Free In the Mood for Love by Beth Ciotta Page A

Lovers.”
    “You’re kidding, right? You’re in the limelight alongside every CL involved in the recipe book.”
    “About that—”
    “I’m sure any one of those prospects would have made a better wife and mother than me,” she said, getting back to his dates.
    “Maybe.” If Harper was jealous or resentful, she didn’t show it. But Sam detected a hint of annoyance. Interesting, since she’d been the one to end their affair. “But you’ve got something they don’t.”
    “Kinky urges?”
    “My attention.”
    *   *   *
    Harper held it together as Sam drove them into Sugar Creek. A twenty-minute jaunt that felt like eternity. She alternated between checking her phone for texts and fingering her Serenity bracelet. She helped herself to his radio, dialing in cheery pop music to offset her darkening mood. She asked Sam to play tour guide, even though she was familiar with the area. Anything to distract her from morbid thoughts. Turned out he knew far more than she did about Sugar Creek and the surrounding land. Then again he’d lived here his entire life. She wondered what it felt like to love a place so much, you never wanted to leave. Harper had never felt rooted in that way, although she’d always had an affinity with the Rothwell Farm. Which prompted the question: After they married, where would they live? The farm was her safe haven and she had unfinished business with Mary. She didn’t want to move out. She’d just moved in!
    Harper fingered her bracelet, tempered her breathing. “How is this going to work exactly?”
    “The marriage?”
    “No, lunch. ” Okay. That was snarky. But it had also been reflex. She’d learned to protect her heart by pushing people away.
    Sam shot her one of his wicked death stares. “Why don’t you shelve the sarcasm and tell me what’s twisting you up?”
    Harper stiffened her spine. “I’m not fond of sharing my … personal misgivings.”
    “Welcome to the club. What’s with the bracelet?”
    Self-conscious now, Harper stopped twirling the bangle. “You know how some people stroke rosary beads as a way of meditation? Same concept.”
    “Are you Catholic?”
    “No.”
    “Religious?”
    “Not particularly.” Although the underside of her bracelet was inscribed with the Serenity prayer. “You?”
    “I take the kids to church.”
    “That doesn’t answer my question.”
    Sam rolled back his shoulders. “My faith has been tested over the years, so I’m a little shaky on my exact belief.”
    Same as her.
    The awkward confession pulled Harper out of her self-absorbed misery. While decorating the farmhouse, Rocky had shared stories about her family, including bits about Sam. Harper knew he’d lost his first wife to ovarian cancer. That it had been an intrusive, lengthy battle and that Sam had been devastated when Paula had died. Harper assumed that crisis had shaken his faith. She’d gone through a similar shock with Andrew.
    Although Andrew’s fate, along with another, could have been avoided.
    If only Harper had intervened.
    Pulse racing, she shook off the memories, the guilt. That was Edward talking.
    Because she didn’t want to mention Andrew, she didn’t ask about Paula. Instead she turned up the music.
    Sam shut it off.
    She focused on her phone.
    Sam took it away.
    “Dammit, McCloud—”
    “The CLs mentioned you haven’t been in town since you’ve been back. That you’ve had your meals and supplies delivered to the farm. Why is that?” When she didn’t answer, he pushed. “You mentioned letting a lot of people down. Your clients? Why did the firm let you go?”
    Harper balled her fists in her lap. She wanted to massage her aching chest. She wanted to stroke her bracelet. She wanted to punch Sam. But none of that would soothe her brewing anxiety.
    The small town of Sugar Creek, with its quaint buildings and cobbled streets, loomed just ahead. She spotted the steeple of the Methodist church, the red-brick façades of the two- and