After making a precision-swift diaper change, Mason marched downstairs with his troops, setting them in the playpen while mixing formula. A few minutes after that, he sat on the sofa with both pretty girls nestled into the crooks of his arms.
“I’m so sorry,” he said over their greedy suckling. “Rookie mistake that will never happen again.”
Vivian’s blue-eyed stare warned him it’d better not.
The fact that he’d forgotten such a basic necessity as the baby monitor reinforced Mason’s belief he had no business being any child’s parent—let alone, Melissa and Alec’s kids.
Though Hattie claimed she was ready, he had serious doubts as to whether or not she was any more capable than him. Not three minutes into the movie, clearly exhausted, she’d fallen asleep.
He’d watched her for a spell, worrying about how she’d manage both her bar and new family.
She’d always been one of the strongest people he knew, but in that moment’s peace, she’d appeared vulnerable. Almost fragile. Her complexion had paled and her cheeks bore telltale signs of tears.
Guilt consumed him for even thinking of leaving her on her own with the girls. But honestly, what else could he do? Even if the twins weren’t the product of a marriage he’d viewed as a betrayal, that whole mess had forever changed him. It’d stolen whatever softness his heart might have once contained and exchanged it for unyielding steel.
He was now a soldier.
That was all.
Chapter Seven
“I’m a horrible person,” Hattie said as she pushed their cart at Conifer’s only grocery store. While Princess Vivian rode in her carrier in the cart, Mason held Vanessa. “You should’ve shaken me awake.”
“Knock it off, will you?” He took five cans of the organic formula Melissa had preferred from the shelf. “We both screwed up. I’m as much to blame as you. Luckily, other than Vivian giving me the stink eye, no real harm was done.”
She tossed three bags of diapers atop their growing pile. “Yeah, but what if there’d been a fire or burglar?”
“Armed robbery a big worry in Conifer nowadays?”
It took Hattie a sec to see the smile lighting his eyes. Then she restrained herself from pummeling him. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do. But we got lucky and both girls are fine. Lesson learned.” They rounded the corner to the cereal aisle, where he asked, “You still a fan of Cap’n Crunch?”
“Love it,” she said with a wistful glance toward a box, “but my hips don’t.”
“What’s wrong with your hips?”
Seriously? He was going to make her explain the obvious? She’d always been big-boned, but lately her weight had become more and more of an issue. One she had no intention of discussing with Mason.
“Did you have an operation Dad forgot to tell me about?”
Hattie clenched her teeth to keep from saying something she may later regret. After adding bran flakes to the cart, she asked, “Anything in particular you want?”
“Whoa.” She’d moved a good ten feet from him, when he grabbed her arm, lightly tugging her back, flooding her with an old, achy longing for him she’d thought had been tucked safely away and forgotten. “Talk to me, Hat Trick. What’s with the sudden deep freeze?”
Tears stung her eyes. Her friends constantly told her how strong she was and funny and hardworking, but never had anyone said she was pretty or looked darling in a dress the way they had her sister. She would give away half her credit score to have Mason look at her just once the way he had Melissa. With heat. Longing. Appreciation.
“What’d I do? Does this have something to do with missing your sister?”
Wrenching free from him, she continued to the next aisle, desperate to get away.
Unfortunately, he was not only a head taller than her, but faster. In a heartbeat, he’d rounded the cart, bracing his hands on either side. “You’re not going anywhere until I’m out of the doghouse. If we’re stuck living together for the next three weeks, let’s at least be civil.”
Stuck? Oh—that made her feel much better.
“For the last time, what do your hips have to do with our old pal The Captain?”
“I’m fat, okay? There. I said it. Happy?”
He actually had the good graces to appear dumbfounded, with his mouth partially open. “Are you kidding me?”
“Can we please finish up?” Unshed tears blurred her vision.
“We will, but first things first. For the record, what the hell? Fat? You’re not fat, for God’s sake. You’re voluptuous and a one-hundred-percent beautiful woman. Melissa used to spout this dieting crap all the time and it pissed me off. If I were sticking around, I’d tell Vanessa and Viv every day that they’re pretty just the way they are.”
But you’re not sticking around. The words caught in Hattie’s throat. For an awkward moment, she wasn’t sure what to do with herself and then Mason caught and held her gaze.
Finally, he looked away before stalking to the delicious, sugary cereal they’d both eaten by the bushels as kids. He tossed two boxes in the cart, then shot her a dirty look. “You’re not fat.”
* * *
“WOULD YOU QUIT lookin’ at that thing and get back to chopping?” Mason’s dad rammed his ax extra hard on the log he’d been splitting, coming dangerously close in the process to knocking off the baby monitor Mason had set on the porch rail. The temperature was falling fast, and a stiff breeze howled through the pines. With another winter storm heading their way, and Alec not even having a fraction of the wood supply needed to carry a home as large as his and Melissa’s through the winter, Mason was grateful to his dad for pitching in. “Fern knows more about babies than anyone in this town.”
“How?” Hattie had gone to work at the bar and her father reported Akna was in no shape to watch the girls, so Fern, a former long-haul trucker, had volunteered to watch Vivian and Vanessa.
“Remember a few years back when Fern had that puppy? Well, Rascal grew into a fine dog.”
“Dad, even I know there’s a helluva difference between raising a dog and kids.”
His father used his shirt sleeve to wipe sweat from his brow. “Fern’s a good woman. Those kids could do worse.”
“Since when are you two getting on so well?”
“What do you mean?” Had his longtime bachelor dad’s cheeks actually reddened from something other than exertion?
“You know...” Mason winked. “I think Fern has a crush on you.”
“Me and Fern?” Jerry laughed. “We have a complicated relationship. Although, folks at the coffee shop have been speculating on the prospect of you and Hattie ending up together. Said it’d be shameful—Hattie taking up with her dead sister’s husband.”
“They can talk all they want—” Mason took a fresh log from the truck bed “—but not only did the gossips leave out the bit about Melissa’s having been my ex, but I’m expected back on base in three weeks. Besides which, one Beaumont woman was more than enough for me.”
His dad grunted. “Guess you’ve got a point there.”
“You’re actually agreeing with me?”
“Not so much agreeing as remembering. Not to speak ill of the dead, but Melissa put you through the ringer. Alec, too. Wasn’t right. Still...” He stopped chopping to lean back against their growing, neatly stacked pile. “I suppose if I’m ever going to get grandkids, sooner or later you’re gonna have to climb back on that horse.”
Mason winced. “If only it were that simple. And since when did you start wanting to be a grandpa?”
“I’m getting up in years. For that matter, so are you.” He resumed chopping. “Speaking from past experience, growing old alone isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“Then why don’t you find a good woman? And when you
do, then you can leave me alone.”
“Jerry, hon?” Fern poked her head out the front door. “You two want chili or tacos for dinner?”
“Hon?” Mason aimed a smile in his dad’s direction. “If I were you, I’d take that as a sign.” As for his own love life? Those days were long gone.
* * *
“WHAT’S WRONG WITH HER?” Hattie asked her dad, who was sorting his DVD collection. When he’d reported earlier that her mom was too sick to watch the twins, Hattie worried the rest of the day.
“Not sure.”
She removed her coat and boots to curl onto an end of the sofa. Strange how the room looked the same as it always had. Soothing blue walls covered in dozens of family pictures. Hand-crocheted doilies covering tabletops decorated with lamps and her mom’s many ballerina figurines. A stranger looking in would never suspect the tragedy their family was going through. “What are Mom’s symptoms?”
Rather than look at her, he studied the back cover of a DVD case. “Pretty sure she’s just tired.”
“But she loves caring for the girls.” Standing, she said, “I’ll talk to her.”
“Wish you wouldn’t.” Her dad abandoned his movie to block the hall.
“Okay, now you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“She’s having a hard time with this—we both are.”
“By ‘this,’ do you mean what happened to Melissa? Or are you talking about the will?”
After a sharp exhalation, he shook his head. “Leave it alone.”
“Okay. Sure.” Hattie had tired of crying, but the knot that had become all too familiar at the back of her throat made it difficult to breathe.
Though the last thing she wanted was to be distanced from her parents when she needed them most, Hattie abided by her father’s wishes and left the two of them alone.
* * *
“IT WAS AWFULLY nice of Fern and your dad to step in to help.” Hattie passed Mason the last of the plates to dry.
Vivian and Vanessa shared the playpen, alternating between gumming teething rings and each other. It was good for a change, seeing them not upset.
“With Fern watching the girls, Dad and I got a lot of wood cut.”
“Thanks.” The pain of her father’s rejection still stung, and though Hattie had held her emotions in check while sharing their meal with Jerry and Fern, she now felt dangerously near her breaking point. Not a good thing considering the meltdown she’d already had that morning at the grocery store. “I really appreciate your help. While you’re still in town, I need to get a new schedule established at the bar.”
“Sure. I’m happy to do whatever you need.”
Though his words were kind, as were his actions, Hattie couldn’t help feeling tension simmering between them. Despite the years between them, she still felt as if she knew him better than just about anyone—at least anyone other than Melissa. His shoulders were too squared for him to be relaxed. The set of his jaw too tight.
They finished washing and drying the dishes. While Hattie wiped down the counters, Mason brushed crumbs from the place mats Fern had set on the table.
“Look,” Hattie finally said, unable to bear a moment’s more tension, “about this morning at the store... I was—”
“Stop. I should’ve stayed out of your business.” He left the table, approaching her until he stood perilously close. “But I meant it, you know? Hat Trick, you’re a beautiful woman. One day, you’re going to make some lucky guy seriously happy.”
But not you?
After what she’d just been through with her dad, the last thing Hattie needed was Mason’s vacuous compliment. What he didn’t know—what he must never know—was that no matter how many guys she’d dated, none of them had ever meant more to her than him. Melissa had known it. Hattie was still furious with her for matchmaking via her will. That letter should’ve been a treasured keepsake, but instead, Hattie found her sister’s last words mortifying. Before losing her sister, Hattie’s life’s tragedy had been loving a man she could never have. It struck her as ironic that even with Melissa no longer in the picture, Mason was just as off-limits—not only because of her own conscience, but his clichéd “some lucky guy” declaration.
Covering her face with her hands, she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
“Hattie?” With his elbow, he delivered what she assumed he meant to be a playful nudge. The kind of gesture he’d made a hundred times when they’d been friends and later, when by law he’d technically been her brother. “I know this pouty look. What’s going on? With Fern and my dad here, I didn’t have the chance to ask if everything’s okay with your mom.”
She pitched the dishrag in the sink. “No. Things are far from okay with both of my folks. Though Dad wouldn’t give me specifics, I’m guessing Mom’s still freaking out about the will.”
“I’m sorry.” He drew her into a hug. The kind of friendly gesture they’d exchanged countless times.
His strength, his warmth, his mere presence meant more to her than he would ever know. She had to pull herself together. Grief was making her an emotional basket case when she’d always prided herself on being strong.
“A few months from now, when you’re settled into your new routine, I’ll bet things will be better.”
“Hope you’re right.” Hattie pressed her cheek against his impossibly toned chest. Her mother’s words had been so cruel, yet in the same respect, given the opportunity, would she not only kiss Mason, but more?
For the longest time, they stood together, bodies so close they’d become one. She allowed herself the weakness of letting him be the strong one, because she was tired of holding it all together when all she wanted was to fall apart.
She glanced up at him, at his dear lips. How long had she dreamed of holding him like this? Having him hold her? Hattie had been mortified by Melissa spilling Hattie’s most closely guarded secret about her crush on Mason. How embarrassing, but at the same time, liberating. For if all of her cards were already on the table, what did she have to lose by standing on her tiptoes, touching her lips to his for so brief a tantalizing second? She wasn’t sure she had actually kissed him at all. But then he groaned, easing his hand under the curtain of her hair, and suddenly what she’d meant to be a simple gesture turned very complicated, and he was kissing her, sweeping her tongue, chilling her yet warming her, until everything in the room vanished, save for him and the raw emotions their connection evoked.
“Oh, my God...” Just as shockingly as the kiss had begun, it ended. “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.”
“No, I’m sorry....” Her hands pressed to her swollen, still-tingling lips. Mortification didn’t come close to describing how deeply she regretted what had just transpired. “It’ll never happen again.”
“Of course. Shouldn’t have happened the first time.”
“Agreed.”
For an endless minute, they stood frozen. Just as well, considering Hattie didn’t have a clue where to go from here. She’d kissed her dead sister’s ex-husband. On the morality meter, she couldn’t get much lower.
“On a lighter note...” Mason rocketed to the other side of the kitchen. “Did you know that at six months, a baby’s brain will have already grown to half the size of an adult’s?”
In no mood for baby trivia, Hattie simply stared.
* * *
“YOU LOOK LIKE death warmed over.”
“Love you, too,” Hattie said to Clementine early the next evening upon arriving to tend bar for the rest of the night.
“Sorry, but are you getting enough sleep?”
Hattie’s only reply was a sad laugh.
“Wait—let me guess. Mason’s not helping out with the babies?”
“Guess again. Turns out he’s SEAL Nanny. When the twins are sleeping, h
e researches infant care online, then somehow assimilates it, only to brag about all he knows, which leads to making me feel guilty for all I don’t know.”
“Chin up.” Clementine took her purse from under the counter. “In a few weeks, Mason will be gone, and with any luck, you won’t have to deal with him again.”
“Guess you’re right.” What Hattie couldn’t share with her friend was that she feared Mason’s leaving was a big part of her problem. He’d already adopted the role of the twins’ primary caregiver. He could practically change a diaper one-handed and somehow managed feeding both girls their bottles at the same time. The guy was like a highly trained human octopus!
Clementine took her gloves from her purse. “I’m having a Halloween party next Saturday night. You and Mason wanna come?”
“Thanks, but I’m sure Mason would feel awkward around the old crowd and my mom’s acting weird, so I don’t know if she’d watch the twins. Plus, I really should be here. On any holiday, you know how it’s usually nuts.”
“Which is why Trevor and Rose have volunteered to cover for you. Come on—” she gave Hattie an elbow nudge “—say yes. It’ll be fun.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You have to at least take the babies to Wharf-o-Ween.” Hattie had forgotten about the town’s annual Halloween festival that was held on the wharf—hence the kooky name.
Hattie sighed. “I don’t know. We’d have to get costumes, and what if people talked? You know—like it’s too soon after losing Melissa to have her kids out partying?”
“So what if they do? Melissa might be gone, but the whole reason she left her girls with you is for them to live. Meaning the question you have to ask yourself is, what would she want you to do?”
* * *
A WEEK PASSED.
Mason wished he could shake the melancholy that had settled over Hattie, but they seemed to have fallen into a rhythm of orchestrated avoidance—at least on Hattie’s part.
Whenever he tried talking with her about anything more in depth than weather, she dashed off to her room—which made him crazy because he really needed to debrief. Compared to his usual workdays, caring for the twins was no big deal physically. What got to him was the mental game of sitting by himself all day every day. Sure, his dad and Fern dropped in occasionally, but other than them, he’d been pretty much left on his own.
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