A gentle tinkling of bells chimed in the air.
“Do you like my bells?” Stella Jones asked. “I just learned to do them myself. Calliope used to do them. I could do yours, too, if you want. But it would have to be next weekend because I get awfully busy with school.”
“Are they...” Hunter pushed forward to get a better look at the girls. “Are they trying to con my niece into going to school?”
“With Charlie, anything’s possible.” Kendall bit the inside of her cheek.
“Your uncle says you’re pretty smart,” Charlie was saying. “I bet you’re even smarter than Simon, and he gets to go to a supersmart school. Oh, there you go! See! The butterfly likes you!”
They watched Phoebe carefully cup her small hands around the insect and hold it up to the sky.
“Simon’s school is for gifted students,” Kendall explained. “From what I hear, he could be in the running to be a real-life supervillain genius. The kid was hacking computers just a few years ago. Luckily, his mother married the sheriff and put an end to his criminal reign. I think.”
“I should have come here years ago. This place is ripe with story potential.”
“Agreed.”
“Hey, careful.” Hunter caught her around the waist when she backed up into his space.
Kendall swallowed hard, gripped Hunter’s shoulder as she found herself mere inches from him. “Sorry.” Why did she always feel as if fireworks were happening whenever she was around him?
“Wouldn’t want to invade the friend zone.” Hunter smiled at her. A gentle hand came up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you for telling me about Sam, Kendall.”
All she could do was nod. She should move away. Before she forgot that bad things happened to people she cared about. Before he kissed her again. Before she kissed him. She licked her lips and tried to ignore how his arm had settled around her.
“That’s not playing fair,” he murmured as that hand shifted and he stroked his finger across his lips. “So when are we going to dinner?”
“Huh?”
“At the Flutterby. If I can find a babysitter for you know who, will you go with me?”
“Hunter.” She would have closed her eyes, would have lowered her chin, would have pulled free if his face wasn’t so fascinating. If she didn’t want to say yes so badly. Now Sam’s face flashed before her—smiling, encouraging, happy. He’d been safe. From the beginning with Sam she knew he was safe, that he’d never hurt her. That he’d always be there when she needed him. Supportive, kind, staid Sam.
But Hunter? Hunter was different. Kissing Hunter was like walking in a lightning storm, charged, tempting and uncertain of what would happen next.
“I’ll make you a deal,” she managed and tried to ignore that his skimming finger almost created sparks against her cheek. “You find a Phoebe-approved babysitter, and I’ll have dinner with you. But only if she’s Phoebe approved. Deal?”
Hunter grinned. “Deal.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HUNTER HAD BEEN staring at the cursor blinking on his laptop for the better part of an hour. The evil little digital gremlin was mocking him, demanding to know what made him think he could write a single word anyone else would want to read.
After Phoebe had gone to bed last night, he’d retreated into the motor home and developed the pictures he’d taken a few days ago. Those images, a good percentage of which featured Kendall, continued to spin in his head, bringing a smile to his face as he’d witnessed what made Butterfly Harbor so special to so many.
The fallen redwood had been hauled away in chunks. The new fence provided a protective barrier that eased a bit of Hunter’s apprehension and he’d learned that you could find some of the best food around on four wheels. By the end of the day, many things had become clear: he and Phoebe had been welcomed into the community without a second thought, and Phoebe, finally, had made some friends. He didn’t regret for a second accepting the job from Xander Costas. But if he was going to make the semi-permanent move to Butterfly Harbor, he had a lot of work to do. Beginning with getting this book proposal off his shoulders once and for all. If only he had a character, someone unique, someone different that people could relate to, perhaps be leery of, believe in. Someone like...
Movement out of the corner of his eye had him spinning in his chair. “Phoebe, what are you doing up?” He glanced at the clock. “It’s only five in the morning.”
She shrugged.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Yeah, he knew the feeling. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw, all he felt, was Kendall in his arms. Phoebe hugged a book against her chest, then held it out to him. “What’s this?”
“Will you read to me?”
His heart twisted. “Of course. You want me to read this book?”
Phoebe nodded, but uncertainty hovered on her little face.
“Now?”
She nodded again, grabbed his hand and tugged him over to the sofa. Nonexistent book proposal forgotten, Hunter let himself fall into Phoebe’s world. He sat down, a wave of love washing over him when Phoebe snuggled against him.
“You sure you aren’t hungry? You want breakfast—”
She tapped her fingers on the book, shook her head.
“Okay, here we go.” He flipped open the book and brushed his fingers over the note written on the title page. He cleared his throat. “‘For my Phoebe. My best and brightest girl. I will always be right over your shoulder. Love, Mom.’”
Phoebe hiccupped and Hunter took a moment to wrap his arm around her and press his lips to the top of her head. “She loved you so much, kiddo.” He squeezed his eyes shut to bank the tears. “So. Let’s do this, okay?
“Charlotte’s Web. Chapter One...”
* * *
WITH ONLY SOME of the paint she’d ordered for the lighthouse exterior waiting for her at the hardware store—she didn’t want to start until she had all she’d need—Kendall busied herself evaluating the original hardwood floor of the Liberty. Her initial cursory inspection had led her to believe she would have to replace the planks, but now she was thinking she would only have to pull up maybe a dozen or so on each level. She had plans to visit a maritime salvage yard to try to find old ship wood she could cut to size.
Thanks to Hunter’s hard work delving into the library archives, she’d been able to see photographs, grainy though they might be, of how the Liberty had looked more than a hundred years before. If she could restore it to that era, what great tourist appeal that might have. “Great. Now you’re starting to sound like Gil.”
She started toward the wrought iron spiral staircase, ran her hand around the rusted spots she’d be tackling soon. Boy, this place was going to look amazing when it was finished.
A knock on the door had Kendall calling out, “Yeah! Come on in!” She removed the pencil from her mouth when she saw Calliope enter, a gigantic, overflowing basket tucked in the crook of her arm.
Today’s dress was the color of ripe oranges—not a color most people, especially redheads, could pull off, and yet the swirling dress suited her to perfection.
“Morning,” Kendall said.
“Afternoon,” Calliope corrected with a small smile. “Losing track of time again, I see?”
“Uh, yeah.” Kendall frowned and walked over to the window that overlooked the carriage house. She hadn’t seen a sign of Hunter or Phoebe this morning. “Afternoon? Really?” Was everything okay with them?
“Really. I hope you don’t mind, but I brought all of you more food. I understand Phoebe is a big fan of vegetables? Stella filled me in last night.”
“Kid’s a regular rabbit.” Kendall shuddered. “No offense to your bounty, but I can only eat so many carrots before I want to start hopping.”
“Which is why I brought cucumbers and cauliflower this time. You know...” Calliope walked the perimeter of the room,
drawing her finger along the wide mantel of the stone hearth situated against the wall that connected the tower to the keeper house. “I haven’t been here since I was a girl. It’s exactly how I remember it.”
“I hear you told Hunter the legend. You don’t really believe...” Kendall trailed off, remembering who she was talking to. “Never mind. Of course you do.”
“The Liberty has helped many hearts find one another,” Calliope said. “To make up for the one that was lost. I would think you of all people would understand that.”
“Me of all people,” Kendall repeated and got out her tape measure.
“Xander might have mentioned how happy you looked the other day. I’m sorry, not just Xander. I also spoke to Abby this morning and Lori when I stopped by the Flutterby. They had some very nice things to say about Hunter, as well.”
“Well, sure, Hunter I can understand.” The guy just radiated positivity, while she might as well have been the grumpy old lighthouse keeper from some scary black-and-white movie. “Don’t read anything into it, Calliope. Really, it’s nothing.”
“But how is your heart feeling these days, Kendall?”
“My heart?”
“It’s been heavy for a while. A long while.” Calliope turned to her, inclined her head in that way she had that made Kendall suspect Calliope could see her soul. “I don’t feel that from you anymore. You seem...lighter.”
“Busier, maybe.” Talking about Sam with Hunter was one thing. It was a safe topic with a built-in “don’t cross this line.” But she wasn’t up to talking about her feelings with anyone else. Not even the perceptive—if not sympathetic—Calliope. “I have a lot to do before I move on.”
“Ah.” Calliope sighed. “So that’s what I see hovering. You’re planning to leave us, even though you don’t want to.”
“It’s not a matter of want. And this isn’t fair. I can’t stay here, Calliope.” She pushed the words out beyond the doubts she felt. “Things are getting too complicated. Too busy. Too—”
“Intimate?” Calliope finished for her. “Yes, building a new life, making new friends, falling in love again. I can imagine that’s scary for you. No wonder you want to run away.”
Anger sparked low in her belly. “I’m not running away.” And she was not falling in love.
“Aren’t you? Word is Gil wants to hire you to restore more buildings in town. Structures that need a kind, understanding, logical touch. That would mean stability for you for quite a while, Kendall. And yet you haven’t accepted.”
“Because I can’t stay.” Why was she having this conversation? With Calliope Jones Costas? The only person she owed any explanation to was Matt, and even he had understood when they’d discussed it. Well, he’d mostly understood. And how had Calliope found out about that offer, anyway?
“You can do whatever you want to do, Kendall.” If anything, Calliope’s voice only gentled further. “But I wonder when this idea to leave first presented itself. If I had to put my finger on it, I’d say it was when a certain man and his adorable niece arrived in town.”
“Now you’re crossing a line. This is my business, Calliope. Mine.” Kendall didn’t want to lose her temper, but the irritation began to bubble. “I know what I need. And I know what I...don’t.” The door of the carriage house burst open and Phoebe raced out, black curls bouncing and swirling around her head, the bright yellow unicorn shirt she wore glowing beneath the sun. Kendall found herself smiling in spite of herself, wanting to laugh at the joy she saw on Phoebe’s face as she dived onto the swing Kendall had made for her. And she gasped at the sound of the little girl’s laughter dancing on the wind. The anger faded as her heart split into two. In the time it took her to breathe, she knew the truth. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what?” Calliope asked, a gentle hand coming to rest on Kendall’s shoulder. “Love again?”
The idea of loving Hunter, loving that little girl, of opening herself up to the possibility of losing her, losing anyone again—it would end her. “Everyone I’ve ever loved has died, Calliope. And with such pain and violence they’ve left a hole inside me. My grandparents, my parents. My friends in the army. Sam.” Her breath hitched. “Don’t ask me to try to fill that hole, Calliope. Not when all I’ll bring someone is excruciating pain.”
“Oh, my friend.” Calliope wrapped her arms around her and held on tight. “You’ve never brought me any pain. Irritation, perhaps. Annoyance, certainly. And having you here has helped Matt heal parts of himself he didn’t realize were bruised. You’ve made a home here, Kendall. Whether you want to admit it or not. Lori needs you. Kyle needs you. Holly, Abby, Luke, Ozzy, they all need you, too, and those never-stay-put-for-a-minute seniors in the Cocoon Club who believe you’re a remodeling genius.You’re a part of this place now. Running away won’t do anyone any good except prevent you from ever moving beyond your loss.”
Her loss. It sounded so...selfish. As if she was the only person in the world who had ever lost someone she loved. She’d always worried what would happen to Sam if she had been killed; how could she not when they were soldiers fighting in a war? But never once had it crossed her mind to ask the opposite. Never once did she think she’d be the one left behind. And now, years later, she still couldn’t see beyond that loss, a loss that thousands of people survived every day. Transformed forever, changed forever, but they went on. And they lived. Somehow, some way, they found a way to live.
“The universe doesn’t put anything in front of us that it doesn’t believe we can’t handle,” Calliope whispered. “It’s not a coincidence these two people arrived when they did, Kendall. But not because you were ready, because they were. Yes, I believe these two can help heal wounds even you don’t see, but have you ever stopped to think that maybe you could heal theirs?”
Tears choked her, and she shook her head. “Who would want me to—”
“Maybe there’s been help from the beyond. It’s time you accept that no matter how much you wish it to be otherwise, you are most certainly loved. Unconditionally. And there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.”
* * *
HUNTER DIDN’T HEAR the knock on the door. From the moment he’d turned the last page on Charlotte’s Web, he knew what he had to write. The idea, the character, had exploded, full bore, in his head and formed as he’d held a sobbing Phoebe in his arms.
Kendall had been right. His niece had been stuck, with half a broken heart hanging in the balance. Until she knew the rest of the story, there was no healing possible. He couldn’t remember Phoebe ever crying this much. This deeply. This painfully. So painfully her agony had seeped into him. The tighter he’d held her, the more she’d sobbed, but eventually, the pain eased. Phoebe quieted, and she’d gone lax in his arms, still cuddled into him as if it was the only place she felt safe. He didn’t know if she’d fallen asleep. It didn’t matter. The minutes, the hours ticked by until she sat up, gave him a hug, then scrambled off to get dressed for the day.
“Wait!” Hunter bent down to pick up the book that had fallen to the floor. “Don’t you want this?”
Phoebe froze, her eyes narrowing and then widening as her smile did. She pivoted and pointed to the bookcase next to his desk. Then she’d raced into her bedroom and closed the door.
And so he’d placed that book on the top shelf, between his own beloved copies of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and The Stand. He’d fixed her scrambled eggs and sliced tomatoes, had toast and peanut butter himself, then, as she darted outside to play on her swing, he’d sat down at his desk.
And began to write.
His fingers flew over the keyboard, possessed by the idea of a woman who spent years mired in grief, blaming herself, cutting herself off from everything that had happened around her. A woman who threw herself into a life she’d never expected to live and with a child she never expected to have as the wind and rain and storms battered the home that by d
efault, had become hers. The lady of Liberty Lighthouse sang to him, cried to him and settled inside him with an ease and satisfaction that soothed the swirling emotions he couldn’t begin to sort through. He knew who she was; he knew how she felt. She was him. She was Phoebe. She was...
She was Kendall.
“Hunter?”
He jumped in his chair as her hand landed on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry.” Her laugh lightened his heart. “You didn’t answer when I knocked so I came on in. I hope that’s—Oh!”
He leaped to his feet and swept her into his arms, lowering his mouth to hers before he could think it through. Never mind the friend zone, she’d turned on every light in his darkened soul, and he was never going to stop trying to thank her for it. “I got it.”
“Got what? Whatever it is, don’t give it to me.”
He was holding her feet off the ground, his arms tight around her waist as she linked her hands behind his head. She pressed her forehead against his, an odd and unfamiliar look of peace on her face when she whispered the question.
“The story. The character. It’s there. All there. In my head. And it’s because of you.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You are so wrong. Do you know what Phoebe and I did this morning?”
She shook her head.
“We read Charlotte’s Web. By the way, Charlotte dies in the end. Are you kidding me?”
Kendall winced, her lips twitching. “Oh, I probably should have warned you about that.”
“No, no, you shouldn’t have. It opened the floodgates, Kendall. Phoebe, she’s different. She’s...happy. Look? She asked me to put it away. She’s not going to drag it around with her anymore. She’s moved beyond it. Just like you said she would.”
“I suggested. There was no guarantee.”
“Sure, but I’m not going to ask for everything at once. She cried, Kendall. She cried for her mom and her dad and everything in between. And then she ran off like a typical little girl, got dressed and went out to play.” He kissed her again because he needed to. And because she seemed to need him to. “You are amazing.”
Safe in His Arms--A Clean Romance Page 15