First Impressions

weeks after he met her he would be planning to ask her to marry him, finding himself ready to toss his company into a frenzy of rush and preparation so that she wouldn’t have to give up her home or the life she had chosen for herself?
    Once he’d explained the circumstances, Vance told himself as he crunched through frosted leaves, she’d understand. One of Shane’s most endearing qualities was understanding. And she loved him. If he was sure of nothing else, he was sure of that. She loved him without questions, without demands. No one had ever given him so much for so little. He intended to spend the rest of his life showing her just what that meant to him.
    He imagined that once the surprise of what he had to tell her had worn off, she would laugh. The money, the position he could offer her would mean nothing. She would probably find it funny that the president of Riverton had cut and hammered the trim in her kitchen.
    Telling her about Amelia would be more difficult, but it would be done—completely. He wouldn’t pass over his first marriage, but would tell her everything and rely on her to understand. He wanted to tell her that she had been responsible for softening his guilt, lightening his bitterness. Loving her was the only genuine emotion he’d felt in years. Tonight, he would open up his past long enough to let the air in; then he would ask Shane to share his future.
    Still, Vance felt a twinge of apprehension as he approached her house. He might have ignored it if it hadn’t been for the sudden realization that all the windows were dark. It was odd, he thought, unconsciously increasing his pace. She was certainly home, not only because her car was there, but because he knew she was expecting him. But why in God’s name, he wondered, wasn’t there a single light on? Vance tried to push away a flood of pure anxiety as he reached the back door.
    It was unlocked. Though he entered without knocking, he called her name immediately. The house remained dark and silent. Hitting a switch, Vance flooded the rear showroom with light. A quick glance showed him nothing amiss before he continued through the first floor.
    “Shane?”
    The quiet was beginning to disturb him even more than the darkness. After making a quick circle of the lower floor, he went upstairs. At once he caught the scent of cooking. But the kitchen was empty. Absently turning off the oven, Vance went back into the hall. The thought struck him that she might have lain down after closing the shop and had simply fallen asleep. Amused more than concerned now, he walked quietly into her bedroom. All the amusement fled when he saw her curled up in the chair.
    Though the room was in darkness, there was enough moonlight to make her out clearly. She wasn’t asleep, but was curled up tightly with her head resting on the arm of the chair. He’d never seen her like that. His first thought was that she looked lost; then he corrected himself. Stricken. There was no innate vivacity in her eyes, and her face glowed palely in the silvery light of the moon. He might have thought her ill, but something told him that even in illness Shane wouldn’t lose all of her spark. The thought ran through his mind in only seconds before he crossed the room to her. She made no sign that she saw him, nor was there any response when he spoke her name again. Vance knelt in front of her and took her chilled hands.
    “Shane.”
    For a moment, she stared at him blankly. Then, as though a dam had burst, desperate emotion flooded her eyes. “Vance,” she said brokenly, throwing her arms around his neck. “Oh, Vance.”
    She trembled violently but didn’t weep. The tears were dry as stone inside her. With her face pressed into his shoulder, she clung to him, breaking out of the numbed shock that had followed her earlier bout of tears. It was the warmth of him that made her realize how cold she had been. Without questions, with both strength and sweetness he held her to him.
    “Vance, I’m so glad you’re here. I need you.”
    The words struck him more forcibly than even her declaration of love. Up to that moment he had been almost uncomfortably aware that his needs far outweighed hers. Now it seemed there was something he could do for her, if it was only to listen.
    “What happened, Shane?” Gently he drew her away only far enough to look into her eyes. “Can you tell me?”
    She drew a raw breath, making him eloquently aware of the effort it cost her to speak.