Harlequin Superromance November 2013 - Bundle 1 of 2

by Mary Brady

  A piece he hadn’t known he was missing fell into place. “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.” She slipped closer, sliding against him in a way that ignited both body and heart. “The only regret I could have had about this is if I hadn’t had the guts to ask you for it.”

  “I’m damned glad you’re a gutsy woman.”

  She smiled against him in the darkness, her lips teasing the corner of his mouth while her hands moved up and down his back.

  “And I’m damned glad that you were gutsy enough to accept the challenge.” She hooked a knee over his leg, bringing them closer still, making it absolutely clear that she had no intention of backing out now.

  “You up for another challenge?” he asked as he buried his face in her neck.

  “You’re on.”

  He smiled. “How do you feel about gliders in the moonlight?”

  * * *

  A COUPLE OF AFTERNOONS later, J.T. punched a button on his cell phone, ending the call that should have been welcome but instead left him feeling unsettled and suspicious. He left the shade of the grape arbor to rejoin Iris in the middle of her row of pole beans. She glanced up when he approached and looked at him with open curiosity.

  “Well? Who was that?”

  “The Realtor. We have an offer on the boathouse.”

  “Oh.” Surprise and disappointment warred in Iris’s eyes, a perfect match for his own conflicting emotions.

  “I know.” He reached through the long green leaves and snapped off a couple of beans. “I hate to see them go, too, Ma, but even with you spending summers up here, you won’t need this many places. One cottage, maybe another to run that brothel you’ve always wanted, but—”

  “Oh, you.” She threw a bean at him, grinning the way she used to when his dad was around, and for a moment all was well. But her smile faded as she looked around the yard. J.T. watched her drink in the sights he knew she would ache for, watched her eyes absorb the hundred shades of green in her garden, saw them linger on cherry tomatoes and pink snapdragons and then lift to watch the river in the distance.

  “It’s so brown out there,” she said at last. “I’m going to miss the colors.”

  “It’s only for the winter months.” He reached through the mass of vines, found her fingers and squeezed. “We’ll fill your place with plants. And you can paint the walls pink or purple or even bright red if you want.”

  She smiled, but her heart wasn’t in it. “I know I’ve asked before, but I have to do it one last time. Are you sure there’s nothing that would keep you here?”

  “I’m sure. So you can stop leaving those ads for physics teachers on the table.”

  “Children need to learn those things here just as much as down in Arizona.”

  “I know they do, but I’m not—”

  “What about the person who’s been keeping you out until all hours of the night?”

  For a moment it was as if Lyddie was in the garden with them—that was how real she was to him, even when they were apart. The leaves brushing his hand were her hair, the robin’s trill was her laughter, the sapphire-blue river in the distance was her eyes. He needed her and wanted her and wished to God he was in the cabin, holding her. But still—

  “No,” he said softly. “Not even for her.”

  He stood still while Iris watched him, her hand shading her eyes against the sun as she studied him. At last she spoke.

  “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does she know?”

  “Not yet.”

  Sadness shadowed her face. “Will she go with you?”

  He couldn’t answer. Saying no would make it too real. Saying yes would tempt fate.

  “She’s rebuilt her life once already,” Iris said. “I see why she wouldn’t want to do it again.”

  “How did you know it’s—”

  “Justin Tanner Delaney, I may be old, but I’m not blind. I can still put things together.” She peeked through the vines, shook her head and moved on to the next pole. “Besides, she’s the only woman you’ve mentioned since you came back.”

  That sounded reasonable. Still—

  “There’s no talk in town about her, is there?”

  “None that I’ve heard. Of course, they don’t discuss you around me, but I think I would have noticed something like that.”

  “Good.” He nudged a bit of dirt with his foot. “I don’t want things to be awkward for her when I’m gone.”

  “Is that why you can’t stay? To make things easier for her?”

  Where was she going with this? “Mom, this isn’t about me.”

  “Don’t you dare say it’s all because of me. There’s more to it than that, and you know it.” When he opened his mouth to protest, she rushed in. “Wait. Be honest. If things were different—with me, I mean—would you ever consider moving back? Maybe not here, in Comeback Cove, but somewhere around here. Upriver, or even in, say, Ottawa?”

  The automatic denial was halfway to his lips when he stopped.

  Would he?

  Two months ago he would have laughed at the idea. Even two hours ago, if Iris had posed her question right after he got the latest phone call from Jillian accusing him of tearing the town apart. But now? Seriously?

  He’d thought that twenty-five years away would have loosened the hold this place held on his heart, but once he came back...back to the river, the hills, the hint of cold weather that tinged the night air even in summer...

  They were a part of him and always would be. They were bred into him. Tucson was home now, yes, but despite all that had happened, Comeback Cove would always be the place he came from. The place that a part of him would always want to return to.

  “I’ve missed a lot of it. More than I realized.” It was all he dared say, walking the fine line between the honesty she’d asked for and the guilt he knew she would quickly embrace if he said more than that.

  “I thought so. You have that look about you.”

  “What look?”

  “Settled. Content. Not when you’re in town, or on the phone, but when you’re here. When you don’t think I’m watching, and you sit out on the deck and look at the river. I can see you soaking it in.”

  Okay. He’d give her that.

  “You know,” she said as she plucked a ladybug from the trellis, “last winter was very bad for me, but until then, I always managed. Your father knew what I needed. He made sure I took care of myself.”

  “Uh, did I miss a step in this conversation?”

  She sighed and rapped a fist on his forehead. “J.T., the biggest danger for me isn’t the lack of sun. It’s the lack of support. What I need most of all is to be with family, with people who won’t judge me for being...ill...and make sure I get to the doctor and do my light therapy and take my medication.”

  “That’s why you’re coming to Tucson. So I can help you with all of that.”

  “But I don’t need to be in Tucson. Not if I have you.”

  “Mom—”

  “Stop. Just stop and listen. I’ve lived with this since you were a child. I admit, I wasn’t always good about taking care of myself, mostly because I hated admitting there was anything wrong. But I had dozens of years of managing. As long as I had your father pushing me to do what needed to be done, I could manage. Even here.”

  Fear squeezed his gut. “I’m not Dad. I don’t know you the way he did, Ma, I don’t... He knew how to help you. I don’t.”

  “You could learn.” She pinched a leaf from the plant. “You have a PhD, Justin. Learning is something you excel at.”

  “There’s a big difference between studying astronomy and learning how to help you manage this. Nothing bad will happen if I screw up an equation.”

  “Y
ou won’t mess up.”

  “In Tucson, I wouldn’t have to worry about it. I would know you’re fine.”

  “I would be fine. But I wouldn’t be happy. I understand you can’t move to Comeback Cove. But Cornwall, Brockville, Ottawa... They all need teachers. They’re all close enough that I could make a home there, by you, and still stay part of everything I love here. And, my dear, so could you.” She lightly tapped his chest. “Think about it, J.T.”

  She turned away from the beans and headed for the snap peas, but he stayed where he was, frozen in place as surely as if January had just reached out a hand and grabbed him. Because if he moved, as scared as he was, he just might shatter the fragile wand of hope his mother had just handed him.

  * * *

  ON THE SATURDAY NIGHT of their second weekend together, Lyddie was the first to arrive at the cottage. She balanced a bag of groceries on her hip while letting herself in with the key J.T. had given her. This, she thought as she unpacked milk and eggs, would be a special night. She didn’t have to go to work in the morning. They were staying all night and all tomorrow and the night after that. Hours and glorious hours together.

  She had it all planned: make a little food, make a lot of love, fall asleep in each other’s arms. Repeat. Intersperse with laughter and stories. Enjoy. Lock each moment away in her heart to give her something to hold when they had to say—

  No. No, she was going to live in the moment and revel in the togetherness and not worry about what would happen later.

  She pulled a loaf of cinnamon bread from the bag, then a box of lemon pudding mix.

  “Oh, the things I have planned for you,” she murmured as she ripped the box open.

  She had the pudding heating on the two-burner stove when her phone rang. A quick glance at the display had her smiling.

  “Sara!” She gave the pot a stir, lowered the heat and headed to the love seat. “What’s up, chickie?”

  “Oh, Mom, you won’t believe it! Ms. Rasmussen—you know, the clarinet teacher—we had the best lesson today. And she said she wishes I was staying here, because she would tell me to try out for the Youth Symphony. She said I would be a shoo-in, Mom.”

  “That’s wonderful, babe. What a great thing for her to say.” Lyddie hoped her voice conveyed nothing of the dread she felt each time Sara mentioned the words she’d come to hate—if I stayed.

  “But that’s not all.” Sara’s voice dropped the way it always did when she was about to reveal something so special, she barely dared say it aloud. “There was this guy at the lesson today. I thought he was just there visiting, you know, like, her boyfriend or something? But when we were done, she said he was from the university, and she told him he should hear me, and he said I have a ton of potential and I really need to be studying with someone who knows what they’re doing, you know?” Her excitement was palpable even in her hastily drawn breath. “And he said he’s gonna call you in a couple of days to talk about my future. My future, Mom, can you believe it? He thinks I have a future!”

  Lyddie closed her eyes against the weight bearing down on her chest. She knew why the teacher was planning to call. He was going to ask for Sara to stay.

  “Wow,” she managed to say. “That’s so...incredible.”

  “Incredible? It’s the best thing ever! Oh, Mom, I’m so glad you let me come here! I’m having so much fun with the boys, and little Emily is so cute—wait till you see her. Yesterday I got to give her her very first bottle. But Mom, the music here.” She sighed in sheer bliss. “I can’t believe everything they have. It’s so awesome, you know?”

  Yes. She knew. She could feel it in every muscle, in every tendon that had carried this child through nine and a half long months. Sara was hers, damn it, one of the only things she had to hold on to. They couldn’t have her. Not yet.

  She stuffed her hand in her mouth and bit down, welcoming the pain because it pulled her back from the edge. Sara prattled on about her cousins and the friends she was making—“It’s so great, Mom. Nobody knows me. It’s not like I have to worry about what people will think”—and all the while, Lyddie bit harder on her hand and stared out the window with eyes too blurred to register anything.

  Something touched her shoulder. Something warm and solid, something strong and sure. In another second J.T. was kneeling in front of her, brushing tears from her face, tugging her hand from her mouth and wincing at the bite marks.

  Seeing him, feeling him, brought her back. She managed to breathe—how long had she been holding it in?—and said, in a reasonably steady voice, “Well, doll, you’ve had a remarkable day. I can’t wait to hear from this teacher.”

  “Okay, Mom. And make sure you ask him— Oh, I have to go. Emmy’s awake. Aunt Zoë left me alone with her while she took the boys to the playground. She said she wouldn’t trust her with anyone else this early, but I’m the exception.”

  “That you are, sweetie. Okay. Go get the baby and I’ll talk to you in a couple of days.”

  “Bye Mom. Love you.”

  “Love you, too, sweets.” But Sara had hung up as soon as she finished speaking, leaving Lyddie talking to dead air. She clung to the phone for a minute longer before slowly lowering it.

  J.T. was there immediately, reaching for the phone, reaching for her. She went into his arms gratefully. A long, shuddering sob broke free. She burrowed her face in his shoulder and held on, so very glad that he was there, that for this moment, she didn’t have to face it alone.

  His hands were warm on her back as he drew her closer. “Bad news?”

  “Only for me,” she whispered, and told him everything. When she got to the part about the impending call she started to cry again while he rubbed her back, slow circles that centered her, steadied her, strengthened her.

  “She’ll want to stay, won’t she?” he said when Lyddie finally stopped talking.

  “Probably. I keep telling myself maybe she won’t, that it’s one thing to plan on the summer and another to think about a real move, but I know it won’t make any difference. She’ll want to stay.”

  “And?”

  She lifted her head from his shoulder. “And what?”

  “What will you do?”

  “She’s only fourteen. I can’t let her go yet. She’ll have to go someday, I know, but not yet.”

  “She’ll hate you for it.”

  Lyddie sank back in weariness. “I know.”

  “The good news is, she probably won’t hate you forever.”

  “Just a decade or two, right?”

  “Lyddie...” He kissed her softly, pure comfort, before saying, “This is none of my business, and I’m not a parent. But if she’s as good as they say she is, you might want to speed up your plans a bit.”

  “You mean let her go? Now?” She shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

  “People do it. I had a student, a figure skater. She went as far as she could at home, but she ended up moving to Colorado when she was about Sara’s age.”

  Lyddie shuddered. “How could they do that? How did her parents let her go?”

  “It wasn’t easy. But I think they felt that if they said no—” he hesitated “—I think they figured if they kept her from following her dream, they would end up losing her, anyway.”

  “You think I should let her go?”

  He slipped his fingers through her hair. “I think you are one of the strongest women I’ve ever known.”

  “Why do I have a feeling that’s not such a good thing right now?”

  “You’ve survived worse. And if you decide this is what’s best for her, you’ll be fine.”

  “Ah, God, this is so hard.” She leaned back into him, rubbing against the rough bristle of his cheek. “I don’t have to decide right now, do I?”

  “No. You have time.”

  She did. Not much, bu
t some. Just like what she had with J.T.

  “You know,” he said slowly, “you might have more options than you realize.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well...Ottawa has an orchestra. Maybe even one for kids.”

  “I... You know, I think they do. There was one in Peterborough.” At his raised eyebrows, she realized she had never spoken much about her old life. “That’s where we used to live.”

  “Ever think about going back?”

  “Um, have you forgotten that I’m buying a building from you?”

  “Right. Sure. Of course.” He hooked his pinky around hers. “Just wondered.”

  “Afraid I’m going to back out on you after you’ve had to face the wrath of Jillian?” She kept the words as light as she could, but now that she wasn’t quite so miserable, she could see the tension in his shoulders. As if there were more to his questions than he wanted to let on.

  Was he afraid she would change her mind? He’d gone through a hell of a lot for her.

  “I do think about it, of course,” she said. “Not moving back, but, you know. The way it used to be. The house and the neighborhood. It was a good place. But this is home now.”

  He nodded, but the movements seemed mechanical, as if she hadn’t reassured him at all.

  “It’s a good option for Sara. I’ll have to check it out, and I’m so glad you thought of it.” She wound her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss in the curve of his shoulder. “Thank you for being here. I’ve kind of forgotten how nice it is to have someone to share these things with.”

  “No place I’d rather be, babe.” He gave a shake, almost as if he were trying to push away a bad memory, then gave an exaggerated sniff. “Um, is something burning?”

  “Oh, crap. The pudding!” She bolted from the love seat to turn off the heat, but it was too late.

  “Scorched,” she said, letting the spoon drop into the pot. “And I had such great plans for it.”

  His arms crept around her waist and she relaxed back against him, closing her eyes as he kissed the side of her neck.