Trusting Will (The Camerons of Tide's Way #3)

by Skye Taylor

  As he drove back to Carlisle Place, thoughts of Bree flickered through his head like bright bits of color in a kaleidoscope. He thought about her a lot these days. To the exclusion of many things that had seemed supremely important before he’d picked Sam up for scouts a month ago. His grand plan to cut into Bob Cahill’s action had so far not been put into motion. While he’d seen plenty of Sam, moments with Bree had been few and short. Time to step up his game.

  He’d caught her watching him while he sliced through boxes the day he’d moved in but had gone on working without letting her know he knew she was watching. He’d also seen the fiery blush when Sam came bounding in. That had to be a point in his favor.

  Even before that, he’d sensed her interest when he brought her that ice cream sundae, and then there was the supper invitation the Sunday she’d spent napping to beat back a bad cold. He’d turned her down, thinking the last thing she needed was an extra mouth to feed, but now he wished he’d accepted. He could have helped with supper so she wasn’t doing all the work.

  At the Pinewood Derby, when she’d caught on to the doctored race car and challenged him on it, there had been amusement in her eyes. Then she’d reached out to touch him, and the amusement fell away as their gaze grew more intense and his heart began to race. He’d been about to ask her for a date.

  Then Bob showed up.

  He had no idea how the little scene with Bob Cahill had ended. Bree hadn’t seemed too happy to be leaving the building with him. In fact, the trooper in him had sensed anger in the other man, and Will didn’t know Cahill well enough to know if he’d act on it. He’d wanted to intervene, but Bree had warned him with a glance to back off.

  Less than ten minutes later she had returned with an expression that might have been sadness but certainly not distress. Apparently, nothing bad had gone down, but the moment to put his own interest to the test had been lost. Then the final race of the day had been announced.

  Sam had not won, and he’d not been happy about it. Reminding Sam that being a gracious loser was more important than winning had ended up becoming a den powwow about good sportsmanship. Sam and another of Will’s scouts were in that final heat and would go on to race in the regional derby in Raleigh, but neither had taken first place. Even so, placing second and third should have been a source of pride. The other scout’s father had been haranguing the referees and giving the boys a shocking example of what good sportsmanship was not about. Will took the boys into one of the classrooms where they sat in a circle and discussed the subject.

  By the time they emerged from the room, Sam, at least, was clutching his racer and wearing a satisfied smile. Will wasn’t so sure about Gareth but suspected any good their powwow might have achieved would be undone as soon as the boy was back in his father’s orbit.

  Will hadn’t seen Bree since that day until he’d come around the corner and found her standing beside the road with a flat tire.

  Home at last, he pulled his Jeep into the empty space next to Bree’s Honda and debated stopping on the second floor. Then his cell phone rang.

  He looked at the caller ID and groaned. His sergeant. Whatever he wanted, it wouldn’t be good. And it definitely meant he was not going to have a chance to see Bree again tonight. He hit the accept button and put the phone to his ear.

  Chapter 9

  FILLED WITH A mixture of hope and nostalgia, Bree left the wedding reception early. Months ago, when the bride’s mother had come into the hotel to book the reception, Bree had recognized her eighth-grade math teacher and was surprised when the woman remembered her as well. The wedding invitation was another surprise, and Bree had decided to accept. Tide’s Way was a small town, and now that she lived here, she wanted to connect with people, especially people she’d known years ago and remembered with fondness.

  As she drove down Jolee Road to pick Sam up at his friend’s house, she reflected on the newly married couple. Sally Ann was beautiful, in the way of brides suffused with love and happiness. She reminded Bree of herself on her wedding day. The handsome young husband, obviously smitten, couldn’t keep his eyes off his new wife, but like Ed, he was a soldier. With a catch in her heart, Bree prayed that the newlyweds would live a long, happy life together.

  She crossed Stewart and turned into Meg and Ben’s driveway. Meg appeared on the porch before Bree got out of the car.

  “They’re out in the woods behind the house. You want to come in for a bit, or do you have to get going?”

  Bree glanced at Will’s Jeep. Part of her wanted to avoid the man. His charm was too dangerous. Part of her yearned to see him again. “I’d love to, but I’ve got things I need to get done. I’ll just go get Sam. Thanks for watching him.”

  “Oh, I didn’t do much watching. The boys have been out there all afternoon with Ben and Will. I’m not sure what they’re up to, but anything that keeps them out from under foot while I get the house clean is a good thing.” A phone rang inside. “Gotta go. Good to see you again.” Then Meg ducked back into the house.

  Bree followed the little bricked path that led around the side of the house to Meg’s vegetable garden. Beyond the garden the bricks ended, and the path forked. To the right through deeper grass you ended up at the water. Left headed toward the woods. She paused at the junction to look in the direction of the marsh where the Stewart River flowed into the inland waterway. What a magnificent view. And so close to the ocean that the sound and scent filled the air. Bree lifted her face and sniffed, then turned and headed toward the woods.

  Just as she ducked into the line of trees, excited shrieks came from somewhere overhead. Then Sam flew past, eight feet in the air with one foot in a loop of rope that hung from an overhead cable, one hand on the rope, and the other waving wildly in the air like a rodeo cowboy.

  Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart squeezed painfully.

  A moment later, Evan sailed by; only half Sam’s size, he clung to his rope with both hands but grinned just as broadly. Bree’s heart about stopped completely as the little boy disappeared into the trees again. Then the deep tones of careless laughter hit her like an assault. Did none of them have a thought to the safety of those boys?

  Finally, Sam’s buddy Rick whizzed by, as oblivious to the danger as Sam.

  Bree marched toward the sound of the laughter.

  When the group came into sight, Rick was just stepping out of the loop while his father held the rope. Will and Evan were high-fiving. “Way to go, buddy. I knew you could do it.”

  “Sam. It’s time to go.” Bree interrupted Will’s congratulations to the five-year-old boy.

  “Mom!” Sam came running toward her. “You gotta see me. I went the fastest of anyone.” He started to run back to the hill where Bree guessed the high end of the zip line began.

  Bree grabbed for him, but he was already running full tilt and out of reach. She turned to Will, anger coursing through her.

  “What are you thinking? Sam could get hurt.” She glanced at Ben’s two boys. “They all could get hurt.”

  “Not while we’re watching them,” Will protested. He frowned, looking surprised by her attack.

  “But you’re just standing around while they go up there and come zooming down all by themselves.”

  “Not just standing around.” Ben stepped up to his brother’s side, but Bree barely registered the astonishing likeness.

  Outrage boiled up in her like an untended pot of pasta. She’d left her son in Ben’s charge and assumed he’d be safe.

  “It’s our job to make sure they don’t run into the tree at the end of the run.” Ben pointed to the terminus of the zip line.

  Bree glanced at the tree in question and saw right off what he was referring to. But what about the rest of the run?

  “We just—” Ben began.

  “Geronimo!” Sam’s excited voice rang out
from the top of the hill.

  Will moved so fast, Bree didn’t have time to wonder why her son was shouting like a paratrooper. Will stepped under the zip line about twelve feet in front of the tree. As Sam came hurtling down the line, crowing with delight, Will caught him easily, slowed his flight, and stopped him well before he reached the tree.

  “It’s completely safe,” Ben explained as Will held the rope while Sam hopped down. “We took down everything in their path, and the boys promised never to come out here without us to guard the end of the ride.”

  Rick grabbed one of the ropes and took off toward the top of the hill. “Watch me, Mrs. Reagan.”

  Still trying to calm her racing pulse and ragged breathing, Bree reached for her son and pulled him against her. A minute later, the same exuberant Geronimo sounded, and moments after that Rick shot down the hill toward his father. Ben fielded the flying boy as easily as Will had.

  “Can I have one more ride, too?” Evan piped up, his hand already gripping one of the ropes.

  “Sure thing,” Ben said. “Rick, go help him get started.” The two boys trotted back up the hill. “I sure wish I had as much energy. They’ve worn us out.” This he directed at Bree, who still stood there, clutching her son against her chest.

  “They’ve been at it for a while,” Will added. “We’re ready for a break. I think Meg was baking cookies. You coming back to the house?”

  She shook her head hesitantly. She’d already told Meg she had to get going.

  “Please can we, Mom?” Sam pried himself out of her embrace and faced her, his best look of supplication on his face. “Just for a little bit. I’ll clean my room as soon as we get home. I promise. Mrs. Cameron makes the best cookies. Three kinds all at once.”

  Bree watched Ben catch his youngest son while she tried to come up with an excuse Sam would buy.

  Will winked at her. “He’s right. Can’t beat Meg’s cookies.”

  Again Bree’s heart jerked into overdrive, only this time it had nothing to do with the zip line and her son’s safety. It was the safety of her traitorous heart she questioned now.

  “Well . . .” Bree delayed.

  Rick swooped into the clearing, was brought to a stop by his father, and jumped down. Ben began unhooking the ropes the boys had been riding down on and gathered them up in one hand. “Just to be sure there are no unauthorized rides,” he said, holding them up for her to see. “Last one to the house has to put this stuff away.”

  All three boys took off for the house, but it was clear Evan was going to lose. Will caught up to him, scooped him up under one arm, and chased after the older two boys.

  “It’s really not that dangerous,” Ben told Bree as they turned to follow. “We not only cut down anything they could get caught on or run into, but we lined the run with hay in case they lost their grip and dropped off.”

  “But Evan’s only five. He’s too little,” Bree protested. “They’re all too little.”

  “Doesn’t matter how young they are. Boys think they’re indestructible, and you can’t stop them from trying things out. Probably things girls would never think of.” Ben laughed. “But if we help them learn how to make smarter decisions about what’s possible and what’s not and teach them about safety, then we can at least avoid some of the trips to the emergency room.”

  Ben sounded so reasonable. His argument made too much sense.

  “I’m sorry if we scared you.” Ben reached out to touch her arm. “You okay, now?”

  Bree nodded reluctantly.

  They arrived at the start of the brick path and turned the corner. Will and all three boys were sitting on the top step as they approached the porch.

  Rick pointed at the gear Ben was carrying. “You’re last one here, Dad. You get to put the stuff away.”

  Will winked at Bree. Her insides jumped again. Sam might be safe around Will, but she definitely was not.

  SOMEWHERE OVER cookies and coffee, Meg had talked Bree into joining the fishing expedition at the beach. She had insisted on driving her own car and told herself this was a family outing, but still, the anticipation of an afternoon with Will had her heart hammering with pleasure.

  When she and Sam pulled into the little beach lot, Ben’s truck and Will’s Jeep were already there, and Rick was hopping up and down and waving furiously. Before she could say anything, Sam was out the door and hurrying over to his friend. All three boys took off for the anchor and began climbing on it.

  “Off the anchor,” Will called as he grabbed a couple fishing poles from the back of his Jeep and hurried after them.

  Bree grabbed the tote with her and Sam’s towels and jackets, but in her hurry to lock the car and keep up with the boys, she dropped the keys in the sand and had to dig for them. By the time she looked up again, the boys and Will were out of sight, and Ben was just disappearing through the dunes. Meg was still collecting old blankets and a picnic hamper from the rear of the truck.

  “Here.” Bree reached for the hamper. “I’ll carry that.”

  “Thanks.” Meg sighed with relief. “Normally, the twins would have hauled all this stuff, but Ben hasn’t been fishing in forever, and Will was just trying to keep up with the boys.”

  “Probably because I lit into him yesterday about the zip line.”

  “You lit into Will? Why?” Meg stopped walking and looked over at Bree.

  “I about had a heart attack when I saw Sam flying through the air like a kamikaze pilot headed for destruction. I didn’t know Will was going to catch him, and I yelled at Will before I had a chance to calm down.”

  “That must have been a first.” Meg chuckled as she passed the old anchor marking the path to the beach. “Will’s used to women throwing themselves at him. Considering he’s unattached and a hunk besides. And then there’s the uniform thing.”

  “It’s the uniform that worries me,” Bree retorted without thinking.

  “Which one? The scout leader or the trooper?”

  Bree hesitated. She should have kept her mouth shut. She didn’t know Meg all that well, and voicing her fears out loud made her sound a little paranoid. But Meg had been through her own sort of hell. If anyone understood fear, it would have to be a Marine who’d served in a war zone. “The trooper.”

  As they emerged out of the dunes onto the beach, the sound of the surf grew louder. The twins were already setting up the surf casting gear, and the boys were exploring farther down the beach. Instinct urged Bree to call out to Sam, to encourage him to stay closer and not wander, but for once, she didn’t. Meg dumped her armload on the sand and began spreading out an old quilt to sit on. Bree spread a second blanket out and pinned it down with the hamper and her tote. Then she joined Meg on the quilt.

  “The North Carolina State Troopers are known for immaculately pressed uniforms,” Meg said, picking up the conversation. “Makes them pretty impressive. And then there’s always something appealing about a man in uniform, anyway.”

  “No denying that.” It was the man inside the uniform that worried Bree. Will was way too appealing for her peace of mind.

  “And that worries you?” Meg persisted.

  “Sam is in love with Will,” Bree began, ignoring her own growing attraction. “At least he’s in love with everything Will stands for. All I hear these days is Will this and Will that. Last night it was all about the zip line, which I take it was Will’s idea.”

  “Well, Ben bought into it pretty fast. They went off first thing yesterday and came home with a truckload of hay, but I didn’t ask what they were up to. Like I said yesterday, I was trying to clean, and so long as they kept the boys busy and out of the house, I wasn’t asking any questions. Do you know how hard it is to get anything done with two boys running around undoing everything?”

  Sam wasn’t like that. At least he never had been before. “M
aybe it’s because there are two of them,” Bree suggested. “Sam’s always been pretty quiet.” Ben’s comment about boys thinking they were invincible had haunted Bree’s dreams. Sam was growing up, and she couldn’t guard his environment forever, but did it have to be so soon?

  The boys were out of sight now, heightening Bree’s alarm. She got to her feet to peer down the beach.

  “Don’t worry. They can’t go far,” Meg said with unconcerned calm. “The inlet’s just around the corner, and when they get to the end of the dunes, they’ll turn around and come back.”

  That was the sort of thing Bree worried about. Water with a swift current. What if Sam or one of the other boys decided to go wading and got caught in the rip? “Maybe I should go check on them.”

  “They’ll be fine.”

  Reluctantly Bree dropped back onto the quilt. “How do you do it? Let them go off and not worry?”

  Meg didn’t answer right off. She gazed out at the ocean with one hand curved protectively about her belly. “I was gone a lot when they were smaller, even before I got sent overseas. Ben was in charge. Nothing bad ever happened, so I guess I just trusted that Ben knew what he was doing.” She looked back at Bree. “But maybe I’d be a worrier too, if I’d lost my husband the way you did, and my boys were all I had.”

  “If anything ever happened to Sam—” Bree broke off and shook her head to dispel the image.

  “Boys are different from girls,” Meg said. “I’ve got a friend who’s got one of each. She says they’re just wired different right from the start.”

  “That explains Sam’s fascination with his toy soldiers. And the fact that when he plays with his little cars they are always crashing.” As a child Bree had inherited a whole case of little cars from her male cousin, and she’d loved playing with them, but her games had always included little neighborhoods and sedate drives between one place and another. Sam preferred to create mayhem and orchestrate crashes.