildren, you are the most like me.” Anita left her desk, walked over and drew her granddaughter into her embrace.

“Stubborn,” Candace said, burrowing into the rare comfort.

“Yes. And when that stubbornness is paired with love and faith and pride it becomes strong enough to take a risk.”

Anita stroked her hands over Candace’s back and then up to frame her face.

“I never took that risk. Don’t make my same mistake.” She smiled. “Just remember to put your shoes on before you go.”

****

Her knees shook. And her stomach…well, Candace didn’t want to think about the cartwheels and somersaults pitching inside her stomach. The hope was a painful throb in every beat of her heart. Even without her grandmother’s words or interference, Candace admitted she wouldn’t have been able to stay away.

Naturally it was a beautiful day, the air crisp with the first promise of fall. The streets were crowded with people running errands, conducting business. On the swing set in the square, two stay-at-home moms talked and watched their toddlers exhaust themselves into the need for a nap.

Candace crossed the street and came to a stop in the shadow of an elm tree. In the center of the square, alongside a bench, stood Neal, wearing jeans and a white oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled back on his forearms.

“I wasn’t sure you would come,” he said, lifting his left hand from where it rested on his hip to make a vague gesture before resettling. “I don’t deserve for you to have come, but I hoped you would.”

Before she could answer, Candace saw Tara walking her way. “Maybe you’ll be less nervous if you have something to hold.”

Her sister-in-law handed over a tissue-wrapped dozen roses. Red roses. Candace’s gaze jerked back to Neal.

“I never thanked you for everything you said at the dedication ceremony.” He dipped his head. “I never thanked you for everything you did for the kids.”

“I enjoyed…”

She trailed off as she realized someone else walked her way. Lou’s bright red hair and skinny hips identified her. She winked as she deposited another tissue-wrapped dozen roses of a deeper red in Candace’s arms, then moved over to stand next to Tara where both women could watch the unfolding events.

“You enjoy working with them,” Neal finished her thought. “So do I.” He paused until Candace looked up from the roses to him.

“Someone I respect and admire recently accused me of not believing in myself and my dreams as much as I encourage those kids to believe in theirs.”

She took a step. “Neal, I—”

He held up a hand to stop her protest. “You were right,” he said. “I was afraid to go after what I want. I was afraid to repeat the same mistakes my mother made.”

Candace, tears beginning to fill her eyes, blinked as Sandra walked her way. Another dozen red roses soon filled her arms. Sandra joined Tara and Lou on the sidelines of this little scene, where, Candace noticed, a crowd began to gather. Her knees felt like a bowl of wiggly jelly.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think in recent weeks,” Neal continued. “I enjoy coaching and teaching. I’m good at it.”

“Of course you are.” She managed a few steps closer to him.

“I don’t want you to think I don’t admire and respect you, Candace.” He smiled a little, shrugged a shoulder. “Actually, I think anyone who works with Anita Hart on a daily basis deserves something close to a medal.”

Candace’s laughter choked in her throat when Ben appeared from behind the slide. He gently placed another dozen red roses in her arms and then lifted his hands to frame her face.

“For God’s sake, Candy, don’t be so stubborn and make the man suffer any more than he already has.” Ben kissed both of her cheeks. “Now, go over and sit down before your knees give out on you.”

As she did indeed sit, sighing a little at the firm support beneath her, she watched her brother step behind his wife and curve his arms around her waist. Tara’s hands covered his arms, binding them together. The crowd was growing while murmurs of question and speculation circulated among those who lingered or passed by.

“I guess you saw I took the offer at the Academy?” Neal asked. She nodded, beginning to realize how much effort he’d put into planning this day. For a man who coveted his privacy, used it as a shield, it was a stunning turn of events.

She glanced down at the roses she held, red roses, and lost the battle to hold back hope, dreams, or love. For as long as she could remember they’d all three been woven around Neal, belonged to Neal.

“I almost didn’t take it,” Neal admitted, finally giving in and sitting, facing her.

The crowd cheered their approval of the move, and Candace fell deeper in love as a blush kissed his cheeks. He was close enough that their knees all but touched, his face was close enough for her to lean forward and replace the blush on his cheeks with her lips. All she could seem to do was sit and stare at him.

“I was worried I was interested in the job for all the wrong reasons. That,” he explained before she could comment, “I was looking more at the pay or the prestige of the position rather than at how I could help the kids.”

“Oh, Neal.”

She did give in now and, after juggling the roses in her lap, touched a hand to his. He turned his palm so theirs could meet, warmth to warmth, and his fingers closed around hers.

“No one who knows you would ever believe you’d put your own interests before that of the kids,” Candace said.

“You’ve always had such faith in me,” Neal mused. “I finally took the job because I realize everyone, whether or not they have background and wealth, has dreams. It’s simply a matter of having the courage.” He smiled. “Or the stubbornness, to go after what you want.”

He looked across the expanse of the square, staring long enough that Candace finally followed his gaze. Coming their way was little Laura, marching in slow measured steps, dressed in a frilly dress the color of ripe peaches. And carrying a basket of long stemmed red roses.

“I’m practicing,” she announced, setting the basket at Candace’s feet. Her heart tumbled down to land right beside the basket at her hope of what Laura’s confession meant. “Did I do it right?”

“Yes, princess.” Neal smiled at her. “You did it perfect. Now go on over there with everyone.”

Candace watched as Laura skipped over to stand beside Lou. And, with her heart jumping back up into her throat, saw her grandmother had joined the crowd.

Neal was courting her, Candace realized with light seeping into her heart. He’d forsaken pride and his need for privacy to do this for her. For them.

“You’re my dream, Candace,” Neal said. “You always have been. It just took me awhile to realize that some dreams don’t have to remain in the shadows.” She looked back at him, his features barely visible through her tears. “You told me you’ve loved me half your life.” He nodded toward the roses.

“I don’t really know how long I’ve loved you, but I do know I’ll love you the rest of my life. So, my first thought was I’d give you a dozen roses for each year I hope we’ll have together.” He grinned and ducked his head a little.

“But I am only a teacher after all, so I had to settle for a single rose for each year.”

She glanced down, her usually quick thinking business mind unable to make the calculation.

“Five dozen,” he said. “I figure sixty years is a good start.” As the crowd around them shouted out encouragement, and goaded him to kiss her, she looked up at him, saw the shimmer of all her dreams in his eyes.

“I love you, Candace. I can’t promise you a mansion, but our house will be filled with love and friendship. And”—his laughter was strained with vulnerability—“more than one argument I’m sure.”

There were more shouts from the crowd, affirming Candace’s stubborn streak. Even as her chin lifted in defense.

“I can’t promise you dances and social parties every week,” Neal said. “But I’ll be proud to stand by your side whenever there is a cause you want to support. I can’t promise you diamonds or champagne and roses or designer clothes, but I can promise to hold you at night. The one thing you’ll never lack is knowing how much I love you.”

He opened his palm to reveal a small oval sapphire embedded in a filigree gold setting.

“It’s not a traditional diamond. I wanted you to have something to remind you, every time you look at it, of everything we’ve shared. And will share.”

Candace swallowed, found it hard to get words out. “Did you really think you had to do this here? In front of half the town?” she asked, her head still bent to stare at the ring she had yet to reach for.

“Yes, I did.” Neal waited until she looked at him. “I want you to know I’m proud of the man I’ve become. You helped me see that. I’m proud of the person you are.” He brushed a fingertip over her cheek, tracing the trail of her tears. “I want you to know I’ll be proud for every day of the rest of my life if you’ll become my wife.”

“Neal, I have always been proud of you.”

Candace stared at the man she loved, the man who had struggled beyond his past and his own doubts, the man she knew as friend and lover. Holding out her hand, she invited him to slip the ring on her finger.

“I’ll be proud for every day of the rest of my life to be your wife.”

No sooner was the ring on her finger than she was in his arms, felt the love and heat of his lips on hers. She heard the affirming cheers of the crowd as the odor of crushed roses floated on the air.

“Soon,” Candace demanded when he released her mouth. “I’ve waited long enough for you, Neal Barrows.”

“You’ll have to wait a little longer.” He framed her face in his hands, stopping her protest with a long arousing kiss. “I want a wedding, Candace. A big wedding with you standing in candlelight, holding my bouquet of red roses, where half this town will watch me vow to love you the rest of my life.”

Oh, that image was a lovely one that took immediate root in her heart. “And in the meantime?” Candace demanded, her chin angled in stubbornness. She wasn’t about to go back to sneaking around in the dark, coming in and out of back doors.

She was also going to have to wait for an answer as family, friends, and on-lookers rushed over to congratulate them.

At one point Candace realized she had her answer. Standing in the fall sunshine, chatting with people she loved, already discussing wedding plans, she looked over to find Neal staring at her.

There in the depths of his blue eyes she saw everything she’d ever hoped to find, everything she’d dreamed of for so long. There she saw pride and love, courage and a shade of stubbornness.

There in the center of town for anyone and everyone to see, she shared a look of promise with the man she loved.

A word about the author…

As an Army Brat, Pam had to leave friends behind because of frequent moves. But no matter where she lived, romance novels were her constant companions. Then she met the man of her dreams on a blind date, and after she married her hero, Pam started writing her own love stories.

Now she has more friends, imaginary and real-life, than she can count. She’s still happily married to the man who swept her off her feet and gave her the romance of a lifetime. She loves writing about strong women and men who find each other and quilt the fabric of their lives together.

A member of Romance Writers of America, Georgia Romance Writers, and Southern Magic, Pam’s books have twice been awarded the Maggie Award for Excellence and once the Linda Howard Award of Excellence.

When not writing, Pam enjoys quilting, planting beautiful flowers, home improvement projects, and spending time with her wonderful family.

Email: pammantovaniauthor@gmail.com

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