She threw a pillow at his face. His hand whipped up to catch it first. He spun around and tackled her back on the bed, pinning her under his arms.
Harper and Taylor burst out laughing. He kissed her lips soundly, then pulled Harper up to his chest so she could snuggle against him. Once settled, Taylor took her hand in his and played with her fingers.
“I’m glad you came to me. I want you to always feel you can.”
“I do. I will.”
A smile played at his lips. “You really told your mother you were going to stay here? Look for a job in Charleston?”
“Yes.”
She felt his chest rise and fall. “Good.”
“But I have to be realistic. I’m not kidding when I said I’m broke. I’ve been spending recklessly all summer and my checking account is low.”
“Hey, if what you paid me is causing you trouble, you can have it back.”
“You don’t take money from damsels in distress?”
“No, ma’am.”
She reached up to pat his cheek. “My hero,” she said teasingly.
“I’m not joking. I don’t need your money. I never will.”
“I’ll be okay.” She patted his chest. “It’s just that I’d always depended on the check from my trust fund. The money was always there. I never questioned it. But now that my mother is cutting me off, I’ve woken up to the fact that I have no safety cushion.”
“You have me.”
She heard the words. Was comforted by them. “Yes, but I don’t want to fall back on depending on someone to take care of me. Not that I don’t appreciate it,” she hurriedly added. “It’s more that I want a measure of independence. At long last. I don’t even have a job.”
“Yet.”
“Let’s be serious. How long will it take me to get one? Carson’s been searching all summer for something in her field and hasn’t found anything. I’m an editor. There aren’t that many positions open in my field. Add to that, I’ll have to move from Sea Breeze soon.”
“Those are just excuses. Not reasons for leaving.”
“They’re not excuses. They’re fact.” She played with the hairs on his chest. “I’ve been thinking . . . I may have to go back to New York.” She felt his breathing stop. “Just long enough to save some money,” she rushed to add. “And apply for a job here. I need to buy some time.”
“No,” he said firmly. “If you go back, even for a day, your mother will get her claws into you and keep you there. She’ll never let you come back.”
“She won’t do anything of the sort.”
“You won’t come back. You’ll get involved in your job. Maybe you’ll meet someone new.”
“It won’t be like that.”
“Are you willing to take the chance?”
A labored sigh was her answer.
“Don’t leave, Harper.” Taylor held her tight, his eyes pleading, his voice husky. “Stay.”
“Taylor . . .”
Taylor shifted to sit in front her. He pulled her upright as well. She quickly brought the sheet up to cover her nakedness. Across from her, Taylor’s bare shoulders and chest were as broad and imposing as a mountain.
“Please. Look at me.”
When she dragged her gaze to his, they connected.
His sea-green eyes were turbulent with emotion. “I know fear. All too well. I faced life and death over and over. People claim that’s courage. But that was the easy part compared to what I had to face when I came home. I learned that real courage is facing your fears. It takes guts to face and defeat your fear—or be defeated by it.” He put his hands along her cheeks, holding her head so she couldn’t look away. “Harper, I know what you’re afraid of. What you’re afraid to admit. You want to be a writer, don’t you?”
She stared into Taylor’s eyes. Her answer was welling up inside her. One that, until now, she’d been led to believe was trivial, unrealistic, and, worse, self-destructive. One she’d kept hidden.
“Yes.”
“Then write.”
Harper’s heart was in her throat. “I’ve been writing. All summer.”
“Exactly.” He half smiled. “I seem to recall you saying that your writing was better here than anywhere else.”
“True.” Tears threatened. “I feel safe here.”
His gaze rekindled. “I promise you, with me, you have nothing to fear. Not ever.”
She pulled back, tucking the sheet higher up over her breasts. “You’re asking me to put all my trust in you. To risk everything, my job, my inheritance, to stay here with you. Tell me, Taylor, why I should do that?”
Two deep furrows lined his brows as he looked steadily into her eyes. “Because I love you.”
She felt her breath leave her. He’d said the words. Spoke aloud the one reason that could keep her here.
He stared back at her, his eyes vulnerable, waiting.
“I love you, too.”
Taylor’s eyes filled with resolution. He reached up to gently wipe the tears from her face. “I know this is fast. Maybe crazy. We’ve only known each other a few weeks. But it feels like I’ve known you forever.” He looked at her fingers entwined with his and released a quick smile. “You were right. I confess. I knew the moment I first set eyes on you that you were the one for me. It just took my jaded heart a while to admit it.” He looked up at her. “I’m not as brave as you.”
His words washed over her like a summer storm, rinsing away her fears, her doubts. In that moment Harper realized that there was indeed such a thing as unconditional love. A love that knew no bounds and was never ending, because that was how she felt for Taylor.
“I don’t have a lot of money. I’m just starting a new job. I don’t even have a ring. All that will come later. We have time to work out the details. I just don’t want to lose you. It doesn’t matter to me if your mother cuts you off. All I want is you.”
Harper looked into his eyes and thought how no one had ever told her this before. Someone had always wanted something from her. Her wealth, her connections. This man wanted nothing except her.
He took her hand and she held her breath. “Harper Muir-James from New York, I offer you everything I have or will ever have. I offer you everything I am and will ever be. Will you marry me?”
They’d only known each other a little while. Already they were committing to marriage? It was crazy, illogical, irrational. Harper still had to get a job. She had nothing to fall back on if times got tough. And they would.
And yet . . . she couldn’t shake the certain knowledge that Taylor was the one for her. That what she felt for him was real.
Harper’s answer came not from her head, where she usually took time to carefully consider and research her thoughts and decisions. This time, her answer came straight from her heart.
“Yes, Taylor McClellan from McClellanville, I will marry you.”
The following morning Harper and Taylor said a drawn-out good-bye, foreheads pressed together as they soaked up the early-morning light, and she drove back to Sea Breeze feeling as if she were floating on a cloud of joy. She was a different person driving south on this long stretch of road than she had been driving north the day before. Crossing the Isle of Palms connector, she was soaring over the vast wetlands headed straight for the sea. At its peak she glimpsed the vast Atlantic Ocean, sparkling blue in the radiant sun, and to her right the wide swath of the magnificent Intracoastal Waterway. Harper laughed out loud for the joy of it and opened her window wide to let the last warm breezes of summer blow in. Fall was coming. Already the tips of the grasses were golden, hinting at the change of seasons.
Change. The word gave her pause.
What changes she’d experienced in the past summer season! She’d arrived here in late May when the grasses were greening, that lovely spring color waving in a soft breeze. In so many ways she’d been as naive and green as the grass itself, sprouting up unawares. Over the summer she’d grown like the sea grass, tougher, rounded. Now, with the approach of su
mmer’s end and the beginning of fall, she felt ripe with love, ready to burst forth with color.
She passed the road where, if she turned and drove the three blocks toward the water, she’d arrive at what would soon be Dora’s new home. Harper chuckled. Now there was a story of change. Dora had found not only herself this summer, but a life and a love she deserved.
Harper’s gaze landed on her cell phone, maddeningly silent from its perch on her dashboard. She let out a little sigh despite all of the happy feelings roiling inside her. She had tried calling Georgiana several times first thing this morning, convinced that a mother’s excitement over her daughter’s engagement—even an impromptu one—would override their earlier clash. But her mother hadn’t picked up the calls. Harper had finally dashed off an e-mail with the news, but still her phone didn’t ring.
Harper wound her way off Middle Street to the road that led to Sea Breeze. She passed the tall hedge of green and entered the familiar circular drive. She felt as she often did when she faced the raised house with the gabled roof sitting in the shade of the giant oak: that Sea Breeze was waiting for her, arms open in welcome.
Her news was bursting at her lips. She hurried up the stairs and pushed open the front door. “Hello!” she shouted. She dropped her purse on the front-hall table. The painting of the Miss Jenny on the wall caught her eye and she smiled again. “Hello!” she called, entering the kitchen. “Where is everyone!”
Carson burst into the kitchen from the porch. She was wearing a skimpy bikini and her damp hair was slicked back in a loose braid. “You’re back!” She looked over her shoulder to be sure no one was behind her. Then she ran to Harper, eyes blazing, and engulfed her in a bear hug. “It was wonderful! I couldn’t put it down.”
Harper’s breath was taken away. “My book? Really?”
“Loved, loved, loved it. Especially the part—”
Dora came in behind Carson in a sleek, black one-piece suit. They looked as if they’d been in the pool. She looked at Harper with a mother’s stern gaze. “You didn’t come home last night.”
“I’ve got some news!” Harper blurted out. Unable to hold in her announcement a second longer, she shouted, “I’m engaged!”
After a second’s stunned silence, Dora and Carson squealed in unison. In a rush the three sisters were hugging and jumping up and down with more squeals.
Mamaw walked into the room. Never one to be left out, she asked imperiously, “What in heaven’s name is going on?”
Harper broke off from her sisters to run to Mamaw and envelop her in a hug. “I’m engaged!”
Mamaw was taken aback. The woman rarely sputtered. “Engaged? To Taylor?”
“Of course to Taylor.” Harper laughed. “Oh, Mamaw, is it even possible to be so happy?”
“Sweet child, I’m so delighted for you.” Flustered, Mamaw pointedly looked at Harper’s left hand.
Harper caught the gesture and grasped her ringless hand in the other. “I don’t have a ring.” She put on a brave smile. “The proposal caught us both by surprise. I couldn’t care less if he ever gives me one. I love him and he loves me and that’s all that matters.”
“True.” Mamaw’s voice wavered and she took Harper’s hands in hers and squeezed gently. “You’ve only known him for a short while. Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Harper replied with conviction. “We both know it’s been quick, but sometimes you just know. Mamaw, he loves me for me. Just me. I’ve waited to hear those words my whole life. He’s the one, Mamaw.”
“Then he deserves you, my child,” Mamaw said with feeling.
Harper basked in the glow of her grandmother’s approval.
“A wedding!” Dora exclaimed. “At last! Have you set a date?”
“Oh, God, no. We didn’t talk about that yet.”
“You have to set a date,” Dora told her urgently. “Charleston is a popular destination-wedding location now. Venues are booked way in advance. We’ll have to start looking immediately.”
“Hold your horses, Vera Wang,” Carson chided Dora. “She just got engaged. Let the poor girl celebrate at least a day before we strap her to the wedding harness.”
“I don’t even know if I’m having a formal wedding,” Harper said. “All that’s a ways off.”
“Of course you’ll have a wedding,” Mamaw declared.
“My mother won’t come. And she certainly won’t pay for a wedding.”
“Why wouldn’t she? You’re her only daughter,” Mamaw said.
“We had a terrible row. I tried to call her several times this morning. It went to voice mail each time. I followed up with an e-mail, but she still hasn’t called me back.” Harper shrugged. “I don’t expect she will. My mother has the ability to slam an iron door down around herself, cutting a person out. It’s a power move. I’ve seen her do this many times not to recognize it when it happens.”
“That’s cold,” Carson said. “Give her time. I mean, her only child is engaged.”
“We don’t need Georgiana James to have a wedding,” Mamaw said haughtily. “But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. First, I must throw you a small dinner party to celebrate your engagement. It is time we met Taylor’s parents.”
“We need a good party at Sea Breeze,” Dora said. “It might be the last party we have here. So let’s do it proper.”
In a rush of enthusiasm the women began spouting out ideas for the party, one after the other. As the mood shot skyward, their discussion was interrupted by the sound of the front doorbell.
“I’ll get it. That must be Blake. Don’t look at me like that,” Carson warned her sisters, rolling her eyes. “He’s just coming by to report on Delphine.” She turned and hurried away to answer the door. A few moments later she returned carrying a piece of yellow paper with a bemused expression. “Harper, you got a telegram. I didn’t even know people still sent telegrams.”
Harper couldn’t imagine who would send a telegram these days instead of an e-mail. She hurried to take the telegram, and with Carson looking over her shoulder ripped open the envelope.
Harper had to read the telegram twice, and it still didn’t make sense.
“Who is it from?” Carson sidled closer.
“My grandmother in England. Granny James.”
“Her?” Mamaw came near. “Whatever does she have to say that merits a telegram?”
Harper lifted the piece of paper and read it aloud: “ ‘Arriving Charleston Wednesday four p.m. Stop. Please collect me. Stop.’ ”
There was a moment’s stunned silence.
Mamaw stood straight, her hands folded in front of her, her brows knitted in thought.
Dora spoke first. “Wednesday . . . as in the day after tomorrow?”
“I assume,” Harper replied.
Dora tilted her head and made a face as if she had a bug in her ear. “You mean your grandmother is showing up here, all the way from England, just like that? Without calling you first?”
“Where is she staying?” Carson wanted to know.
“In a hotel, I suppose,” Harper said.
“Absolutely not!” At the sound of Mamaw’s voice the three young women swung their heads toward her. Her voice was stern with authority. “Harper, if your grandmother is flying all the way from Europe for a visit, she is most welcome to stay here at Sea Breeze. To do otherwise wouldn’t be hospitable. Even,” she said archly, “if she has the bad manners to show up on our doorstep uninvited.”
Harper felt the sting of the insult and felt she had to defend her other grandmother. Granny James was nothing like Georgiana and was one of the only people in Harper’s lonely childhood who’d made her feel loved. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to impose. That wouldn’t be like Granny James at all. She’ll have already made reservations somewhere.” Harper stared at the telegram in her hand. “Still, it’s so unlike her. I can’t imagine why she is coming like this, in such a rush, and without so much as a phone call.”
“Can you not?” Mamaw asked.
&nb
sp; “She’s about as subtle as a Mack truck,” said Dora. “Your granny’s coming to check out your young man.”
“But I only just got engaged. How would she know?” As soon as the words were out, Harper knew the answer. She looked into Mamaw’s knowing glance. Georgiana would have called her mother in a great show of hysterics after listening to Harper’s voice mail, no doubt telling her all sorts of horrible stories of Harper’s downfall. She could only imagine the colorful adjectives used.
“Mummy . . .”
“Quite so,” Mamaw said succinctly. “This has Georgiana’s name written all over it.”
“She must’ve painted a pretty horrid picture to get Granny James to hop a plane and come rushing to see me. She’s nearly eighty, after all.”
Mamaw sniffed. “That hardly makes her a dinosaur.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Harper hastened to reply. “But she broke her leg last spring. She’d only act like this in an emergency.”
“Naturally your grandmother would see your throwing away your fortune to rush off and get married to someone you hardly know as an emergency,” Mamaw confirmed.
Dora snickered. “Well, when you put it like that . . .”
“You’re right.” Mamaw smiled wryly. “When you put it like that, I find your grandmother’s actions admirable. She had to see the situation for herself. She wouldn’t want you forewarned, either, for fear you might run off.” Mamaw paused, then added begrudgingly, “I would do the same myself.”
Harper felt a well of emotion for both her grandmothers. “She is rather like you, strong, refined, educated.” Harper grinned. “Opinionated.”
“This ought to be good,” Carson said. “The dueling grandmas.”
Dora giggled and began humming the tune “Dueling Banjos.”
“Enough of this lollygagging.” Mamaw crisply clapped her hands. “If we have a guest arriving in a little over forty-eight hours and a dinner party to plan, we have more work to do than I can shake a stick at.”
“Where will we put her?” asked Dora.
“I could give her my room,” Harper suggested.
“Heavens, no,” Mamaw said. “I won’t feel comfortable sharing a bathroom with someone I’ve never met.”
The Summer's End Page 25