If I Didn't Know Better

by Barbara Freethy

"Five."

  "Big family."

  She nodded. "I'm the youngest and I have a twin sister. Kate just finished training to be an FBI agent, so she's pretty busy."

  "FBI? That's impressive. What's her focus?"

  "I have no idea. Everything seems to be classified. Kate has always been more adventurous than me. She would have had no hesitation climbing down a ladder," she added with a self-deprecating smile.

  He smiled as he said, "What do the rest of your siblings do?"

  "They're all pretty much over-achievers. Dylan and Hunter are firefighters. Firefighting is a tradition in the Callaway family. My father is a retired firefighter, and my uncle is second-in-charge of the San Francisco Fire Department. I also have a bunch of cousins in the department."

  "You didn't want to fight fires?"

  She laughed at that suggestion. "Not in a million years. I try not to even think about how much danger my family could be in any time they get a call."

  "What about the other siblings?"

  "Ian is a scientist. Don't ask me what he does, because it's also classified for me to know about. My sister Annie is a graphic designer, and she has been building websites and brands for companies the past few years. She's starting to get in with a celebrity crowd, which is fun." She paused. "What about you? Do you come from generations of soldiers?"

  "No, I'm the first, and I'm an only child."

  "What about parents? Do they live here in Angel's Bay?"

  "My father does."

  At his words, Ashlyn's head swung in her father's direction for the first time.

  Jeremy jolted, as if surprised by the sudden eye contact.

  "Has Ashlyn met her grandfather?" Mia asked.

  "No, not yet." His lips tightened as his daughter gave him a long stare. "He's away right now."

  Ashlyn didn't react, but after a moment her gaze swung back to Mia.

  Mia wanted to say something to the little girl, but she wasn't sure what.

  Then a text popped up on her phone.

  "It's the locksmith," she said, getting up from her chair. "He's next door. Thanks for the pizza and getting me off the roof."

  "No problem," Jeremy said, as he stood up.

  She gave Ashlyn a smile. "I hope to see you again soon. Maybe when I get my aunt's house organized, we can make some cookies. I'm a really good baker."

  Ashlyn didn't speak but gave her a shy nod.

  "Take that as a yes," Jeremy advised.

  "I will. Thanks again, Jeremy. I owe you one."

  "You don't owe me anything." He paused, his gaze turning to his daughter. "Ash, I'm going to walk Mia to her house. I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?"

  "You don't have to walk me out," she protested, but Jeremy was already ushering her down the hallway, and Ashlyn was right behind him.

  "I just want to make sure you get in all right. I don't want to have to rescue you again," he said.

  "I think I'll be fine."

  "And I think we're all going to make sure of that," Jeremy said, as he and Ashlyn walked her across the lawn.

  The locksmith, Richard Cummings, was waiting on the porch. He was a bearded, middle-aged man with a friendly smile.

  "You're Carly's niece." He shook her hand with a warm smile. "It's nice to meet you, even though it's under terrible circumstances. I can't believe Carly is gone. It still seems like a bad nightmare."

  She felt the same way. "Yes, it does. You knew my aunt?"

  "Oh, sure. She was a delight—always smiling and friendly. She could tell a smutty joke, too, like a real broad. She's going to be missed."

  His words sent a wave of pain through her body. "She will be missed," she echoed, feeling the depth of the loss once again.

  "Ah, now, I've made you sad. I'm sorry," he added quickly. "My wife always says I don’t pay enough attention to what I'm saying."

  "It's fine. You didn't say anything wrong. I get emotional about my aunt every time I think about her. I'm hoping that taking care of her things will be healing."

  "I hope so, too. Is this your husband and child?" Richard asked.

  "No," she said immediately, reminded that in Angel's Bay, people liked to get into other people's business. "This is my neighbor Jeremy Holt and his daughter Ashlyn. They were keeping me company until you came."

  "Sure, I heard about you from Kent," Richard said with an approving nod. "You're the war hero."

  Jeremy gave an awkward shrug at Richard's words.

  "What did you do?" she asked Jeremy, a little more curious about him now.

  "My job," Jeremy replied.

  "He rescued a lot of people," Richard said. "Kent said Jeremy here saved his life."

  "We saved each other many times. So, can you get Mia into her house?" Jeremy asked. He was obviously eager to change the subject away from himself.

  "Absolutely." Richard turned his attention back to the lock. Within minutes, he had the door open. "There you go."

  "Thank you so much," she said. "I don't know why my mom's key didn't work."

  "The lock was warped. This will work for tonight, but why don't I change all the locks for you tomorrow and give you a new set of keys?"

  "That would be great."

  "I'll come by in the morning, unless you're going to be out tonight and will need to get back in?"

  "No, tomorrow is good for me. Thank you for coming out after hours."

  "No problem. I'll see you soon. You all have a good night."

  As the locksmith left, she stepped into the house. She turned on the lights, happy that her mom had made to sure to keep the utilities paid until they could get the house cleaned out.

  She took a deep breath as she walked through the entry and into the living room. It was more cluttered than she remembered. She could barely take it all in.

  There wasn't an inch of wall space that wasn't covered by a painting or a decorative piece of artwork, and the tables were filled with vases, bowls, small statues, and framed photographs as well as numerous books and magazines on art and interior design. One armchair was filled with fabric swatches that made Mia wonder if her aunt had been planning to redecorate.

  "You weren't kidding when you said your aunt had a lot of stuff," Jeremy commented.

  She hadn't realized that he and Ashlyn had followed her inside. "I didn't think it would be this much," she confessed. "I remember the house being neater, although my aunt traveled a lot in recent years, and she always had some new project she was working on. I guess organizing and cleaning fell to the bottom of the list."

  Ashlyn wandered over to an antique chair that held a beautiful doll with a porcelain face and a flowing white dress that had yellowed with age. But the doll's face was exquisitely pretty, with what appeared to be almost real lashes over the bright blue eyes. Ashlyn reached out to touch the doll, and then abruptly put her hand back into her pocket, flashing Mia a guilty look.

  "It's okay," she said quickly, wondering if Ashlyn felt guilty for almost touching the doll or for forgetting that she wasn't supposed to be interested in anything. "My aunt used to tell me that dolls were meant to be played with." She walked across the room and picked up the doll. "And this doll needs a friend. She'll be lonely now that my aunt isn't here anymore. Could you keep her company?"

  Ashlyn stared back at her with indecision in her eyes. Then she slowly took her hands out of her pockets and accepted the doll. She sat down in the chair and held it awkwardly in her lap, as if she wasn't sure what to do now that she had it.

  Mia looked away, sensing Ashlyn was more uncomfortable with the attention she was getting from her and Jeremy than she was with the doll.

  Jeremy mouthed, "Thank you."

  She nodded and drew in a breath as she turned her gaze back to the room. "This is going to be a big job."

  "I'll say," he agreed. "This one room alone will take you a dozen boxes and at least a few hours."

  "I'm almost afraid to look at the rest of the house."

  "Well, just remember what you said…"r />
  "What's that?"

  "What could be better than summer in Angel's Bay?"

  She smiled. "Good point. I just have to take it one step at a time."

  "Or one weird statue at a time." He picked up what appeared to be a goat with a hat on its head. "What on earth is this?"

  "I'm not sure, but I'll find out. Aunt Carly knew the difference between valuable pieces and junk." At least, she hoped her aunt had known the difference.

  "We should go and leave you to it."

  "Okay." She was almost sorry to see them leave, but she'd come to Angel's Bay to sort out not only her aunt's house but also her life. She needed to focus on that and not the sexy man next door and his adorable and wounded daughter. She needed to fix her own life, not theirs. She walked them out the door, grabbed her suitcase out of her car and took it back into the house.

  Bypassing the living room, she headed upstairs. Her aunt's bedroom was the first door on the left. She glanced inside but didn't feel ready to go in there yet. There would be a lot of emotions in that room, and she wasn't ready for those. She continued down the hall to the guest room she'd used as a teenager.

  It was also crammed with stuff. She swept piles of clothes off the bed, changed the linens, and then put on her PJs and climbed under the covers with the odd feeling that she'd come home.

  * * *

  It was almost midnight when Jeremy turned off the television in the living room and got up with a yawn and a stretch of his stiff limbs. He'd felt both tired and restless since he'd left Mia's house. After Ashlyn had gone to bed, he'd tried to distract himself with a baseball game and surfing the Internet. Neither had really worked. His mind kept returning to the pretty blonde with the most amazing blue eyes and a smile that made him feel like he'd just come in from the cold.

  Mia had blown into his life like a gust of refreshing wind. She talked a lot, but she was friendly, kind, and candid about her personal flaws, and he liked her down-to-earth, unpretentious attitude a little too much.

  He was supposed to be focused on his daughter, on rehabbing his shoulder, on getting his life together. He couldn't allow himself to be derailed by a woman, no matter how attractive she was.

  As he walked across the room to turn off the lights, he couldn't help thinking how empty and bare this house was in comparison to the one next door. While he'd tried to make Ashlyn's room cheerful and bright, he hadn't bothered to change anything in the rest of the house, and most of the furniture was beige or black, with no personality. The house had been furnished to be a serviceable rental, and it was comfortable enough, but it didn't feel like a home.

  Then again, did he even know what home felt like? It had been a long time since he'd lived in any house that felt like a home.

  He walked up the stairs and opened the door to Ashlyn's bedroom. Taking a quiet step into the room, he saw that she was asleep. She was a tiny figure in the middle of the double bed, but tonight she had a friend with her—the old doll Mia had given to her.

  The sight of that doll with its tattered yellowed dress and cracked porcelain face brought mixed emotions. He was happy that Ashlyn had found something she liked, but he didn't understand why she'd chosen this doll over the brand new ones he'd given her, the ones that had been tossed in a heap in the bedroom closet.

  For some reason, this doll felt like a rejection of him and an acceptance of Mia, a woman Ashlyn had met hours earlier. What was that about?

  He had to admit he felt a little jealous at the connection Ashlyn had made with Mia. He'd been working his ass off trying to get his daughter to look at him, to talk to him, with no results, and then Mia showed up, and his kid suddenly was interested in life again.

  Whatever works, he told himself; the important thing was that Ashlyn had found something to care about. It was a step in the right direction.

  He was about to leave the room when Ashlyn began to mutter and kick at the covers. Hesitating, he wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want to wake her and scare her. But he also wanted to comfort her.

  He was halfway to the bed when she sat up straight and let out a piercing scream, her eyes flying open.

  His heart jumped into his throat. Since he'd picked her up from foster care, he'd barely heard her voice above a whisper, so the shrill sound shook him to the core. And it wasn't just the volume; it was also the raw fear in the scream that made him rush to her side.

  He tried to put his arms around her, but she pushed him away and scooted back against the head of the bed, staring at him as if he were a monster, but there was a glaze over her eyes that made him wonder if she was seeing him at all.

  "It's okay, Ashlyn. You're just having a bad dream," he said in a quiet, firm voice.

  She didn't even blink.

  "You're safe. I'm here. I'm taking care of you. No one will hurt you, baby."

  He didn't know if he was getting through at all, but as the seconds ticked by, her breath started to come more evenly. Her eyes focused on his face as she came fully awake.

  He let out a breath, feeling as if he'd just dodged a bullet.

  Then she shocked him when she said, "I want Mommy."

  His heart broke at the anguish in her eyes, the plea for him to give her the only thing she really wanted—her mother.

  "I know you want your mom. I wish she could be here, too." He spoke slowly, trying to choose his words carefully. He didn't know how to explain death to a child, and he didn't want to make things worse. But she was looking to him for answers, and he had to give her something. "We're going to be okay—you and me," he continued. "I know it doesn't seem like that right now, but we'll get to know each other. I think you might like me if you give me a chance."

  He swallowed hard, her stare challenging and unnerving. He'd never wanted to meet someone's expectations more than he did now.

  "I'm going to take care of you," he said. "You'll be safe with me, because I will never ever let anyone hurt you. That's a promise, Ashlyn. When I make a promise, I keep it."

  She blinked twice, and then slowly got back under the covers. She reached for her doll and hugged it tightly against her chest. The doll was almost as big as she was.

  He tucked the covers around her body and said, "Every day will get easier, Ash. We've spent a lot of time getting set up here, but we'll start having fun. We'll go to the beach and surf the waves. Have you ever gone bodysurfing? It's fun. And there are some great bike trails that go along the beach. We can explore them together. It's going to be good. This is going to work."

  As he said the words, he felt a bit desperate to convince not only Ashlyn but also himself. He was sailing in uncharted territory, but he was not going to go under. Failure wasn't an option. Not with this relationship. It was the most important relationship of his life.

  He wanted to kiss Ashlyn's cheek, smooth her hair, but he was afraid if he touched her, he'd unsettle her again. So he just kept talking in a soothing voice about what they could do in town. As he spoke about the charms of Angel's Bay, he realized that he'd chosen a good place to start over. The town had bored him as a teenager, but as a child he'd loved exploring the beach, the hidden caves, taking bike rides, flying kites, and participating in any number of somewhat cheesy festivals and events that the town liked to put on.

  "We're going to be all right," he said again as Ashlyn's eyes closed.

  He watched her for another ten minutes, and then he got up and walked out of the room.

  He left the door of her room ajar to make sure he could hear her if she needed him again. He couldn't believe she'd actually spoken three words in a row. It was just heartbreaking that those words had been "I want Mommy".

  He wished he could give her mother back to her. He wished he could go back to doing what he knew how to do, but it wasn't only Ashlyn's appearance that made that impossible, he thought, rolling his shoulder back with a painful wince. He still had to get his shoulder back into the shape it had once been in.

  As he walked into his own room, he hoped that tomorrow would
be better, but he didn't know if he believed that any more than Ashlyn did.

  Four

  Mia woke up Tuesday morning, feeling refreshed and eager to take on the day. The locksmith rang her bell just after eight and within the hour had changed the locks on every door and given her a new set of keys to use.

  After making coffee and grabbing a granola bar, one of the few snacks she'd brought with her, she walked through the sliding glass doors that led from the family room into the backyard. A horseshoe-shaped brick patio held a large, round glass table with a bright umbrella overhead and six chairs.

  Beyond the patio were a grassy area and a rocky path that led to a two-story cottage, whose walls were covered with ivy. The cottage sat at the edge of a bluff that looked over the Pacific Ocean. The view was spectacular and always took her breath away.

  She wandered across the patio and grass to the waist-high back fence and looked out at the sparkling turquoise sea. The waves were wild on this part of the coast and the white water splashing against the huge boulders below was intense and somewhat mesmerizing. It was nature in all its glory, and she felt a wave of intense emotion at the churning waves, the constant pull of the tide that came in and went out, reflecting the turbulent feelings within herself.

  She'd been churning inside for weeks, and she'd let herself get pushed around in dizzying circles. But she wasn't helpless. She didn't have to go with the tide. She could fight back. She could find her own path. She just had to do it.

  Looking at the horizon, she felt more inspired than she had in a long time. This was the same view that had called her aunt to explore the world, and while she wasn't itching to get in a boat or on a plane, she was yearning to start something new, to find a way to be herself and be successful, too.

  She would figure it out, she thought, but first things first. Looking away from the view, she wandered around the yard. The rose garden was dying with the drought of summer, the hot sun, and no loving hands to tend the earth.

  Someone must have come by and mowed the lawn, as it didn't look particularly overgrown. Maybe her aunt had a gardener come by to do the basics. She'd have to look into that.