Forever Spring Read Online Free PDF Page A

to Karen that Paul unconditionally adored his son. Being in the same emotional condition concerning her own boys, she could appreciate the pride shining from his eyes.
    “My son Peter is—special.” Paul went still as his eyes widened fractionally. “Good Lord!” he muttered.
    “What?” Even though his voice had been low, the tone of it affected Karen like a shout. “What is it?” she asked, glancing around as if she expected to see a visible cause for his distress.
    Paul gave a sharp shake of his head. “I told Peter I’d call him this evening.” He sighed. “And now I’ve very likely got both Peter and his wife Patricia worried.”
    Not quite understanding his agitation, Karen motioned toward the hallway. “There’s a phone less than ten feet away from you in the hall. Be my guest.” Paul’s expression changed instantly. A teasing gleam sprang into his eyes to banish the shadow of concern. “It’s a long-distance call. My son lives in Philadelphia.”
    Karen sipped her wine daintily before responding in a dry tone. “I’m in an expansive mood.” She indicated the foyer with a negligent wave. “Better take advantage of it. It doesn’t happen often.”
    “You’re a bit austere with the purse strings?” “Nooo...” Karen drew the word out slowly. “I’m a true product of my New England upbringing and very austere with the purse strings.” Her soft lips tightened. “It was one of the biggest bones of contention between me and Charles.”
    “Charles?” That one softly spoken word from Paul reversed the roles again.
    Karen sighed into her delicate glass and took a deep, fortifying swallow. “Charles Mitchell.”
    “Your former husband?”
    She nodded once, then attempted to deflect the question she could see hovering on his lips. “Aren’t you going to make that call?”
    Paul’s slow smile sent Karen’s hopes crashing down in flames. “It’ll keep until morning. So will Peter. I’ll catch him at the office.”
    She gave it one last shot. “But you said they’ll worry.”
    “They’re used to it.” His drawl was heavy. “They’ve been angsting over me for nearly six months. Another night won’t make much difference either way.”
    His enigmatic statement sank a solid hook into Karen’s already aroused interest in him. She wanted to know everything, anything, about him. Paul didn’t allow her the seconds needed to sort her queries into a semblance of order.
    “You were telling me about Charles,” he said, scattering her thoughts.
    “I was?” She gulped at her wine and suddenly the glass was empty. Frowning at it, she held it out for refilling.
    “Well, no,” Paul admitted, tipping the bottle over her glass. “But I was hoping you would.” Topping off his own glass, he lounged in the roomy chair and offered her a bland, innocent look.
    Karen wasn’t fooled for an instant; but she did feel inordinately thirsty. After several more deep swallows of the wine, her tongue loosened considerably. “What exactly did you hope to find out?” She didn’t hear the fuzzy sound of her voice, but Paul did. He fought the urge to smile.
    “Would it be terribly crass of me to admit to hoping to hear the entire story?”
    “Terribly,” Karen muttered into her glass before taking another gulp. “But as I said, I’m in a strange, expansive mood tonight.”
    Not to mention slightly into your cups. Paul decided Karen was both cute and attractive with her Yankee edges blurred, but prudently kept his thoughts to himself. “Then I’ll be crass and ask for the story, from the beginning.”
    Karen worked at an affronted expression and failed miserably. To salve her feelings, she took another sip of wine. “I met Charles Mitchell while in my junior year of college in Boston.” Her lips twisted self-mockingly. “I was in love, married and two months pregnant before the start of my senior year. Needless to say, I never did graduate.”
    Pondering the twinge of emotion he felt stab at his