A Stranger in the Cove

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A Stranger in the Cove Page 12

by Rachel Brimble


  “Mac, wait up. Mac!”

  Kate. He squeezed his eyes shut and halted but didn’t turn around. Tipping his head back, he tried to get a hold of the torment rising inside him like a gathering storm.

  “Mac?” Her breathing was heavy as she came to stand behind him, her hand on his upper arm. “Did I just see you come out of the bakery?”

  Slowly, he turned. “Yeah. And?”

  She slid her hand from his arm and stepped back, her cheeks turning pink. “Whoa.” She raised her hands. “Don’t shoot me, will you?”

  He clenched his jaw and looked past her toward the bakery. “I spoke to her.”

  “Marian? Oh, no.”

  He faced her. She stared at him as the color drained from her cheeks, and her deep brown eyes widened with worry. “What did you say to her? Please tell me she doesn’t know who you are. You didn’t just lay it on her without warning, did you?” She pushed the curls from her face. “She doesn’t deserve that, Mac. I asked you to wait for me to speak to George.”

  “And did you?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “He doesn’t know she had a son, does he?”

  “I don’t know, but I do know she would love a family of her own, which means something clearly wasn’t right when she fell pregnant with your dad. Did you tell her who you are?”

  He shook his head, confusion burning hot in his gut. “No, but I should have.”

  “Why?” Anger burned in her eyes. “Do you think shocking her, hurting her in front of all those people, will make her welcome you with open arms?”

  He met her glare as further words stuck in his throat.

  “I owe her my protection, Mac. I can’t let her down. Not with something as life-changing as this. I agree she needs to know, but we need to figure out how you can tell her in a way that will cause her the least pain. I care about Marian and I care about George. I don’t want you to just barrel into the bakery and—”

  “Pierce a hole in her newfound, happy, bouncy life where the sky is always blue, the sand always golden and the coffee just the right shade of brown? She might have looked for Dad in the past, but clearly once she found her nice little life, she no longer gave a crap. I’ve watched her. She’s living as though she’s never done a thing wrong in her life. Why shouldn’t I barrel in there and tell her a few hard truths?”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Because you’ll have to get past me first. How dare you? I’ve told you how I feel about her.”

  “Yes, but you haven’t told me why.”

  She flinched as though he’d struck her, and all the fight left him. “Sorry. It’s none of my business.”

  She glared, but Mac saw the sadness in her eyes. “Maybe not, and if you weren’t so damn angry, I might have come to tell you, in time. But right now, with you acting this way, there’s little chance of that happening any time soon. You have no right to say I have no idea, Mac. You don’t know me.”

  He swiped his hand over his face and squeezed his eyes shut. “This is such a mess and not knowing how to talk to her is making me act like a jerk.” He opened his eyes. “I don’t want her upset any more than you do. She looks...kind of cool.”

  “She is. Really cool.” She glanced toward the bakery. “Which is why you can’t turn her world upside down with all the tact of a stampeding herd of elephants. She gave your father up for adoption in the kindest and safest way possible. Others...”

  He frowned. “Others what?”

  “Other women—” her cheeks reddened “—don’t get to even consider that option.” Her gaze turned angry once more. “If you’re mad at Marian, at anyone, because of all the terrible suffering you’ve experienced, you need to leave. Now.”

  “Leave?”

  She nodded and defiantly lifted her chin. “Leave Templeton. Just go. You’ve found your paternal grandmother, but I wonder if you have no intention of listening to her and finding out the truth. If you’d rather believe in your assumptions, then you aren’t welcome here. Okay?”

  He glared, every fiber in his body trembling with frustration as he gripped her hand. “Now you’ve had your say, here’s mine. I’m going nowhere, Kate. I’m not leaving town, and I’ll definitely be speaking to Marian Cohen now I know for certain who she is. My father wanted her to know he had a family, even if he didn’t do anything about it. I’m part of that family, and I’ll make damn sure she knows who I am. You don’t get to tell me what to do here.”

  He released her, and she stumbled backward, tears glinting in her livid gaze.

  Regret dropped like lead into Mac’s gut, but he couldn’t let her see his weakness. Couldn’t let her see how distraught meeting Marian had made him, seeing how easily she could be liked or loved. He needed time to brood and drink. So he left Kate staring after him as he marched along the street toward the Coast.

  Chapter Eleven

  TREMBLING, KATE STARED after Mac, her feet refusing to move. She wanted to stroll in the opposite direction as though she didn’t care that they’d argued. The anger in his eyes and the tremor in his voice had raised something ugly inside her, that feeling of failure and inadequacy she so often fought around her mother, which suffocated her usual empathy.

  Mac’s clear lack of trust in Kate’s methods showed that he, too, thought she was inept. Even though she’d proven her worth over and again at the center, the harsh truth remained that, all too often, the people she longed to care for, and have care for her, thought her useless.

  Except Marian. Tears burned. Kate owed her so much, including her loyalty...and heart.

  Pain struck deep in her chest, and she sucked in a breath. Damn him. Damn her mother and damn Dean. What did any of them matter? It was Marian she had to look out for right now.

  And, God knew, she was all too aware of the haunting pain of never knowing the child that should’ve been a woman’s to raise.

  Swiping at her damp cheeks, Kate pulled back her shoulders and headed for the bakery. She needed to at least check Marian was okay. She had no idea what Mac might have said to her.

  She pushed open the bakery door and scanned the many smiling faces, her shoulders lowering. He couldn’t have had a fit of temper in here like he had outside, for surely the aftermath of such an outburst would be hovering amongst these customers if Mac had shown his true colors.

  True colors she was glad she had seen before acting any further on her previous attraction. Bad boys were bad news. She should’ve listened to her instincts from the very first moment she met him. Instead, she’d kissed him, wanted him and, more than anything else, wanted to help ease a little of his pain at having lost his girlfriend and baby.

  She joined the line to the counter. What could she say to Marian? How could it be that she, Kate and Mac had all lost a child? Albeit under vastly different circumstances. Regardless of how their losses occurred, it was clear each of them had suffered the loss of their own baby, their own flesh and blood.

  Surreptitiously, she watched Marian walk back and forth, her mood as buoyant as ever. Kate released a slow breath as she fought to get the quickened beat of her heart under control. Thank goodness Mac had shown a little restraint here.

  She reached the counter and Marian beamed. “Hello, lovely. What can I get you?”

  Kate forced a wide smile. “Just a latte, please.”

  “Coming right up. Are you grabbing a table?”

  Kate glanced over her shoulder for a table where she might be able to grab a discreet word or two with Marian. “Sure. Why not? I’m supposed to be heading back to work, but another half an hour won’t hurt.”

  Plus, she needed to calm down before her temper showed to Nancy or anyone else she worked with.

  “Then I’ll bring it over. If you’re in the mood for some company, I’ll join you.”

  “Great.” Kate’s smile faltered. Would George tell Marian that Kate
had stopped by Jay’s earlier? That he thought she’d acted strangely? If he did, there wasn’t a lot she could do about it. “It will give you a chance to tell me about your holiday.”

  “It will...as well as telling you about a very interesting introduction I had to the young man I believe helped you out at the fund-raiser last weekend. Mac Orman?”

  Dread twisted Kate’s stomach. “Sure. I know Mac.”

  “Where’s he come from?”

  “I’m not sure. I think he’s staying at the Coast while he’s here.”

  “And what is he in town for?”

  Hating the way the ensuing mistruths half clogged her throat, Kate coughed and silently blamed Mac for putting her in this position. Or was Izzy right and it was Kate’s own fault for having to face Marian while carrying such a mammoth secret? “I think he’s...um... I’m not sure.”

  Marian’s wily gaze burned into Kate’s, and she nodded slowly. “I see. Well, grab a seat, and I’ll be straight over with our coffees.”

  Kate turned robotically, her conscience screaming. What was she supposed to do, or say, when Marian had her cornered in her own territory? Marian could have Kate trussed up like a Christmas turkey within ten minutes. She glanced toward the door as indecision messed with her conscience. Could she make a run for it?

  Coward. No, she wouldn’t do that. If she did, Marian would only chase her down and rugby-tackle her to the pavement, regardless of any nearby pedestrians.

  Kate slid into one of the booths and looked through the window toward the main promenade. It was a crisp and cold February day, but the Cove shone beautifully beneath the hazy sunshine. For the most part, Templeton was peaceful. Of course, they’d had times of trouble and spats of crime the same as any other town, but Kate loved it here. No one, including her mother, could ever make her leave. Even if Dean came back—which undoubtedly he would one day, considering his mum and dad lived in the Cove—his presence wouldn’t change the life she’d built here.

  The consequences of her sister’s three-week visit two years ago—and her subsequent betrayal with Dean—had obliterated Kate’s previous contentment in the town. Unable to listen to her sister’s feeble explanations about Dean’s charm, money or other temptations, Kate’s estrangement from her sister had been immediate.

  But now, Ali was getting married. Kate swallowed. Did she really want to miss being a part of that? Could her mother actually be right that it was time for her and Ali to reconcile? To move on?

  Despite the struggle and heartbreak, Kate was almost back to the person she was before Dean. She was even beginning to believe she had as much right to happiness as anyone.

  “Here you go, sweetheart.”

  At the sound of Marian’s voice, Kate swiped at her damp cheeks and turned.

  “One latte. And I threw in a cinnamon roll for good measure.” Marian lifted her gaze to Kate’s, and her smile faltered as she slid into the opposite seat. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course.” She blew across the top of her latte. “Just a little tired.”

  Marian’s gaze bored into Kate’s, and she held herself still.

  Finally, the older woman relaxed against her seat. “Phew, I’m bushed. People are so nice to say they missed me while George and I were away, but you’d think we’d been gone a year, rather than a fortnight.” She chuckled, her eyes never leaving Kate’s. “So, tell me about the fund-raiser. I gather it went well?”

  Kate prayed Marian let go of her concern over Kate’s emotions. “Really well. We surpassed expectations. Not bad for one day and night.”

  “And the Moon Shadows? Did they go down as well as I thought they would?”

  “Sure. They’ve got a lot of fans in the Cove.”

  “They do. Apparently, this Mac Orman stepped in and saved the day. Played the guitar, even sang a little, I heard.”

  Kate cleared her throat. “He was a lifesaver.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Marian’s gaze once more held Kate’s, and she fought the need to squirm. Instead, she arched her eyebrow, hoping to feign nonchalance. “What?”

  “Who is he, and why are you being so secretive about him? Don’t tell me you haven’t spent some time with him.”

  “I have. On and off.”

  “And?”

  Kate shrugged. “And nothing.”

  “Nothing, my backside.” Marian grinned. “I understand the Moon Shadows are a big deal, but why would anyone, a stranger no less, step up the way Mac did unless he wanted to impress somebody? Or at least do something to make sure she knows he exists.” Her tone was teasing. “I don’t need to show you my saggy bottom and droopy bosom to prove I wasn’t born yesterday.”

  Kate laughed, despite her friend’s astute observations.

  Marian grinned. “So, who is he? A new boyfriend? God knows, I’d like to see you’ve moved on from the good-for-nothing last one.”

  Caught between fear and further laughter, Kate’s shoulders slumped. A girl knew when she was beaten. “Mac’s in town for a while, but his plans are his own. I just hope when he puts them into motion, he does so with a little diplomacy.”

  Marian frowned, her humor dissolving. “Diplomacy? That sounds ominous.”

  Nausea rose bitter in Kate’s throat, and she sipped her latte before slowly returning the oversized cup to its saucer. “His situation is...complicated, but he’s an okay guy who’s known some pretty awful heartbreak. Just go easy on him.”

  “Go easy on him?” Marian laughed. “You’re talking as though I might have reason to roll him around in a muddy puddle. Stop your overprotecting, Kate Harrington. A man like that, can presumably handle a little old lady like me.”

  “Maybe.”

  “There’s no maybe about it. You know I just like to get to know everyone who comes to town, whether they’re here briefly or long-term. Plus—” she wiggled her eyebrows “—he seems just your type. Why don’t you flutter those beautiful eyelashes of yours and see if he takes the bait?” She glanced toward the lengthening line at the counter. “I’d better get back to work. Just let yourself have some fun with this boy. He looks as though he could use it as much as you.”

  As Marian levered herself out of the booth, Kate opened her mouth to...warn her? Ask her not to bother Mac? Tell her he was her grandson? She snapped her mouth closed. The truth of his and Marian’s relationship wasn’t Kate’s to tell. She just hoped to God Mac got the telling of it right because bad words, misjudged assumptions and a past full of regret often caused disastrous results.

  She watched Marian as she marched behind the counter, her expression as happy and carefree as always. Kate had seen buried secrets revealed enough times through her work at the center and in her own life to know that sometimes honesty was far from welcomed. Mac acted as though he was the one calling the shots, but once he told Marian who he was, Kate didn’t doubt for one second Marian would take charge.

  Kate left the bakery. Turning toward the Teenage Support center, she pulled her phone from her bag and typed a text to Mac.

  Please don’t say anything to Marian until we’ve spoken. I didn’t mean it when I said you should leave. I want you to stay. Everything will work out... She hesitated, took a deep breath and resumed typing. Promise. X.

  Dropping her phone into her bag, Kate lifted her chin and focused on work, the one thing she could do well...even if it took a while to convince certain people of her abilities.

  * * *

  MAC PICKED UP his phone from the bar at the Coast and opened the new text. His stomach knotted at Kate’s name. He didn’t think she’d speak to him again after his obnoxious speech...yet she offered an olive branch. One he didn’t deserve.

  He put the phone on the bar and nudged it away from him before picking up his second bottle of beer. He drank deep as though the liquid could dissolve his self-disgust.

  The more time h
e spent with Kate, the more he felt like the man he was before he lost Jilly. Now, after his outburst, he felt waist deep in the man he’d become after Jilly. He took another drink. God, he so wanted to be the old him. The man who listened, cared, helped and supported.

  “What’s up, Mac?”

  Mac shifted his gaze to Dave, where he stood a foot or so away, wiping glasses with a dish towel. Mac drained his bottle. “Nothing. Can I get another?”

  “Sure, if you think drinking in the afternoon is going to help whatever it is bothering you.” Dave opened the fridge behind him and pulled out a beer. He snapped off the top and slid it on to the bar. “What’s her name? Wouldn’t be Kate, by any chance?”

  Mac scowled. Was the woman’s name tattooed on his forehead? “No, not Kate.”

  Dave smirked and came closer, leaning his hands on the bar. “Look, my wife talks...a lot...and she isn’t backward in coming forward. When she says there’s something between you and Kate Harrington, I’m leaning toward believing her, unless you can prove her wrong. Bartenders are good listeners. That’s all I’m saying.”

  Mac took a slug of his beer. “Well, musicians aren’t great talkers.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, if you’re not going to use the tongue God gave you, how about you use your ears? I know Kate well enough to say she doesn’t let people in easily. Oh, she’d love to be everything to everyone, but, through her job at the center, she’s learned to help whoever she can as much as humanly possible, while maintaining some emotional restraint.”

  Disappointment squeezed at Mac’s chest. Was Kate successfully managing emotional restraint with him? Because if she was, he was in deeper trouble than he thought. His emotions weren’t restrained in the slightest as far as she was concerned. He really liked the woman. She had gotten deep under his skin.

  And it felt as though there was nothing he could do to halt his feelings for her.

  “If Kate’s spending time with you, listening to you or helping you in any way, then you’d be a fool to reject what she’s offering. That girl is a diamond. She’s had a rough time of it, but she’s doing her best to brush herself off and start over.”

 

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