by Nan Dixon
Was it possible he could forgive Carolina, too?
* * *
CAROLINA SHOULDN’T BE clinging to Abby, crying on her shoulder. What had happened to the walls she’d built around her feelings? But Abby patted and murmured. And Bess and Dolley joined in. They hugged and whispered nonsense.
Tissues appeared. She ripped away from Abby’s comfort. “Thank you.” She wiped her face, blew her nose. “I’m a mess.”
The men had vanished. Typical. A few tears and the guys hightailed it out of there.
“Go change,” Abby said.
Dolley led her to the office.
“It’s smaller than the one in the restaurant,” Carolina said.
“Can’t waste space that could be producing income.” Dolley started to walk away but turned back. “I’m sorry about everything. I wish... I wish we’d known about you when we were growing up.”
Carolina collapsed into a chair, staring at the door Dolley had closed. Would things have been different if they’d known they were related? Would she have been included in their family?
She shook her head. No. The connection that tied them together had been their father. Their mothers would have kept them apart.
She peeled off her wet shorts and shirt, leaving on her underwear. She couldn’t go commando in someone else’s clothes. The cracked paint on the T-shirt spelled out Institute of Culinary Education. She pulled up leggings that were more like capris on her. But everything was dry.
After bundling her wet clothes into a bag, she went looking for Mamá. She’d only been to the front of the house a few times. Fitzgerald House was huge. And beautiful. And classy. Soft music played from the library. She nodded as Amy checked in a family at reception.
Mamá held court in front of a gorgeous white marble fireplace, holding a glass of wine. A small plate of food sat on a table next to her. Her eyes sparkled, maybe too brightly, but she was smiling. A couple talked with her. People and kids milled around the buffet tables.
Why couldn’t this be their life? Not owning and running Fitzgerald House, she wouldn’t know a thing about that. But having her mother happy and smiling. Cancer-free.
There was a rattle of a cart and Abby set a hand on her shoulder.
“There are so many guests,” Carolina said.
“Evacuees,” Abby whispered. “I’ve brought them dinner.”
“I never thought...”
“Your mother can have dinner in here or with us in the kitchen,” Abby offered.
“You’ve been so kind.” Carolina sighed. “I was just wishing she was cancer-free.”
Abby’s hand moved up and down her back. “I wish that for you, too.”
“Let me check with Mamá on where she wants to eat.”
She stepped into the library. Abby pushed the cart in behind her.
“Hey, Mamá.”
“Here’s my beautiful daughter.” Mamá waved a hand. “She has the voice of an angel.”
Mamá made introductions, stumbling over the names of the couple she was with.
“Do you want to eat dinner with us in the kitchen or eat in the library?” Carolina asked Mamá after greeting the couple.
“Eat with us,” Mamá’s new friend Lila said. She looked up at Carolina. “If that’s okay?”
“Mamá?”
“I’d rather eat here.” Mamá waved her arms around the room like a queen to her subjects.
“If you get tired...” Carolina started.
“We’ll find you.” Lila caught Carolina’s arm, taking Mamá’s empty wineglass over for a refill. “Don’t worry. My mother-in-law had breast cancer. And brain mets. I’ll keep an eye on Rosa.”
“She told you?” Carolina worried what all her mother had told these strangers.
“Yes.” Lila sighed. “I loved my mother-in-law, but, lordie, what came out of her mouth in the months before her death.”
Carolina shivered. “I know.”
“Take a break. I understand you helped the Fitzgeralds prep for the storm.” The woman filled her wineglass. “I’ve got this.”
Lila turned around and described the pasta and salad Abby had brought in for them to Mamá.
Carolina brushed a kiss on her mother’s cheek. The kindness of strangers.
Her footsteps dragged as she headed back to the kitchen. Each breath ached. How could she ever repay all the people helping her?
“Are you all right?” Sage stepped around the corner.
Was she all right? No. “Overwhelmed.”
“You probably haven’t eaten since breakfast.” He put an arm around her shoulders and walked her through the swinging kitchen door. “Let’s get you fed. Should I bring your mother?”
“She’s eating in the library.”
Dinner was a blur. Exhaustion and emotions weren’t good companions. And she didn’t understand why everyone was being so...nice. And Sage. He made sure she kept eating. And even smiled at her.
The weather played in the background. The video of waves crashing on Tybee beaches and palm trees twisting in the wind drew her eyes back to the television.
“The house will be secure,” Sage whispered.
“I can’t thank everyone enough,” Abby said as they ate.
“Is there anything else that needs to be done?” Kaden asked.
Wasn’t it interesting that the men looked to the Fitzgerald women for the answers?
“Nigel secured the belowground windows this morning, in case there’s street flooding,” Abby said. Nigel waved from his end of the table. “Everything loose is out of the yards and courtyards. Thank you. Really.”
“My orchids are safe,” Bess said. “Thank you.”
No wonder Sage got tired of hearing her say thank you.
She couldn’t keep her eyes open.
Sage tugged her head over to his shoulder. So strange. Why was he touching her again? She should resist. But her eyes closed and the conversation was just a hum.
“Come on, sleepyhead,” Sage whispered into her hair. “I’ll get your mother.”
Sage propped her into a sitting position and headed out the door.
She blinked. The dishes were cleared. Dolley and Liam sat in the sitting area. Bess and Daniel were gone. Kaden and Courtney helped Abby and Gray load the dishwasher.
“I’m sorry.” Standing, her head spun. “I...”
“You’re exhausted.” Abby shook her head. “Get some rest. We’ll see what the storm brings tomorrow.”
Sage came in, holding Mamá’s elbow.
“How was your dinner, Mamá?”
“Delicious!” She fluttered her hands.
Kaden came over, holding his phone. “FBI office is closed.”
Sage nodded. “I just saw the text.”
“Do you need a place to stay?” Kaden asked Sage. “I hear River Street has flooded.”
Carolina helped her mother put on her coat, wondering what Sage’s answer would be.
Sage stared at Carolina. “I’m covered.”
What did that mean?
Both she and Sage took Mamá’s arms as they fought their way through the downpour and wind. He half carried her mother into the apartment. “Wow. The wind gusts are stronger than a few hours ago.”
They stripped off wet coats, hanging them on the coat tree. She found a towel and wiped the wood floor. Then left it under the dripping coats.
Mamá’s face looked gray. Carolina’s voice shook when she asked, “Do you want to sit?”
“I’m worn-out.” Mamá shook her head. “Such a wonderful night, but the storm. I’ll head to bed.”
Carolina got Mamá’s pills and a glass of milk. Then helped her mother prepare for bed. By the time she shut off the light and closed Mamá’s door, she wanted to collapse.
Sage paced the living room. “Is s
he settled?”
Carolina wanted to sleep but she sank onto the sofa instead. “Yes. Thank you for everything.”
“I told you to stop with the thanks.” He sat next to her. “You were incredible today.”
“Incredible? Hardly.”
“You kept going and going.” He stroked under her eyes. “You need sleep.”
He was the reason she wasn’t in bed. “There were things that needed to be done.”
“I’ve thought about everything that’s happened. Thought about you and your...situation.” Sage took a deep breath. “I forgive you.”
What was Sage talking about? “What?”
“I forgive you.” Like it was a great benediction.
“Forgive. Me?” Her spine straightened. “For what?”
He waved his hand. “For not telling me who you were. Who your father was.”
Her brain clicked online as if she’d jiggled the mouse on her computer. “You forgive me for not telling you who my father was?”
He frowned at her tone. “And for stealing.”
She jabbed a finger at him. “You’re forgiving me for something that doesn’t have anything to do with you?”
“I... I...”
“I don’t need your forgiveness.” Her breath puffed out.
“But...” He frowned.
“You still don’t understand why I had to do this.”
He clasped her hands. “I want us to get past this. I want us to be together.”
Not like this. She pulled her hands out of his. “Do you think what I did was wrong?”
His gaze skidded down to his fingers as they tapped Morse code on his leg.
“Do you respect me?” She couldn’t sit so close to him. She stood.
“I... I admire you.” He exhaled. “But I can’t respect what you did.”
His words sliced through her. “Well, I don’t forgive you. Get off your high horse and get real.”
His mouth hung open.
“Stay or go. Sleep on the sofa. I don’t care. I’m going to bed.”
Sage would never understand her. And she didn’t have the energy or time to put up with his holier-than-thou attitude. She had to survive.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SAGE JERKED AWAKE. Gunfire?
Darkness blanketed the room. He rolled, dropped to the floor and slapped for his weapon.
Where the hell was his gun? Where was he?
Schooling his rapid breaths, he waited for his heart to stop hammering in his ears.
It wasn’t gunfire. The storm lashed the roof and walls, hard enough to make the windows shake.
He stood, easing and stretching the kinks from sleeping on the sofa. The last few days rushed back to him. The hurricane. Helping Carolina. Staying here because River Street was flooding. Carolina insisting, I don’t need your forgiveness. I don’t forgive you.
He’d thought forgiveness had been the way to get back together with her.
Apparently not.
Was he an arrogant, high-on-his-horse ass? Should he apologize?
Carolina was right. He loved her, admired her, but he didn’t respect her and couldn’t condone what she’d done.
What would his father... He rubbed his face, his hands rasping against his beard. Learning Dad’s secret had smashed his moral compass. He almost wished Mom had kept his dad’s infidelity to herself. Then he wouldn’t be so...unsure of his actions.
He moved to the window and stared into the courtyard. The sky was an angry gray mass. Every plant, tree and bush twisted with the wind. Branches, leaves and battered flowers covered the pathways and clung to the bushes. And this was only the leading edge of the storm.
A man bundled in a rain jacket ran through the courtyard. A gust pushed him to Fitzgerald House.
Time to start the day. He tried to be quiet in the bathroom. In the kitchen, he made coffee, hoping it would stop the small headache building behind his eyes.
As the coffee brewed, he flipped on the weather channel and straightened the sofa, trying to make it look like he hadn’t slept there. Not that he’d gotten a lot of sleep. His brain had spun from Carolina’s accusations.
Would he have used her...indiscretions...against her? He’d never been in a relationship, no girlfriends had lived up to his dad’s honor. But the pedestal he’d placed his father on had crumbled. He rubbed his hair. Yeah. He probably would have thrown her mistakes in her face.
And Carolina didn’t believe they were mistakes.
Did it matter who was right? Was being right worth never holding Carolina again?
He checked the fridge for ingredients. Then cooked sausage patties, setting them in a warm oven before cracking eggs.
Taking his coffee into the living room, he watched the storm coverage. The ticker scrolling across the bottom announced that power was out to a hundred thousand people along the coast.
A door opened down the hall. Then the bathroom door.
He waited.
Carolina moved around the corner.
His exhaustion disappeared. She didn’t smile, but just seeing her, brightened his day.
And he’d screwed everything up. “Coffee’s ready.”
She nodded to the TV. “Anything new on the storm and when it will pass through?”
She was probably hoping he’d leave. “They think it will move through by tonight. Electricity’s out on Tybee and the other islands. River Street is still flooded.”
“That’s normal.” She shoved back her hair and smothered a yawn.
He ached to comfort her. “You should get more sleep.”
“I’m...fine.” She headed to the kitchen.
“I’m sorry.” He followed, stopping next to her as she pulled out a mug and poured coffee. “You were right to call me on my attitude.”
She doctored her coffee and glared over the rim of the cup. “I’m done talking about this.”
He had to get through to her. Losing her was worse than living without honor. “We’re good together.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You mean sex?”
“No, I mean...” What the hell did he mean? “Getting through life. Helping each other.”
“I’m not sure you’re good for me.” Her shoulders curled in around her chest. “I don’t have the emotional energy for this.”
“You can’t fight for love?”
“I have to take care of my mother. Who knows what’s happened with her house. My half sisters hate me. I’m unemployed.” Her blue eyes, so filled with pain, stared up at him. “I’m empty.”
“From what I saw yesterday, your half sisters don’t hate you.” She’d worked side by side with the Fitzgeralds and they’d had a crying/hugging fest in the kitchen.
She shrugged.
“Wait.” He held up a finger. “You lost your job?”
“Last week.” She shoved curls off her face. “Abby’s not renewing my contract and doesn’t want me tending bar.”
“That’s...” Just what he would have done. “I’m sorry. But don’t push me away when I could help.”
“And you’d hold that over me, too? I don’t need that kind of help.” She turned to the cupboard and pulled out plates. End of conversation.
He couldn’t let her bear these burdens alone. His mother begged him to see Carolina’s actions from her perspective. Walk a mile—and all that. Carolina had done everything for her mother.
Could he accept that? Would he have done the same for his own mother?
* * *
CAROLINA PLUGGED IN her phone next to Mamá’s and Sage’s. At least they still had power. She and Mamá stared at the storm coverage on the TV.
The shower went on. She inhaled. Sage was in there—naked.
Wind rattled the carriage house. Mamá jumped.
“Can I get you
anything?” Carolina asked. She needed to do something to take her mind off Sage. “One of your protein drinks? Something to eat?”
“No.” Her mother shivered. “The storm’s so loud. It kept me awake last night.”
“Then maybe a nap?”
Her mother sighed. “What else is there to do?”
And...the power flickered.
Her mother clutched the chair arms. “No.”
“It’s not so dark. And the power’s still on.” But she expected that would change. “Why don’t you lie on the sofa? You can nap or just watch TV. Do you want a movie?”
“The weather channel is fine.” But Mamá moved over to the sofa.
Carolina got her settled and covered her. She could smell Sage on the soft throw. The combination of chocolate, citrus and him made her mouth water. Her mother’s eyes closed and her chest moved up and down in steady breaths.
Wouldn’t she like to be able to drop to sleep that fast. Last night she’d lain in bed for hours, listening to the storm trying to take apart the carriage house, and obsessing that Sage was just down the hall.
He’d forgiven her. Wanted to get back together. Part of her yearned to have him back in her life.
But she couldn’t be with someone who didn’t respect her. She had to be strong. She didn’t have the energy to deal with her issues and his.
The power flickered again and the room went dark.
She opened the curtains and the sheers, trying to let in as much light as the gray sky allowed. A wind gust rattled the window enough to make the glass undulate. She skittered away, worried the window would implode.
But the wind calmed and the window stopped shaking.
She stared at Fitzgerald House. It was dark except for the lights she could see bobbing throughout the house.
She didn’t pull out candles or flashlights. Who knew how long they would be without power. After unplugging the phones, she watched the wind twist the trees and shrubs in the courtyard.
Her phone rang.
“Everything okay over there?” Abby asked.
“We’re good.”
“If you need anything, call. I’m doing full meals for all the guests. Gray’s getting the generator going, so we’ll have some light.”