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  THE BELL over the door in Steffie Wyler’s ice-cream shop rang and Steffie glanced up as the latest group entered the small one-time crabber’s shack that now served as Scoop’s home, and her words died in her throat. Dallas MacGregor, a regular customer, came into the shop, trailed by her great-aunt and the tall, ridiculously handsome guy who’d been the object of Steffie’s affection—and lust—since before she was old enough to know the difference between, well, affection and lust.

  She tried to ignore the smile of recognition that spread across his face when he saw her. Tried just as unsuccessfully to keep her heart rate under control. Tried to push from her mind the scenes her imagination had conjured up of Wade walking into Scoop—like he just had, all nonchalant and gorgeous, smiling a special smile just for her—at which time she put the CLOSED sign on the door and they fell into each other’s arms and frantically—

  “I said two scoops of chocolate,” the customer she was waiting on waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention. “That’s pistachio.”

  ALSO BY MARIAH STEWART

  Home Again

  Coming Home

  Acts of Mercy

  Cry Mercy

  Mercy Street

  Last Breath

  Last Words

  Last Look

  Final Truth

  Dark Truth

  Hard Truth

  Cold Truth

  Dead End

  Dead Even

  Dead Certain

  Dead Wrong

  Forgotten

  Until Dark

  The President’s Daughter

  Almost Home is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  A Ballantine Books Mass Market Original

  Copyright © 2011 by Marti Robb

  Excerpt from Coming Home copyright © 2010 by Marti Robb

  Excerpt from Home Again copyright © 2010 by Marti Robb

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  BALLANTINE and colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  eISBN: 978-0-345-52038-8

  www.ballantinebooks.com

  Cover artwork: Chris Cocozza

  v3.1

  To Kate Collins—come what may

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  As always, many thanks to the stellar team at Ballantine Books: Kate Collins, Linda Marrow, Scott Shannon, Libby McGuire, Kim Hovey, Gina Wachtel, Kelli Fillingim, Junessa Viloria, Scott Biel, Kirstin Fassler, and Quinne Rogers. (I hope I haven’t forgotten anyone!)

  Once again, the ADWOFF raffle benefitting the Nora Roberts Foundation resulted in a reader having won the right to have her name used for a character in one of my future books. Cindy Sims, the future is now! And thanks to Phyllis Lannik’s kind heads up, Cindy’s mother made a cameo appearance. I hope Helen Kay Hinson would have approved.

  Thanks as always to my agent, Loretta Barrett, and the crew at Barrett Books.

  Many thanks to the crew at the Borders Express, Springfield Mall, Springfield, PA, but especially to Maureen and Jenn. You guys most certainly do rock!

  And last but God knows, never least—hugs to Chery Griffin aka Victoria Alexander for sharing some extra fine whine this time around.

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Books by This Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Excerpt from Coming Home

  Excerpt from Home Again

  THE high school gym had been transformed into a fantasy in white. Small twinkling lights were draped everywhere, from the fake palm trees that lined the walls to the bandstand where the DJ hired for the occasion kept the music playing. Huge pots, spray-painted glossy white, sported arrangements of white flowers—roses, gladiola, hydrangea—all dusted with glitter. Here and there throughout the room, white helium balloons were gathered into bouquets that bobbled and floated. A silver glitter ball overhead spun continuously, a gaudy moon that cast a shimmering glow over the dancing couples beneath it.

  The theme for Bayside High’s senior prom, Candle in the Wind—no doubt inspired by the tragic death of England’s Princess Diana—had been taken literally by the decorating committee, who’d planned for one thousand white candles to flicker throughout the gym all night long. Unfortunately, Principal Naylor—obviously a man without a single romantic bone in his portly body—had put the kibosh on that idea, citing the fire codes.

  Steffie Wyler snuggled up to her date and swayed to the music. Like so many of the other girls, she’d had her hair done that afternoon, and had her nails—fingers and toes—done as well. She spent hours in front of the mirror perfecting her makeup, then another few hours second-guessing her choice of gown. And like so many of the others, Steffie had chosen a white gown. But where most of her friends had picked white satin, Steffie’s dress was white chiffon. She’d seen it in the window of a shop in Annapolis and begged her mother to let her try it on. Simple in design, it had a wide swath of chiffon over her left shoulder, a sweetheart neckline, and a skirt that flowed around her body when she moved.

  Steffie had been on the fence about it when the saleswoman stepped into her dressing room and said, “Oh, my, you look like a Greek goddess in that dress.” Which in itself would have been sufficient, but when she added, “So hard to believe you’re only seventeen,” Stef was sold. Ordinarily, her age wouldn’t be an issue, but tonight, it was very much on her mind, since her date was four years older than she was.

  Not that it bothered Stef—she couldn’t have cared less how old he was. In her eyes, Wade MacGregor was the perfect man, or at the very least, the perfect man for her. She’d known him for as long as she could remember, so long that she had no recollection of ever having met him. He was part of her life in St. Dennis, or had been, until he left for college in Texas four years ago. Up until then, she’d seen him almost daily. He sailed with her brother, Grant, and in the summers, he worked painting houses with a couple guys in his class, Clay Madison and Cameron O’Connor. On any given day she could—and did—walk real slowly past whatever house they were painting just to look at him. Wade was always tall for his age, and in the summers, his sandy-blond hair lightened a few shades and his skin tanned nicely. Oh, yes—Wade MacGregor was the perfect guy.

  The fact that he’d always had a girlfriend when he was in high school hadn’t deterred Steffie one bit. She knew he was the guy for her, and once he figured that out, they’d live happily ever after.

  She just wished he’d hurry up and see the light.

  Tonight, she wasn’t thinking of any of that. Prom night was supposed to be special—magical—and Stef was determined that she would have her share of special memories. The fact that she’d had to trick Wade into being her date—and trick her mother into letting her go with him—no longer mattered. She was certain that once he saw her in her goddess-gown, once he held her close enough to see
that they fit together just right, once she kissed him—well, he’d feel the magic, too. He’d see that they were Meant to Be.

  She did wish the magic would kick in soon, though. So far he’d seemed … indifferent wasn’t exactly the right word. She’d seen the way he looked at her when she flowed down the steps in her goddess-gown. But so far, he’d kept his distance, thwarting every move she made to get closer.

  Finally, the last dance was announced, and she rested her head on his shoulder, singing along with Shania that he was still the one, meaning every word. She could hardly wait to get into the auditorium, where they’d watch a movie compliments of the parents association—an event intended to keep the kids under their watchful eyes for as long as possible, though it was anyone’s guess what was going on in the back rows once the lights went out. The movie—Titanic—was a love story for the ages. Surely that would put Wade—and every other guy in the auditorium—in a romantic mood.

  Her first clue that the rest of the evening wasn’t going to go the way she’d planned came when they filed into the room and Wade led her down the aisle to sit in the first row, pretending not to hear her protestations that they sit in the back. The second was the news that the film they’d received was defective, and instead of Titanic, they’d be watching Men in Black, an announcement that was met with cheers from most of the guys and boos from the girls.

  The night’s final insult came when Wade drove her home, walked her to her front door, and attempted to open it for her—without kissing her good night.

  It wasn’t as if he’d had to wonder if she wanted to kiss him. She’d stood in front of the door and wrapped her arms around his neck, closed her eyes, and puckered up.

  “Ah, Stef …,” he’d said as he gently unwound her arms and held her hands in his. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Don’t you like me, Wade?”

  “I like you a lot, Stef. I really do. I always have.”

  “Then why don’t you want to kiss me?”

  “Stef, when do you turn eighteen?”

  “In August. Why?”

  “In October, I’ll turn twenty-two.”

  “So?” It was all she could do to keep from sounding whiny.

  “So, you are underage. I’m twenty-one.”

  “I repeat, so?”

  “I’m too old for you, Stef. Next week, I’m flying back to Texas for graduation.”

  “I still don’t understand what that has to do with you kissing me.” She pouted.

  “Some might think I was taking advantage of you.”

  “Yeah, like who?” she asked defiantly.

  “Like, oh, your big brother, for one.”

  “You’re not afraid of Grant, are you?”

  “Whether or not I’m afraid isn’t the point.”

  “Then what is?” She all but stamped her foot.

  “Your brother is my friend, he’s on my sailing team. I like and respect him. I would not want him to think I was toying with the affections of his little sister.”

  “Younger sister,” she emphasized. “And you’re not toying with me. And if you think I’m too young for you, why did you come with me tonight?”

  “Look, I felt really bad about your date getting in that car accident and you being left without—” He stopped and stared down at her. “That didn’t really happen, did it?”

  “What difference would it make?” She avoided his eyes.

  “You made that up, didn’t you? The story about the guy flipping his car over and being in a coma …”

  She shrugged. “It could have happened …”

  Wade burst out laughing. “You did make it all up. Here I’ve been feeling sorry for a guy who doesn’t even exist.” He squeezed her hand. “Stef, why’d you do that?”

  “Because I wanted to go to my prom with you. I told my mom and she said I couldn’t ask you because you were in college and you were too much older.” The whole sorry story spilled out. “So I told her I’d asked someone else, a guy from another school, and then three days ago I told her he was sick and he couldn’t go but I’d find someone else to take me. I knew you’d be home this weekend because I heard Grant on the phone with you about six weeks ago talking about entering Sunday’s race.”

  “So three weeks ago you knew this poor guy was going to be sick and/or in a coma and wouldn’t be able to go, so you lined me up.”

  “Something like that.”

  “What would you have done if I’d said no?”

  She shrugged. “Three weeks before the prom, I’d still be able to get a date.” She paused, then asked, “If I’d told you the truth, would you have been my date tonight?”

  “Probably not.”

  She pulled her hand away and turned toward the door. He grabbed her by the arm to stop her from bolting into the house.

  “Stef, you are a beautiful girl …”

  “Oh, please do not say, ‘Someday you’ll meet someone who’s just right for you.’ ” She closed her eyes. “Tell me you weren’t going to say that.”

  “I was going to say that. And it’s true. Someday you will.”

  “I don’t want anyone else.” There. She’d said it. She kept her eyes closed so that she wouldn’t have to see his face.

  “Stef, I’m going back to Texas in two weeks,” he said gently, “and I’m staying there. I’m not coming back to St. Dennis.”

  “What? Not ever?” Her eyes flew open. “But I wanted you to come to my graduation party.”

  “I’ll be here for that. And I’ll be back to see my aunt Berry from time to time, but I’m going to be living and working in Texas.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I have an opportunity to go into business with a friend, and it’s what I want to do.”

  She could hardly speak. The thought that Wade would leave St. Dennis forever had never occurred to her.

  “You’re going to have a great life, Stef, I’m sure of it. Whether you’re here in St. Dennis or somewhere else.”

  He leaned down and kissed her on the temple, then reached around her and pushed open the door.

  “Good night, Stef. Thanks for sharing your prom night with me. It’s been my pleasure.”

  He walked off the porch and down the front steps and went right to his car. Before he got into the driver’s side, he raised his hand to wave good-bye. Pretending not to have seen, she turned her head and ran into the house.

  Spring–Current Year

  The wedding had been like a fairy tale, with a fairytale princess of a bride and her handsome groom exchanging their vows in the rose garden of a historic and stately inn overlooking the Chesapeake Bay. Steffie Wyler watched her best friend, Vanessa Keaton, march back down the aisle on the arm of one of the bride’s brothers. The two of them looked like they could be the star attractions of the day, with Vanessa in her bridesmaid gown and Grady Shields, her escort, handsome in his tux.

  Steffie stood at the bar. It had been a perfect day not only for the wedding couple, but for Vanessa and Grady, who were so indisputably perfect for each other. It had been one of those weddings that made you say “Ahhhhhh,” one of those days so overflowing with love and romance that one could easily believe that there was indeed magic in the air.

  “Hey, Steffie.” A hand touched her bare upper arm as the soft male voice spoke her name.

  She turned and looked into the eyes of the man she’d dreamed of since she was a teenager.

  “Hey yourself, Wade.” She smiled as she moved to one side to make room for him at the bar. “I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend.” Which, of course, was a lie. Vanessa, being the sister of the groom, had seen the guest list, and she’d clued Steffie in to the fact that her old crush, Wade MacGregor, would be back in town for the wedding.

  “I wouldn’t have missed Beck’s wedding.” Wade grinned as he signaled for the bartender. “Hell, Beck getting married is almost cause for a national holiday.”

  “There are some who did believe the day would never come”—sh
e nodded—“but of course, that was before Mia Shields hit town.”

  Wade watched the bride and groom pose for photos on the lawn. “She seems like a really nice girl.”

  “She is. She’s super. He’s very much aware that he’s a very lucky man.”

  “Good for him. He deserves to be happy. Beck’s a heck of a guy.”

  “The best,” Steffie agreed.

  The bartender approached, and Wade turned to Steffie. “Another champagne?”

  “Sure.” She smiled. “Thanks.”

  Wade ordered the glass of champagne, then asked the bartender, “Do you have KenneMac beer on tap?”

  “What kind of beer?” The bartender leaned forward as if he hadn’t heard.

  “KenneMac.”

  The bartender shook his head.

  “I’ll just have whatever you have on draft, then,” Wade told him.

  “What kind of beer did you ask for?” Stef wasn’t sure she’d heard, either.

  Wade grinned. “KenneMac. It’s the beer I make back in Texas. KenneMac is the name of the company. I knew he didn’t have it. We’ve barely moved into Oklahoma.”

  “Oh.” She nodded. “You could probably get a few of your old cronies to ask for it. Start a trend.”

  The two glasses were served, and Wade handed Stef her champagne.

  “Here’s to the happy couple.” Wade tilted his glass in Steffie’s direction, and they touched rims, drank from their glasses.

  “You’re looking good, Stef,” Wade said, catching her off guard. “You always look good, but tonight you look especially pretty.”

  “Thanks, Wade,” was all she could think of to say. Had he ever complimented her like that before?

  It must be the dress, she thought, smoothing the skirt of water-colored silk that looked like one of Monet’s gardens. She’d bought it at Vanessa’s shop, Bling, because it had looked so damned good on her. And because it had looked so good, Ness had given her a really good discount. She’d hoped to catch Wade’s eye tonight, and after having decided that she looked like a goddess in the dress, figured it was her best bet.