by Cindy Kirk
Cade nodded. “Temporarily.”
“While I hate to disagree with Beck and Max, I think you’re being smart hedging your bets.” Anita took Steve’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “While Steve and I, and I daresay the rest of the Bloom family, are behind you one hundred percent, there’s no guarantee you’ll win the election in March.”
Concern that appeared quite genuine blanketed Anita’s features. “To tell you the truth, I’m a little worried. I’ve heard quite a few people say they’re planning on voting for Travis.”
“Travis doesn’t have near the experience—” Marigold began, but Cade’s fingers tightening around hers had her defense dying in her throat.
“That’s the thing about elections.” Cade spoke easily, confidently, as if he’d been through dozens. “You never know who will win until the votes are counted.”
“So true.” Anita nodded. “Yet I’ve spoken with many people who believe Travis should have been appointed. Hometown boy and all that.”
“Like Anita said, we’ll do whatever we can to support you.” Steve patted her hand.
“Back to Big Brothers.” Cade shifted his stance and faced Steve directly, effectively ending the campaign discussion. “Have you ever considered becoming a Big Brother to K.T. and Braxton Lohmeier?”
Marigold found satisfaction in Anita’s gasp, although she was found herself equally startled by Cade’s suggestion. She was even more surprised when Cade slanted a glance at her, a clear request for backup.
Partners, he’d said.
“I think it’s a fabulous idea, Dad.” Marigold forced enthusiasm into her voice. It wasn’t hard. She did think it’d be a great match. “The two are at the age you work with best, and you know the family. It would be a perfect all around.”
“I hadn’t really thought about being matched again.” Steve rubbed his chin, his hazel eyes thoughtful. “What you’re saying makes sense. I—”
“You can’t mentor them.” Anita’s words sliced the chilled air. “It’s not a good idea.”
Her father glanced at his girlfriend. He appeared genuinely puzzled by her vehemence. “Why not?”
Marigold could almost see the wheels churning in Anita’s brain. The woman had to know she stood on unsteady ground. Steve valued family, and these were her grandsons.
The brunette gave Steve’s arm a mollifying pat. “We’ll chat about this later.”
Steve cocked his head. “What’s wrong with now?”
Anita’s gaze shifted to Marigold. “Because now is the perfect time to discuss the fact that your daughter has been in town less than two weeks and is already sleeping with the sheriff.”
Because his palm rested against Marigold’s back, Cade felt her jerk as Anita’s blow connected.
The unexpected offensive maneuver held the added benefit of diverting Steve’s attention from her. A double win for Anita.
“Is it true?” Steve glanced from Cade to Marigold, then back to Cade.
Marigold’s mouth opened, closed. Two bright spots of color that had nothing to do with the weather dotted her cheeks.
Keeping his gaze on Steve’s face, Cade took Marigold’s hand firmly in his.
From everything Cade had observed, Steve Bloom appeared to be a social liberal who rarely meddled in his daughters’ affairs. But Marigold was the baby of the Bloom family. That fact undoubtedly made her father even more protective.
Marigold opened her mouth again to say, well, Cade wasn’t exactly sure what she planned to say. It didn’t matter. Anita was his dragon to slay. Marigold, his princess to protect.
“I first met Marigold at my cousin Shannon’s wedding the summer before last.” When Marigold attempted to pull her hand away, Cade only tightened his hold. “Your daughter made quite an impression on me.”
Cade turned to Marigold and smiled. He wasn’t surprised to see her gorgeous blue eyes, normally as clear as the sky, held storm clouds.
“I couldn’t forget her.” Cade spoke directly to Steve, keeping his gaze focused on the older man’s eyes, willing him to see he spoke from the heart. “Although we lived in different cities, we remained connected. Apart, but not really apart, if that makes sense to you.”
“Sarah and I had that connection.” Steve’s smile turned wistful. “Even now, I—”
“You said you weren’t with him.” Apparently sensing control of the conversation slipping from her grasp, Anita pinned Marigold with her gaze. “At the New Year’s Eve party I specifically asked if you were together—”
“Sometimes, Anita, you ask questions that are really none of your business.” Despite the tight set to her jaw, Marigold’s tone managed to remain calm. “You bring up matters that are personal and private. Such as my relationship with Cade.”
Though she’d directed her comments to Anita, red crept up Steven’s neck.
“You make an excellent point.” Regret was written all over the man’s face. “Your relationship with Cade is not my—nor Anita’s—business.”
Marigold’s father slanted a pointed look at his girlfriend.
“I was simply inquiring—” Anita began.
“You were asking about, commenting on, something that was none of your concern.” Steve’s tone held a note of apology. “I’m ashamed to admit I got caught up in the asking. I’m sorry for it.”
Cade met the schoolteacher’s gaze. “I have feelings for your daughter. I won’t hurt her.”
“When you care about someone, hurt and pain are often part of the bargain. You’re a good man, Cade. I’m happy you and my daughter are together.”
“Now that we have that settled”—Marigold pinned Anita with her blue eyes—“you never did say why you object to my father being Braxton and K.T.’s Big Brother.”
Marigold’s innocent expression and sweet smile didn’t fool Cade. From the controlled steam seeping out of Anita’s ears, it didn’t fool her, either.
Only Steve appeared to take the shift back to the question as a normal progression of the conversation.
As the silence lengthened, Anita’s fingers tightened around the cup she still held. If the woman could have gotten away with it, Cade had no doubt she’d have flung the cocoa into Marigold’s face.
“I’m afraid my reasons are,” Anita paused to clear her throat, “deeply personal.”
Deeply personal, my ass, Cade thought.
Yet he had to admire the way Anita delivered the words. And the sheen of tears she’d conjured up was the mark of a real pro. It was no wonder Steve had been taken in by her.
“Deeply personal?” Marigold laughed. “Seriously, Anita? We’re talking Big Brothers here.”
Before the woman could respond, Ami and Prim ambled over.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” Prim offered an apologetic smile to the group before turning to her husband. “You know how we promised to teach the twins how to skate backwards? Well, Ami and I tried but—”
“We botched it badly.” Ami stepped to her husband and gave a little smile. “Would you and Max mind giving it a shot?”
“I’m not sure how much help Beck will be.” Max gave his brother-in-law a wink. “But I’ll bring him along for pickup duty. Where are the twins now?”
Prim pointed to where Callum and Connor stood at the edge of the pond. The boys appeared to be trying to chop a hole in the ice with a hockey stick.
Beck cocked his head. “Whose stick are they using?”
“Mine,” Max roared and took off running with Beck at his heels.
“We didn’t mean to interrupt your discussion.” Prim’s gaze swept the group, and her expression showed genuine regret. “But it’s getting late and we’d promised the boys. I—”
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Steve reached over and squeezed Prim’s hand.
“What’s going on here?” Bypassing Anita, Ami’s gaze shifted to Marigold.
“Dad is considering doing the Big Brother thing with Braxton and K.T. Lohmeier.” Marigold smiled brightly. “I think it’s a good idea.”
“It’s a fabulous one.” Prim’s voice rose. “You only have to ask Max. He’ll tell you what having Dad mentor him meant.”
“Why just considering?” Ami inclined her head. “Are the boys unwilling to participate in the program?”
Beck always said Ami was sharp. The way she zeroed in on the nuance of the statement told Cade the man knew his wife well.
“They haven’t been approached yet.” Marigold slanted a glance at Anita, whose lips were pressed together in a tight, firm line. “Anita doesn’t approve.”
Prim shifted to face Anita, her expression genuinely puzzled. “What possible reservations could you have? It’s such a great program.”
“She said her reasons are deeply personal.” Marigold drawled the last words.
“Okay. I’m clearly missing something.” Ami focused on her father. “Do you understand?”
Steve crossed his arms, shook his head.
All eyes shifted to Anita.
“If I must air my family’s dirty laundry . . .” Anita drew in a deep breath and let it out with theatrical slowness. Once she had command of center stage, she fixed her amber eyes on Steve. “I’m trying to dissuade you because I see approaching Cassie as pointless. She won’t agree to you being involved with the boys. She knows you and I are involved.”
Ami raised a hand. “I don’t understand what you and my father dating has to do with him being a Big Brother to Braxton and K.T.”
“Any attempts I’ve made over the years to counsel Cassie about her lifestyle, about doing better by herself and her children, has been taken as criticism. After the baby was born, I thought we were making progress. But when I told her she needed to get Clint out of the house and bring Dakota back home, she once again cut me out of her life.” Two perfect tears slipped down Anita’s cheeks. She paused to clear her throat. “It breaks my heart not to have a place in my grandchildren’s lives.”
Steve gave her shoulders a squeeze. “She’ll come around, Cookie.”
Marigold arched a brow. “Because of this breech in your family, you expect my father to step away from them, too.”
“Of course not.” Anita dabbed at her eyes with a tissue pulled from her pocket. She gave Steve a watery smile. “I simply don’t want him to get his hopes up. And frankly, I’m afraid if Big Brothers put forth Steve as a possible mentor, Cassie will say no to the program. Not because she doesn’t see value in what they’re offering, but as a way of thumbing her nose at me.”
“That makes sense.” Steve gave a reluctant nod.
“Does this mean you’re not going to even try?” Marigold asked.
“It means,” Steve’s gaze slid from Anita to Cade before settling on Marigold, “I’m going to give everything that has happened this evening more thought. Then I’ll decide where to go from here.”
Chapter Thirteen
“This hot chocolate is pretty good.” Marigold wrapped her fingers around the cup they’d purchased on their way to the parking lot. After the incident with Anita, Marigold had been ready to leave. Still, she’d stuck around another hour.
After opening the passenger door for her, Cade rounded the front of the Jeep and slipped behind the wheel.
Marigold knew he’d been puzzled when she’d insisted on stopping to pick up a drink as they were leaving. He didn’t understand the side trip did double duty. She not only showed her support for the Seedlings, she gave the impression of being at not all bothered by Anita’s remarks.
“Having the Seedlings sell cocoa on Friday nights was a brilliant idea.” Cade started the engine but kept the vehicle in park. “Though it appeared parents were doing most of the work.”
“I can’t imagine Callum and Connor serving hot cocoa, even with Prim and Max there.” Like Cade, Marigold kept her tone pleasant and conversational.
Keep it together, she told herself when a watchful waiting filled the interior of the vehicle. Didn’t Cade realize she wouldn’t ruin what was left of the evening by bringing up Anita? Still, seeing her father take the woman’s arm shortly before she and Cade left had stung. How could her dad be nice to such an awful woman?
“Anita is a hard one.”
Marigold whipped around to face Cade, the quick movement sending the cocoa sloshing to the rim of her cup. “Hard?”
“Difficult to figure.” Cade drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “I thought I had her pegged. That remark about us sleeping together confirmed my initial assessment. But when she was talking about the past she and your father shared and her family troubles, she seemed almost . . . human.”
Marigold reluctantly nodded agreement.
“I assume Richard was her first husband?”
“That’s right.” Marigold took a sip of cocoa. “Richard died of a heart attack almost twenty years ago. I don’t remember much about him, but everyone says he was a nice guy.”
Silence filled the cab for several heartbeats.
“That tie to the past likely explains why your father has cut Anita so much slack.” Cade slanted a sideways glance. “But I guarantee the woman is going to have some explaining to do tonight.”
“About the Big Brother thing?”
“No.” Cade reached over and brushed a strand of hair back from her face with a gentle hand. “About the remark she made concerning our relationship. Your father was seriously pissed.”
“I was caught off guard. Normally I give as good as I get. But occasionally I have trouble finding the right words.” Marigold flushed. “Your response was perfect.”
For a long moment, he said nothing. “I meant every word.”
Marigold recalled what he’d said about connections, about bonds that could hold two people close despite time and distance. Before she’d returned to Good Hope, before Cade, she wouldn’t have understood the concept. Now she did.
In the dim light, their gazes locked. Time seemed to stretch and extend. He opened his mouth as if to say more, but pressed his lips together and backed out of the stall.
“There’s a piece of property I’m considering.” Cade turned toward town. “I’d like to show it to you and get your opinion.”
While Marigold welcomed the change in topic, she wondered if he was serious. Was this really a good time for him to buy a house? “Is this because Beck and Max said you should put down roots?”
“I run my own life and I make my own decisions.” A muscle in Cade’s jaw jumped. “Actually I’ve had my eye on this particular property since I moved here. The owners plan to list it with a realtor next week but are willing to give me first rights of refusal.”
Cade turned off the highway at the next corner. This road was paved but barely wide enough for two cars to pass.
When he made another turn and Marigold realized where they were headed, she didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “You’re looking at property in this area?”
He flashed a grin. “Go big or go home.”
This particular stretch of waterfront, known locally as Millionaire’s Row, contained some of the most expensive homes in the area. If Marigold wasn’t mistaken, David and Whitney Chapin lived just down the road.
“You’ve been holding out on me, Rallis.” Marigold kept her tone light. “What did you do? Win the lottery? Rob a bank?”
Cade’s lips twitched as he made one last turn. “Neither.”
He didn’t elaborate and Marigold didn’t push. There would be plenty of time to grill him once she saw the house. She gazed out the window, enjoying the drive.
“My sisters and I loved hiking this area. Back then, the cottages were small and our parents knew all the owners.” The memories of those childhood days wrapped around her like a comforting blanket, sending warmth coursing through her blood. “We always came home with buckets of wild blackberries and thimbleberries.”
“Thimbleberry?” Cade’s tone was skeptical. “Are you making that up?”
Marigold laughed softly, understanding his puzzlement. “Some people call them blackcap raspberries, but aro
und here you’ll hear them called thimbleberries.”
“I’m not familiar with either term.”
“Tart but delicious.” Marigold ran her tongue across her lips, remembering the taste. “Ami makes loads of jam every summer. I’ll see you get a jar.”
The Jeep slowed to a crawl. “You put it on bread? Like any other jelly or jam?”
“Just like any other jam.” If this drive and conversation were his way of trying to distract and soothe her, it was working. “But Ami does this dessert thing with the berries, pound cake, chocolate bars, and marshmallows that everyone should experience at least once in their lifetime.”
“Sounds intriguing.” He slanted her a sideways glance and grinned. “I’ll ask her to make it for us sometime.”
Us. Marigold’s heart twisted. She’d be long gone before the berries were at their peak.
Cade pulled the Jeep to the side of the road. Seconds later they stood, with snow crunching under their boots, at the edge of the freshly plowed road.
Marigold gazed over the plot of ground blanketed in white. Tall pines stood like green sentinels at the northernmost edge of the lot.
“Home sweet home.” Cade offered a sardonic smile. “What do you think?”
“I think the temperature must have dropped twenty degrees since we left the pond.” Marigold hunched her shoulders against the stiff breeze off the bay. “Ah, there’s no house here.”
“A house?” Cade chuckled. “I can barely afford the ground.”
When he named the figure the owners were asking, she whistled, although she wasn’t surprised. “How are you going to afford it?”
“My grandma Gwen died last year.” Cade’s tone might be light, but Marigold saw the sorrow in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” Marigold squeezed his arm. “Losing someone you love is never easy.”
“Yes, well.” Cade took a breath, let it out slowly. “Instead of leaving her estate to her children—my father and his brother—she opted to divide it between her five grandkids.”
Marigold tapped a gloved finger against her lips. “Are you saying I’ve been dating a rich guy?”