The Sweet Gum Tree

Sweet tea, corn bread, and soup beans; everyday fare for eight-year-old Alix French, the precocious darling of a respected southern family. But nothing was ordinary about the day she met ten-year-old Nick Anderson, a boy from the wrong side of town. Armed with only a tin of bee balm and steely determination, Alix treats the raw evidence of a recent beating that mars his back, an act that changes both of their lives forever. Through childhood disasters and teenage woes they cling together as friendship turns to love. The future looks rosy until the fateful night when Frank Anderson, Nick's abusive father, is shot to death in his filthy trailer.

Suddenly, Nick is gone…leaving Alix alone, confused and pregnant. For the next fifteen years she wrestles with the pain of Nick's abandonment, a bad marriage, her family and friends. But finally, she's starting to get her life back together. Her divorce is almost final, her business is booming, and she's content if not happy-until the day she looks up and sees Nick standing across the counter. He's back…and he's not alone. Once again Alix is plunged into turmoil and pain as Nick tries to win her love, something she resists with all her strength. Only one thing might break the protective wall she's built around her emotions-the truth about Frank Anderson's death. But when that truth comes out and those walls crumble, neither Alix nor Nick is prepared for the emotional explosion that could destroy as well as heal.

Excerpt

"Hello, Peewee." Nick's soft voice rolled over me like molasses over a hot biscuit.

I stood there frozen, my heart pounding an erratic rhythm that made it hard to breathe, while my subconscious automatically catalogued his appearance. If anything, Jenna had understated the facts. He was taller, at least six-two, maybe more. No silver marred his thick hair, but it was shorter than I'd ever seen it before.

When he'd left fifteen years ago, his body, while well-developed, still retained boyish overtones, lanky and lean like the healthy young animal he was. Nothing about the man standing here now was boyish. He was dressed in black slacks, a black pullover shirt, and a black linen jacket that hit him just above the knees, the dark color serving to emphasize the deep bronze of his skin. And not even his clothing could hide the long thick muscles of his legs, the broad shoulders or the flat stomach.

His face had changed, too. All the roundness was gone, leaving hard lines and chiseled planes that loudly proclaimed here was a man who knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to go after it. A five o'clock shadow darkened his jaw. Only the dimples and the gray eyes were the same, and those I would have recognized anywhere.

The smile curving his lips faded a bit as I continued to stare at him silently, and he took a step closer. He held a set of rolled-up plans in one hand.

"Alix? Don't tell me you've forgotten me?"

By some miracle my voice came out cool and steady, even though inside I was trembling with a dozen conflicting emotions. "Nick. Jenna told me you were back." I put the papers down and shoved them toward him. "If you'll fill these out, we can see about getting your account opened."

A puzzled expression filled his eyes as he reached inside his jacket for a pen. "You look great, Alix."

"Thanks." I forced a smile. I'd gotten real good at pretending. I could do it even when I wanted to scream.

He pulled the forms closer and studied them a second before glancing back up. "How have you been?"

"Fine."

His gaze searched mine as he hesitated. "And Hugh? I heard the two of you are separated."

"You heard right." I pointed to the form. "Just fill in your address, phone number, social security number, and the name of your loan officer. We'll do the rest."

"I don't have a loan officer."

"Then the name and address of your bank will do."

He put down the information I'd requested, shooting glances at me the entire time. When he finished, he handed it across the counter.

"It was great seeing the Judge yesterday. He looks just like he always did."

"Yes, he does. I take it you're building a house on the land you're buying?"

"Alix, is something wrong?" His brows were lowered, mouth curving downward in a worried frown.

"Of course not." I refused to meet his eyes. He's simply another customer, I told myself. Ruthlessly, I ground my building anger under my heel and reached for the plans. I couldn't believe he was acting as though no time had passed, as though we could take up right where we'd left off. "It usually takes the bank a few days to get back to us on the applications, but if you'd like, we can make up a material list for you and have it ready to go."

"That will be fine."

Nick's gaze burned into me while I unrolled the plans, but I ignored him. "Have you decided on a contractor yet? If you haven't, we keep a list…" My voice trailed off as I stared down at the blueprint, and everything in me went still.

The year I was eighteen, when Hugh had been after me to go look at the houses in Fair Oaks, I'd come across a picture in a magazine. It was of an old farmhouse that had been restored, and I'd fallen instantly in love with the sweeping porches, wide expanses of glass, the half-dozen gables, and the old fashioned flower beds full of hollyhocks, roses and honeysuckle. It hadn't been just a house to me, it was what a home should be.

Cutting it carefully from the magazine, I'd clipped it to a blank sheet of paper and then spent hours designing the inside. It was my dream house, the one I would have built if I'd had any choice in the matter. And now it stared back at me from Nick's blueprints, every detail exactly as I'd drawn it.

"What do you think?" He asked, his voice soft, hopeful.

"Where did you get this?" My hands were shaking so hard the paper rattled.

"From you. You left it in my room one night, and I've been carrying it around with me for the last fifteen years. When I knew we were coming back, I had the plans drawn up from your sketches. I wasn't sure you'd remember it."

Not only did I remember it, I remembered the night I left it. We'd made love, one of the last times we'd spent together in his room, and I hadn't thought to take my drawings with me when I'd left. By the time I did think about them again, Nick was gone and I'd married Hugh. I had assumed the plans were thrown away when Aunt Darla cleaned out the room.

Now Nick was going to build it. For him and Lindsey. My anger boiled, seethed until I could barely speak. "I see." The plans rolled up with a snap as I released them. "Kenny can figure it up for you. When you get the foundation down, just call him and he'll get the material delivered out to you."

"Alix…" He reached for my hand, but I pulled away just as movement from his left caught my attention. I never found out what he intended to say because my legs went rubbery and I couldn't breathe. All I could do was stare at the boy who'd stopped beside him. It was like seeing Nick again as he'd been at fifteen, like seeing a male version of what Katie would be if she'd lived.

"Hey, Dad. Bowie is taking Lindsey and me to Jonesboro for supper and to do some shopping. He wants to know if we should wait on you."

The expression on Nick's face when he looked at the boy screamed love and pride. Casually, he slung an arm around the young man's shoulders. "Daniel, this is Alix French. Alix, this is my son, Daniel."

Twin dimples popped out when Daniel grinned and my heart stuttered to a standstill. Agonizing pain ripped through me as he extended a hand.

"Hi. It's a pleasure. Dad's told me all about you."

Somehow, I managed to shake his hand and welcome him to Morganville, all while my brain chanted over and over, "he's Katie's brother-he's Katie's brother."