by A. L. Cook
“I don’t know,” she grumbled. “Maybe I don’t like the idea of her staking a claim where there’s none to be had.”
“Because I’m all yours?” Cam teased.
“Because you’re not someone’s possession,” she corrected, acutely aware of the fact that his mother was privy to their conversation.
Sensing her growing frustration, Cam let Erin off the hook. “Well, we don’t have to worry about her here,” he said lightly. “She has no idea where I live, no matter how hard she’s tried to find out.”
“I don’t think I want to know what that means,” Erin said, shaking her head.
“Probably not,” Cam agreed cheerfully. “Mom, I’m going to show Erin around,” he said. “Call us when lunch is ready?” He kissed Miranda’s cheek, grabbed Erin’s hand and led her downstairs.
Instead of showing her around, though, he hurried her through the door to his room and swept her up into his arms, falling onto the bed with her and kissing her until she was laughing breathlessly and winding her arms tightly around him.
“What’s this about?” she asked as he kissed down her throat to the hollow between her breasts.
“I like how protective you are,” he said, looking up at her. “It’s nice knowing how much you care.”
“Do you not know already?” Erin asked him, her voice gravelly.
“Sure,” Cam replied easily, not wanting to push the issue, but he was stopped by Erin shifting to sit up on the bed, pulling him up with her.
“I’m serious,” she said, intent. “Do you… have I never…” She trailed off and sighed, frustrated at her own inability to get across what she was trying to say. “I want to talk to you about something, and I need you to let me get it out before you say anything, or ask any questions,” she told him, meeting his gaze squarely. “It’s not easy for me to talk about, so I need to you to be patient, just a little longer.”
Cam nodded seriously. “I will, but you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he told her, feeling his heart thumping in his chest and a coil of nervous energy beginning to twist in his belly.
“I should have done it a long time ago,” she told him, taking a deep breath.
And she told him. Told him about meeting Daniel just after she had gotten back from Paris, their romance, the love they shared, his career as a fireman. She had to look away, her fingers fiddling with the rings on a chain around her neck- hers and her husband’s, he now knew- as she told about how he had gone out to a routine house fire and never come home. He heard about the devastation she had felt, her bewildered confusion at having to sort out his will, life insurance, the day-to-day running of her life when all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball in the dark and let the world pass her by.
She explained that living in the house, their home, surrounded by memories and ghosts became too much for her to bear. She had sold it and everything in it and gone, finding it too hard to keep in contact with his family or any of their shared friends. She had been alone, well and truly, until the day she had run into him.
“It was all too much,” she told Cam. “You were so beautiful, and the way we connected was so intense, and so immediate. Then I found out that you were a firefighter and it all came crashing in around me. I had sworn to myself that I’d never involve myself with anyone who runs towards the danger instead of away from it again; I just didn’t think my heart could take it. But there you were, patient, and kind, and lovely, and I couldn’t let you go. I was selfish, and wanted you with me, even though I thought I’d eventually have to leave again to avoid the hurt of it all. But I stayed, and then I started to think that maybe it would be okay; maybe because I love you, that would be enough.”
She stopped and shrugged, her expression guarded as she blinked tears away before they could fall. “I got caught up in trying to rationalise not having a relationship and real feelings for you, I guess. Then once that idea was shot I was trying to justify why I should, no matter the potential it had to end in heartache. Somewhere along the way I suppose I forgot to let you know that all this was going on in my head. I’m sorry; you must be so confused.”
Cam’s heart had broken a thousand times over for her as she had spoken, unable to comprehend that kind of loss. So many things now made sense, helped him to understand her rationale, and he was so glad she had finally told him. He stared at his hands, his heart racing at her words.
“You love me?” he asked, smiling at her.
“What?” she asked, her eyes shifting slightly from his as she ran her own words back through her head. “That’s what you got from all that?”
“I’d like to say no,” he quipped, and at her snort he reached out and took her hand. “A lot of things make a lot of sense now,” he told her. “And I feel like a bad person for saying so, but even though you’ve been through so much, I’d never have met you if you hadn’t. We wouldn’t be here, together. Because that’s what I want. I can wait, Erin, and I will wait for as long as you need if you just tell me that you’ll come to me when you’re ready. If you love me, there’s nothing I won’t do for you, whenever you need it.”
She looked stunned. “I don’t want to wait,” she told him. “To answer your question, yes, I do love you. I hadn’t really planned on just blurting it out like that, but I do.”
Cameron took her face in his hands and kissed her gently, lingeringly. “I love you too,” he murmured against her lips. “I’ve been in love with you since you stood naked in front of me in your living room with so much confidence the day we met, and I’ve fallen deeper every day since.”
Erin’s breath hitched and she stared at him. She had suspected, but to have him say it outright like that, and so soon on the heels of her having laid her worst heartbreak at his feet, had turned a painful conversation into one that shone with hope.
“Since I was naked, huh?” she asked, her voice slightly shaky as she nuzzled her face against the side of his neck.
“Naked and proud,” he affirmed.
“So, if I were to get naked some more?” she asked, teasing.
“I’d probably have to love you some more,” Cam told her, making his tone matter-of-fact, chuckling lightly before kissing her deeply, until her arousal matched his and things were starting to get interesting.
Then Miranda’s voice came floating down to them, and Cam groaned, pulling back and resting his forehead against Erin’s. “Do you think if we stay really still she won’t find us?” he whispered, making her laugh.
“Come on,” she told him. “All that emotional bloodletting has made me hungry.” She got to her feet and straightened her clothes. “Are we okay?” she asked as Cam did the same. I know all of that was a lot to take in.”
“We’re totally okay,” Cam told her. “There may be things that come up that we have to work for, but we can do it together.”
Eleven
The few days in the lead up to Christmas were filled with activity. Cam and Erin went in search of a small-enough tree, lugging it back to the house on the back of a quad bike to be set up in preparation for Cam’s sisters and their children to arrive and help with the decoration; lights were strung up outside and decorations inside the house; they explored the island together, Cam showing Erin the places he spent as a boy; guest beds were made up and everything was put in place for the arrival of the rest of the family.
But the thing Erin enjoyed the most was the cooking. She spent hours in the kitchen with Miranda, or Cam, or occasionally both, getting a veritable feast prepared for Christmas dinner. It was familiar and homey, and for the first time in years, Erin felt a part of something familial.
On the morning of Christmas Eve, Erin couldn’t sleep. After lying in bed for an hour trying to go back to sleep, she decided to get up, moving quietly in the dark so as not to disturb Cameron. She climbed the stairs to the kitchen, pulling the range hood out to give her some light to work by so she didn’t wake Miranda, whose bedroom was off the main living area.
Her hours sp
ent in the kitchen over the previous two days had served her well, and she found what she needed easily, searching the enormous walk-in pantry to gather what she needed and bring it out to the island counter. She worked quickly and efficiently, the stovetop covered in pans filled with chocolate, toffee, lemon curd and custard. She forewent using the Mixmaster, beating butter, eggs and sugar by hand to keep the noise down. So it was that she didn’t notice Miranda until she looked up and saw the older woman sitting at the counter in a fleecy dressing gown, watching her.
“Jesus, Miranda, you scared me!” Erin yelped, dropping the whisk onto the polished granite and pressing her hand to her chest.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” she apologised, leaning over and handing her back the whisk. “I was reading and heard you, so I thought I’d pop out and see what’s up.”
“I’m so sorry,” Erin apologised. “I was trying to be quiet.“ She broke off and turned as she heard bubbling on the stove, stirring two of the saucepans, lowering the heat on one and turning it off completely on the fourth.
“I was awake already, don’t worry about it,” Miranda told her. “I see your skills were no exaggeration,” she said with a smile, taking in the organised chaos of the kitchen. “What are you making?”
“I have brownies almost ready to go in the oven, a few pie crusts and choux puffs almost ready to come out of the oven for lemon meringue pie and profiteroles, and I’m getting cupcakes ready for the kids to decorate later today. I’ve also got a chocolate, pear and pistachio tart chilling in the fridge.”
“Wow!” Miranda said. “That is amazing!”
“Cooking for you all is the least I can do to thank you for your hospitality,” she said with a smile, pouring in some vanilla paste and half of the milk, mixing it thoroughly and adding flour. “I really appreciate it, especially over the holidays.”
“You’re welcome here any time,” Miranda said seriously, and they descended into an easy silence as Erin continued her baking. “Did you know that Cameron has never brought a girl home?” she asked after a while.
“So more than a few people have mentioned,” Erin told her, the rhythmic system of filling choux puffs with custard from a disposable piping bag she had established slowing as she studied Cam’s mother while she worked.
“I would never despair of any of my children; I trust that we raised them well enough that they can and will proactively seek their own happiness. But I have to admit that it worried me a little that he hadn’t seemed to find that special someone he could create a connection with. You have to understand, in a small community, there are no such things as secrets. My family are quite wealthy- old Boston venture capital mostly- but that meant that Cameron had to learn early on that not all of his friendships were true.”
Folding her hands on the counter, Miranda shifted on her stool. “I think, somewhere along the way, that lesson turned into a reluctance to engage enough to form any relationship that went beyond superficial.” A smile lifted the corner of her mouth. “And then I called him to see what his plans were for Christmas, when they were still planning the fundraiser, I think. That was the first time he mentioned you; not by name, not then, but he said you were special. I told him to be careful.”
Erin finished piping and covered the profiteroles to put in the fridge. She picked up a dishcloth to wipe her hands, and faced Miranda. “I love Cameron,” she said simply.
“You can see why I might worry, though?” Miranda asked. “He’s spent his entire life not letting anyone get too close and then you come into his life and a month later he’s head over heels.”
Erin laughed a little. “I can’t believe I’m going to have this conversation twice in a twenty-four hour period.” She took a bracing breath and straightened a little. “I was married once. My husband was a firefighter.” She nodded at Miranda’s surprised expression. “He died on a call out,” she said quickly, as though saying it fast would lessen the pain. “He had a comprehensive life insurance policy which allowed me to pay off our home, several times over if I’d needed to. I couldn’t live in that house any more, so I sold it and all our things, and eventually ended up in Juneau. I work- you might be surprised by how much I actually make- and all of that means that I have money of my own. I don’t need Cam’s.”
Miranda nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said, contrite. “It just seemed to be so sudden, I had to make sure your intentions were pure.”
Something clicked for Erin. “Is that why you don’t like Ebony?” she asked.
“It’s exactly as you said,” Miranda told her, expression hard. “She treats Cameron as though he’s her possession.”
“I have to admit,” Erin told Miranda cheekily, “it’s quite amusing to watch him try and stay polite when she manages to pin him down.”
Miranda laughed. “You’ll be good for my boy, I think.”
“Thank you,” she said sincerely, only now realising how much Miranda’s approval had been weighing on her. Between finally laying everything bare for Cam and his mother having had the new girlfriend ‘talk’ with her, Erin felt lighter and more carefree than she had in a very long time. She felt positive about moving forward with her life, and allowing herself to get close to someone again, even if he was a firefighter.
“I mean it,” Miranda continued. “You seem steadfast and sincere, two aspects of Cameron’s life that have always seemed somewhat lacking, either because of him or the people he knows. You’ll be the counterbalance for him, and help give his life some stability.”
“I don’t think you’d say that if you’d been inside my head the last few weeks,” she said dismissively.
“I’ve been where you are,” Miranda told her. “Cam’s father was my second husband.” Erin was surprised. Cam had never told her that. “That’s right,” she continued. “My first husband, Joseph, was a trawler captain. We were married when we were right out of high school, and a year later had a daughter, Caroline. When she was two, there was a huge storm that sunk Joe’s trawler, taking all the crew with her. I was alone, had a daughter, no family to speak of, and I was heartbroken.”
Erin could see the echoes of grief lingering on Miranda’s features, and she had no idea what to say. Miranda was staring at her hands as she spoke, and Erin was grateful she didn’t have to say anything as the older woman kept speaking.
“It took me a very long time to get over his death,” she explained. “The worst part of it all was that there was no definitive resolution. The boat disappeared, and there was no trace of the crew, so there was always this persistent hope, I suppose, that I’d get a miracle and Joe would come home.” She shrugged a little. “I knew, of course. Deep down, in the part of me that has always been too rational to be a cushion I knew he was gone, but trying to get past that hope almost killed me.
“And then I met Elliott, Cameron’s father. I was in the grocery store in Juneau, of all places, when he came in on a grocery run for the station. They had just managed to get a massive factory fire under control, but it had been going for days and it was all hands on deck, so the kitchen hadn’t been restocked in all the mayhem. His crew had gotten back, starving and exhausted, to find no food. So there he was in the shop, filthy, about ready to fall down with fatigue, throwing as much breakfast food into the trolley as he could. I had planned on baking later than day, and had two cartons of eggs in my trolley, which had left just one on the shelf. I gave him my eggs and he smiled and told me that he would flirt with me if he just wasn’t so damn tired, so could he take me out for dinner tomorrow night and let him have a proper go of it?
“I still don’t know what it was that made me say yes, but I did, and the rest is history. We were married by the end of that year, pregnant with Angela right away, and Cameron came along two years later. So I know some of what you’re feeling,” she said. “And I see so much in you that is like I was at your age. That’s how I know that you’ll be able to be what Cam needs. Because like I had with Elliott, you have an inexhaustible capacity for love, and I think o
nce you do, you give yourself over to it entirely. Cam needs that; he needs someone who will be there to love him unreservedly. You’ve been hurt, but you’ve also made the decision to let it shape you, not break you. Your strength will become his.”
Erin was stunned. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” she said sincerely. “I can’t even begin to imagine how hard that would have been with a child.”
“It wasn’t easy,” Miranda told her with a slight smile. “But I got through it, and you’re almost to the other side of it all, yourself. Remember that when it all gets to hard, too overwhelming.”
“I will,” Erin promised, meaning it.
Getting to her feet and pulling the tie on her robe a little tighter, Miranda moved into the kitchen and turned the kettle on. “After all that, I think I could use a strong cup of coffee. You?”
“Please,” Erin said, stacking and starting the dishwasher as she ran over everything she had just been told in her mind. It gave her hope, that Cameron’s mother had obviously found happiness after her first husband had died, and had moved on to have a full and rewarding life.