Love Enough For Two (Love Inspired)

“We didn’t deserve to be forgiven, but God forgave us. Can we do any less for others?” she added.

Matt found himself wondering if they were just words or if she really believed them. It was ironic that the things that were so hard in life always sounded so simple. He fixed his gaze on Sierra. “Have you forgiven the man who hurt you?”

Sierra lowered her gaze to the mug on the table and, after a long moment, shook her head.

“Then you understand,” he said in a low tone, “how hard it can be to do the right thing.”

“I do.” Sierra sighed. “And I’m beginning to realize that you and I have more in common than I thought. I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.”

The sentiment took Matt by surprise. He frowned. “I thought that you wanted to get to know me.”

“I did,” she said. “But somehow I thought I’d like you less, not more.”

The tightness that had gripped Matt’s shoulders eased, and his lips curved in a smug smile. “I knew you liked me.”

What is impossible with men is possible with God.

—
Luke
18:27

“Y
ou are not through with men.” Dottie Fuller rolled her eyes. The retired high-school drama teacher had worked at the small Santa Barbara antique store for as long as Sierra Summers could remember. With her bright red hair, oversize white-framed glasses and flamboyant clothes, the jovial widow was one of the brightest fixtures in the downtown historic district. “Trust me, you’ll go through withdrawal if you cut yourself off cold turkey.”

“I’m serious,” Sierra said, popping a root-beer barrel from the candy stash behind the counter. Last week’s date with her new insurance agent had been fun…until she’d discovered he was married. “Men are scum. Brad Pitt could walk through the door and I wouldn’t even give him a second glance.”

“That’s because you don’t like blondes,” Dottie said with a smile and Sierra had to laugh.

Though she’d only been working with Dottie for two weeks, Sierra had quickly discovered no matter what her mood, Dottie could always make her smile. “You wait. You think I’m kidding, but I’m not. I—”

Sierra’s breath caught in her throat.

Dottie turned from the wall where she’d been straightening a stack of books and followed Sierra’s gaze through the picture window at the front of the shop. The older woman’s smile widened at the sight of the dark-haired stranger standing on the sidewalk. “Quite a hunk, don’t you think?”

“He’s okay,” Sierra said, with an offhand shrug. But despite her dismissive tone, her gaze remained focused on the man.

He stood talking to a tall blond-haired guy. Sierra dismissed the other man instantly. Jerry’s hair had been straw-colored and no matter how much Sierra tried to tell herself that each person was an individual and should be judged on their own merits, guys with blond hair didn’t appeal to her.

But the dark-haired man, the one who had first caught her eye, was a different story. Though he had a confident stance usually reserved for men much older, she’d guess he was only in his late twenties. She couldn’t tell the color of his eyes at this distance, but his hair was a dark brown, a little too short for her taste, but she had to admit the style accentuated his Grecian profile.

“If I were fifty years younger, I’d go for him.” Dottie moved closer to the front of the store and studied the stranger as if he were an actor she was ready to cast in a play. After looking him over carefully, from the bottom of his brown loafers to his khakis to the burgundy chino shirt, Dottie nodded. “He’s definitely leading-man material.”

Sierra turned and pretended to study a vase shaped like a snake. “He’s probably married.”

Or a heartless jerk.

“No wedding ring.” Dottie shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” Sierra interrupted the older woman, not wanting to hear the direction of that line of thought. “I told you. I’m done with men.”

The German cuckoo clock announced the hour and Sierra shoved all thoughts of the male species aside. It was nearly time to pick up Maddie from preschool.

“By the way, how is the munchkin doing?” Dottie asked. “Has she gotten the hang of that new shoe yet?”

It didn’t surprise Sierra that Dottie had followed her train of thought. The woman had an uncanny knack for knowing what she was thinking.

“She’s doing better,” Sierra said. “And every day she’s gaining more strength.”

“She’s lucky to have you,” Dottie said. “If it wasn’t for your hard work, she probably wouldn’t be walking so well yet.”

Sierra just shrugged. Dottie had it all wrong. If she’d been a better mother, Maddie wouldn’t have suffered needlessly. She should have ignored that court order and refused to let Jerry take her that day. But even though he was a philandering jerk, she’d never thought he’d hurt his own daughter….

“I’m going to finish cataloguing the new stuff.” Sierra headed straight to the back room knowing if she delayed even a second longer, Dottie would notice the tears stinging the backs of her eyes.

Once inside the cool storage area, Sierra took a deep breath to compose herself. She tried not to dwell on the past. After all, it couldn’t be changed. But every so often the realization would hit her; he could have killed Maddie.

Thank you, God, for protecting my little girl.

“Pssst.” Dottie’s voice sounded from the doorway. “There’s someone here to see you.”

Sierra brushed the remaining tears from her eyes and turned. “Who is it?”

Dottie’s eyes sparkled and she giggled. “Guess.”

A knot formed in the pit of Sierra’s stomach. “Who?”

“Mr. Good-looking himself.” Dottie’s stage whisper would have reached the back row if she’d been in a theatre. “You know what this means, don’t you? You two were destined to meet.”

Sierra frowned. “Did he ask for me? Or did he want to see Libby?”

Though on the surface it might seem a strange question, Dottie didn’t bat an eye.

“Libby,” Dottie said.

Sierra and her best friend Elizabeth “Libby” Carlyle had switched places for the summer. Libby had come up with the crazy idea when she’d decided her money was making her miserable. Still, Sierra hadn’t balked. She’d been more than willing to trade in her hand-to-mouth existence for a chance to live the life of a wealthy heiress.

Other than Sierra’s mother, Dottie was the only other person who’d been told of the switch. Dottie had labeled the idea “great fun” and had immediately taken Sierra under her wing. Thanks to Dottie’s help, the first two weeks of managing Libby’s business had gone by without a hitch. But then, no one had ever come asking for Libby before.

“Does he know her?” Sierra asked.

Dottie shook her head. “I don’t think so. He asked for Elizabeth.”

Sierra breathed a sigh of relief. Only telemarketers called her friend “Elizabeth.” “Let me just freshen my makeup and I’ll be right out.”

“Good idea.” Dottie nodded her approval. “Don’t rush. I’ll keep him entertained and—”

“Excuse me.” A deep voice from the doorway interrupted Sierra’s thoughts and Dottie’s words.

Sierra shifted her gaze and her breath caught in her throat. He was even more striking up close. He stood nearly a head taller than she, and there wasn’t an ounce of fat on his lean, conditioned body. And his eyes…

Her heart skipped a beat. She’d never seen a man with such beautiful blue eyes. Despite her resolve to keep any and all members of the male species at arm’s length, she decided it wouldn’t hurt to be friendly.

But though Sierra felt especially cute today in her low-slung black pants and tiny T-shirt, his gaze remained focused on Dottie. It was as if he’d decided Sierra was just another clerk.

“Mrs. Fuller,” he said. “I’m afraid something has come up and I need to go. I’ll call or stop back tomorrow.”

“But Ms. Carlyle is right—”

“Here’s my card,” he said, not giving her a chance to finish. “Tell her I’ll be in touch.”

He gave Dottie a warm smile before shifting his gaze momentarily to Sierra. “Sorry to interrupt.”

He was gone before she could respond. Sierra’s gaze followed him through the lobby.

“What do you say now?” Dottie’s voice held a smug note. “I’d say he’s more than just ‘okay,’ wouldn’t you?”

Sierra had to laugh. Though she would have liked to disagree, she wasn’t in the mood for one of Dottie’s Pinocchio lectures. “You’re right,” she admitted. “He is a hunk.”

“And so familiar.” Dottie’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. “I know I’ve seen him before. I just can’t place where.”

“You’ve got his card,” Sierra reminded her. “Maybe his name will jog your memory.”

Dottie raised the card to eye level.

“He’s probably a salesman,” Sierra said. “Or maybe a collector—”

“I can’t believe it,” Dottie interrupted, her eyes almost as wide as her supersize frames. “I mean, I knew I saw a resemblance. But I never thought…”

Sierra rolled her eyes at the older woman’s theatrics.

“Give me that.” She took the business card from Dottie’s hands. “You’d think the guy was famous or something.”

Sierra shifted her attention to the card. She read the name. Her smile faded. She blinked and read it again.

A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. “I can’t believe it.”

Dottie leaned over Sierra’s shoulder and stared at the card. She slanted a sideways glance at Sierra. “I told you he looked familiar.”

Dottie was right. The resemblance was uncanny. Prickles of alarm skidded up her spine.

Sierra’s gaze returned to the card.

To the thick premium card stock.

To the elegant understated lettering.

To the name: Matthew Dixon, Esquire, Attorney-at-Law, Dixon and Associates, Los Angeles.

Dottie’s eyes took on a faraway look. “It’s uncanny. He’s the spitting image of his father at a younger age.”

Sierra tilted her head. “Do you know his father?”

“I knew Dix way back when. Before he made it big,” Dottie said simply. “But that was a long time ago.”

“Was he an arrogant jerk then, too?” A trace of bitterness laced Sierra’s tone.

Understanding filled Dottie’s gaze and she patted Sierra’s hand. “I’d forgotten that I’m not the only one acquainted with him.”

“Jerry came out smelling like a rose,” Sierra said. “Not only with the divorce but for the child-abuse charges, as well.”

It took all of Sierra’s self-control to stop there, to stifle the harsh words that would tell Dottie exactly what she thought of Lawrence “Dix” Dixon. The man was a barracuda, a well-known, high-priced L.A. attorney who catered to the wealthy. Messy divorces were his specialty.

The day after Sierra had walked out on her husband, his parents hired Dix to protect their only son’s “interests.” After all, Jerry was worth millions and California was a community-property state.

The split hadn’t been amicable. Though the divorce petition had cited irreconcilable differences, the real reason could be conveyed in one succinct word: infidelity.

It wasn’t as if Jerry could refute her accusations. After all, she’d caught him in the act. Twice.

The first time was when she was pregnant with Maddie. She’d been tempted to leave him then, but Jerry had professed his love, begged her forgiveness and promised he’d never again stray. With their baby’s delivery only weeks away, Sierra had more than herself and her feelings to consider. After much prayer, she’d given him another chance.

But a little over two years later, she’d come home early from a neighborhood meeting and discovered his promises meant nothing. This time Sierra had packed her bags, taken her daughter and filed for divorce.

Jerry had gone crazy when he finally realized she wasn’t coming back. A couple of times he’d gotten so worked up she’d been afraid he might hit her.

She’d shared her concerns with her attorney and told him she’d didn’t want Jerry around Maddie, not when he was so volatile.

But Jerry had no history of violent behavior and Dix had gotten the courts to order that she comply with the temporary visitation order. Against her better judgment, she’d let Maddie go with him that day almost two years ago.

Sitting in that emergency room with her daughter, Sierra had vowed Jerry would never again have the opportunity to hurt her baby. Though Sierra had never planned to take a dime of Jerry’s money, she wasn’t above using her claim on his fortune as a bargaining chip.

She told him she’d give up all rights to any money if he’d relinquish all parental rights to their daughter. If he didn’t, she’d bleed him dry.

To her surprise he’d balked, insisting that he loved Maddie and what had happened was just an “accident.” But Sierra had stood firm and in the end Dix had convinced Jerry that accepting the deal was in his best interests.

“Didn’t he also handle Stella Carlyle’s divorces?” Dottie asked, her words pulling Sierra back from the painful memories.

“All three of them,” Sierra said. “Libby always said her mother wouldn’t even consider anyone else.”

The alarm on Sierra’s watch buzzed and she welcomed the interruption. It was three o’clock and her workday was over. Being rich, even if it was just for the summer, held some distinct advantages.

Sierra reached into her pocket and pulled out her car keys, shoving all troubling thoughts aside. She’d promised Maddie they’d go to Dairy Queen for chocolate ice-cream cones after preschool and she wasn’t about to disappoint her. “Time to go.”

Dottie didn’t answer immediately, her mind clearly elsewhere. Two lines of worry furrowed her forehead. “What do you think Matthew Dixon wants with Libby?”

Sierra thought for a moment. Any time an attorney came calling, the news wasn’t good. She tapped the card absently against the top of an eighteenth-century gaming table. “I don’t know. But after Maddie and I get some ice cream, I’m going to find out.”