Never Too Late by Robyn Carr

businessman. He’d made plenty of money. It might’ve been shortsighted of her at the time, leaving so suddenly, but since seeing the blonde in her bed, the thought of thatmaster bedroom she had once found so luxurious and comfortable had lost all its appeal.
    However, there was a guest room and bath on the ground level. She could live there, manage the downstairs easily with her crutches, and rely on Jason to get up and down the stairs as necessary.
    She could not live with Roger, though. And neither could her son. Just trying to get him to visit his father had so far proved impossible.
    If she’d thought it through, she could have suggested that she and Roger temporarily trade homes—he could have her town house, she could have the home she’d lived in for ten years. But thinking things through while lying in a hospital bed in excruciating pain had not been possible.
    She called Maggie and said, “I wonder if you could do me a favor. Would you be willing to suggest to Roger that he move out of our house and let me have it when I’m ready to live on my own again? That’s going to be real soon.”
    Maggie didn’t respond at once, but finally in a voice both surprised and pleased said, “I’d be more than happy to.”
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    Maggie had always felt a bit underappreciated by her family. Here she was with her degree in law, a successful practice, an enormous number of important contacts, and they not only rarely asked her for help, they sometimes eschewed her advice. It was exactly the opposite to what other attorneys complained of. In fact, her own father was going to pay another lawyer to do his will and living trust. Sometimes it was insulting.
    Every time Clare began making noises about divorcing Roger, Maggie tried to counsel her. Clare had always been more than willing to complain about her marriage, but she was never prepared to discuss doing something about it. But the accident had changed everything. Clare needed Maggie to deal with the insurance company, the lease on the town house, and now this. Maggie was secretly thrilled. And she was going to do right by her sister.
    She took a large chunk out of her busy day, putting paying clients on hold, to track down Roger. She went to his office in downtown Breckenridge, not really expecting to find him there. Roger liked to be out and about and did most of his business, and his running around, all over this town and those nearby. At least that was what she expected—to have to chase him down at a restaurant or client’s home. But his secretary reported him home sick.
    Hah! she thought. She decided her trip to the house would be a mere formality, for he would not be there. His illness was an excuse given to the secretary, surely. Roger was probably in some no-tell motel. Or…Maybe with Clare pinned down at their dad’s he was using the house as some trysting place. All the better. She’d love to catch him in the act and make him feel like the low-life he was.
    So she rang the bell and banged forcefully on the door.
    It opened quickly. “Maggie?” he said in question.
    She did a double take. There stood Roger looking worse than she’d ever seen him. His clothes looked as though he’d slept in them, his thick mane of golden hair was on the greasy side and his eyes were red rimmed.
    â€œJesus, Roger, you look like hell,” she said in surprise.
    â€œYeah? Well, what did you expect?” he asked, turning and walking back into the house. He headed down the hall toward the family room where the television could be heard softly droning.
    She was left to follow, thinking this was an odd twist. Roger was handsome, damn him. And he pampered his looks, especially that Robert Redford hair. He was fussy about his clothes being both stylish and perfectly kept. And what was with the watery, pink eyes? Maybe he really was sick. He had that look of a killer cold.
    She caught up with him just as he was