It was Jecca who’d asked for a further explanation of that concept. Kim told them of the seven founding families who came to America in the 1700s and created the town.
“And they’re all still there?” Jecca asked is disbelief.
“Enough of us are descendants of those seven families that we’re related to one another and yes, we still live there.” There was so much caution in Kim’s voice that Jecca pounced. They were told there were “others” in town and they were called “Newcomers.” Even if the family had moved there in the 1800s, they were still “Newcomers.”
When these lively discussions about the merits—or lack of them—of small town living took place, Sophie stayed out of them. She covered her silence by taking too big a mouthful of food and saying she couldn’t speak. Or she would suddenly remember that she had to be somewhere else. Whatever she needed to do so she didn’t have to participate in a discussion about growing up, she did it.
The truth was that Sophie had been embarrassed. Kim and Jecca had such normal childhoods. Oh, they complained about a parent or sibling, but they’d grown up loved and protected. Sophie hadn’t. Her mother had gone from one man to another. And then there was the little Texas town. Ruled by Treeborne Foods and riddled with poverty.
Sophie wasn’t sure how it started, but when the first person asked her where she was from she named a pretty little Texas town with country clubs and golf courses. So many people had fond memories of the town that she never corrected her lie.
But then Jecca and Kim didn’t notice, for they had always been so very trouble free, with few worries. It was a state of being that Sophie had tried to imagine, but she hadn’t succeeded. It seemed that her life had always consisted of running toward something or trying to get away from a lot of things.
She glanced at the big envelope on the passenger seat of the car, and the Treeborne logo seemed to leap out at her. It was like a flashing neon light going off and on.
The sharp sound of a horn brought her back to reality. Her distraction had caused her to wander across the line and into the left lane. As she jerked to the right, she saw what looked to be a gravel road disappearing into the trees and she took it. She only went a few yards before stopping, her car hidden from the road. She turned off the engine and for a moment bent her head against the steering wheel as her mind filled with images of the last five years.
The death of her mother had changed everything. There’d been a job offer when Sophie graduated from college, but she’d had to turn it down. Taking it would have meant relocating from her little Texas hometown, and since her sister couldn’t leave, Sophie had to go to her. Oh how noble she’d felt on that day! She’d called the nice, older man who’d asked her to work for him. “It’s not much to begin with,” he’d told her, “but it’s a start. You’re talented, Sophie, and you have ambition. I think you’ll go far.” When she called him to turn the job down she’d felt like a saint. She was sacrificing herself for others, giving up what
she
wanted to help her sweet, innocent, vulnerable twelve-year-old sister.
The man had made an attempt to change her mind. “Sophie, you’re too young to do this. Isn’t there someone else your little sister could live with? An aunt, a grandparent? Someone?”
“There’s no one and besides, there are extenuating circumstances. Lisa needs—”
“What do
you
need?” the man had half shouted.
But nothing he said dissuaded Sophie from putting her life on hold so she could spend the next five years protecting her sister. Protecting, providing for her, trying to teach her about the world. But somewhere in there Sophie had begun to want things for herself, like love and family. At that she had failed.
Sophie got out of the car and looked around. Through the trees she could see the highway. There wasn’t much traffic, just a few pickups, some of them towing boats.
She leaned back against the car, closed her eyes, and held her face up to the light. It was warm out but she could feel autumn in the air. Other people were at home raking leaves and ordering cords of firewood. Maybe they were thinking about Thanksgiving and what candy to give out this weekend at Halloween. But Sophie was on the road.
Would Carter spend the holidays with his fiancée? she wondered. What would he buy her for Christmas? A perfect little diamond tennis bracelet for her perfect little blue-blood wrist?
Would they go sledding in the snow?
Yet again, Sophie felt anger surge through her.
Carter had a right to his own . . . Sophie put her hand over her mouth, as she had an almost uncontrollable urge to scream. He’d said, “You must know that you’re the kind of girl a man—”
No! She was never again going to let herself remember the things he’d said to her on that last night. But then, it was the
way
he’d said it all that had hurt as much as the words. He’d acted surprised that she didn’t know what to him was a given. His face—that she’d thought she loved—looked at her in innocence, as though no blame could be attached to him. According to him, it was all Sophie’s fault because she hadn’t understood from the beginning. “But I thought you knew,” he said, his brow furrowed in puzzlement. “It was just for the summer. Aren’t there books written about summer romances? That’s what we had. And the good part is that someday we’ll both look back on this with fondness.”
His words were so sincere sounding that Sophie began to doubt herself. Had she known but not let herself admit it? Whatever the truth was, she’d felt crushed, defeated. She’d truly believed that she loved Carter—and that he felt the same way about her. He’d made her feel good about herself. He’d listened to her complaints about her jobs, about how she often felt that she’d missed out on life, then he’d kissed her until she quit talking.
It had taken Sophie nearly a year after graduation to figure out that putting her own life on hold to help someone else was easier said than done. She’d gone from being a laughing college student to having two jobs. She was always on her feet, always having to smile at customers, at bosses, at coworkers, then having errands to run after work. Waitressing, receptionist, temporary secretary, part-time sales work, she’d done it all. No one wanted to give her a permanent position because they knew that once Lisa was out of school Sophie would leave. It had all worn her out. When she got home, Lisa would help her with dinner, but she had schoolwork to do. And then there was their stepfather, Arnie, drink in hand, always nearby, always watching, always looking as though he couldn’t wait to get away from Sophie’s ever vigilant eyes. Sophie had wanted to take Lisa away from that town, but Arnie was the legal guardian so they’d had to stay there. As soon as Sophie returned to town Arnie said he’d injured his back and quit his job as a driver for Treeborne Foods, which meant the financial burden fell to Sophie. She’d contacted a lawyer about getting custody of her sister but was told it would be a legal battle that she couldn’t afford. Arnie didn’t have a record, and he always said that as soon as his back healed he would return to work. Besides, there was the fact that her mother’s will named him as guardian and their marriage was legal. All Sophie could do was wait until Lisa came of age.
All in all, since college, Sophie’s life was endless stress—until Carter came into it. For years her life had been about her sister, but then Lisa got an afterschool job, and some of the pressure was taken off Sophie. For the first time in years she had some time of her own—and that’s when Carter stepped in. And he had made her realize that yes, she wanted a career in some creative field, but she also wanted a family. Family first, art second.
She stepped away from the car and looked at the wooded area around her. She’d like to think all that was behind her now. Two days ago she’d driven Lisa to the state university, and she’d felt good that she’d put enough money in the bank to cover the first year. There were hugs at good-bye, lots of tears, and Lisa’s thanks. Sophie loved her sister and would miss her, but Sophie couldn’t help but feel that she was at last free to start her own life. And that life centered around Carter Treeborne, the man she’d come to love.
As she drove the two hundred miles back to her stepfather’s house she’d been jubilant, feeling the best she ever had in her life. She would go back to her art, what she’d studied in school, and she and Carter would spend their lives together. That he was a Treeborne would cause some problems at first, but she could adjust. She’d met his father several times, and the man had listened attentively to all she’d had to say. He seemed to be a very nice man, not at all intimidating as people in town said he was. But then the enormous Treeborne plant was where everyone worked. Of course they’d be in awe of him.
Sophie couldn’t help comparing him to her alcoholic, lazy stepfather. He was the man Sophie had had to protect Lisa from. That night after she’d dropped Lisa off, as soon as she entered the house—the one her mother had bought and that Sophie had paid the mortgage on since her mother’s death—his greeting was to ask her what was for dinner. With a smile, Sophie said he could eat whatever he cooked for himself.
Ten minutes later, she was at Carter’s house. After they made love, he told her that next spring he was marrying someone else, that he and Sophie had just been a “summer romance.”
There are times in a person’s life when emotion takes away your ability to think. Carter had taken full advantage of Sophie’s stunned state as he shoved clothes at her, then had half pushed her out the front door. He’d placed a chaste kiss on her forehead and closed the door.
She’d stood there for what could have been ten minutes or an hour. She couldn’t seem to make her eyes focus or her mind work. Somewhere in there she decided that Carter was playing a prank on her, a sort of belated April Fool’s joke.
She opened the door of the big house and stepped inside. The huge entrance hall with its curved, double staircase loomed before her, silent, even menacing. Quietly, slowly, she went up the carpeted stairs, her heart pounding in her throat. Surely she’d misheard what Carter said.
She stopped outside his room and looked through his open door. He was on the phone, lounging on the bed, his back to her. The tone he was using, so soft and seductive, was one she’d heard many times. But this time his words were being cooed to someone named Traci.
When Sophie heard a voice from downstairs, she came to her senses. She was sneaking around inside the home, the mansion, of the richest family in town, and coming up the stairs was Mr. Treeborne himself.
Sophie had only time to step behind the open door of Carter’s room. She pulled her toes back into her shoes, praying she wouldn’t be seen.
Mr. Treeborne stopped in the doorway, and his big, powerful voice—the one his thousands of employees at Treeborne Foods knew well—rang out. “Did you get rid of that town girl?”
“Yeah, Dad, I did,” Carter said, and Sophie didn’t hear a drop of regret in his voice.
“Good!” Mr. Treeborne said. “She’s a pretty little thing, but that family of hers isn’t something we can associate with. We have a status to uphold. We—”
“I know,” Carter said, sounding bored. “You’ve said it all from the day I was born. Do you mind? I’m talking to Traci.”
“Tell her father hello for me,” Mr. Treeborne said, then went down the hall.
Sophie nearly fainted when Carter closed his bedroom door, exposing her to the hallway. Her first thought was to get out of the house as quickly as possible. She was at the first step down when she halted. Suddenly, it became crystal clear to her what she should do. She turned back and confidently strode down the hall, past Carter’s room, and into his father’s office. The door was open, the room empty, and there on the big oak desk was
it
. The recipe book. Two hours before, Carter had taken it out of the safe in his father’s office.
The Treeborne cookbook was legendary in their little town and was used in all the company’s advertising. It was said that the entire line of frozen foods was based on the secret family recipes passed down from Mr. Treeborne’s grandmother. A stylized drawing of her graced every package. Her face and the Treeborne logo were familiar to most Americans.
When Sophie had arrived at the Treeborne house tonight, she’d been talking so much about her future plans, all of which included Carter, that she’d been unresponsive to his lovemaking. He’d become quite frustrated after just a few minutes. But then he knew that this was going to be their last night together.
Finally, he gave up trying to get her attention and said he’d show her
the
book.
She knew exactly what he was talking about and the thought that he’d show it to
her
made her stare at him in stunned silence. Everyone in town knew that only people named Treeborne—by birth or marriage—had ever seen the recipe book. But Carter was going to show it to Sophie!
He’d been right and even the thought of such an honor took her mind off everything else. Carter held her hand as he led her into his father’s paneled office, moved aside a portrait, and opened the safe. Reverently, he pulled out a large, thick envelope.
Sophie waited for him to open it and reveal the contents, but that didn’t seem to be part of the deal. He let her hold it in its envelope on her outstretched palms. When Sophie made a move as though she meant to look inside, Carter took it from her and started to put it back in the safe. He never made it because Sophie began kissing him. To her, being allowed so near something so precious was an aphrodisiac—and it seemed to be an indication that what was between them was permanent. In their urgency, Carter dropped the envelope on top of his father’s big desk, and they ran to his bedroom.
It was afterward that Carter told her it was over between them and pushed her out the door. But after Sophie heard Carter’s and his father’s dismissal of her, as though she didn’t matter as a human being, she walked down the lushly carpeted hallway, her shoulders back, her stride firm. She picked up the envelope containing the precious recipe book and tucked it under her arm. As she turned, she saw that the door to the safe was still open. Inside was a lot of cash, stacks of hundred-dollar bills. It was tempting to reach inside and take a bundle, but she didn’t. With great insouciance, not caring who heard, she shut the heavy little door hard. The resounding bam! made her smile. Still with her shoulders back and the envelope clutched to her, she went down the stairs and back out the front door.