A Dad for Charlie
Page 15
“Overwhelming?” Paige hugged her arms around herself. “It can be. I’ve spent enough time around patients to develop a pretty thick skin. I just try to remember to focus on who they are beyond whatever’s wrong with them. You treat the full patient, not just the disease.”
Fletch’s admiration mounted. “You’d have made a great doctor.”
She looked away from him, her feet dragging among the rocks. “I wouldn’t have, actually. I had one teacher tell me I had too much empathy for patients. She was right. I couldn’t leave it at the door. I brought every one of them home...” She trailed off, ducked her head in that way she had when she realized she’d said too much.
“So you were what? A nurse?” He didn’t want to push, but this bit of information wasn’t enough to satisfy his mounting curiosity. What was stopping her? What could she be hiding that she couldn’t be open about her education and training?
“No.” She shook her head and stopped walking. She lifted her chin and looked at him. For an instant, he could almost see the battle going on behind those beautiful eyes of hers. Dare she trust him? she appeared to ask, and it was all he could do not to reach out, take her in his arms and whisper, Yes, dare.
“It must be difficult,” he said instead. “Not feeling as if you can be yourself. Not share your life with people. With friends.” Friends who longed to be more. And he did long for more. The time he was spending with her felt like precious gems being doled out by some omniscient power: just enough to keep him interested; not enough to bring him peace of mind. “No one is going to judge you, Paige. Whatever it is you’re hiding, it doesn’t have to haunt you the way it does.”
“You think that’s what I am? Haunted?”
Haunted, hunted. What a difference one letter could make. He wanted to make her understand that he could help, that he could maybe fix whatever it was she believed was wrong with her life. But he’d also learned enough in the last few days to understand Paige wasn’t the type of woman who wanted or needed anyone to fix anything for her.
At least...she would never ask anyone to.
“Seems to me you’re tired of running from whatever you think is chasing you.” He gave in to the impulse that had struck hours before and stroked a finger down the side of her face. “You look around here and see a home you want, but one you’re afraid of fully committing to. Your heart might be here in Butterfly Harbor, but your head?” He inclined his to the side, wishing he could erase the sadness he saw creep into her eyes. “Your head in a sense might be on its way out of town already.”
“I don’t know how to live any other way, Fletch.” She surprised him by taking a hold of his hand and squeezing. “It’s all I’ve ever known. I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But believe me when I say I need to live in the here and now.”
“Then why don’t you?” He took a step closer, could feel the way her breath trembled as she released it. “I hear you saying the words, but everything about you tells me you’re stuck back there. Wherever it was. In whatever happened. Maybe if you told me, told someone—”
“I can’t.” She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. “As much as I want to, there’s too much at stake. I won’t take the chance and risk Charlie’s future. She’s all that matters to me, Fletch. She’s all that’s ever mattered.”
The idea that she’d turn her life upside down for her child was one of the things he loved most about her. That she may have sacrificed her own future...if only there was something he could do to fix the situation. Convince her the only way through whatever it was that had driven her to Butterfly Harbor was to ask for help.
The only thing he wanted, at this moment, was for her to be safe. And happy. To stop looking over her shoulder...
If lightning had cracked through the sky and struck him in the heart it wouldn’t have had the same effect her words did. He realized what he’d been struggling with ever since he saw her step onto the porch of the Flutterby Inn at Holly’s wedding.
He was in love with her.
“What about your future, Paige?” How he squeaked out the words he didn’t know. There was no admitting his feelings to her, not now. Not when that might be the final shot that would send her racing out of town. He needed to gain her trust, to be there for her if and when she was ready. “What are you teaching Charlie if you don’t do what it takes to make yourself happy?”
“Please don’t do this, Fletch.” She attempted to back away, but he tightened his hold, ever so gently. Enough to keep her in front of him with nothing more than the pressure of his fingers and the longing in his eyes. “Please understand that this is the only way I know to keep my daughter safe. Can’t we just...be...friends?”
Friends? He’d passed the point of friendship days, weeks, maybe months ago. He leaned down and brushed his mouth against hers. The way her breath caught in her chest, the way her hand clenched around his, he knew this wasn’t what she wanted, but that she believed it was all she could have. “For now.” He stroked his thumb across her lower lip. “But if and when you’re ready for someone to share the burden with, you let me know, okay? Now, how about we get Charlie home?”
* * *
IN THE DARKNESS, Paige reached onto the shelf over her head and grabbed her phone to check the time. Again. It was 3:00 a.m.
She threw her arm over her eyes. Her stomach kept dropping as if she was on an unending loop of a roller coaster. One she’d been trying to jump off ever since they’d gotten home.
What was it about the early hours that made the world press in on her? Pushing the air and life out of her as the universe struggled to right itself. It didn’t help she was chastising herself for tumbling into the exact situation she’d sworn to avoid.
As if Fletcher Bradley was a situation. A complication, sure. A distraction, certainly. A man who could make her smile by simply looking at her.
She’d heard people lament about the right guy at the wrong time, but never in her life did she expect to experience it firsthand.
And did he have to be so...right all the time? She was stuck in the past. But it was a past she couldn’t ignore or forget. Not when it was nipping at her heels. She couldn’t very well ask him to wait two months without triggering every alert the man possessed. Leave it to her to need to get beyond a statute of limitations before she could attempt the one thing she’d assumed she’d never get another shot at.
Paige rolled onto her side and stared at the wall. Nope. No answers found there. Some people had nightmares keeping them up at night. By all rights she should have them. But no, her brain spun in the complete opposite direction and refused to stop running the unending film loop of Fletch carrying Charlie up the stairs and tucking her into bed.
It was all Paige could do to breathe around the memory. He took such care with her little girl, this tall, lanky deputy who pulled a pink lace-topped bedspread over her child as if it had been made of spun gold. He’d left in silence, but not before he’d stopped to press his lips to the top of Paige’s head.
He didn’t need to say anything. Because he’d said it all in Abby’s front yard. Everything she wanted...
Everything she couldn’t have.
“Okay, that’s it.” She sat up, threw the covers back and sighed. Sleep was officially out of reach. She needed to put this useless stretch of time to better work.
She fixed herself a pot of coffee, clicked on her laptop and settled in at the kitchen table with what remained of the list of places Jasper O’Neill might be hiding. She’d made note of the books in the teen’s room, including something she’d bet had slipped Fletch’s notice. Clicking over to the search engine, she typed in the different titles, found some of the entire texts online and skimmed through them to confirm her suspicions. She wasn’t sure what options might be available to a young man with a criminal record like his, but maybe his record wasn’t as set in cement as Fletch w
ould have her believe.
Paige chewed on her lip, sipped her coffee, curled up in her chair. He’d probably be more open to any information requests she might make of him now. There had been a distinctive shift in their...relationship or whatever she might call it. The ball was entirely in her court. But it wasn’t a game she was willing to start playing unless she had some rules in place.
Rules and protection.
The edge of the duffel bag peeked out from under the table, a visible reminder of the past she lugged behind her. What she wouldn’t give to unload, as Fletcher suggested. Maybe...
Paige reached over and pulled the thin lace curtain over the window to the side so she could look down the backstreet into the darkened depths of Butterfly Harbor.
Maybe...if he knew what was at stake, if he knew why she’d done what she had...maybe she could trust him?
From Charlie’s room she heard her daughter let out one of her night sighs, as if she was working through her own frustrations in her sleep.
Whatever softening Paige might have been feeling where it came to Fletch solidified. She couldn’t take the chance. That police detective back in New York had promised to make her life impossible if she didn’t cooperate with the investigation; if she didn’t testify against the young man whose life she’d risked her entire career to save. She might have agreed if he hadn’t taken things a step too far and threatened to have Charlie removed from her custody, which sent Paige spiraling into the awful memories of her years in the foster care system. Possible or not, it didn’t matter. The threat had been enough.
The thought of losing Charlie...
Paige tasted bile in the back of her throat. There was nothing Paige wasn’t willing to do to prevent that from happening. She wasn’t losing her daughter.
It didn’t matter how much she wanted to believe Fletcher—and by extension, Luke, Matt and Ozzy—would understand her situation. When all was said and done, she’d aided a young man suspected of trying to murder a police officer. Cops bled blue for each other. It was a bond that couldn’t be breached.
And as much as Paige wanted to believe Fletch might understand, she wasn’t willing to risk her daughter’s future on the off chance he would. If that meant setting her own feelings aside, so be it.
Charlie was all that mattered.
Making sure she could stay in Butterfly Harbor was all that mattered.
And in that, Fletcher was right. She had to stop running from the past. It was time to have faith, to believe that this would work out in the right way. Maybe, at some point, she could reevaluate and confide. In Holly, in Abby. In Fletch.
But for now... Paige gave herself a good mental shake and started a new search that brought up a map of the entirety of Butterfly Harbor. For now, she had another young man, another family to protect.
And this time, she wasn’t going to make any mistakes.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHARLIE TIPTOED OUT of her room, rubbing her eyes as she approached the table where her mom was sleeping. “Mom?” Notes and papers lay on top of each other, an empty mug by her hand. Everything was a mess. That wasn’t normal. Charlie frowned, looked at the clock. “Hey, Mom. It’s almost seven.” She reached out and shook her mom’s arm. “Mom, wake up.”
“What?” Paige jerked up in her chair, her hair mussed around her head. “Oh, hey, baby.” She reached out and patted Charlie’s shoulder. “What are you doing up so early?”
“You’re going to be late for Calliope’s deliveries.” Charlie didn’t like this. Her mom was never late. For anything.
“Oh. Jeez.” She shoved her hands into her hair and jumped to her feet. “I must have fallen back asleep. Coffee.” Her mom turned in circles, as if she couldn’t remember where she was going.
“I’ll fix you some.”
“You know how?” Paige frowned.
“Of course. I’ve watched you enough.” Charlie beamed. She loved impressing her mom.
“You are an angel. Thanks.” She grabbed Charlie’s face in her hands and gave her a smack of a kiss on her forehead. “I won’t be long.”
“Okay.” Charlie hurried into the kitchen, opened up the coffeemaker, measured out the coffee the same way she’d seen her mom do most mornings and added the water. When the pipes groaned and Charlie knew the shower was running, she crept to the door, waited to hear the rumble of the sliding shower door and her mom’s usual yelp at the cold water.
Charlie bit her lip so hard it hurt. She returned to the table and ducked down. She dragged the duffel bag free. Her mom was so careful with how everything was arranged. Charlie stuck her hands inside and gently pried open the sides. The plastic bags of clothes, the extra shoes, a small stack of cash. Charlie slipped her fingers inside and felt around for the thin wallet her mom stashed their credit cards in.
When she had it in her hands, she stopped. Her heart pounded. Her stomach rolled. Credit cards were a no-no. Her mom had told her that on more than one occasion. Charlie wasn’t entirely sure why, except they were for use only in an extreme emergency.
Charlie unsnapped the wallet and pulled out the bright red card. This was an emergency. That her mom had yet to unpack this bag told Charlie all she needed to know. She wasn’t planning to stay in Butterfly Harbor. She was ready to leave again.
Seeing Deputy Fletch in their apartment last night was proof Charlie was right. He’d been super nice to her again, and seemed to have forgotten about what had happened at the beach, just like Simon told her he would. Simon also had said she’d know when the time was right.
They had the perfect plan. All they needed was to pay for the tickets to be waiting for them at the restaurant. An email invitation would be sent...as if Deputy Fletch had won a contest. She’d even helped Simon create it on his tablet computer.
Charlie stuck the card in her teeth, put the wallet back in the spot where she’d found it and zipped the bag back up. She grunted as she pushed it under the table again, then ran to her room and hid the card in her underwear drawer with her treasure-hunting notebook. She and Simon had been working on this for the last two days. Now all she had to do was get Simon to a computer before he went to school and they could finish it.
The bathroom went quiet.
Charlie gasped as the bathroom door swung open. “Coffee’s ready!” She carried her mom’s mug into the kitchen and poured a new cup, added a little of that weird nut milk she liked and a tiny spoonful of sugar. She held it out as Paige came out, her hair dripping, her anxious eyes flitting around the room.
“Thank you?” Paige looked at her over the rim of her mug as she drank. “You’re up to something. This isn’t going to be another conversation about how you need a cell phone, is it?”
“Maybe.” Charlie fibbed. She grabbed hold of the blankets and sheets and pulled them up toward the top of the bed. “What if I need you? How will I find you?”
“Look to your right. It’s where I always am.”
Charlie laughed at the familiar joke.
“Maybe in a couple of months we can talk about it again. But for now, you do not need a cell phone.” She walked over and caught Charlie’s chin in her hand. “Everything okay with you? I know we haven’t seen each other a lot lately.”
“Everything’s great! Did he tell you? Deputy Fletcher loved the cake I made. He ate a huge slice!”
“I think I heard something about it.” Paige nodded. “You definitely left an impression, kiddo. Now, how about you go get dressed and we’ll head over to Calliope’s?”
* * *
“SORRY WE’RE LATE!” The car door creaked as Paige climbed out, her feet hitting the gravel drive of Duskywing Farm with enough force to send a plume of dust up over her sneakers. The days that began with her delivering fresh produce purchased from Calliope’s farm to homes and businesses always seemed to hold the most promise.
“Calliope? Oh.” She stumbled. “Fletch. What are you doing here?” It was too early to deal with Fletcher. Especially with him in that eye-catching uniform.
“Good morning to you, too.” If he took offense to her abrupt question, he didn’t show it. Seeing him back in uniform might just be the reminder she needed. Law enforcement. Danger. “Calliope called. Said she thought maybe someone had gotten into her supply shed overnight.”
“Oh.” Paige reached out and tugged Charlie close. “I hope there wasn’t any damage.”
Calliope Jones popped up out of her extensive vegetable patch, her turquoise-and-lavender flowing skirt and blouse swirling against her and the morning breeze. Long red hair tipped with braids, beads and an occasional tiny bell whipped around her shoulders as she waved. She retrieved her full basket and walked out to greet them, stopping at the edge of the gravel path.
Bare feet and gravel definitely did not mix. “I should be able to get all the deliveries in before I head to the diner.” Paige took Charlie’s hand as they walked toward one of the more mysterious and intriguing characters Butterfly Harbor had to offer. Being around Calliope Jones was a bit like reading an ancient mystery: informative, interesting and completely unpredictable. Those filters most people had? Yeah, Calliope didn’t seem to possess any of those.
“I only have three customers on the list for today,” Calliope said in that musical lilt of hers. “I’m not worried.”
Paige wasn’t sure what a worried Calliope would look like. “If you have the boxes ready to go, I can load them in the car...” Paige stopped short when she saw the unfamiliar expression of uncertainty on Calliope’s pale, freckled face. “Is something wrong?”
“Wrong? No.” Calliope shook her head and set her hair to jingling. “I understand you’ve been working with Deputy Fletcher recently. Something to do with Jasper O’Neill?”