“Judge Barrow did sentence us to community service. We’ll probably be picking up trash, pulling weeds, or grooming the trails around Heartbreak Cove after school. Just the two of us.”
“Sounds like the perfect opportunity for a nice long chat, to me,” Merry said, waggling her eyebrows. “And your dad can’t object, because it’s court-mandated community service. Definitely not a date.”
“That’s true.” Taylor straightened away from the doorjamb, her face brightening as if she’d caught sight of the light at the end of the tunnel. “Thanks, Merry. I’ll start thinking about what I want to say, once I have him alone.”
She seemed to hesitate, then all in a rush, Taylor continued, “For whatever it’s worth, Merry, I think you’re totally qualified to find the right person to help with the therapy stuff. I mean, I think the reason people like you is that they can tell you listen to them. Like, really listen. So thanks. For listening to me.”
Throwing a quick, fierce arm around Merry surprised shoulder, Taylor squeezed once and then jumped up from the couch.
“You’re welcome! And hey, let me know if you want to test out some potential conversational openings ahead of time,” Merry called as Taylor bounced out of the office and down the hall to do her chores.
Is this what it’s like to be a big sister? To know the right thing to say and how to solve life’s problems?
If so, I could get used to being on this side of the sister relationship.
Of course, being a younger sister had its good points, too, Merry reflected as she went back to her notebook filled with fund-raising ideas. She stared down at the tip of her blue pen idly doodling in the margins, and saw that she’d unconsciously drawn a pony with Ben’s wavy dark hair lounging on the living room sofa at Isleaway Farm.
Happily, there was no one in the office to see her fierce blush, or the satisfied smile she felt steal across her face.
Because as embarrassing as Ella’s teasing was, she’d been right about one thing.
Merry didn’t regret going back on her vow not to sleep with Ben. She’d objected to the idea originally, not only because she couldn’t stand the thought of him expecting sex from her in exchange for his name and his trust fund, but also because after Alex’s birth, she saw her body in a totally different way.
Her breasts were functional—they provided sustenance. Her body was a vehicle for life, for the comfort and support of the life she’d created. It hadn’t belonged to Merry alone since the moment she felt Alex’s first fluttering kick inside her.
But being with Ben had pulled her back into her own body in a major—and majorly pleasurable—way. He’d reminded her of what she could feel when she let herself go, and she wanted to feel it again.
Soon.
*
The emergency call turned out to be one of Grady’s false alarms about the wild horse band.
Grady, who’d appointed himself the unofficial protector of the wild horses after he moved back here five years ago, had a terrible habit of riding out alone to check on them, seeing something out of the ordinary, and assuming that veterinary care was urgently required.
“They’ve adapted over centuries to these exact living conditions,” Ben reminded him as they hiked back through the frostbitten marsh to the side of the road, where he’d parked his truck. “You don’t need to call me out here for every little sniffle and sneeze.”
“To be fair,” Grady protested, “the foal has big scabs all over his lower legs. And it’s Tough Guy—Ella would flay me alive if anything happened to him.”
Tough Guy was a five-month-old bay colt who’d had an inauspicious start to life when his dam ran into trouble during the birthing process. Grady and Ella had found her and, with Ben’s coaching over the phone, had helped her give birth to a healthy boy.
So even though contact between the band of horses and humans was strictly prohibited, in order to protect the animals and keep them from losing the instincts they needed to survive in the wild, Grady and Ella felt an ongoing and personal interest in this particular colt.
Ben could understand that, which was why he tempered his voice. “He’s got mud rash. That’s it. The wild horses live in salt marshes on an island—they’re going to get damp. It’s very common, so untwist your panties and take a deep breath.”
Narrowing his hazel eyes, Grady cocked his head to one side as he absentmindedly scratched under the leather of his horse’s bridle. “That was almost … sympathetic.”
Ben snorted and kept his gaze focused on packing up his completely unused and unnecessary medical kit. “Alluding to the state of your panties? Yeah, if that’s sympathy, I’m a regular Mother Theresa.”
“No, seriously.” Grady fitted his foot into the stirrup and vaulted into the saddle, easily controlling Voyager’s sidling step. “For you, this counts as a good mood. Practically … what’s that word that means bubbles?”
“Effervescent?” Ben supplied, amused.
“Yeah! That’s you. Effervescent.” Grady gave him a Grouch eyebrow wiggle. “I take it the wedding night was a success.”
“A gentleman does not kiss and tell,” Ben said, tossing his gear in the back of the truck. “But since I’m no gentleman, I’ll say this. My wife is especially lovely by moonlight.”
“Wow.” Grady reined Voyager over until he was close enough to lean down and put his scarred right hand against Ben’s forehead. “You don’t feel feverish. But what else could account for this delirium, Doctor?”
“Shut it.” Knocking his best friend’s hand away, Ben put his hands on his hips and stared Grady down.
The teasing smirk faded from Grady’s face, replaced by a hint of a frown. “Seriously, buddy, I’m glad. After what happened at the reception, well, we wondered if y’all would be able to get back into the wedding day spirit.”
“Ah yes, the incredibly crass gate-crashing by my esteemed parents.” Ben dug in his pocket for the truck keys. He’d successfully sustained a good mood through the daily debacle of trying to convince Alex that food belonged in his stomach and not splattered on the walls, an all-too-brief good-bye kiss from Merry before she rushed out the door to a meeting with a contractor at the barn, and a false-alarm phone call on his day off by not thinking about his parents.
But now that Grady brought it up … “I wish I knew what my father is planning.”
“Other than to hang around and make your life miserable?” Grady shrugged. “That seems bad enough to me, man.”
“You don’t know my father,” Ben said grimly. “Making my life miserable is his default setting, requiring no special effort from him at all. In retaliation for me having the unmitigated gall to get married without his permission, I think we can expect much worse.”
True concern darkened Grady’s eyes, shadowed under the brim of his dingy red and white Nats cap. “There’s nothing he can do, though. You and Merry are both legal adults—you don’t need anyone’s permission to get hitched. You’ve got everything all sewed up.”
“Not everything,” Ben pointed out, feeling a deep, dark brood coming on at the thought of it. “The adoption papers are drawn up, but Merry won’t sign until after we live together for a year.”
“Makes sense.” Grady gave a pragmatic shrug. “Still, it’s her decision. Don’t see what your dad could do to influence her one way or the other.”
“I hope you’re right.” Ben climbed into the cab of the truck and stuck the keys in the ignition. “But if there’s one thing I learned growing up in that house—other than how to tie a bow tie—it’s this: never underestimate Tripp Fairfax.”
“I tell you what. To make up for the false-alarm emergency call today, I’ll spend the afternoon poking around, see if I can figure out what they might be up to. They’ve got to be staying at the Fireside Inn, that’s the only decent hotel in Winter Harbor. I’ve got a friend on the reception desk there, I’ll give her a call.”
“If you want to waste your afternoon the way you wasted my morning, go right ahead,” Ben said, slamm
ing his door shut. He leaned out the open window to finish the conversation. “I’ll bet you five bucks you don’t find out anything worth knowing. My father is a cagey old bastard—he’s not some stupid Bond villain who’s going to spill his evil plans to the receptionist.”
Grady lifted one hand in a salute. “Can’t hurt to try. I’ll call you.”
Waving him away, Ben started the truck and pulled onto the rutted country road in a spray of loose pebbles. By the time he turned down Shoreline Drive and reached the first of his NO TRESPASSING gates, he’d forgotten about it.
But the buzz of his cell in his back pocket reminded him, and he was conscious of a low-level current of curiosity zipping through his bloodstream when he saw Grady’s name and number on the screen.
He lifted the phone to his ear. “Fairfax here,” Ben said automatically.
“You owe me a fiver.” Grady sounded far too pleased with himself.
“Hmm, judge’s ruling? Nope, I don’t owe you squat until I hear what you dug up and evaluate its worth for myself.”
“Even Judge Barrow would side with me on this one.” Grady paused for effect and Ben had a momentary vision of himself reaching through the phone to strangle the guy. “Your parents are not going to be an issue.”
Ben snorted. “What makes you think that?”
“Because according to my friend, they checked out of the Fireside Inn this morning. They’re gone, man. You won!”
Light-headed with a sickening mixture of relief and dread, Ben was glad he’d already pulled over to open the gate. Hopping down from the truck and heading for the latch, he tried to make himself believe it.
“Hello?” Grady asked, frustrated. “Did we get cut off? Because I expected to hear a few more promises of paying off your gentlemanly wagers.”
“Sorry, I’m here.” Ben gripped the freezing metal of the gate and held on tight. “And you’ll get your five dollars—this is definitely information worth having.”
“I must be missing something. Why don’t you sound more stoked?”
The gate hinges shrieked a protest as he pushed it open; time to get out here with the WD-40. “You know that feeling you get when you spot a water moccasin out on the lake, and if you take your eyes off it for one second, it disappears?”
“So … you’re saying just because they’re gone doesn’t mean they can’t slither up and bite you.”
Ben stared up at the bare branches overhead. “Exactly. I’m not sorry they’re gone—but somehow, I felt safer when I knew where they were.”
Chapter Twenty
Until the moment Taylor knocked on the open door of the barn office, she wasn’t sure if she was going to, or if she’d wuss out. “Merry, can I talk to you about something?”
Eyes sparkling like sunshine glinting off the waves, Merry gave her a conspiratorial grin. “More boy troubles? I’ve been wondering how it’s going at school between you and Matt.”
Taylor swallowed what felt like a flock of butterflies into her stomach. “No, it’s not about Matt, actually. I was wondering if you have any idea what’s going on between my dad and your mom.”
Gesturing Taylor into the office, Merry came around her desk to settle down on the cracked vinyl sofa against the wall, where they’d had their heart-to-heart the other day. She patted the cushion beside her, and Taylor settled down tentatively. “What do you mean?” Merry asked.
“Are they going to take the next step and get married, or what?” Taylor burst out, impatience getting the better of her.
“Maybe you should ask Jo or Harrison about that,” Merry hedged, and Taylor sighed.
“I can’t. Things are too weird between us right now. Ever since the night they came to get me from the sheriff’s office.” Taylor fought the urge to squirm, remembering the things she’d said and the hurt on Jo’s face.
Monday’s riding lesson had been especially sucktastic. Jo had tried to be normal, but it was just so obvious that they were both tiptoeing around what they really wanted to say.
Merry cast her a sidelong look. “Things seemed better at the lesson today.”
“You were watching? Geez.” Taylor ducked her head, wishing the couch would crack open and swallow her up. “I messed up the flying lead change so many times.”
“That looked impossible to me!” Merry jostled her arm. “I was amazed when you got it right. I could hardly even tell the difference, but you and Jo both seemed to know what you were looking for.”
“I guess that’s true.” Taylor sighed out a laugh. “At least I know enough to know when I’m screwing it up.”
“Lots of things are like that,” Merry said, kind of dreamy and thoughtful. “All you can see are your mistakes and failures, up to the moment when you finally get it right.”
Taylor gave her a suspicious glance. “Is that a metaphor for how I should be patient with Dad and Jo for being so slow to get their act together?”
Merry’s eyebrows shot upward and she grinned. “No! I was thinking about something else completely—but now that you mention it…”
“Ugh, come on.” Taylor nudged her with her shoulder, like she was being playful, but part of her wanted to lean on Merry’s shoulder. “Being patient is the worst. I’m supposed to be patient about everything! Sometimes I wonder if it ever pays off—do you ever wake up one day and realize all the crap you’ve been patiently waiting for has actually arrived?”
“What a cool idea.” Merry hooked an arm over Taylor’s shoulders and tugged her in close, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. “But the need for patience is one of those things you never outgrow, unfortunately.”
Taylor groaned, but she couldn’t help smiling. It was sort of cool to have someone to talk to who was a little older, but not, like, parental old.
“So here’s what I think about Jo and Harrison. Are you ready?”
Merry paused dramatically and Taylor gave the obligatory eyeroll and snotty “No,” but she wasn’t deterred.
“I think we should push them to get married.”
“Wait.” This time Taylor did pull away. “Seriously?”
“Dead serious.” Merry did stern eyebrows for half a second, then ruined it with a smile. “They’ve been dating for years now. They’re totally in love, their lives are already intertwined. It’s very possible that Mom is overthinking this whole thing.”
“According to Jo,” Taylor said, in her most mature voice, “blending families is very complicated.”
“That might be true, but it’s not the kind of complicated you can solve without jumping in and working it out.”
“See, that’s what I think, too!” Taylor said excitedly. “We can figure it out as we go along, if we’re all willing to try.”
“I don’t believe Jo’s unwilling to try. But she’s afraid of making another big mistake that will affect all of us.”
“All of who?” Taylor cocked her head.
“All her kids. Ella, me, and you.” Merry pinned her with a severe stare. “And do not say one word about you not being Jo’s kid. I don’t want to hear it. Of all of us, you’re the one she’s most scared of messing up.”
A lump jumped into Taylor’s throat, making it hard to talk. She swallowed around it as best she could. “Why do you say that?”
The corners of Merry’s mouth turned down. “Because she’s already made a ton of mistakes with Ella and me, and we’ve worked through them. Well, we’re in the process. But with you, it’s like she has a chance to finally be the mother she should’ve been to Ella and me. And speaking as someone who’s staring down the barrel of motherhood and quaking in her brand-new paddock boots, trust me—Jo is scared to death that she’ll screw it up. And this time she won’t have alcoholism as an excuse for failure.”
Merry sat back in her corner of the couch, but Taylor caught her hand and squeezed it.
It had cost Merry something to share all of that, Taylor could tell. And she could only repay Merry for treating her like a grown-up one way: with honesty. “Th
at’s a lot to think about. I’m not sure I can believe that’s totally where Jo is coming from—it’s easier, in a stupid way, to believe she just doesn’t want me as one of her daughters. But I’ll think it over, I promise.”
“Try the idea on for size, see how it fits.” Merry smiled faintly, her eyes bright in the slanting natural light pouring in the slot window near the office ceiling. “And even if you can’t believe I’m right about Jo’s fears and feelings, you can believe this. I’d be happy to have you as my little sister.”
In some ways, that was even harder to swallow, after everything Taylor had done to try and break up Ella and Grady, and what a little snot she’d been to Merry—but as she stared at Merry’s open, honest face, Taylor’s breath caught.
“You mean it,” she whispered. “You really mean it.”
“I told you,” Merry said, smiling. “I could get used to this older-sister gig. It’s more fun than I would’ve thought—and rewarding.”
On pure impulse, Taylor pushed up on her knees and threw her arms around Merry, hugging her quickly before scrambling off the couch. Heat scorched up her neck and over the tips of her ears, but she managed not to stare down at the tips of her brown leather boots. Instead, she held Merry’s gaze and said, “For the record, you’re pretty good at the big-sister thing. And maybe you’re a good mom, too.”
“Thanks.” Merry’s voice was a little husky. “Also, for the record, you give good hugs.”
Taylor glanced away, thoroughly embarrassed and pleased. Casting around for a way to break the taut, charged moment, she blurted, “Hey, did you know Ben’s here?”
Merry stood up and went to the office door to peer down the barn hallway. Taylor could tell the moment she spotted her husband’s medical kit outside Java’s stall by the miniature thundercloud crackling with lightning over her head. “That man! I told him not to go into Java’s stall on his own.”
“See, you’re a good wife, too,” Taylor said encouragingly.
Merry’s sudden hectic blush was visible even in the low light, and a rush of awkwardness swamped Taylor. “I mean because you worry about his safety, and like, nag him to take care of himself. That’s all!”
Shoreline Drive (Sanctuary Island) Page 20