Where the Heart May Lead

by Elizabeth Mowers

  “You’ve won her over,” Charlie said, strolling up to them. In long khaki shorts and a navy polo shirt, he was casual and tidy and worth taking a long look at...when CeCe wasn’t there to scrutinize her every blink.

  At his side was a tall, broad man who was no doubt just as handsome. He looked like a football linebacker.

  Charlie motioned to the man. “I want you to meet Tully.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Paige,” Tully said, shaking her hand. “Charlie speaks kindly of all, but what he said about you was especially charming.”

  Charlie gave Tully a playful slug in the arm as Lucy giggled.

  “Is that so?” Paige chuckled. Tully wrapped an arm around Charlie’s shoulders as CeCe and Angelo exchanged a satisfied look.

  “Sorry, Charlie. Was I not supposed to say that in front of her?”

  “I was playing this one a little closer to the vest, buddy.”

  Paige laughed. “It’s nice to meet you, Tully. You’re a longtime friend of the family, aren’t you?”

  Tully turned to Charlie. “You’ve been talking about me too, huh? I’m touched.”

  “Of course, buddy. Now get off me with the lady watching.”

  Tully smacked a kiss on Charlie’s temple, sending Charlie into a hearty laugh.

  “Ready to eat?” he asked. “Angelo, those ribs look delicious.”

  “Bayshore Bar used a dry rub from The Spice Trader and it’s divine,” CeCe said, sinking her teeth into one.

  “That’s where we’re heading, then,” Charlie said, as he and Paige waved goodbye and moseyed toward the food trucks.

  Paige looked around. “Where’s Mara?”

  “Mom didn’t want to come,” Lucy called as Tully motioned for her to walk ahead with him. “But she said to eat an ice cream for her.”

  “Crowds aren’t really her thing,” Charlie said in a lowered voice. “And she wanted to talk to her lawyer about the birth mother situation.”

  “Oh,” Paige mumbled. “About what exactly?”

  “How locked down the custody paperwork is—or isn’t.”

  “Does it look like there are any loopholes?”

  “I don’t know. They’ve been Lucy’s parents for ten years. I can’t imagine any judge in the world would reverse that based on some faulty paperwork. The trauma of placing Lucy with a new parent out of the blue—”

  “Anything is possible.” When she felt Charlie’s eyes land on her she hurried to clarify. “Nowadays you never know how a court would rule. It’s good she’s meeting with a lawyer and not just hoping for the best.”

  “Thanks for saying so, but that won’t help Mara relax.”

  “How can she? If I were in her position, I wouldn’t either.” Paige’s stomach churned at the thought of how desperate Mara must feel. She wanted to ease her anxiety, but to say anything would mean she’d have to say what happened ten years ago and she’d sworn to herself she’d never do that—ever.

  Charlie turned his attention to a fiddler. “Don’t you love things like this?” he said as the fiddler nodded to them both and played a jaunty tune.

  “I really do,” Paige said, watching Charlie more than the musician. Meeting him really had been a breath of fresh air.

  “My mouth has been watering for some sweet barbecue all day. Remember, it’s our duty to sample as much as we can. This is, after all, a contest to declare the best smoked meat this side of Lake Roseley.”

  A woman with sticks of skewered meats waved to them.

  “Hello, there, honey! Would you care for an all-meat shish kebab?”

  “She’s a little shy,” Charlie called, striding closer. “She’s never judged a contest before and the responsibility is really weighing on her tonight.”

  The woman’s face burst in excitement as Paige inwardly rolled her eyes.

  “Honey, step right up! I have the house special ready for the judges.”

  Charlie quickly put a finger to his lips and shushed her. “Ma’am, I wasn’t supposed to say that. Please don’t tell anyone she’s a judge. It’s a secret judging, after all.”

  “Of course not. Of course not,” the woman said, whose name tag read Connie. “This is the judge sampler. This pork has been smoked for nearly twelve hours. It’s fall-off-the-stick, melt-in-your-mouth perfection.”

  Paige accepted a sample, gearing up for her best food critic impression.

  “It has a nice flavor.”

  “Yes...and?” Connie prompted, leaning heavily over the truck counter. Charlie coughed to catch Paige’s eye, and when she focused on him, he looked ready to explode with laughter.

  “And...” Paige said. “I really love...um...how the meat falls apart. It’s very tender.”

  “It surely is!” Connie burst. “Twelve hours of smokin’, honey! I already told you that. And?”

  “Don’t be shy, honey,” Charlie said. “They picked you for this job because you’re a professional food critic from Chicago. This is the time to let your expertise shine.”

  Connie nodded approvingly as Paige shoved a bite of meat in her mouth. She had to come up with something good and fast.

  “The fats blend together to sear not only a hardwood flavor but also a texture that plays with your tongue. If I could invent another taste other than salty or savory, I would categorize this as...smokified.”

  Charlie turned away to mask his laugh as Connie stood straight and pressed her fists to her hips.

  “Honey, I don’t know what on earth you just said. Are you a critic at one of those fancy-pantsy art food magazines? This is real food. As my daddy used to say, it’s putting-hair-on-your-chest food. Smokified? Am I supposed to know what in the heck that means?”

  Paige scowled. “Smokified. I know it isn’t a word, but it could be. Smokified!”

  Charlie quickly slapped some money on the counter and wrapped an arm around Paige, escorting her away as Connie huffed. He burst out laughing as soon as they were out of earshot.

  “Quit doing that!” Paige said, tearing a bite of meat off her shish kebab. “You owe me another chocolate brownie for putting me on the spot again!”

  “I didn’t know I was getting dinner and a show,” Charlie howled as Paige’s scowl broke into a reluctant smile. “You’re something else, Freckles.”

  Paige shrugged. “Thanks, friend.”

  “Are we friends now? I thought we were still just being friendly.”

  “People who like to spend time together. Right.”

  “Right.”

  Paige slid onto a picnic bench as Charlie bought them a few more meat samples.

  “Here. I even found you coleslaw and fried pickles to count as vegetables.”

  Paige nodded appreciatively. “Did you grow up here? Has it changed much?” With the streets blocked off, little children scampered around them, some sticky faced with cotton candy. She turned her attention upward. Two-and three-story redbrick buildings lined the streets, each storefront with a different colored awning. Charlie nodded as Paige pointed to a burgundy one.

  “There’s The Spice Trader that CeCe was talking about,” Paige said. “Can they make rent selling spices?”

  “Somehow these shops survive. Mara’s does.”

  “But Mara is the only sports shop in a lakefront town. She seems like she would do great business.”

  “She does and mostly all on her own.”

  “That would be hard.”

  Charlie nodded and pointed to a shop with a pink-and-white-striped awning. “My first job was there at The Lollipop. Mallory, the owner, was hesitant to hire me and rightfully so. I ate most of the profits when she wasn’t looking.”

  “What’s that place?”

  “That’s an antiques store called Grandma’s Basement. I’ll have to take you in there. Miss Jenkin dresses like she stepped out of the 1940s and
’50s. And that,” Charlie continued, “is a hardware store that’s been on this street for three generations. Tully worked there briefly in high school.”

  “Is Tully your best friend?”

  “He sure is. He’d do anything for me.”

  “Must be nice,” she said, shoving a bite of coleslaw in her mouth.

  “Who’s your best friend?” he asked, softly.

  “I’m going through a bit of a dry spell when it comes to friends, I’m afraid.” She studied her lap. Admitting she didn’t have any friends hurt.

  “It’s probably been hard taking care of your uncle.”

  “Aunt Joan and Uncle Craig are it. They’re all I have in this world.” His eyes softened at her admission before gently kicking her under the table.

  “Well you have a friend in me, Freckles. Deal?”

  Paige kicked him back but couldn’t bring herself to give an audible answer. How did one even make a friend? She really didn’t have a clue, but maybe this was it.

  “What does Tully do for a living? He looks like he could be a professional wrestler.”

  “Nah. He’s more of a gentle giant with a sharp mind. Man, is he smart.”

  “Paige!” Lucy called, sprinting. “Look what I’m having for dinner.” She proudly held out a three-scoop ice cream cone.

  “That thing is bigger than your face,” Charlie said, lifting an eyebrow in Tully’s direction.

  “She promised me she wouldn’t get sick,” Tully said. “Don’t tell Mara.”

  “Are you scared of Mara?” Paige teased. Tully nodded as Lucy tried to lick her ice cream faster than it could melt over the top of her knuckles. If Lucy was hers, really hers, she’d let her bathe in the ice cream. There was so much she wanted Lucy to experience that she, herself, had missed out on as a child. And there was also so much she wanted to spare her from.

  * * *

  CHARLIE SAT WITH Paige on the edge of his truck tailgate, watching the crowd slowly begin to dwindle into the early evening sunset. Tully had taken Lucy to a kid attraction at the end of the street, complete with bouncy house, ball pit and inflatable games. He was the perfect wingman.

  “It’s a nice kickoff to summer,” Charlie said, motioning to the festival. “The weather isn’t too hot this early in the season.”

  “I’m surprised Lucy is still in school.”

  “They start earlier and go later than I ever remember as a kid. There’s a lot more pressure on them too. I wish I could take some of it from her.”

  “It’ll make her stronger.”

  “Do you think?”

  Paige leaned back on her hands. “I had a rough childhood, and I’d like to believe it made me stronger. Although most days I can’t tell.”

  Her voice had whimpered out at the end, making him wonder what “rough” meant. He leaned back on his hands to mirror her, admiring the soft profile of her face. She was a true beauty, not that he could see anything else with the soft sunset highlighting her delicate features.

  “Have you spoken to your uncle?”

  “He was in the hospital yesterday and the night before, but he’s home now.”

  “And I take it you were raised by him?”

  “No.”

  Her response was resolute as if punctuating a sentence she hadn’t wanted to speak.

  “I wondered what a rough childhood meant for you, but you don’t have to talk about it.”

  She drew and released a deep breath. “My grandmother raised me until I was fourteen. She didn’t have much, but she was a good woman and we made do. My mother was a flake, flitting in and out of my life for the first fourteen years.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “I didn’t know him. Neither did my mother much, for that matter. Anyway, my grandmother died when I was fourteen and life after that was...rough.”

  “What about your aunt and uncle?”

  “They wanted to adopt me, but my mother refused. It was a huge point of contention between the three of them. I remember a lot of fighting about it back then.”

  “Is that why you feel a connection with Lucy?” She turned at the question, and when she didn’t answer, he shrugged. “I can tell you see some of yourself in her. The day you met her, I couldn’t help but wonder if you were adopted too. I know there’s a strong connection between kids who are.”

  Paige stared off into the distance for a long time as the silence hung between them. He was about to apologize, about to ask her to forget what he’d said, fearing he’d unintentionally exposed something she wasn’t ready to reveal. But just as the words rose to his lips, she continued.

  “Trudy thought she could make it as a country music star. She dragged me around from one lousy situation to another.”

  “Trudy?”

  Paige hung her head, her voice very small. “My mother.”

  “Was she any good?”

  “I couldn’t say. Grandma said she had talent when she was young, but I didn’t know her before she started using.”

  Charlie’s face fell, grave. He’d grown up with a healthy set of parents. He’d never known his birth father, who’d died shortly after he had been born. He’d only known Glenn, his stepfather, and had only ever thought of him as Dad. Glenn had loved him and Mara and his mother every day. He couldn’t begin to imagine what life had been like for Paige if her mother had been an addict.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. How bad was it?”

  Paige sat up and ran her hands over her face.

  “I’m still feeling the repercussions of it every day, Charlie, and she’s been dead for a long time.” She looked back at him and winced a smile, drawing him to sit up to be close to her. “Let’s not talk about it. It’s not something I usually share when I first meet someone.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “Whatever I want?” she said, drawing a different meaning out of his remark than was intended. “I want to know what happened with that old heartbreak.” He groaned, making her side-bump him with her shoulder. “Come on. Your turn. I know there’s a story there, and it’s more than coming home to help Mara.”

  “It’s the oldest story in the book. I came home to nurse a broken heart.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll kill her.”

  He side-bumped her in return. “I’d rather forget her altogether.”

  “Did she leave you at the altar or something?”

  “No. She had the courtesy to break my heart before I put down the deposit with the caterer.”

  “You were engaged?”

  “Yep.”

  “Is that why you were willing to walk away from your tour guide business?”

  Charlie nodded. “She was one of my business partners.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I thought the business would be my life for the next thirty years—the sea, children, Crystal. Life can certainly change in an instant.”

  “Sometimes there are warning signs. Did you have any inkling she didn’t want to get married?”

  Charlie leaned over the edge of the truck tailgate, dangling his feet.

  “In hindsight, I can put my finger on a few things that didn’t add up, but when it finally came to an end, it was a sucker punch to the gut. I didn’t think I’d ever put myself out there and risk that kind of pain again, but the past few days have changed my mind. You’ve changed my mind.”

  When he checked to see how his words had been taken, their eyes collided. Her cheeks had flushed, looking tempting enough to touch.

  “Aren’t we just friends?” she whispered as he leaned closer. He matched the soft timbre of her voice.

  “We can stay friends if you want. That’s option one.”

  The colors in her eyes transformed like a kaleidoscope in the warm sunlight, the emerald green morphing to jade as tiny flecks of gold sparkled up at him. He yearn
ed to pinpoint every color he saw. He had fallen for her from the first moment he’d seen her, coasting up the street on her bicycle to stop short in front of him. He’d admired her trim physique and the way her golden hair had shone as slick as yellow fish streaking through the water. In that moment he’d somehow foreseen that she would change his life.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured. Her eyes fell to his lips.

  “I think I want option two,” she breathed. At her words, his skin pricked, the energy between them pulling him closer. Her blush-pink lips parted and when they met his, her eyelashes fluttered closed, sending his mind swirling. He felt he had sunk under water and could hear nothing but the pounding of his heart until her fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt. With her delicate whimper of satisfaction reverberating against his lips, he drew out his kiss, wanting to savor every taste of her.

  He’d forgotten he was supposed to be licking his wounds opened by Crystal. He’d forgotten what it had felt like to hold a woman close and feel completely lost in her. When he wrapped an arm around Paige’s shoulders, she maneuvered closer, and for the first time since arriving in Roseley, he felt like he was rewriting what his future could look like.

  * * *

  PAIGE WAITED WITH Tully and Lucy as Charlie scrounged for something in the front seat of his truck.

  “Are you sure we can’t give you a lift back to your motel?” Tully asked. “You’d have to sit in the back seat with Lucy, but we can throw your bicycle in the bed.”

  “No, thanks. I love riding at night.”

  “But it’s getting cold,” Lucy said, hugging herself in a shiver. Tully wrapped his arms around her. “You’re like wearing a winter coat, Tully.”

  “Happy to be of service, little Lucy.”

  Charlie emerged from his truck. “I’d prefer to give you a lift back to your motel,” he said as Paige shook her head. “But if you won’t let me, then you’ll have to take these instead.” He helped her slip into a gray zippered hoodie that smelled of him and all things good. “And because I care deeply about your safety and because you don’t want me to worry...” He held out a brand-new bicycle helmet. It was cobalt blue with silver streaks.