A Family to Cherish

by Ruth Logan Herne

  He tapped her head lightly. “Manners.”

  She made a face but nodded, closed her mouth and chewed semi-politely.

  “A woodshed is where you keep firewood.” Meredith sent a point-blank look Cam’s way, challenging him. “And that’s all it is.”

  “We stack it by the barn,” Sophie replied, matter-of-fact. “But Dad never takes us there. We just go over there by ourselves.”

  Meredith met Cam’s look across the table and something in the soft gaze of approval set his shoulders straighter. His chest firmer. “Your father loves you girls. But of course he wants you to behave.”

  “We know.” Rachel finished her pizza, sighed, sat back and looked like she was about to fall asleep sitting right there, kitten-style. Cam was feeling mighty comfortable himself. Reason enough to stand up and get moving. Only, he didn’t want to. Not really.

  The grandfather clock in the front room chimed nine o’clock. Long past time for the girls to be home and tucked in. He stood, shrugged into his jacket and jerked his head left. “Girls. Let’s move. Time for bed.”

  Rachel started to whine, but Meredith put a light hand to her shoulder. When the little girl turned, Meredith gave a gentle shake of her head. “Daddy gave you extra time already, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Meredith smiled, not needing words to make her point. And then Rachel reached up to her, wanting the beautiful, stylish woman to hold her. And when Meredith drew the seven-year-old into her arms as if made for the job, Cam knew he was in deep, deep trouble.

  Chapter Seven

  She needed to stay away from Cameron Calhoun, and that’s all there was to it.

  Meredith swept mauve paint across a wide, carved porch-rail molding, then slowed her hand as she skated the wooden edge, wishing the detail work would distract her.

  It didn’t.

  No, thoughts of Cam mentally replayed like an online video ad. The angle of his head. His thoughtful gaze. His art of self-examination, schooling himself in goodness. His hands, how they cradled wood and tile with a reverence she longed for, but she’d messed up on reverence a long time ago.

  Her cell phone interrupted her roller-coaster thoughts. “Good morning.”

  “Mere, it’s Mom.”

  Meredith grinned. Her mother was still getting used to caller ID, even though she had it on her cell phone. “I kinda figured that when your name and number came up in my screen.”

  “Of course.” Dana Brennan’s tone made light fun of herself. “Old habits die hard. Hey, listen, family dinner tomorrow night. Including Grandma.”

  “Ooh. Must be big news. Bet I can guess what it is,” Meredith teased, laughing. “Between Hannah and Callie, the family’s looking mighty green these days.”

  Dana laughed with her. “I know. These poor girls, God love ’em, it’s a rough bunch of weeks, but what a joyous thing to celebrate. Babies. At last. After all this time. Are you free to be here?”

  She and Heather were doing an Irish dance workout tonight and then she was working at Heather’s salon tomorrow. “Wouldn’t miss it. Do you need help with anything?”

  “Did you suddenly become domestic?”

  Meredith’s smile broadened. “I can wash green beans. Or peas. Or something.”

  “You set up your business with that cute carpenter of yours and I’ll cook, okay? Nothing wrong with focusing our time on our talents, darling, and yours isn’t exactly in the kitchen.”

  So true. But… “He’s not my carpenter, Mom. He’s working for me.”

  “Uh, huh.” Dana sounded unconvinced, which only meant she knew her daughter well. “Six o’clock good?”

  “Perfect, Mom. Hey, can I bring a guest? No, wait—two guests?”

  “Bring whoever you want,” Dana told her firmly. “I’ll make enough for an army and we’ll toast these babies’ futures.”

  “Excellent.”

  Meredith set the phone aside and fought the threatening surge of melancholy. She loved babies. She loved Callie and Hannah, her sisters-in-law. Of course she was happy for them. Ecstatic, even.

  One fat tear dripped down her chin.

  She wiped it away, frustrated by a stupid wave of thirtysomething emotions.

  She’d messed up, big time. She knew it, but few others did. If she’d been more careful, more faithful, more selective, she wouldn’t have wasted over two years on Chas.

  The thought bit deep, but she deserved the pain. She’d lived a life of carefree modern nonchalance until it came back to bite her, so she deserved the sting of reality. She’d given a key to her apartment to a married man. She’d given her heart and forgotten about her soul. She’d dallied with a lifestyle that seemed very contemporary and chic until she realized there was no tomorrow.

  Yes, she’d been duped, but only because she allowed herself to be fooled. And the thought of his children, his wife…what the knowledge of their affair would do to them.

  She’d lived that embarrassment as a child. No way could she do that to anyone else’s children. And yet she’d put herself in a position to do just that.

  Shame knifed her.

  The phone rang again. Cam’s number flashed in the small gray rectangle. Cam, who always chose the side of goodness and virtue. Cam, whose work showed dedication and devotion. Cam, whose daughters were lovely young ladies.

  She stared at the ringing phone, then deliberately walked the other way. He’d leave her a message. That would be easier for her than hearing his voice, reading his pauses, wondering at his expression. She’d managed to taint her life, she knew that. She’d dealt with it and moved on.

  But no way in this world was she about to stain his.

  * * *

  The steady thump-thump-thump drew Cam’s attention that evening, but it was the reeling Celt pipes that pulled him up the broad staircase, curious. The sight of Meredith practicing some kind of jig or reel in the turret room stopped him cold.

  Wild beauty surrounded her. Her hair had come free and followed her moves in waved abandon, her feet flying, arms still, chin raised, and her smile…

  Oh, that smile.

  She flashed it at Heather as they made a diagonal pass in opposite directions, a move he remembered like it was yesterday, not fourteen years ago. They’d danced en troupe and individually, she and Heather, and sometimes as a pair despite their physical differences, always vying for the number-one dance position while maintaining a strong friendship.

  Until Meredith wiped the sleepy dust of Allegany County off her toe shoes and moved on without a backward glance.

  Heather spotted him first. She gave a quick nod, missed a step, scowled and regrouped at the designated turn spot.

  They spun, not quite in unison, but still pretty impressively for women who hadn’t danced together in over a decade, then finished the dance perfectly, facing the curved bay of windows, each step timed to the music. When the fiddle sped up, then came to a quick halt, they stopped, feet in position, hands flat at their sides, smiles wide. As if they’d been doing it every day of their lives, only they hadn’t.

  An audience of one, Cam couldn’t help himself. He clapped. He whistled, too, amazed how they felt the music and remembered the dance, the steps, the patterns, the moves.

  Heather flashed him a grin of thanks.

  Meredith looked like she’d just been blindsided, which she had. She hadn’t seen him in the doorway; her part had kept her facing the opposite direction. His presence surprised her, and yet it shouldn’t. He was working here.

  “I’m grabbing a water,” Heather announced. She slung a small towel around her neck and caught Meredith’s eye. “Want one?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  Heather offered Cam an “uh-oh” look as she went by, but Cam kept his face calm as he faced Meredith’s frown.


  “Why are you here?”

  “I…work here.” He elongated the words, drawing them out, making fun of her lightly.

  “But you weren’t going to be here tonight. You said so.”

  “I left my laptop last night because I was late with the girls. So tonight I dropped them off home and ran over here to get it.”

  “They’re alone?”

  He nodded. “For ten minutes. Well.” He glanced at his rugged watch. “Fifteen. But that’s a good way for them to learn and earn independence. Fifteen minutes on their own to prove that they’re trustworthy.”

  “That’s dangerous.”

  He shrugged. “Life comes with risk, and the girls know their routine. I’m trusting them to do it. They’re not babies, they’re seven and nine and what happens if they come home someday and the house is empty? Learning how to behave on their own is a good step.”

  “But it’s night. And dark.”

  “And the house is locked. And there are no bogeymen, Mere.”

  Her expression said he was wrong about that, but he didn’t have time to bore further. “Gotta go. I just heard the thumping and thought you might be jackhammering walls. Or something.”

  She made a face and didn’t meet his gaze. “To Irish music? Really?”

  He shrugged. “I tune in the country station when I’m working. I like it. Makes me think more clearly.”

  “As you can see, the walls are intact.”

  He nodded and tried not to smile, but failed. “And you still dance like a wild, Irish gypsy.”

  Her cheeks softened. Her eyes brightened, just for a moment; then the look dulled. Faded. “Irish gypsy, huh?” She turned slightly, her profile taut. “That might explain a few things.”

  She stood stock-still, staring at the window beyond him.

  Why?

  He had no clue.

  “You’ve got to leave.”

  He nodded, turned and headed for the stairs. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  “No.”

  He turned back, surprised. “Okay.”

  “My mother’s having the crew over for supper. With Grandma. I have to be there.”

  “It sounds nice, Mere. And the girls have soccer practice until eight-thirty so I’ll work here and then cut loose at eight and pick them up at the middle school.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.”

  He needed to get home. He’d left the girls on their own recognizance, and he knew they’d be fine, but his fifteen minutes was stretching to twenty. He headed down the stairs at a quick clip, then resisted the urge to see if she followed his progress with her eyes. Nope. It seemed as if his presence irritated her. Disturbed her. Just as well, really, because she was bothering the heck out of him.

  * * *

  She’d left the cookie basket in the just-delivered spa refrigerator. Growling at herself for being obtuse, Meredith shoved the car into gear the next evening, headed north on Route 19 and turned back into the curving drive of the Senator’s Mansion wishing she’d paid closer attention to the clock.

  She hadn’t, and now she had to grab the cookie arrangement she’d picked up at the Colonial Cookie Kitchen and get to her mother’s place on the south side of Wellsville without ruining dinner. She grabbed her cell, then paused her finger over the number three, her mother’s speed dial.

  Two cars sat in the parking area adjacent to the future spa. Cam’s and some sportin’ hot red ragtop, spit-shined to reflect the late rays of the sun.

  Who was here? With Cam?

  Not your business.

  She dialed her mother’s number, then headed for the back door of the spa that led straight into the kitchen. No reason to disturb Cam’s work or get herself all in a dither over what could have been and wouldn’t be.

  Been there. Done that. Not pretty.

  She let herself into the kitchen just as Cam and a drop-dead-gorgeous natural blonde entered from the formal dining room slated to become the hair salon. With one touch of a button she disconnected from her mother. Some things a mother didn’t need to hear.

  “Mere.”

  “Cam.” Meredith turned cool eyes to his right. Blonde. Beautiful. Young. Carefree.

  Meredith decided she hated the petite woman on principle.

  Cam jutted his chin toward the wall clock. “You’re supposed to be at your mother’s.”

  “On my way. I forgot these.” She swung open the door to the refrigerator and pulled out a cookie arrangement slightly lighter than when she’d left that morning. “We’ve got mice.”

  Cam grinned, having no idea how close he was to possible annihilation if the blonde got any closer to his side. Or if she smiled any wider. Or…

  Get a grip, Mere. He’s not yours, she can’t help her natural attributes, and you’re not even supposed to be here. Let it go.

  “The girls were here. And I tried calling you—”

  She’d ignored his call an hour ago, knowing he’d leave a voice mail.

  “And they were hungry so we nipped a few.” He stepped forward, making the blonde appear more slim and petite than she already did.

  Just another reason to dislike her.

  Meow.

  “I hope it’s all right.” Cam’s gaze searched her face, wondering what was going on, why she’d be upset over a few cookies for the girls. And of course she wasn’t upset about that, not a smidge.

  The blonde, on the other hand?

  Another matter entirely.

  Cam stepped back as if suddenly realizing she was there. “Haley Jennings, meet Meredith Brennan. Meredith’s the owner and developer of Stillwaters.”

  Meredith set the cookies on the table and extended a hand, claws retracted. For the moment. “Haley.”

  Haley grasped her hand like a long-lost friend, and that only made her seem nice and normal and more difficult to abhor, but if Meredith worked real hard, she’d find a way.

  “This is beautiful,” Haley announced. She swept the house a wave. “Great work, a marvelous eye for detail and balance, and what a clever and comforting idea, to use such a gracious piece of architecture for a wellness spa. I hope to be a regular customer, Meredith.”

  Meredith choked down a sigh. It was hard to stoke fires of animosity when the target spewed multiple complimentary things about your business venture. “Thank you, Haley. It’s nice that Cam brought you by to see things.”

  Haley looked startled, then shook her head. “I kind of steamrolled him, actually. Left him little recourse.”

  Meredith arched a pseudo-sympathetic left brow in Cam’s direction. “Poor baby.”

  Cam’s smile almost got him kicked in the shins, but Haley saved him the pain.

  “I’m converting the old furniture factory and showroom into a country-style street of shops called Bennington Station.”

  It took a moment for Meredith to follow this new train of thought. “The one at the interstate exit?”

  “Yes, that’s it.” Haley waved a rolled-up sheaf of papers. “I’m having the preliminary work done by C and M Construction.”

  “My brother,” Meredith cut in.

  “Really?” Haley’s smile broadened. “What an industrious family. Well, Matt and Hank are doing the rough-in construction for me, but there are parts that need to be finessed.”

  “And I’ve been told by many that Cam’s the reigning king of finesse in Allegany County.” Meredith rolled him a look that he shrugged off.

  “The timing’s good.” Cam indicated Haley’s tube of plans with a jut of his chin. “By the time the standard carpentry and utilities are in, I’ll be done here and school will be out. That gives me nine weeks to take care of Miss Jennings’ job.”

  “You’re doing this yourself?” Meredith eyed the more petite wo
man and tried to erase her tone of doubt.

  Haley squared her shoulders. Her chin came up, very Reese Witherspoon, and while Meredith loved the actress’s spunky style, she wasn’t gung ho on having a prototype hanging on Cam’s every move, every word.

  “I am. My great-grandfather was Wilt Bennington, the man who started the Northern Appalachian Furniture Factory. And it was open for nearly sixty years, so definitely a credit to his success. And then Grandpa had it, but by the time it came to his son-in-law, my father, the local economy had taken a direct hit. My father did not have a head for business. I think running a factory and furniture showroom ranked about dead last on his list of things to do, so it kind of died of benign neglect.”

  Her words sparked a memory for Meredith. The old furniture factory hadn’t just shut down. Part of it had been burned. Arson was suspected, but nothing had been proven. But she remembered that Haley’s father had been targeted in the investigation, and Meredith understood the repercussions of guilt by association.

  “Anyway—” Haley stuck out a hand to Cam and shook his firmly “—you’ve got my cell number. If you could come by and give me a ballpark estimate for the fine carpentry work, I’d appreciate it. I own the property and it’s worth a fair amount so I’ve got collateral for the bank’s interest, but I need these last two components on board to square up the loan deal.”

  “I’ll be there Saturday morning at eight,” Cam promised.

  “Thanks.” Haley flashed him a smile that showed perfectly even white teeth and Meredith decided then and there to stop by the pharmacy and pick up teeth-whitening strips. Great hair should always be accompanied by a bright smile.

  Cam swung her way as Haley went through the back door, his gaze appraising and more than a little amused. “You thought she was with me.”

  “Did not.”

  The hinted amusement deepened. “Oh, you did. And it riled you, Mere.”

  “I’m not riled, I’m late. Big difference.” She turned, determined to avoid his gaze, his smile, his teasing. Let him think what he would. She had places to go. Things to do. People to…

  The kiss should have taken her by surprise, but it didn’t. Not even close. It actually seemed like the long-lost welcome home she’d been waiting for. Praying for. Longing for. The feel of Cam’s mouth on hers, the way he wound his arms around her, drawing her in, his embrace solid and comforting. A part of her loosened, the knot of old hurts and past wrongs inside easing in the safety of Cam’s arms.