Return to Me by Robin Lee Hatcher Page B

more rest. Why don’t you plan on coming into the offices on Monday? That’ll be soon enough.”
    Roxy lifted her eyes and met Elena’s gaze across the table. “Is that okay with you?”
    “If that’s what Dad wants.” Elena hated the way she felt. She hated the petty nature of her thoughts. Why was she acting like this? She should be celebrating her sister’s return, and instead she behaved like a petulant child. She loved Roxy, despite everything. “Well, then.” Jonathan beamed at his daughters. “I’m glad that’s settled. I can’t tell you how pleased I am to have my family together
    again.” He lifted his water goblet. “God has been good to us.”
    =

    Disillusionment and uncertainty were stamped upon Roxy’s beau- tiful features, and it broke Wyatt’s heart to see them there.
    Roxy Burke had been the most self-assured, charismatic per- son he knew. With a toss of her auburn hair and a smile on her full, sensuous mouth, she could make a man’s heart stop at thirty paces. When she entered a room, every head turned. Men, women, kids — they all noticed Roxy and were drawn to her. True, she had a combustible nature, quick to anger, quick to forget, but her laughter was infectious. Wyatt used to do or say things to make her laugh for the sheer pleasure of hearing it. As for the singing voice the Lord gave her, there weren’t enough adjectives in the diction- ary to describe it. The winning contestants on American Idol had nothing on Roxy.
    As they ate their supper of pork tenderloin scaloppine, glazed carrots, and baked potatoes, Wyatt wondered what happened to Roxy in Nashville. Why didn’t she make it big? She had the looks and the talent. What happened to turn her into the shell of her for- mer self he saw now? Then again, maybe he didn’t want to know.
    He glanced toward the opposite side of the table where Elena was cutting her pork into small, bite-sized pieces.
    Two sisters, very different from each other. Wyatt had loved them both. He’d proposed to both, years apart, but only Elena accepted. What if Roxy had said yes seven years ago?
    Best not to wonder.

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    Ten

    Time was interesting, Roxy mused. A second was always a second. A minute was always a minute. An hour, an hour. A day, a day. Yet time could be a jet or a snail. It could race or drag.
    Today, time dragged.
    Roxy rose late, ate another large breakfast under Fortuna’s watchful eye, then showered and dressed in a new pair of Levi’s and a purple polo shirt. But after that the day stretched before her with nothing to do. Fortuna didn’t want her to lift a finger in the house.
    She could go shopping again, she thought as she f lipped through the channels on the flat-screen TV in the game room. Working in the corporate offices would require business attire. Suits like the one Elena wore to dinner last night.
    She stifled a groan at the memory. Even a blind man could see Elena wasn’t thrilled Roxy would be working with her.
    What else can I do? Flip burgers at the local drive-in?
    She could flip burgers. She’d done that before. But it wasn’t much of a career path. If she couldn’t sing for a living ⎯ and it was quite clear that was not written in the stars ⎯ then she needed a job where she had some sort of future.
    The telephone rang twice, then stopped. A moment later, For- tuna called from upstairs. “Roxy, it’s for you.”
    “Got it.” She pressed the mute button on the remote and tossed it onto the coffee table before sliding across the sofa to pick up the portable phone. “Hello?”
    “Roxy Burke, is that you?” a female voice asked in a near squeal.
    “Yes.”
    “Can you guess who this is?” “I’m sorry. I don’t — ”
    “It’s Myra. Myra Adams. Well, it’s Myra Silverton now. I got married since you left town.”
    Roxy grinned. How could she not recognize Myra’s voice? “Married? I thought you went to South America.”
    “I did. But I came back. Like