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First Come Twins

Page 8

by Helen Brenna


  Sophie glanced across the flames.

  Kurt’s jaw dropped. “You and Marty are moving to Mirabelle?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “WHAT?” LAUREN LOOKED UP from the fire. “You’re going to be living here? On Mirabelle?”

  “I wasn’t supposed to say anything,” Brittany said, meeting Sophie’s eyes with a worried expression. “Not until Marty talked with you, Sophie.”

  “Are you kidding?” Sophie said. “We’ll be excited to have you!”

  “Where are you going to live?” Lauren asked. “I hope you’re close so we can see each other every day.”

  “We’d like to build a hotel,” Brittany said, sitting straighter in her chair, and Sophie felt prickles of concern run up her spine.

  “You should put it right there.” Lauren pointed to the Rousseau forest west of the inn. “Neighbors would be so cool!”

  “That’s what we thought!” Brittany caught the buzz of the kids’ infectious excitement.

  “Tight!” Kurt’s eyes went wide.

  The trust land? Sophie’s concern turned into full-fledged alarm. That land held the only virgin forest on the entire island. This was the forest Sophie had built forts in and tramped through as a kid. The forest where she and Noah had shared first kisses.

  “What kind of hotel?” Lauren asked, leaning forward expectantly.

  “A big one!” Brittany grinned. “Like the one on Mackinac Island in Michigan. You know. The white one with the porch that goes on and on and on. The big pillars. The beautiful grounds—”

  Kurt asked, “Are you going to have a pool?”

  Although several hotel owners had broached this topic before, there were no pools anywhere on the island and that’s the status most residents preferred.

  “Please,” Lauren pleaded. “Please say you’re going to have a pool.”

  “Yes,” Brittany said, laughing. “A big pool. Heated. With hot tubs and waterfalls.”

  “Sweet!” Kurt exclaimed.

  Sophie swallowed and took a deep breath. How could she be upset with someone so nice and perky?

  “Awesome!” Lauren said.

  “What’s awesome?” Marty asked, tossing the bag of marshmallows between the kids and plopping into the lawn chair next to Brittany.

  “You guys moving here!” Lauren shouted.

  “A pool!” Kurt added.

  Marty shot a look at Brittany.

  Her excitement immediately fizzled. “Sorry,” she said, cringing. “It slipped out.”

  Sophie attempted a smile, but one look at her and Marty’s shoulders slumped. Brittany and the kids grew quiet.

  “I’m sorry, Sophie,” he said. “I meant to tell you myself. At the right time.”

  “It’s okay, Brittany.” Sophie reassured her soon-to-be sister-in-law. “There wasn’t going to be a right time.”

  “Can we go for a walk?” Marty asked. “Talk?”

  “Sure.” She stood and crossed her arms, holding in the warmth.

  As they walked along the beach, toward the forest, Sophie tried to find the positives in the situation. Marty would be back, Brittany was adorable, and they’d probably have children. Right next door, Sophie would have nieces and nephews and her kids would have cousins. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint her brother only days before his wedding. “Marty—”

  “Sophie, don’t say anything,” he said. “Not yet. Not until you’ve heard me out, okay?”

  “This is going to take business away from the inn.”

  “That was my first concern,” Marty acknowledged. “The truth is, Mirabelle has been steadily losing tourists for the last five years. If something isn’t done to generate some interest in this island and to attract new visitors, Mirabelle’s going to die a slow and painful death with or without a new hotel.”

  “None of the inns, hotels or B and Bs are at full capacity for the summer,” she argued. “A new hotel will only make things worse.”

  “Soph, do you remember when we were kids most of the visitors to the island were families?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, lately the island’s mainstay has become couples and weddings, but without a steady influx of families we can’t survive.”

  “We’re too quiet for families.”

  “Exactly. There isn’t enough to do on the island. My hotel, with a pool, video-game rooms and a pizza parlor, will be a haven for families.”

  “No one else has a pool. You’ll take business away from everyone.”

  “I can’t take it away if it isn’t there off the start,” he said, sounding frustrated. “We can make it a community pool. I don’t care. The golf course will make the biggest difference in bringing in more people.”

  “A golf course? Marty, how much land do you need for that?”

  “The average course is about two hundred acres.”

  “That’s half our forest!” She turned toward him, suddenly angry. “How can you just destroy it? Destroy everything Mom and Dad worked so hard to keep safe?”

  “Something has to be done. Mirabelle is dying.”

  “Well, I have to be honest. I don’t think your plan is going to help.” She took comfort in knowing that the land was in a trust. “You have to get this approved by all of us, and I don’t think—”

  “Beth and Jackie have already said yes.”

  “What?” Her two sisters had already put their stamp of approval on Marty’s project. This was too much.

  “I only need your nod and we can go ahead with the plans.”

  “Well, you’re not going to get it!” she said, charging away from him. “I won’t let this happen!”

  “Sophie! Stop. You said you’d listen before you make up your mind.”

  She spun around. “Even if I do give you the go-ahead, you’ll still have to get everything approved by the town council before doing anything.”

  “I’ve scheduled a meeting with them for Tuesday night.”

  “While all this wedding stuff is going on?”

  “Brittany’s as excited as I am to get the ball rolling.”

  So soon. She didn’t have a clue what to think, what to do, and there was no one on the island she could talk to, either. As a Rousseau, her opinion would likely influence others and, for Marty’s sake, she didn’t want to sway any opinions. The islanders needed to make up their own minds.

  “Besides, this initial meeting should be a piece of cake,” Marty continued, shrugging. “I’m just asking for approval to do a feasibility study. I’m an islander. Hometown boy makes good. They’ll eat it up. But I need you behind me, otherwise it won’t happen.”

  How could I get behind this?

  “All I’m asking is that Tuesday night you listen to my presentation and think about it before you make up your mind. Okay?”

  She debated. “All right. Fine. I’ll wait to make up my mind. That doesn’t mean I’m going to let you destroy trust land.”

  “This will be good for Mirabelle. I know it.” He hugged her. “Will you come back to the fire?”

  She shook her head.

  “Don’t be angry at me, Sophie.”

  “Then don’t do this.”

  “I believe in it, Sophie. I love this island and I don’t want to see it die.” His smile was sad. “Come back to the fire. Please.”

  “You go. I need to walk some more.” Thoroughly unsettled, Sophie set off down the beach.

  FROM A DISTANCE, NOAH STARED at the fire. He’d been leaning against a large rock near the point for some time listening to the muted rumble of voices, hoping it would relax him and calm his thoughts. It had helped somewhat, but a part of him felt uneasy keeping separate from the group. Normally, he’d be in the thick of a party, joining in, talking and laughing. It wasn’t like him to insulate himself from anything, but since the explosion, since losing his leg, it was as if he’d lost his footing in more ways than one.

  He contented himself with watching Sophie, her smile in profile, the way the firelight illuminated h
er face and hair. The vision of her helped him block out the memories of the last fire he’d witnessed, the military truck burning after the explosion in Iraq. He’d struggled in the dirt, his foot hanging by a tangled mass of broken bone and torn skin, trying to get back to the burning vehicle. He’d passed out before help had arrived, the images of those flames seared in his memory.

  This fire, though, was different, harmless, and Sophie looked beautiful in the periphery of light. He couldn’t help noticing how none of her mannerisms had changed, and how he still remembered them after all these years. The way she curled one leg under her as she sat in the camp chair. Then she’d lean forward, an elbow on her knee, and rest her chin in her hand. Some of his fondest memories of Mirabelle had been sitting around a campfire with her. She’d always looked so beautiful in that flickering, golden light.

  When she got up to talk with Marty, he could tell by the stiffness in her movements that something was wrong. She and Marty walked away from the fire. After a short time, she took off along the beach alone, moving fast. With a full moon lighting her way, even the steep rocky incline near the point didn’t slow her progress.

  Her head bent in concentration, her path would take her right past him. If he said nothing, she’d likely walk right by, none the wiser to his presence. He kept his mouth shut, held his breath. Go by, Sophie. Go by.

  Suddenly, she stopped, looked up and put a hand to her chest as if he’d frightened her.

  “Hey,” he said. “It’s just me.”

  “You scared me.” She took a deep breath. “Why don’t you go down by the fire? Marty would love to see you.”

  “Too many people.”

  She tilted her head at him. “But you love people.”

  “Not these days.” He thought for a moment. “It’s this…prosthesis business. Some people…”

  “Treat you differently?”

  He nodded.

  “Have I ever…acted like that?”

  “No. Except for when you didn’t slap me my first day back on the island.”

  She chuckled.

  “Some day all that awkwardness from others won’t bother me at all. It’s just not now.”

  Preoccupied, she gazed out at the water.

  “Something happen with Marty?”

  For a moment, she didn’t say anything and then she opened her mouth and her news spewed out, like a geyser erupting into the air. Pacing beside him, barely catching her breath, she went on and on about how Marty wanted to build a hotel with pools and a golf course. Guessing she was too agitated to sit, Noah stood and walked toward the path in the woods. She followed, continuing to vent.

  Even Noah understood the impact those changes would have on the face of this community. “Where’s he planning on putting the hotel?”

  “On the family trust land. After he’s through, there won’t be anything left of it,” she said. “How can Marty and my sisters let this pristine forest go? I don’t get it.”

  “He doesn’t live here.”

  “Well, after he starts living here, he’ll regret cutting down any part of these woods.”

  “So your sisters have already approved this?”

  She nodded. “No one said anything to me.” Soon, they left the forest behind, crossed Island Drive and walked along the dirt road that ran by the stables.

  “Are you going to approve it?”

  “Absolutely not. Other than the kids, this island is all I have. Destroy Mirabelle, and I’ve got nothing.”

  “Soph, that’s not true. There’s so much more to you than this island,” he said, hoping to help her feel better. “All change isn’t necessarily bad.”

  “A golf course? A pool? On Mirabelle? As we speak, my grandparents are rolling in their graves.”

  “What about the town council? Have they okayed it?”

  “He’s bringing the concept to them Tuesday night. Before getting contractors to the island to do a feasibility study, he wants to make sure the board will consider a proposal.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head as if she were shaking a thought loose. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  Amazing. She still had that uncanny ability to redirect herself, to shut down. The only time she’d ever done it with him had been when he’d been getting ready to leave the island. It had killed him that she wouldn’t look at him, or face him.

  That’s when he’d basically kidnapped her and taken her to that hotel in Bayfield. He’d wanted to make her deal with him leaving, except in the end, he’d been the one who couldn’t say goodbye and had left in the early morning hours while she was sound asleep. More than once he’d berated himself for being a coward, and the memories heightened his remorse.

  “I’m sorry, Sophie,” he said, on impulse.

  “For what?”

  “For not saying goodbye. For letting you wake up alone the morning I left.” Before he knew it, they were back at his grandmother’s house.

  As if the memory of that morning was too much for her, she looked away, forced it back. “Thanks for listening tonight.” She rubbed her arms as if she were chilled and took a deep breath.

  “You cold?”

  “A little.”

  “Do you want some tea?”

  “Will that help you sleep?”

  He laughed. “Nothing helps me sleep.”

  “Even medication?”

  “The pills the doctors prescribed in the hospital worked for a while, but they also caused extreme nausea and made me tired all day long. I couldn’t think straight.”

  They’d come to the house from the hillside, so Noah let them into the kitchen through the back door. He grabbed the teapot and filled it with water.

  “Here,” she said. “Let me do that. You go relax. Better yet, get ready for bed.”

  “Sophie—”

  “I want you off my island, remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember.” Suddenly he did feel incredibly tired. The past few days of activity, quite possibly, were doing the job. “You don’t—”

  “Humor me.” She skirted past him and put the teapot on the stove.

  It irritated him that she could move so much faster than him, zipping this way and that. He wanted to grab her and slow her down. Before he’d made it to the steps, she was bent over emptying out the dishwasher. Damn. Sophie had filled out beautifully. The skinny teenager had been replaced by a curvy woman with flared hips and full breasts. Dwelling on what she’d feel like was definitely not going to help him sleep.

  He tore his gaze away, climbed the steps and traded jeans for flannel pajama pants. As he brushed his teeth and washed his face, the sound of Sophie now loading the dishwasher filtered up from downstairs. He had to admit it was comforting having someone else in the house.

  He emerged from the bathroom, minus his leg, to find she’d snuck upstairs while he’d had the water running in the bathroom. His bedcovers were turned down, and the windows were slightly open, allowing for a gentle cross breeze. The stage was set. The only thing missing was a woman. How long had it been? Too long. Sophie would be just what one of his doctors had ordered.

  Bad, bad idea. He lay on his side, scrunched up the pillow and drew the blanket over him. For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t dreading the night.

  Soft footsteps sounded in the hall. He opened his suddenly heavy eyes to see Sophie tiptoeing toward him. “I straightened up downstairs and made you some herbal tea.” She quietly set a steaming mug of chamomile on his bedside table, next to his Beretta. “Why do you have this gun here?”

  “It helps me feel safe.”

  “You are safe. You should put it away.”

  He grabbed the gun and slid it under his pillow. “Not yet.” He closed his eyes. “’Night, Soph.”

  “Good night.” She hesitated and then whispered, “I won’t be back tomorrow.”

  No. She’d be back in his dreams.

  IN THE SHADOWY HALLWAY, Sophie stood quie
tly outside the door to Noah’s bedroom and listened to the sound of his steady breathing. He looked warm and comfortable and she was now chilly in the night air. A war waged inside her, and it took every ounce of resistance she could muster to not sneak along his backside and wrap her arms around him.

  What in the world had come over her? She had wanted him off her island. Honestly. Truly. But tonight something had changed. Tonight, as they’d walked and talked, for the first time since he’d been back, Sophie had caught a glimpse of the old Noah, the Noah whom she’d always loved.

  She wanted to feel that Noah’s arms cinched tightly around her, his hands caressing her skin. Her body ached to feel that again.

  Only her Noah had broken her heart. And that heart had never healed. Her Noah had left once. He’d leave again. She, on the other hand, had children who needed a stable home. As the oldest Rousseau, she had duties and responsibilities. While many things had changed through the years, one constant remained. Sophie could no more leave Mirabelle today than she could have fifteen years ago.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “TEN…ELEVEN…TWE…LVE.”

  Unable to force out another pull-up, Noah dropped down from the bar he’d installed within the laundry room doorframe. He’d already done as many sit-ups and push-ups as he could manage and, in as sorry a shape as he was in, he’d done enough for the night. It was hard to believe that once upon a time he’d actually kept up the workout regiment of the soldiers to whom he’d been assigned.

  He glanced at the clock. Ten minutes to seven. Tuesday night’s council meeting would soon be starting. All day, while he’d been scraping and painting the house, he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Sophie. She had to feel stuck between a rock and a hard place, caught as she was between wanting to help out her brother and wanting to keep Mirabelle undamaged and unchanged.

  “Ah, hell.” His bum leg would make him a little late, but for some crazy reason he needed to be at that council meeting.

 

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