Homecoming by Rochelle Alers Page B

ended a twenty-two-year exile to return to Hillsboro and a house filled with memories of another time in her family’s past, and what made her return even more poignant was that this would become the first Hillsboro summer she would not have her grandmother to confide in.
    Pushing the memories of her family’s past to the farthest recesses of her mind, she slipped the car key off a magnetic hook affixed to the door of the refrigerator. A smile softened her mouth when she remembered the vow she and Lily had made one afternoon on the Mitchells’ front porch: Lily would grow up and marry William Clark, while Dana would become Mrs.Ross Wilson, Jr. Billy and Ross were three years their senior, which made them older, exciting, and somewhat dangerous to the prepubescent girls.
    She was still smiling when she walked out of the kitchen, locked up the house, started up the car, backed out of the driveway, heading in the direction of the downtown business district.
    Tyler maneuvered into the driveway, parking behind Dana’s Chevy, refusing to acknowledge he was acting like a lovesick fool. He wasn’t in love with Dana Nichols, didn’t know her, but he had admitted to himself that he was drawn to her in a way he had never been attracted to another woman—not even the first woman who’d shared his bed.
    Whereas he’d always been two to three years ahead of his peers intellectually, the reverse was the case when it came to sex. While most of his friends had experienced their first sexual encounter when still in high school, he’d waited until his first year in college. His on-again, off-again affair with a fellow college student taught him what self-control meant. Once he’d discovered his libido was stronger than he’d ever expected it to be, he’d learned to control his sex drive with meditation. It usually worked for him—until now.
    There was something about Dana Nichols: her eyes, voice, smile, the way she stared up at him, and her slender compact body that meditating could not neutralize. He’d taken two icy-cold showers, but to no avail. If he hadn’t been so disturbed by his instant attraction to Dana, he would’ve thought he was going through a premature midlife crisis. Although forty-one, he found himself more randy than he’d been as an adolescent.
    Turning off the engine, he reached over and pickedup the small leather case and a large white shopping bag off the passenger-side seat. Opening the door to his vehicle, he stepped out into the smothering heat. A few clouds dotted a blistering white sky. Meteorologists were watching the weather carefully, because there were sightings of several twisters in Arkansas, Tennessee, and Oklahoma. The bone-dry Delta region needed rain, not tornados.
    “Good afternoon, Dr. Cole. I hope Dana’s not feeling poorly.”
    Tyler turned, nodding to the elderly woman standing on the steps of the neighboring house with a broom in one hand as he made his way to Dana’s front door.
    “Good afternoon, Miss Janie.” He offered her a friendly smile.
    He had no intention of replying to Miss Janie’s query about Dana’s health. She’d probably heard about the accident at Smithy’s within minutes of its occurrence. And it was apparent the elderly woman had come out of her house when she saw him drive up, curious why he would be making a visit to her recently deceased neighbor’s house in the middle of the afternoon. He had lived in Hillsboro long enough to know that Janie Stewart was an incurable gossip.
    “Let me know if she needs my help,” the older woman continued as Tyler rang the bell.
    “I will, Miss Janie.”
    Within minutes of his ringing the bell, Dana came to the door. She looked different today. Her hair was loose, parted off-center, the blunt-cut ends grazing her shoulders. His gaze was fixed on the shimmering gold strands threaded through the light brown ones. At first he thought she’d artificially lightened her hair, but upon closer inspection he realized the