Stowaway Angel

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Stowaway Angel Page 16

by Cheryl St. John


  “And so you did.”

  Charlie nodded. “Makes me sound gutless, doesn’t it?”

  “No. Makes you sound responsible. Kind probably.”

  “Yeah, well kind didn’t make for much of a marriage. I shouldn’t have married her for the wrong reasons. I cheated her out of something more.”

  “People get married for a lot less honorable reasons than that.”

  Charlie looked into the man’s blue eyes and read his understanding. He’d never spoken of this to another person and getting it off his chest felt right. “Anyway, what I was getting around to was that I didn’t think I had a right to feel anything for your daughter. I didn’t have anything to give.”

  “Now you do?”

  That brought him up short. Maybe he did. “I didn’t get her address or phone number because I didn’t want to have them and argue with myself whether or not to use them. And I was afraid.”

  “Women put the fear of God in you, that’s for sure.”

  “I don’t even know...if there’s someone else.”

  “All that and you could have just asked me if she had a boyfriend.”

  Charlie ran a hand down his face. And waited.

  “Not that I know of.”

  “She would tell you?”

  “She tells me pretty much everything. I didn’t exactly get all the details about her time here with you, but she has her right to privacy.”

  Charlie felt his neck get warm.

  Vince leaned to the side and reached into his back pocket.

  “I’ll get your dinner,” Charlie said quickly.

  “Thanks.” He pulled out his wallet and unfolded a scrap of paper. “Got a pen?”

  Charlie got up and fished a pen out of the cup beside the cash register. “Here.”

  On a napkin Vince copied an address and phone number, jotted down another number, then stuck the paper back into his wallet. He pushed the napkin across the table. “Don’t waste too much time arguing with yourself. Life is short.”

  Charlie took the white napkin and stared at the numbers and street address. “I can’t just call. What would I say?”

  Vince chuckled. “I can’t help you out there, boy.”

  What excuse did he have left? That she lived in Maine and he lived in Iowa? Long-distance relationships had been known to work.

  That she didn’t feel anything for him? Their time together had been a romantic fling and nothing more? Could be, but he couldn’t know for sure unless he stuck his neck out.

  That he couldn’t leave his daughter? It was summer vacation, and she was with Sean and Robyn for the rest of the week. If he asked, they would keep her longer.

  “I’m going to go to Maine,” he said.

  Vince finished his coffee. “I wrote my phone number on there, too. I’d like to know how it turns out.”

  “You won’t say anything about this?”

  “Nope.”

  They stood and grasped hands.

  “Thank you, Vince. For everything.”

  “I didn’t do anything ’cept give you her address.”

  “You did more than that.”

  He paid and walked Vince out into the sunshine. The man got into his truck, and gravel crunched under the tires as the big rig pulled away. Charlie stood watching the taillights disappear down the highway. Then he turned and got into the Jeep. He had to get online and buy plane tickets.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  LATER THE SAME night Charlie drove his rental car slowly past the Hidden Treasure restaurant. A neon sign with a treasure chest dripping jewels identified it. The interior was lit from within, revealing a considerable-size late-dinner crowd. Patrons filled the tables and a waitress carried a tray.

  He imagined walking inside. She would be there, somewhere. But a public restaurant and her place of work wasn’t the place to approach her.

  Charlie drove to a stretch of moonlit beach and pulled out his cell phone to check on Meredith.

  After speaking to her, he held the phone for a moment before shutting it off and placing it on the seat. He got out of the car and walked along the beach. He’d thought to wear loafers, thankfully, so he slipped them off and carried them. The sand, still warm from the sun, felt good on his soles.

  He was wired from the flight and he would never sleep tonight. He’d checked into a motel, but he couldn’t wait. He had to see her tonight.

  Loving Starla was the most unexpected thing he’d ever done. Coming here was the biggest risk he’d ever taken. He’d lived up to other people’s expectations his whole life, and it was past time to do something for himself—just because it felt right and because it was what he wanted.

  The breeze blowing across the ocean was cool and the air held a salty tang. The moon was a blue-white orb over the silvery water, the stars extending into eternity. What was a guy from the Midwest doing on a beach in Maine? He closed his eyes and listened to the roar of the surf. Foamy water curled around his ankles and soaked his pant legs. She loved it here.

  After a childhood of driving the highways of America, she’d chosen this as her home, a place where seafood was plentiful and her restaurant could flourish.

  If she did return his feelings, if there was any chance at all of them making something out of what they’d begun last Christmas, he could learn to love it here, too.

  But how could he take Meredith away from his parents? So much for going after what he wanted, he scoffed at himself, but they were her only grandparents.

  Could be it was just a dream, anyway. He didn’t have to worry about it now.

  Charlie walked along the beach, passing others who were out for a stroll, occasionally pausing to sit on an outcropping of rock and watch the silver-crested waves.

  He pushed the button on his watch to discover it was after ten. He’d checked the yellow pages and had seen that the Hidden Treasure closed at nine on weeknights.

  Back at the car, he brushed off his feet and slipped them back into his shoes, then got in and drove to the address he’d memorized.

  It was a small apartment building a few blocks from the beach, with a parking lot on the side. He parked across the street and stood away from the glare of a streetlight.

  He didn’t know what kind of car she drove. He didn’t know her schedule. He just assumed that eventually he would see her or that he’d have the guts to knock on her door. If it was a security entrance, he’d have to identify himself.

  Second thoughts about the wisdom of this trip plagued him. What if her father was wrong and there was a man? Just because they’d spent a few magical days together didn’t mean she felt squat for him. If she was in a relationship and he showed up, he could cause a problem for her.

  Feminine laughter reached him, and he focused his attention on two women walking from the corner, carrying bags and grocery sacks. They approached the door of the apartment building and the light over the doorway shone down on pale blond hair. Starla.

  Charlie’s heart pounded with indecision. But one thought stood out above all the others. No one would expect Charlie McGraw to do anything this impulsive. That woman was his choice.

  The fact gave him confidence and propelled him across the street and up onto the pavement near the door. Both women whirled in surprise at the sound of him running toward them.

  An expression of concern and mistrust immediately crossed the dark-haired one’s face.

  The other, Starla, wore an expression of amazed recognition. She shifted the bag in her arms.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.

  “What do you wa—” the dark-haired woman started to say, but Starla interrupted.

  “Charlie?”

  He took a few steps closer and nodded.

  “What are you doing here?”


  “Well...” His face warmed. He glanced at her companion in embarrassment. “I was in town...”

  Starla’s friend spoke up then. “I forgot something I have to do this evening. I’ll call you later.”

  Starla gave her a grateful smile and a hug. “Thanks, Geri.”

  After watching the young woman walk away, she turned her full attention on Charlie. “You weren’t in Beachtree, Maine. What are you up to? Is Meredith all right?”

  “She’s fine.” He jammed his hands into his pockets and admitted, “No, I wasn’t in town. I came to see you.”

  Starla seemed to collect herself. She found her keys and let Charlie take the grocery bag while she unlocked the door and led the way into the building.

  He followed her up a flight of stairs and waited for her to unlock another door. In her apartment, she turned on lights. She wore a sleeveless top and a soft flowing skirt with sandals, revealing golden tanned limbs, an ankle bracelet and a toe ring. Her silver blond hair was fastened back on both sides in a girlish style.

  Charlie glanced around, realizing how little he knew about this near-stranger. Her furniture was typical cottage style, with floral prints and a mixture of white wicker and old painted wood. He could see her living in a beach house one day.

  She had the life she wanted. Whenever she’d spoken of Maine and her restaurant, he had envied her the excitement in her voice. He was a country boy with a child to raise and a penchant for cheeseburgers and fries. What had he hoped she’d ever see in him?

  “I’m surprised to see you,” she said.

  “I’m surprised to be here.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “I saw your dad. He stopped at the Waggin’ Tongue when he was picking up a load of soybeans.”

  “He didn’t say anything.”

  “I asked him not to.”

  “Oh.” She gestured to her plump floral sofa. “Have a seat. I’ll make us something to drink. What would you like?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “Well, I need a minute in the kitchen alone.” She left the room and he heard water run. A minute later, the microwave dinged. She appeared with two mugs and sat one in front of him on the low wicker table. “It’s tea.”

  He remembered she didn’t drink coffee at night. His heart hitched into overdrive. He raised the mug to his lips and looked at her over the top of it.

  She perched on a nearby chair. “So Meredith’s fine, you said?”

  “She’s with Sean and Robyn. They went to Adventureland today.”

  “I get an email from your mom occasionally.”

  His mom had never said anything.

  A clocked ticked nearby, and Charlie glanced over to see a mock fireplace in distressed white wood. Inside the opening was a candelabra designed from driftwood. Shiny rocks and shells were scattered around it. “You have a nice place.”

  Starla had picked up her mug, but she set it down without taking a drink. Her heart felt as though she had run all the way home from work. Twice. Seeing Charlie had been such a surprise, a wonderful surprise, but this awkwardness that buffered them made her uncomfortable.

  He’d come to see her! She placed a hand to her chest.

  He wasn’t saying anything. Her eyes stung and she blinked.

  He looked so good. Tan and strong and his dark hair was clipped shorter than when she’d been at his home. He wore an ivory button-down shirt that emphasized his dark coloring and broad shoulders, and a pair of tan trousers. She’d never seen him in anything but jeans.

  “We could discuss the weather,” she said. “I assume you flew in, so I could ask about your flight. I don’t have to be anywhere until tomorrow morning.”

  It was meant to be a teasing remark, but Charlie got the point because the next thing he said was, “Do you have someone?”

  She blinked, uncertain of his meaning.

  “A boyfriend?”

  Well, that was certainly direct. “No,” she answered softly.

  “Is there any chance,” he began, “that you could feel something for me?”

  There it was, that rush of hope she’d tamped down for safety’s sake. She couldn’t take having her hopes raised, not when the chances of having what she

  really wanted were so slim. It took all her courage to say, “I feel something for you, Charlie, that was never in question.”

  His dark eyes brimmed with passion and uncertainty. He moved from the sofa to where she sat and knelt before her. Quite naturally, she reached out and laid her hand against his face, loving the well-remembered feel of his warm skin against her palm.

  He turned his face and pressed his lips against the skin, and that easily lit the fire inside her.

  “I felt something for you from the very first,” she admitted.

  “More than friendship?”

  It was a risky question. One that deserved a risky answer. “You had the love of your life, Charlie,” she admitted. “I could never have hoped to compare to that.”

  Those dark lashes came down over his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, she could see the regret. She was right not to hope, because he couldn’t love her the way she needed. He still loved his wife.

  “And I’m a selfish woman. I don’t want to play second fiddle to a memory.”

  Charlie made a sound then, something he turned into an uncomfortable clearing of his throat. When he reached up and took her hand away from his face and reached for her other hand, his strong fingers were trembling.

  “I want to tell you something. I’m afraid of what you’ll think of me, but it can’t be worse than what I’ve thought of myself for all these years.”

  “I’m listening, Charlie.”

  And she was...with her whole heart.

  And so he poured out his feelings about his wife, purged himself of the guilt and regret, all the while exposing his vulnerabilities and admitting his weaknesses.

  Starla listened, her heart aching for the misery he’d lived with. And as he talked, hope took root and blossomed inside her. She understood now, understood why he’d been so reluctant to talk about Kendra, why he’d clammed up and refused to share with her. All this had been festering on the inside of him.

  He wasn’t pining for his dead wife.

  And he’d felt guilty because of it.

  “You’re not a bad person,” she assured him.

  “I know that now. I just couldn’t get past it all or learn to deal with it until I met you. What I felt for you right away was so different, I was scared. It made everything else glaringly wrong. And I couldn’t admit that.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she told him. “You did the best you knew how.”

  “I want to promise that I can make things work out for us, but I still don’t know how.”

  “Nothing in life is guaranteed.”

  “We’re so different, you and I.”

  “Not all that different.”

  “I live on a country road in the middle of alfalfa and cornfields. You live near a beach and hear the foghorns at night.”

  “That’s just where we’re living, not who we are.”

  “Maybe it is.”

  She pulled her hands from his and framed his face. “It’s not. This is who we are.”

  And with that, she leaned forward and kissed him as she’d been dreaming of for the past six months.

  She kissed him until she was dizzy and deliriously happy at having him close. She pulled away enough to say, “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, Starla. I love you.”

  She cried against his lips, earnestly trying to control her emotions enough to get out the words to express her own feelings. “Cha-arlie,” she managed.

  “Say it aga
in.”

  “Charlie. I love you, Charlie.” And remembering what she’d heard him say to his daughter so many times, added, “With my whole heart.”

  He buried his face in her hair and hugged her so tightly she could barely breathe.

  As they sat on the couch, her head rested on his shoulder. “How is this going to work?” he asked, a dilemma on his heart still.

  “You and me? I think we have kissing down pretty good.”

  “I mean how can we be together? I’ve thought about it, and nothing I have is as important as you—except Meredith, of course. I can leave it behind and not look back, but I don’t know how to take her away from my folks.”

  She looked at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “Aw,” he said and sat up quickly. “I’m such a jerk.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Starla, will you marry me?”

  She got up on her knees and leaned forward to kiss him. “Yes.”

  They smiled into each other’s eyes in the semidarkness.

  “But I would never let you take Meredith away from your family. They’re important to her—and to you.”

  “Then how—”

  “That’s a no-brainer, Charlie. I’ll move to Elmwood. I love your home.”

  “But your restaurant. That’s your dream, and you’d have to leave it behind. You worked hard for it.”

  “You’re right, I did, and I love the place. But nothing about it has given me as much satisfaction as being your wife will. Ever since the opening, there’s been a hole inside me, a place where you belong.

  “I can sell it or I can keep ownership and let Geri and the staff run it. It wasn’t just the Hidden Treasure that was my goal. It was a place of my own, a place to call home and feel like I belonged. I felt like I belonged at your place, with you and among your family. That’s what I really dream of.”

  “You’ll miss the work. The cooking.”

  She thought a minute. “I can always open a place in Elmwood.”

 

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