“That’s one of the reasons I chose it,” she said. “I want to spend my free time playing with Jamie, not wrestling with toilets.”
Was that her way of telling him she wouldn’t need him to hang around and fix things?
But then they were turning the corner to her place, and his worries were pushed aside by anticipation when he spotted Maggie on the front step with Jamie in her arms. One look at his son and Boone knew that even if he didn’t end up living in that neat little town house, he was still staying here in Comeback Cove. He wanted Jamie to have everything he never had. He wanted his son to grow up with the only things that mattered. A warm and loving home. Two of them, if that was how it worked out. And parents who loved him.
Boone was pretty sure he heard Maggie say something totally inappropriate when he climbed out of the limo, but it barely registered next to the dawning delight in Jamie’s face. Half a dozen steps later, that face was pressed close to Boone’s shoulder.
God, how had he ever been fool enough to think he could stay away?
“I’m back, buddy,” he whispered against Jamie’s ear. “And I’m gonna do whatever it takes to be the kind of dad you deserve.”
Jamie’s answer was to raise his head, scan the area and lunge for Kate walking toward them.
“Sorry to interrupt, but Mom said he took the bare minimum of his bottle, so...”
“Got it.” He handed Jamie over and returned to the limo to get his things. When he turned around, Kate was inside and Maggie was in his face.
“If you break her heart again, I’m going to rip your spleen out through your belly button.”
“Good to see you, too, Maggie,” he said automatically. Then her words registered.
If you break her heart again...
Meaning that he had broken it once already. Not something he was proud of, for sure. But since a heart could be broken only when love was involved...
He hadn’t dared believe Kate when she told him she loved him. But if Maggie was saying it, even directly, maybe it was true. Maybe he still had a chance at putting those ripped pieces back together.
He set his bags on the ground, took Maggie by the shoulders and kissed her forehead.
He was pretty sure she was still sputtering when he let himself into the house.
He didn’t need to ask where Kate had gone. He followed the sound of her laughter and the squeak of the rocking chair until he found her in the office. She’d pulled off the pretty pink dress and wrapped herself in that white robe again, and when he realized what she was wearing he kind of lost the ability to speak for a minute.
“Hey.” She extended her free hand, waved him closer. He pulled the old wingback chair to her side and stroked Jamie’s arm.
“He looks so much more grown up,” he said. “I know that doesn’t sound possible since I see him every week, but there’s something about seeing him in person that—”
“Boone, I’m sorry.”
Wait. She was sorry?
“Uh, I think I’m the one who’s supposed to be groveling here.”
“Oh, don’t worry. You’ll get your chance. But when you told me about the job, I—look, I had a right to be pissed. I’m not apologizing for that. But I didn’t give you much of a chance to explain or anything. And then I basically stopped talking to you, and I shouldn’t have. And then Mom told me I was being an idiot to not give you a chance, and—”
“Hold on. Your mother said you should give me a second chance?” If he’d known that, he would have thrown a real hug in with that taunting kiss.
“She did, and she was right. I mean, I was hurt and angry, and I still think I had a right to feel that way.”
He thought of how badly he’d blown that entire situation. “You did. Absolutely.”
“But the thing is, I was so busy licking my wounds I lost sight of the important part. That you would be back here. And even though I got lost in the details, you still gave up the only home you’ve known for Jamie. And I... Before we say anything else, I want you to know, I am grateful. And humbled. And amazed that you found a way to keep doing important work while being a regular part of Jamie’s life.”
“It wasn’t just for Jamie, Kate.” Did he dare touch her? Even a brush of his fingers against her cheek? “And you’re giving me too much credit. Peru was home, yeah, but only because it was the first place where I was with people who actually cared about me. ’Cause it turns out that home is kind of portable. You always find it with people you love.” He cupped her cheek, almost as soft as Jamie’s arm. “So wherever you and Jamie are, that’s my home.”
She closed her eyes and breathed in, long and deep and ragged.
“I thought, maybe,” she whispered. “I mean, I hoped, but I didn’t—”
“I love you, Kate. Nothing is right without you.” He scooched to the edge of the chair. “And does that offer to stay married still stand? Is it too late to accept? Because there’s nothing I want more than to move into that town house and build a life with you, and Jamie.”
“I—damn it, Boone. You made me cry and I’m dripping on Jamie and—”
He swiveled, grabbed a tissue from the box by the computer, and dabbed at her tears until she started laughing.
“This has to be the most ridiculous reunion ever,” she said. “I mean, I’m crying, and you’re all the way over there, and I have a baby on my boob, and I need to switch sides, and—”
He leaned forward, taking care to avoid Jamie, and kissed her. Slowly. Reverently. The way he intended to kiss her for the rest of his life.
“Better?” he asked when it finally ended.
“A little.” She peeked up at him through her lashes. “But not totally. You might need to keep—”
But Jamie had obviously had enough of being in the middle of a parent sandwich. He chose that moment to deliver a remarkably strong kick to Boone’s ribs.
“Whoa!”
Kate laughed and cupped his cheek. “Now you know how it feels to be pregnant.”
No.
Now he knew how it felt to be a family.
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this romance by Kris Fletcher,
be sure to visit
COMEBACK COVE, CANADA
in these other great books:
A BETTER FATHER
NOW YOU SEE ME
DATING A SINGLE DAD
A FAMILY COME TRUE
PICKET FENCE SURPRISE
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To Catch a Thief
by Nan Dixon
CHAPTER ONE
CAROLINA INHALED, CLOSED her eyes and poured her heart into the last eight measures of music. “Baby, baby, I’m in love with you.”
She held the note, riding the vowel. Let it crescendo with the piano.
Applause thundered through the room. People in the back stood.
Raising both arms, she finished with a flourish.
The adulation washed over her. Tonight was her best performance—ever. Each note, each phrase, had emerged exactly how she’d imagined and practiced.
Perfect timing. Her business manager, Gar, sat near the stage, two record producers at the table with him. Gar gave her a thumbs-up, making her smile.
“Good night. You’ve been a great audience.” She waved and left the stage.
In the wings, she grabbed her water, glugging down half the bottle. Then she snatched a towel and wiped under her arms. Good Lord, she hoped the audience hadn’t noticed the sweat. Between the stage lights, August in Nashville and the bar’s half-hearted air-conditioning, she’d worried she would drown in a puddle of perspiration.
“Incredible! You got a standing O!” Ella, her accompanist, pushed into the small backstage and hugged her.
“I’m soaking wet,” Carolina complained. But she hugged Ella right back.
“Stars don’t sweat, they glow.” Ella pulled away, grinning. “Now, say thank you.”
“Thank you?”
“I pretended to straighten sheet music so I could eavesdrop on Doofus and the record producers. They loved your voice. Loved you.”
“Don’t call Gar a doofus.” Carolina bit her lip to contain her grin and sneaked a peek at the audience through the wings. “They really loved it?”
“Oh, honey, yes. And Gar is a doofus.” Ella pulled a water bottle from her bag. “He’s lucky to have you as his talent.”
“He did get the producers here tonight.” Carolina headed to the closet that served as her dressing room. Or maybe it was a dressing room that doubled as a closet. “I was nervous. Thanks for covering when I missed my cue.”
“No problem.” Ella settled on a barstool tucked back with the buckets and mops. “You have to take me with you when you rocket to the top of the charts.”
“If I have anything to say, we’ll do this together.” She’d never worked with a pianist as talented as Ella. When Carolina first moved to Nashville, they’d found each other through a roommate ad. Now Ella was her best friend.
While Carolina wiped off her makeup, she turned on her phone. Three missed calls. All from Mamá. Shoot. After rehearsing this afternoon, she hadn’t turned her phone back on.
Now what? Her mother had returned from a cruise a few days ago, but they’d talked since then.
She checked the time. It was close to midnight. Back home in Tybee it would be one in the morning. She opened her voice mail, but saw no new messages. She sighed.
“What’s wrong?” Ella asked.
“I’m not sure.” She checked whether her mother had left a text, but Mamá never did. She preferred conversations. “I need to call my mother.”
She waited as the phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
“Carolina!” Mamá wailed. “Thank God.”
The water in her stomach churned. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s back,” her mother sobbed. “It’s back.”
Carolina swallowed. No. “What’s back?”
But she knew. Her fingers squeezed the phone.
“The cancer. The maldito cancer.”
Mamá’s sobbing gulps had tears filling Carolina’s eyes. She bit her lip. No. No. No. “What happened?”
Ella’s fingers pressed into Carolina’s shoulder. She leaned into her friend’s strength.
“Dr. Laster says I’m dying. The cancer is killing me.”
“Breast cancer? Again?”
“In my head,” her mother wailed. “The tumors are in my head.”
Her mother’s breast cancer had metastasized.
Carolina’s joy slid away. She whispered, “Mamá.”
“I need you,” she whimpered. “Come home. I don’t have much time left. I need my baby with me.”
“Of course. Yes.” Her mind whirled. “I’ll... I’ll come home.”
She wanted to ask more questions about the diagnosis, but couldn’t force words past the lump in her throat. She choked out, “I’ll get home as soon as I can.”
“Hurry.”
Ella handed her a tissue. At Carolina’s confused look, Ella blotted Carolina’s wet face.
“I’ll... I’ll...leave tomorrow.” There was so much to do. “Get some sleep, Mamá.”
“How can I? I have no one. If only your father...”
“Mamá, think positive.” She couldn’t let her mother dwell on the past or on the wrongs Rosa Castillo felt the world had dealt to her. “I’ll be home tomorrow.”
After teary goodbyes, she dropped her phone on the makeup table. There was so much to do, but her heavy body wouldn’t move.
“I’m sorry.” Ella hugged her. “I’ll...help you pack, do whatever needs doing.”
“Thanks.”
“Great show.” Gar pushed into the tiny room.
“You need to knock,” Ella snapped. “What if we’d been changing?”
“Who cares?” Gar waved Ella’s anger aside. “Why the hell are you crying? Someone die?”
Ella gasped. “Carolina’s mother is sick.”
“She’s always sick.” Gar’s diamond ring flashed as he waved his hand. “We’ve got a meeting with the execs who were here tonight. They loved you. I need both of you. They want to hear a different set.”
“They’re interested in me?” Carolina covered her mouth.
“Of course they are. Great performance.”
“Thank you.” But Carolina couldn’t push any enthusiasm into her voice. Her mother’s cancer was back.
Gar nodded. “Tomorrow afternoon at two.”
“I... I can’t.” Her ribs squeezed against her tortured stomach. “I have to go back to Tybee.”
“What?” Gar shouted.
“I have to go home for my mother.”
“You can’t leave.” He jabbed his thumb toward the stage. “They’re looking for a new artist. They have an open slot they can fill in a heartbeat but they gave you an audition. You can’t leave.”
“My mother’s cancer is back. Can you explain that to them.” She pushed her hair off her face. “I’ll... I’ll let you know when I can get back to Nashville, but I have to go home.”
“Damn it, Carolina.” He leaned over, his face inches from hers. “I put too much energy into getting them to come listen. They won’t wait. You can’t do this to me.”
“To you?” She pulled away. “It’s my mother!”
“What was wrong the last time she begged you to come home?” His jaw clenched so tight the bone stuck out. “And the time before that? You’re a yoyo, always bouncing home at your mother’s demand.”
Was her mother crying wolf? She’d done it before. The last time had been on the anniversary of Daddy’s death. She’d been lonely. “This is different. This is cancer and it’s spreading.”
“Call her.” Gar shoved her phone at her. “Tell her this is your big break.”
Ella gnawed on her knuckle.
Carolina snatched her phone from Gar, but instead of dialing she shoved it in her purse. “I’m sorry. I’m going home.”
“This was your big break and you blew it.” Gar jerked the door open. “Find yourself a new manager.”
* * *
CAROLINA OPENED THE window as she drove down the
causeway. Pungent marsh air filled the car. It was so humid, she could almost drink it in.
She was home.
A container ship headed through the channel on her left, bound for the port of Savannah. On her right, water and reeds filled the flat landscape. River channels twisted through the marshlands.
She checked the time. Five o’clock. She should have met the record people at two. If she’d stayed in Nashville, would the label have signed her?
Instead she was heading to Tybee Island, Georgia. What if Gar was right? What if her mother was faking—again? Carolina might have blown her best chance at getting a label to back her career.
She couldn’t think that way. Time to call Mamá.
“I’m almost there,” she said when her mother picked up.
“I don’t understand why you didn’t leave last night,” her mother complained.
“I had to pack.” And sleep. And cancel her other singing engagements, but she’d done that while driving. “I’ve been on the road for almost ten hours.”
“You’ll have to let yourself in. I’m at the mall, but I’ll leave now.”
Her mother was shopping? “Mall?”
Mamá hung up.
Carolina gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles ached. Each month she sent money to her mother. She’d eaten a lot of peanut butter and oatmeal so she could help her mother cover her expenses.
Maybe Mamá was at the grocery store? No. She’d said the mall. That meant she was in Savannah.
With her lips pinched together, Carolina slowed for the turn into the neighborhood and her grandparents’ home where she’d grown up.
Poppy had run a charter fishing boat out of Tybee. When she was little, she’d loved sitting on her grandfather’s lap as the wind tangled her hair and they flew across the waves. He’d smelled of salt, sunshine and fish. Love.
The white shells on the drive crunched under her Ford Focus’s tires. She stared at the yellow house on its white stilts. Two drives flanked the central staircase and led under the house to carports.
The trim on the windows, steps and railing needed a fresh coat of white paint. So did the porch. The two-story house wasn’t big, but her mother didn’t need more space. And Carolina had always loved the small widow’s walk off the attic. As a child, the house had looked like sunshine. At least she’d convinced her mother to put up vinyl siding so the yellow looked fresh.
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