“Spas. Facials. Manicures.” She hid her hands, probably remembering what she’d done to her nails. “Bah.”
“See you later.”
She didn’t answer, but she did walk him to the door, and he thought her step and her posture looked a little brighter. A little stronger. And that was a great beginning.
* * *
Claire Dennehy drew deliberate attention as she hobbled through Heather’s door midmorning. Her exaggerated huffing added sound to the visual drama.
Heather hurried over and took her arm. Her action shamed Meredith, because no matter what Claire had done, who she’d hurt, she was still an aged woman in need of assistance. God would expect her to bury the hatchet and offer a hand, the whole seventy-times-seven thing. About that? She was a work in progress. Slow progress, besides. Therefore she needed to try harder. “Claire, good morning. That wind is brisk today, isn’t it?”
“We need the wind to dry up all that rain,” the older woman barked.
Heather paused.
The customer in Heather’s chair froze in place, a hand raised midair.
Resolute, Meredith smiled and nodded as she applied curl refiner to her grandmother’s hair, both moves well-practiced. “It should help.”
“Will help, you mean.” Claire advanced two steps, close enough for Meredith to feel the temperature rise around her. Obviously the expression “steaming mad” had some basis in fact. “And I don’t appreciate people yelling at my friends, young lady. Being disrespectful to your elders is what leads to trouble, and I’d have thought you had enough trouble with folks to last a lifetime when you were here before, but I guess I was wrong.”
“Claire.” Heather tried to intervene, but Meredith raised a calming hand in her direction.
“Let her have her say.”
“And I will, too.” Claire thumped her cane against the floor. “Evelyn Calhoun is a good woman who’s done nothing but work hard all her life. She doesn’t deserve to be dressed down by someone who comes back from the city all fancied up. And while we’re at it, what brought you back, Meredith Brennan? Because we know you hated these towns, the people, bein’ home. So.”
She peered closer and Meredith saw the tiny look of triumph in the sour old woman’s eyes, as if cornering prey made her feel good. How sad.
“Why did you come back?” Claire drawled the words as if interrogating her.
Meredith could have returned the shots with ease. She might have argued her point and won. She could have parried the elderly woman’s thrusts and dodged her blows, but what fun was there in that? She leaned in, spiked a grin and said, “To nab Cam Calhoun and those precious girls. Why else?”
Heather choked. Her customer snorted, laughing.
Claire rounded her shoulders, and Meredith went back to styling her grandmother’s hair, but Helen Walker wasn’t about to stand down.
Uh-oh.
Helen didn’t let the raised adjustable chair stop her. With a single bound she popped out of the seat. Her posture and the sharp intelligence in her bright brown eyes exemplified her CEO-like presence. “Who do you think you are, Claire Dennehy?”
“I…um…”
“You didn’t notice me sitting in the chair, did you? You thought it was okay to walk in here and go off on my granddaughter because of something that happened fourteen years ago.”
“Helen, I—”
“Don’t try to explain. Don’t try to make this right. Don’t try to make excuses when you’ve done nothing but give this girl grief since puberty.”
Meredith wanted to break up the face-off, but she didn’t dare. When Grandma got on a roll, the best option was to get out of the way. And that’s exactly what Meredith did. Besides, it was kind of fun to see Grandma stand up for her. Watch Claire back down. Fun in a very naughty way, of course.
But still fun.
“My granddaughter is a beautiful, accomplished young woman. She was drummed out of town by senseless gossip back then, and there is no way I’m letting that same thing happen again,” Helen stormed. “She is bringing her art and expertise to an area that really needs it. She’s got a great partner.” Grandma noted Heather with her gaze. “She also has financial backing and an opportunity for more jobs in the area. And if Cam Calhoun has any good sense about him, he’ll drop down on bended knee and propose before any one of half a dozen fine men win her hand because that’s—” Meredith nearly choked on that, but held her own as Grandma leaned closer to Claire “—how…” Helen drew closer yet, her art of intimidation showcasing CEO to the max. “Amazing she is. And now an apology would be in order, and quickly, too. I have a meeting at ten and you’ve messed up my blow-dry.”
“Grandma, I—”
Helen shot her an arch look that said “hush.”
Claire turned, haughty, but slightly penitent. “I apologize if I was out of line.”
“If?” Helen’s face said there was no question.
Claire frowned, glowered, then sighed. “I was out of line. When I heard how she sassed Evelyn Calhoun at the Easter egg hunt, I went a little crazy. Evelyn is my friend.”
“Regardless.” Helen faced her firm. “Too much talk and scuttlebutt has gone on at my family’s expense. Yes, my son-in-law was a criminal. A womanizer. A drinker and addict, besides. That’s common knowledge. But why anyone would think it’s okay to target people who are already emotionally hurting, is beyond me. It stops now.”
Claire’s strong features faltered. She inhaled, glanced around, then lowered her chin. “You’re right, Helen. On all counts. I get defensive over Evelyn, her being alone and all.”
“Her choice.” Helen’s tone said she’d cut the old women no slack.
Claire didn’t disagree. She turned toward Meredith and stuck her hand out. “I do apologize. I didn’t used to be so hard and harsh.”
Meredith couldn’t agree with that, but maybe the woman was thinking back more decades than Meredith could recall. “Thank you, Claire. And what I said about Cam?”
Claire nodded and shrugged, embarrassed. “You were kidding. I know.”
Meredith lowered her chair for Helen to resume her seat and sent Claire a quick, knowing grin as her grandmother resettled. “Maybe not.”
Helen looked up and winked in approval.
* * *
Cam’s heavy footfall announced his arrival at the spa that evening. “You’ve got designs on me, I hear.”
“You heard that already?” Meredith glanced up at him from her spot on the floor in the upstairs hall and made a face. “Impressive.”
She sat back, scrutinized the sponge effect, waggled her head to show indecision, then stood. “I said that to quiet down a bothersome old bird. And then my grandmother jumped in and went to bat for me. Word of warning—don’t make my grandmother mad.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He studied the splotched wall. “I liked it better plain.”
“I agree.” She met his gaze, then pursed her lips. “Which means I just wasted two hours.”
“Experiential learning.” He came forward, hooked his thumbs in his pockets, and shoulder-bumped her. “Common practice in my trade.”
“I thought you employed the measure-twice, cut-once theory.”
“Doesn’t work in all applications. Like this.” He smiled toward the messed-up wall. “Sometimes you just gotta get in there, try it and see.”
“No biggie, in any case.” She recapped the dusky tan paint cap and tossed the sponge into the oversize utility garbage bag. “Nothing another shot with the roller won’t cure.”
“Exactly. So.” He moved closer and hooked a thumb beneath her chin to hold her gaze. “Did you mean it?”
“No. Of course not.” She tried to step away but he slipped the other arm around her waist, holding her in place, and the feel of his arm, the l
ook in his eyes, the slight curve of his mouth…
Suddenly she didn’t want to get away at all.
“Truth.” His thumb stroked the soft underside of her chin. A lazy smile tugged his mouth. “You got your cap set for me, Miss Brennan?”
She’d love to be able to set her cap for him. She’d figured that out when she first laid eyes on him, all studious and stern. Rugged and strong. With his cute, rimless glasses. And she’d toss in her shoes, purse and any other accessory she could find, but he didn’t know her past.
She did. She smiled lightly and touched his nose with her index finger. “I do not. But if you’re available, I’ll put the word out.”
“You sure?” He drew her closer, his words tempting her heart while his breath tickled her skin. His lips followed the whispered words and he nuzzled the softness of her cheek with the gentlest of kisses. “Because I might just like it if you did.”
“But—”
The kiss swallowed her protest. Cam gathered her in, and his mouth, his lips staked a claim she didn’t dare allow.
But her heart beat faster. And the muscles she worked so hard to keep toned went soft. Breathing became nonessential, because the only thing she needed right then and there was to kiss him back, like it was the most natural thing in the world to be in Cam’s arms again. Kissing him. Thinking of him. Dreaming about him.
“Cam.”
“Shush.”
He kissed her again, and in Cam’s head everything that had been wrong with his world seemed right again. The feel of Meredith in his arms, the scent of her skin, coffee, paint and spiced vanilla, the sight of her working on this old place he loved, day after day, in speckled sweats and bandannas.
She was the same, but different. Still bold and beautiful, but unafraid to get down and dirty as the job required. He loved that about her.
He loved her.
He paused the kiss, reality pushing him back. He couldn’t love Meredith.
But he did.
Caution warred with desire. He had the girls to consider.
They were already smitten with her.
She’d run before. She might run again. And then where would he be with two brokenhearted kids? He stepped back, determined to take this slow. One look at her upturned face, those long, dark eyelashes, a gorgeous mouth just meant for kissing…
Time to put the brakes on. Past time, actually. Except he didn’t want to, but that might be old-fashioned lust and loneliness. He hadn’t dated since he lost Kristy. And didn’t Meredith deserve someone who would look out for her? Care for her? He’d messed up before, caught up in work, much like he was now. Even after five years of single parenthood, he wasn’t sure he had what it took to be the kind of man and husband a woman needed and deserved.
“Cam.” She raised a hand to his face, and her expression reflected his gut. “I can’t do this.”
“I know.” He nodded, agreeable. “Me, either. So why do you suppose it keeps happening?” He tightened his grip at her waist and refused to fight the smile she inspired by looking so staunch and serious.
“Because we’re lonely and we’re caught together on a work project.”
“In a romantic old house that I’ve loved for years.”
“And we’ve got a history,” she went on.
“That ended badly,” he agreed.
“So, naturally, we wonder.” She glanced at his mouth, then away, guilty.
“And think…” He assumed a more serious expression. “Maybe dream.”
“You dream of me, Cam?” Her voice went whisper soft, as if those two little words meant the world to her. Did he dare admit it? One look at her longing gaze said yes.
“Constantly. It’s quite annoying, actually. And then there’s this.” He laid one quick, sweet kiss to her mouth before he stepped back. “Which I thoroughly enjoy, by the way, but we both keep backtracking and frankly, Mere, I can’t afford to mess up. Not the job, not the life.” He waved his hand from her back to him. “We’re working together. And that’s nice. And yeah, I’d like it to be more, but I can’t make mistakes. Take chances. I needed this job to pay for Sophie’s braces. And I need the next job to get through summer. And then I teach to pay the bills, because raising kids is no walk in the park. And if I fall in love with you and it doesn’t work out, then I’ve messed up two little girls who mean the world to me, and I can’t do that. Correction.” He splayed his hands. “I can’t live with myself if I do that. So I don’t mess around. I don’t date. I don’t take chances that might break my girls’ hearts. Because they mean everything to me.”
Meredith’s head nodded agreement, but her eyes…
Oh, those eyes…
They held shadows. Sorrow. Guilt. Cam had no trouble reading the emotions because they reflected his feelings too well, and that made him wonder why she’d feel that way.
Fourteen years. A lot could happen to a person in fourteen years. He knew that. He’d lived it.
“Let’s take it slow.” He bent closer, wishing he didn’t have to apply the brakes at all.
“Or stop,” Meredith suggested. She met his gaze quietly. “That’s probably the better option, Cam.”
He grinned and turned for the stairs. “Not when I like kissing you so much, Mere. But I can’t kiss you if I’m on the first floor and you’re up here repainting that horrible excuse for a wall.”
“Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” He turned and blinked, long and slow. “I’ll be around.”
Her tentative smile made him long to stay. But two promising athletes needed him to be strong. Careful. Cautious. Even when that was the last thing he wanted to be.
Hormones aside, those girls were worth every bit of caution life entailed. He’d let them down once, big-time. He’d never do it again.
Chapter Thirteen
Good Friday, thought Cam as he went to stow his laptop in the carry case. That meant Easter was two days away. And he’d done nothing to prepare for the day. No candy for a basket. No pretty new clothes for the girls. No fancy bonnets. No thought of gathering in a church, surrounded by other well-dressed kids.
Who needed all that stuff, anyway?
He scowled at the internet reminder, hollered for the girls one more time, then glared at the clock. He could run by the candy shop later, but experience told him every other last-minute shopper would crowd Grandma Mary’s candies late in the day because the candy store closed from noon to three on Good Friday.
In an old-fashioned town, old ideas clung tight.
With school off for the day, he’d scheduled an efficient time frame for the spa’s built-in cabinets. And he knew Meredith was working at Heather’s today and tomorrow. Heather’s business had boomed since Meredith came on board, and with Easter upon them, everyone in town would look good.
Except the Calhoun girls.
He’d messed up again, he knew it, but how could he fix things and keep his commitments for the morning? He’d promised Meredith he’d work at the spa while the plumbing crew continued their progress on the main-floor restrooms and the upstairs spa shower room. She’d hoped his presence would inspire added care on their part. And the furnace guy was supposed to meet him at eleven, so that left no wiggle room to get over to the candy store.
And the girls would be with him all day tomorrow, messing up any chance of surprise.
Rachel pounded down the stairs, ready for a day at the Grishams’ house. Sophie followed in her more sedate fashion, a clutch of books in one hand, her bag slung over the other shoulder. “Better check her stuff,” she announced as she reached the first floor, jerking her head Rachel’s way. “She was on the computer while we were supposed to be getting ready.”
“Without my permission?” Cam frowned and bent low. “You know that’s not allowed, right?”
Ra
chel bit her lip, sent Sophie an “I’ll getcha later” look, and shrugged. “Yes.”
“So why did you do it?”
She raised her shoulders again and thrust out her bottom lip. “I don’t know.”
“Rachel, I have to be able to trust you, even when I can’t see you. Especially when I can’t see you.” Cam paused. He hated what he was about to say, but said it anyway, seeing no choice. “No TV today. Or treats. You can’t keep ignoring the rules and doing things your way. You’re the kid. I’m the grown-up. That puts me in charge. Like it or not.”
She didn’t like it one little bit, that was plain to see, but to her credit she didn’t cry or come undone. Neither did she scream, shout or berate him. She took the punishment like a true soldier, and that almost made him second-guess his edict, but one of them had to be tough. Strong. Set rules for safety and decorum.
“Did you both put your breakfast dishes in the sink?”
Sophie nodded.
Rachel gulped.
“Go. Do it.” Cam pointed toward the back door. “Then hop in the car, get belted and I’ll drop you off down the road.”
“Okay.” Rachel walked stoop-shouldered and guilt-riddled, her shuffling step pleading for mercy.
Not gonna happen. Kids needed to follow directions. Behave. Be respectful.
A niggle of guilt made him wonder why she’d hopped on the upstairs computer. Rachel wasn’t inclined toward computer games; she could care less about kids’ clubs on the web, and she’d never requested one of those hand-held systems. So why would she break the rules and use his desktop?
He almost went up to check, but the clock nagged him out the door. He couldn’t afford to waste any of a precious day off when he hoped to turn the corner of accomplishment at the spa.
* * *
Meredith had put in a whirlwind morning at Heather’s, and a glance at the time said there wasn’t time to go home and change before the Good Friday afternoon service. A cold front ushered in a driving April storm. The rain beat down, relentless, the leaden sky and naked trees enough to make her wonder if spring would ever truly come. She hit Cam’s number and jumped in when he answered, no preliminaries. “Hey, it’s me, I was wondering if you’d like me to pick the girls up and take them to church with me.”
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