Ever a Song

by Karen Toller Whittenburg

  Instantly his hand was on her shoulder in a grip that was supposed to soothe, but fell short of its goal. “Now who’s being unfair?” he asked. “It has nothing to do with having faith in you. You asked for my opinion and I gave it. I’m not being judgmental, Autumn, I just know you’ve never been especially happy working here at the store.”

  The weight of his hand was irritating and she shrugged free, preferring a certain amount of careful distance. “Cade, when I was fifteen I couldn’t think of anything except what I might be missing. I’m now twenty-seven and I know I didn’t miss anything all those years ago. Responsibility doesn’t just happen; it’s shaped by experiences. I refuse to apologize to anyone because I had to experience a different type of life before I knew that this is where I belonged.”

  Cade looked past her, circling the corner of the room with his gaze. “I’ve never asked for apologies from you, Autumn. I’d just like to see you take your time before making any decision. Once you think about it awhile, you’ll see that the boutique idea isn’t feasible.”

  The annoyance she’d thought she had under control blistered a slow path to her tongue, but Cade didn’t linger to hear her reaction. Autumn trembled as she watched him walk across the store and into the office. She could never remember being so upset with him. It wasn’t fair for him to patronize her like that, to insinuate a feeling of guilt, no matter how small, because she hadn’t given the idea careful and thorough consideration before mentioning it to him. He had insulted her with the very words he’d meant to be so wise and understanding. Well, it was about time Cade discovered that he was not her mentor, that she hadn’t been asking for his advice, only for his support.

  The boutique was a good idea, regardless of how long ago it had occurred to her. She had the experience to get it off the ground and it was feasible. She was willing to bet her savings account on it, and damn it, Cade wasn’t going to treat her this way. Autumn followed his line of retreat and whipped past the receptionist’s desk without a glance. She pushed on the partially open door of Cade’s private office, stepped inside, and closed the door behind her with a defiant click. “I want to know your objections to the boutique, point by point,” she announced to his back.

  He looked up in surprise, finished taking off his jacket, and hung it on the back of his chair. “I just told you.”

  “No, you based your judgment on the misconception that I wouldn’t stay around long enough to finish the project. Well, I am staying, boutique or not, but I want to know why you think it isn’t feasible.”

  Settling himself behind his desk, he picked up a pencil and waved her into a chair across from him, but she remained standing, stubbornly relying on her own strength of purpose.

  “First of all,” he said evenly if not with a tinge of amusement, “I’m not thrilled with the idea of losing floorspace. I don’t like the chaos that comes with remodeling, and I’m not sure I want to sell swim-suits. On a purely business level, I’d have to see the whole thing in black arid white, from blueprints to projection sheets.”

  “Then I’ll see that you get the whole thing in black and white.”

  Cade smiled as if he were proud of this show of spirit on her part. “Maybe you should also get some figures on renting a place of your own for this boutique. Just as a matter of interest.”

  With cool regard Autumn flatly refused to acknowledge his smile. “You know as well as I do that the overhead costs would be prohibitive. This store is the right place, Cade, and I’ll prove it to you ... on a purely business level. Plus, I don’t have to remind you that I own a quarter interest in this store. And although I’m sure you don’t believe that I’ll stay around to do this, you’ll be surprised. You don’t know me nearly as well as you think you do.” She turned and left his office, ending the discussion with a definitive closing of the door.

  With the slam of the office door Cade winced and the pencil he wasn’t even aware he held snapped. He hadn’t meant to upset her, or maybe he had. He’d certainly intended to discourage her and he’d known with the first words to leave his mouth that he was going about it all wrong.

  He stood and walked to the window. Autumn’s car was parked on the lot outside. A shiny, black Corvette that irritated him with its flashy newness. Since long before she was old enough to drive she’d wanted a car like it, had told him over and over that one day she’d have one. And now she did.

  Somehow as he stared at it, the Corvette took on all the glossy, unreal qualities of the life he imagined she’d enjoyed during the last five years. It was only realistic to believe that she would return to that way of life as surely as she would return at any moment to her car.

  Did he want to believe that? Or did he want to be proven wrong? When she presented him with the facts and figures for the boutique, as he was sure that she would, could he evaluate them objectively? Without considering the effect her presence in the store, day after day, might have on him and his resolve to maintain their old relationship?

  Whichever way the decision went, it would be unfair to one of them. He could still feel the small-ness of her hand tucked trustingly in his, he could still see the eager confidences shining in her eyes. Life was definitely not being fair. With a sigh he turned from the window.

  But during the next hour he rose often from his desk to check on the black Corvette. It was almost closing time before the parking space was vacant and Cade wondered where Autumn had gone after slamming out of his office.

  He discovered the answer when he went to lock up for the night. She had finished rearranging the display. With the changing of a bulb, she had bathed the window in a new, softer lighting. A sailcloth draped in colorful folds down one side covered the entire display area. It held an eye-pleasing array of odds and ends and couldn’t by the wildest stretch of imagination be considered cluttered.

  His mouth tightened against the smile that begged for acceptance but that he had to deny. Autumn had drawn the lines of battle without even knowing what was at stake. She had already set out to prove to him that she wasn’t a child and in the process she would make their relationship an impossibility.

  Oh, Autumn, he thought. I can’t let you do it. He looked at his hand and felt again the warm pressure of her fingertips. It’s too risky ... too damn risky. And I don’t know how to stop you.

  Chapter Four

  A candy-cane-striped awning stretched across a large section of neatly trimmed O’Connor lawn. Beneath the red and white canopy were tables laden with food and drink for the gathering crowd of Eastport residents. Technically the annual Labor Day picnic was for Eastport Marina and Boat Supply employees and their families only, but since almost everyone in town could claim at least a remote kinship to someone who worked there, the picnic had become a community affair. Over the years Autumn had often thought the only thing lacking was a huge banner strung across Eastport’s main thoroughfare proclaiming the celebration to all.

  Sack races, touch football, even a full-scale Boat Supply versus Marina softball game—all were traditions at the annual picnic. Autumn watched, cheered, participated, and felt as if she had never left home, as if she hadn’t missed this event for the past five years. It was only when the activities gave way to serious picnicking that she began to notice the many new faces and the absence of some familiar ones.

  As she sat some distance from the canopied area, Autumn nibbled at the food on her plate and tried to remember names and family connections of the employees in her direct line of vision. She wished she had someone close by to assist her faulty memory, but her own family connections, Ross, Lorna, and their offspring, were busily occupied elsewhere. Autumn had barely seen them since the picnic began, and the only other person who might have helped seemed disinclined to come anywhere near her.

  Her gaze automatically began to search for Cade, finding him with the ease of long practice. He wasn’t so tall that he stood head and shoulders above the crowd, and he wasn’t dressed any differently from a dozen others, yet she had no trouble fin
ding him.

  He was close enough that she could see the look of serious interest on his face as he spoke to Ray Simpson, the maintenance foreman at the marina. Autumn couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she made an educated guess that the two men were talking shop. Cade made a concentrated effort to keep in communication with the employees, and by his own admission he enjoyed the exchange of ideas. It made for a good employer-employee relationship and although Ross made the same effort, Autumn had always credited Cade with setting the example.

  A shining example. That was Cade. Strong, confident, dependable, responsible. She had met many men of varying ages and experience in her years away from Eastport, but not one of them had inspired her respect as Cade did. How had he managed never to reveal a weakness to her? Or had she simply refused to acknowledge that her hero could ever be less than perfect?

  With a sigh Autumn bit into a carrot stick and then set her plate aside. Cade wasn’t perfect. He took himself too seriously at times, and he lost his temper at least once a month. His life was too structured for her taste, and he preferred his coffee very hot and very black. Not a crucially important list of imperfections, she admitted, but at least it proved she wasn’t completely blinded by his good qualities.

  Physically it was hard to find fault with him. Out of direct sunlight his hair was a richly textured brown. His features were even and smoothly defined. His shoulders were broad, his stomach flat, his legs lean and long. Autumn frowned. An extra inch in height wouldn’t hurt his appearance any, but all-in-all, Cade was—

  “Pretty special, isn’t he?”

  Turning toward the sound, she met dusky eyes framed by thick, black lashes that looked oddly familiar. The delicately feminine brunette placed her cup on the table and seated herself next to Autumn before her dark gaze led the way back to Cade. “He’s also the most attractive man here.” The soft voice dwindled to a wistful sigh.

  Infatuation. Autumn recognized the symptoms and, hiding a smile, she duplicated the sigh. “If only he were a little taller.”

  “Oh, no. He definitely needs to be a little shorter.” The wistful note was replaced by an engaging lilt. “That way he wouldn’t be continually knocking down the mistletoe that someone puts over the office door every Christmas.”

  “And who do you think that someone might be? He puts it up every year, then waits for results. But if no one seems to notice ...” Laughter accented the smile Autumn turned to her companion. “You see? If he were a little taller, he could knock it down without stretching at all when he walked under it.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” Warm, amiable attention focused on Autumn. “Since we’re comparing notes on my boss, I probably should introduce myself. I’m Marilynda Meyers.”

  Marilynda? This petite, friendly, and fragile-looking woman? Autumn hastily shuffled her preconceived ideas and tried not to show her surprise. “I’m Autumn Tremayne.”

  “Yes, I know.” Marilynda brushed at a peanut-butter smudge on her jeans. “At least I thought you must be. Cade said you’d be the only one with—”

  “Don’t tell me. I can readily imagine how he described me.” Autumn didn’t even want to think what he might have said about her. She glanced at Cade with sudden resentment. He hadn’t offered her even a one-word description of Marilynda. “I should have recognized you right away,” she said. “Jay looks very much like you.”

  The dark eyes softened with maternal pleasure.

  “Why, thank you. He thinks you took like Firestar. She’s one of the cartoon superheroes who save the earth from destruction every Saturday morning, in case you’re not acquainted.”

  “Brian introduced us the first weekend I was home,” Autumn said.

  “Then you know that Jay meant you only the most sincere compliment.” With a casual brush of her fingers Marilynda fluffed her long, wavy hair into becoming disorder. “Sometimes I get distraught when I think that my son is growing up with a cartooned view of the world’s problems. But when it’s seven o’clock on Saturday morning, I just pull the covers over my head and thank God for those wonderfully farsighted animators. They must all be parents.”

  It was easy to share an understanding laugh and just as easy to like Marilynda. Autumn hadn’t been prepared for that. But she should have realized Cade would never fall in love with anyone ordinary. And Marilynda was far from ordinary. On a soft, silent sigh, Autumn’s lips formed a reluctant curve. “Cade’s mentioned you several times, but somehow I pictured you differently.”

  As Marilynda took a drink from her cup, her dark eyes were quietly appraising. “Cade’s mentioned you so often that I’m almost embarrassed to admit you’re not quite what I expected either.”

  Autumn’s gaze stole accusingly back to Cade. “I stopped wearing my hair in ponytails and decorating my knees with bandages years ago, but I don’t think he’s noticed.”

  “He didn’t say a word about ponytails or bandages,” Marilynda assured with solemn amusement. “But he did say you’d be the only one glowering at him today.”

  Autumn laughed simply because she hadn’t glowered at him even once, but she had thought about it. At that moment he looked toward her, smiled, and pulled his hand from his hip pocket to wave. She started to wave back when she realized Marilynda had already done so and that Cade was turning away, apparently satisfied with that response. The laughter suffocated in her throat and Autumn returned her hand to her lap.

  “I told him he deserved every glower he got from you,” Marilynda continued, “considering what he said about the boutique.”

  “The boutique?” Autumn echoed, instantly and cautiously alert. “Cade told you about that?”

  “Yes.” The dark eyes became apologetic. “It wasn’t supposed to be a secret, was it?”

  Autumn made herself relax. “No, of course not. I’m just surprised he said anything about it. He doesn’t think much of the idea.”

  “Well, I think it’s a great idea, Autumn, and I don’t understand why Cade objects. My only suggestion would be to elevate the floor in that corner of the room a step or two and add carpeting. That way it will seem more like a store within a store.” With a low laugh Marilynda paused. “Needless to say, he wasn’t crazy about my idea either, but....” The sentence ended on a verbal shrug. “How soon are you going to be able to present him with the facts and figures?”

  It was impossible to take offense at such an eager display of interest and support, yet Autumn recognized the irritation mixed in with the mild pleasure she felt. How could Cade have discussed this with someone else when the idea of the boutique was a point of contention between them? The very thought was annoying and yet she knew the emotion was based more on whom he’d discussed it with than why. She had been right in assuming Marilynda was special to Cade in a way she herself could never be.

  “It’s going to be another couple of weeks,” she answered belatedly. “I’d already thought about adding carpet, but it might be a good idea to raise that section of flooring a step.” Autumn hesitated, unsure of what to say next, Her words were going in one direction and her thoughts were scattering in another. “First things first, though. Cade has to come around to our way of thinking.”

  Marilynda nodded and a thoughtful gleam sparkled in her eyes. “Between the two of us, he doesn’t stand a chance. But we won’t tell him that.” Her smile tilted mischievously. “I’ll get Jay to do it.”

  A disquieting lump lodged in Autumn’s throat with the knowledge that Cade’s relationship with this mother and son was more than friendly and obviously quite comfortable for all three. She banished the knot of emotion with a cough. “Never underestimate the persuasive power of anyone under twelve,” she philosophized in her lightest tone. “Cade has told me he’s very fond of Jay. Now if I can get Beth and Brian to take up the cause, Cade will have to surrender.”

  Autumn raised her brows in cautious amusement.

  “Does anything about this sound illegal to you? We wouldn’t be violating the child-work laws, would
we?”

  Marilynda again released a low laugh. “I don’t know about that, but it’s decidedly unfair when three children can accomplish more in one well-timed siege than one adult can do in weeks. And speaking of children, I haven’t seen my son in quite a while. Maybe I’d better take a look around.” She stood, subjecting the immediate area to a thorough parental scrutiny. With a grimace of resignation she stepped away from the picnic table. “Hide-and-seek,” she commented dryly. “My favorite pastime.”

  Autumn watched Marilynda walk away. A curiously unpleasant sensation trickled down her back when the laughing brunette stopped to exchange an affectionate smile with Cade. What about the search for Jay? Autumn was promptly ashamed of the thought. Marilynda had probably stopped at Cade’s request and, more than likely, he would join her in looking for her son. Within moments Autumn watched the two of them move together in the direction of the house.

  Together. Cade and Marilynda. He didn’t touch the woman beside him in even the most casual way and yet Autumn saw him laugh, saw that secret smile, and felt embarrassingly jealous. In disgust, she rose and tossed the paper plate she had just eaten from into the nearby trash container. Why had she even noticed those special looks that conveyed a sense of togetherness? What was it about a picnic that made her think of sharing secrets and holding hands?

  Autumn let the breeze blow her hair. She was perfectly capable of finding someone to hold hands with her if she wanted. After all, somewhere in this crowd she had a niece and nephew who thought she was pretty special too. With a determined frown Autumn started walking toward the noisiest group on the lawn.

  It wasn’t until the seventh inning of the playoff softball game that Autumn admitted she was trying too hard to enjoy herself. From left field, as she watched the winning run trot home, she decided the whole day had taken too much effort. Or perhaps her heart really hadn’t been in it. Whatever the reason, she was tired of the noise, the games, and the crowd.