by Leigh Duncan
“Tom and I—this is Tom, by the way—we thought you’d like to take a carriage ride through Heart’s Landing. See the town from the perspective of a bride on her way to her ceremony.”
An excited grin stole across Tara’s face. “I’d like that very much!”
Tom set the brake and smoothly climbed down from his perch. “Allow me,” he intoned. The step he lowered from beneath the carriage snapped into place. Extending a hand, he assisted her onto the leather cushions.
But when Tom bent to fold the step back into place, Tara leaned forward. Her pointed gaze landed on Jason. “You aren’t coming?”
“I’ll drive and meet you at Bow Tie Pasta.” The more time he spent with Tara, the more difficult it became to maintain his distance. A task that would be impossible if he joined her in the buggy’s tight space.
“Well, then…” Tara gave the cushions a wistful look. “If you’re not riding in the carriage, I’m not either.”
He’d spent enough time with Tara these last few days that he recognized the futility of arguing with her once she’d made up her mind. Oddly enough, he liked that quality in her. “Do you mind dropping us off at the restaurant?” he asked Tom.
“It’d be my pleasure,” the livery owner answered with a knowing grin. “Guess she’s got your number,” he whispered as the carriage sank beneath Jason’s weight.
She had his number, all right. And here he’d been doing so well with the whole keep-your-distance thing. But how was he supposed to remain detached and separate from Tara in a carriage built for two?
Now what have I done?
She should’ve done the smart thing and just gone along with Jason’s plan, but she hadn’t been able to resist asking him to join her on the ride. And when he’d refused, she’d known that he’d insist on coming with her rather than let her miss out on the experience. He was caring and generous like that. But what was she going to do now? No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t very well rest her head on his shoulder or enjoy the feel of his arms around her. She’d simply have to make the best of the awkward situation.
While the coach dipped and swayed under Jason’s weight, she scooted over as far as she could, but there was only so much room in the cozy carriage. There certainly wasn’t enough for her to avoid the press of Jason’s thigh against hers when he sank onto the plush cushion beside her. Her shoulder brushed against his arm no matter how far she leaned in the opposite direction. Even with the top down, there was no escaping the pleasant smell of his aftershave mixed with the masculine scent that was his alone.
Nor did she want to. And that was a problem.
The carriage dipped again as Tom took his seat on the high bench in front of them. With a quiet “Cluck-cluck” to the horses and a gentle slap of the reins, he headed in the general direction of town. Springs creaked and wheels turned beneath the coach. Unable to face Jason, to let him read the thoughts that most certainly played across her face, Tara pretended the passing landscape demanded her full attention.
She might as well admit the truth, to herself if to no one else. Her feelings for Jason ran far deeper than they should considering the short time she’d known him. His very presence inspired trust. She wasn’t the only one who saw that in him, either. The people of Heart’s Landing could’ve chosen anyone else to fill in as her escort when the mayor had fallen ill, but he’d been their first pick. He might not think she’d noticed, but she’d seen how everyone relied on his leadership and strength. Nor could she help but admire how he’d returned home when his father got sick, or that, after his passing, Jason had thrown himself into the family business. He’d earned her respect for the way he’d dedicated himself to preserving the Captain’s Cottage as a place where brides and grooms started their new lives together. The more she knew about him, the more certain she felt that there was something between them, something more than just the usual friendship that sprang up between two people who’d spent as much time together as they had over the past few days.
Unless she was seriously mistaken—and she didn’t think she was—her feelings weren’t at all one-sided, either. Jason had shared his thoughts, his plans for the future with her. He’d sought her company when he didn’t have to. When he was around, they were always laughing, telling jokes. On more than one occasion, she’d caught him admiring her when he didn’t think she was looking. He could have treated her like a business associate, but when they’d danced together, he’d leaned in closer than friends did. As if that wasn’t enough to send warmth flooding through her whenever she thought of him, Jason had encouraged her to pursue her dreams and hopes.
Which brought her to the main reason why snuggled next to him was the last place in the world she should be right now. Because, in order to achieve her dreams, she’d have to destroy the very thing he valued the most—the legacy he’d inherited. She had no doubt there was something amiss in the legend of Captain Thaddeus. Over the years, there’d been too much speculation, too many hints, that the facts of his story wouldn’t hold up under close scrutiny. The proof she needed existed in the ship’s logs and journals—she just had to find it. But when she did, it would destroy even the faintest hope she and Jason had for any kind of relationship.
If only they’d met under different circumstances. Or in a different time altogether. Then maybe things would’ve turned out differently for them. But as things stood, they had no hope for a future. So, why had she asked him to ride with her?
Because she couldn’t resist him any more than she could resist breathing.
Beside her, the man who was foremost in her thoughts cleared his throat. “You’re awfully quiet,” he said when they’d ridden in silence through half of Heart’s Landing. “Is everything all right? Tom can turn the buggy around and take us back to the barn if you’d rather.”
“No. This is great.” She summoned a smile for the gentle sway of the carriage, the clop-clop of the horses’ hooves on the pavement, the happy couples who walked hand-in-hand on the city sidewalks. One day, she hoped to have that kind of relationship with someone. But not with Jason. Not when her main purpose in coming to Heart’s Landing was to challenge his long-held beliefs about his ancestor. She shivered at a sudden chill.
Ever attentive, Jason asked, “Are you cold? I didn’t think to bring a blanket. I should have.” Without waiting, he stretched his arm around her shoulders and snuggled her closer.
And heaven help her, she leaned into him. It didn’t matter that she told herself it was the wrong thing to do. As she soaked up the warmth of Jason’s chest, she couldn’t retreat from the firm press of his fingers on her arm. Even though she knew she should move away, should hug her side of the carriage, she remained exactly where she was all the way through town.
Long before she was ready for him to, Tom signaled the team to a halt in front of a canopy cover that stretched to the curb from the doorway of Bow Tie Pasta. While the horses snorted and tossed their heads, she reluctantly straightened. The time had come to put a stop to whatever was happening between her and Jason before one—or both—of them got hurt. She’d indulged herself for as long as she could. She had to say “enough.”
Her lips parted, the words on the tip of her tongue. Before she could speak, however, Tom dismounted and held the door to the carriage open.
“Text me when you’re finished, and I’ll come back to pick you up,” he told Jason. Tom doffed his tall hat. He extended a hand and helped Tara disembark. “Ma’am. I hope you enjoyed the ride.”
“Very much,” she said. Feeling the loss of Jason’s arm around her and knowing that she needed to tell him it could never happen again, she added a silent “too much.”
But holding what was sure to be an awkward conversation on a public sidewalk didn’t feel right. Besides, she’d hardly had a chance to recover her balance after stepping down from the carriage before, with his hand at her elbow, Jason guided her up the covered walk
way to the entrance of the most popular restaurant in Heart’s Landing. Once inside, she was too entranced by exposed brick walls, cherry-wood trim, and curved windows overlooking lush plantings to broach the subject that should’ve been first on her mind.
Within minutes, the maitre d’ ushered them to a center table. A veritable phalanx of waitstaff stood at attention nearby. They sprang into action the moment she took her seat, and soon she found herself paging through a menu the size of a novel while a tuxedoed waiter reviewed the day’s specials. Next, the sommelier stepped forward with his recommendations, followed by the ritual tasting and approval of their selection. Shortly after the wine steward poured their first glasses of an outstanding pinot, another waiter appeared bearing a basket of bread and rolls, along with a trio of flavorful dipping oils.
If she thought she’d have a moment for a quiet discussion with Jason once they’d placed their orders, she was proven wrong again. Word that they’d be dining at Bow Tie Pasta must have spread. Either that or practically every business owner in Heart’s Landing had developed a sudden urge for Italian food. In groups of two or three, they stopped by her table to chat. Between interruptions and bites of excellent pasta, the lunch hour sped by. Almost before she knew it, Jason had texted Tom and arranged their return trip to Your Ride Awaits.
But she couldn’t get in the carriage again. Not and keep her wits about her. She was too weak, her attraction to Jason too strong. Once she climbed the steps into the buggy, she knew, she just knew, she’d cuddle against him again. And that wouldn’t be fair. She wouldn’t, she couldn’t mislead him like that. It was time to pull the plug. She had one final chance to clear the air between them before it was too late. A few words were all it would take to destroy any misconceptions either of them might harbor. She just had to say them.
Except, she couldn’t. She couldn’t end things between them. Not now. Not yet.
On the sidewalk outside the restaurant, she took the coward’s way out. “I think I’d like to stretch my legs a bit,” she said, putting several steps between them before her new resolve weakened.
“You don’t want to wait for Tom?” Confusion and something that looked an awful lot like disappointment clouded Jason’s features.
“No. If you don’t mind, I’ll walk back.” She needed time away from the man who made her pulse race. Needed to gather her thoughts and figure out what to do next. “I’ll probably work in my room for a while. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“About that.” Jason stuck his hands in his pockets. “If we get an early start, we can check out the widow’s walk first thing in the morning. After that, though, the weatherman says we’re going to have quite a bit of rain. Tomorrow might be a good day to work indoors. I was thinking I could help you in the library. If you still want my help, that is.”
Great. Jason had given her exactly what she didn’t want—a chance to back away gracefully. She should take it, should tell him she was fine, thank you very much, but she’d prefer to finish her evaluation of Heart’s Landing without him at her side. Only, there were problems. Seeing the widow’s walk firsthand was a must if she was going to complete her assignment. As was ferreting out the truth behind the myth of Captain Thaddeus. And who better to help her than the man who’d spent his childhood reading the ship’s logs and journals? Yet, as much as her head told her that enlisting Jason’s help was the smart career move, her heart warned that spending more time with him wasn’t the wisest choice.
“I’d love to have your help,” she answered, throwing caution to the wind and taking her chances.
Chapter Twelve
Jason grabbed the key ring from the post just inside his office. A thrill of anticipation raced through him. In just a few minutes, he’d meet Tara in the lobby. He’d planned to keep his distance from her, but yesterday’s events had changed things, hadn’t they?
What he’d intended as a sightseeing trip for one had turned into much more than that when she’d insisted on having him join her in the carriage. The moment he sat beside her, he’d felt her pulse race, heard the sharp intake of her breath. Her shivers had given him the perfect excuse to wrap his arm around her. Not that he’d needed one. Or had done anything wrong by pulling her close when the breeze had raised goose bumps on her arms. He’d wanted nothing more than to do it again on the return trip and see where their attraction led them.
Common sense told him that acting on his growing feelings for Tara was the worst thing he could do. Not only did she hold the fate of Heart’s Landing in her hands, but in a matter of days, she’d return to New York. He had no business even thinking of getting involved with yet another woman who put a different zip code in her return address.
But, no matter how he fought it, he couldn’t deny that he was attracted to her. She drew him to her like no woman he’d ever known before. And, on the off chance that she felt the same way, didn’t they deserve to give things between them a chance?
The question had plagued him all night. Rather than sleeping, he’d remained on edge, unable to get her out of his mind. Somewhere around four this morning, he’d finally come to the realization that he had to face the truth. Despite his efforts to the contrary, he was falling for Tara. And that was a bad thing, a very bad thing. By doing so, he was putting his heart in jeopardy. Worse still, he’d be putting the fate of Heart’s Landing on the line. Neither was a risk he could afford.
There was only one course of action open to him. He’d have to be stronger. Have to bury his feelings for her. Have to hide them so deep, they’d never trouble him again. His course set, he squared his shoulders and slipped the key ring into his pocket. It’d be better if he could avoid her altogether, but he’d promised to escort her during her stay. He couldn’t break his promise. Not with all of Heart’s Landing counting on him. But today, while he and Tara visited the widow’s walk and later, when they worked in the library, “cool” and “detached” would be his watch words. No matter what.
Minutes later, he cleared his throat in the lobby and stared over Tara’s head. One look at her eager face had nearly been his undoing, but he was stronger than that. He wouldn’t give in to temptation.
“I checked the weather,” he announced. “The skies should remain clear for the next hour or so. That’ll give us plenty of time before the rain starts.”
Tara lifted the camera she carried like other women carried purses. “Lead on,” she said with the grin that warmed his heart despite his best efforts to remain aloof and distant.
Side by side, they headed for the stairs. Once in the attic, he wasted no time cutting through the storage area and opening the door to the widow’s walk. There, safety overtook chivalry and he stepped onto the deck first, using his shoulders to block the door while he gave the exposed roof a quick study.
No water pooled on the slate tiles. He’d personally checked the railing around the widow’s walk before he’d retired last night. It appeared as sturdy today as it had then. A bank of low clouds hugged the horizon, but only a few white wisps dotted the blue sky overhead. Satisfied that all was as it should be, he stepped aside and let Tara pass.
His chest clenched at her soft gasp. Had she tripped? He reached to steady her, only to have her slip beyond his grasp.
“Well, I’ll be…” She stared at square tiles closest to the railing. Cracked and broken, they outlined the circular track Mary had followed while she’d watched for Captain Thaddeus’s ship from the widow’s walk. “When people said she’d worn a path in the slate, I expected scratches and scrapes, at most a faint indentation. Not this.”
Dredging up what he knew about the tiles, Jason chuckled. “Slate is one of the toughest, most durable materials known to man. It’s practically impervious to wind and rain. But for all that, it’s surprisingly fragile. Especially when struck repeatedly by hard-soled shoes, like the ones Mary wore.”
Tara lifted her camera. “I owe you an apology,” she murmured as s
he snapped pictures of the broken pieces.
“How so?” She’d done nothing wrong. Quite the contrary. After his last girlfriend, Tara’s honesty and forthrightness was a refreshing change of pace.
“To tell the truth, I never bought into the story that Mary stood watch for her husband’s ship. Not until now.” She pointed toward the circle of broken tiles. “If I hadn’t seen this with my own eyes, I’m not sure I’d have believed it. It’s hard to argue when the evidence is right in front of you.” She toed a loose shard. It fell back into place with a soft chinking sound. “Why didn’t anyone ever replace them?”
Jason shrugged. Of all his ancestors, only Thaddeus had made his living on the sea. Once he’d retired, the widow’s walk had fallen into disuse. Decades had come and gone while the isolated spot remained undisturbed. “My dad would tell you that they’re part of the history of the house. They give it its character. While that’s true, there’s another, more practical reason.”
“What’s that?”
A gust of wind whipped a strand of hair onto his face. He tucked it behind his ear. “We can’t get our hands on the same color slate. The tiles you’re standing on came from a quarry north of Philly. They were hand-shaped before being shipped here in horse-drawn carts over a hundred years ago. That mine has long since played out and closed.”
“Which explains all these broken pieces.”
“For now. As durable as slate is, it doesn’t last forever.” He gestured toward the pitched roof behind them. Here and there, empty squares dotted the surface. In other spots, whole sections had been smashed. “I’ve started getting bids for a new roof. It’s a horrifically expensive undertaking.” One he wouldn’t be able to afford if Heart’s Landing lost its title as America’s Top Wedding Destination.
“Watch your step,” he cautioned as Tara moved to the railing overlooking the ocean. Though the slate looked dry, appearances could be deceiving.