“Let me guess. Someone got to go to the bookstore today.” He held the book out to read the title. “The Wizard of Oz. Very cool. You going to start reading now or wait until after your sleepover?”
“She’s going to wait,” Kendall said. “We decided it was better for her to be with her friends rather than reading on her own, right, Phoebe?”
Phoebe nodded, but Hunter didn’t think she was entirely convinced.
“You look nice.” The surprise in Kendall’s voice had him grinning.
“Yeah? Thanks. I have a date tonight. A first date.” He nuzzled Phoebe’s neck, and she broke out in giggles. His heart swelled. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of hearing that sound. “And yes, I know. I’m early.”
“Very.” Kendall glanced down at her watch. “By about three hours. I was going to—” She pointed behind her, out the door to the lighthouse.
“Get some more work done before we go? That’s fine. I’m going to get a jump on those photos I took today. I’ll come get you in about two and a half hours, and we can drop off Phoebe on our way.”
“Sounds good. I’ll, um, see you later.”
She backed out of the cottage with such an odd expression on her face. He followed, leaving Phoebe flipping through pages so fast she almost dropped the book.
Instead of heading for the lighthouse, Kendall was hurrying back toward town. Just before she was out of his sight, she began to run.
* * *
“I NEED YOUR HELP.” Kendall was bent over, hands planted on her knees as she dragged in ragged breaths. She thought she was still in shape given all the physical labor she did, but the nine-block race to Frankie Bettencourt’s cottage off Windmark Way had nearly done her in.
Frankie lounged in the doorway, grungy sweats and a tank top draping her body, a half-eaten ice cream bar in one hand. “What’s up?”
“I need clothes.”
Frankie snorted. “I don’t have anything much different than—”
“Nice clothes. Something...not this.” She waved her hand up and down her body now that her pulse was calming down. “Do not make me go all girlie on you, Frankie. This is humiliating enough. I have a date.”
Frankie grinned. “Do you now? The hot photographer guy? Caught a good glimpse of him the other day when I was working on the fence. He asked you out?”
“Obviously, since I’m standing here begging you to let me look in your closet. This is the extent of anything I own.”
“Everything you own fits in a duffel bag. Yeah, yeah. Come on.” She stepped back and waved her in. “Just excuse the mess, please.”
What mess? Kendall saw a well-lived-in home with knickknacks and mementos and photographs on the wall. Sure, there were a few filled laundry baskets on the sofa and the coffee table had a few more dishes on it than were in the kitchen sink, but nothing about this place showed Frankie to be a slob.
“How does he look?” Frankie steered Kendall to the back bedroom, then pushed her to sit on the mattress. Frankie stuck her ice cream in her mouth and flung open her closet doors. She tossed the now-empty stick into the trash can by the bed. “Other than good. ’Cause that’s a man who always looks good.”
“Have you ever met a man you didn’t like?”
Frankie smiled over her shoulder and waggled her auburn-tinted eyebrows. “Nope.”
“He’s wearing black. All black. And a tie.” And yes, Kendall admitted. He’d looked really, really good. “I don’t want anything fancy. We’re just eating at the Flutterby. I just don’t want to look like this.”
“Right. So color. Not too bright. Don’t want to completely shock your system.” Frankie sorted through the hangers. Kendall stared. Did most women own this many clothes? Her friend was right—everything Kendall owned could fit in her duffel. One of those things she’d learned in the army was to be frugal with space. “Blue’s a bit too black. Hmm.” Frankie pulled out a wraparound dress in a rich, deep purple. “This could work. Try it on.”
“What? Here?”
“Yes, here.” Frankie handed the dress to her.
“What about shoes? I can’t wear these.” Kendall kicked out her legs to show off her boots.
“No kidding. I think I have something here that will work.”
“No heels. I can’t stand them, and besides, we’re going to be walking.”
“Wow. Someone save me from a woman who won’t wear heels. Fine. Flats it is.”
While Kendall swept her tank over her head and wiggled out of her jeans after unlacing her boots, Frankie dive-bombed her closet, crawling around and launching shoes over her shoulder like unaimed missiles. Kendall only had to duck twice.
“These!” Kendall caught a simple black ballet slipper, checked the size. “Might be a little snug.”
“You never know. You’ve been walking around in those clodhoppers for too long. Let’s see the purple dress.”
Half an hour later, they decided on a simple flower-print dress with a high neck but a drape in the back that went just south enough for Kendall not to worry.
“What are you doing with your hair?”
“Brushing it.” Kendall wiggled back into her clothes.
“Typical. Here.” Frankie rummaged through the collection of hair bobs and such on her dresser and dropped some into a small cosmetic bag along with some simple makeup. “Take these. Leave your hair down, but clip it up on one side. Don’t overdo it on the blush. Keep it simple. Powder, eyebrows... Boy, if you have a few extra minutes, you should really tweeze—”
“No, I don’t.” And even if she did, she wouldn’t surrender to Frankie Bettencourt and a pair of tweezers.
“’Kay. We’ll save that for another time. Ah, lipstick. Let’s go with a subtle pink. Nothing too glossy. Makes for weird kissing.”
“There won’t be any kissing.”
Frankie looked offended. “Then what’s the point? I bet he’s a great kiss—Oh, ho! You already know that, don’t you? I see that look on your face. Go, Kendall.”
“There’s no look, and stop that.” Kendall laughed. So this is what girlfriends are for. No. Her heart pinched. This was what friends were for. “Thank you, Frankie. This means a lot.”
“For me, too.” Frankie gathered up the dress, shoes and makeup and headed out to get her a bag. “Just one request.” She stopped Kendall on the porch before she left.
“Sure.”
“Report back. I’ve been going through a serious dry spell lately, so I need to live vicariously through someone. Let me know how your date goes.”
“Provided it goes okay, yeah. I will.”
“Great. Have fun. And be safe!”
“Frankie!”
“Crossing the streets.” Frankie went wide-eyed innocent, yet that twinkle in her eye was anything but. “Just enjoy and have a good time.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“WOW.” HUNTER WOULD have fallen over at the sight of Kendall if Phoebe hadn’t been holding his hand. He’d always thought her beautiful, even with all those sharp edges of hers, but the blue dress accented with a punch of white-and-yellow flowers softened her completely. He blinked. He’d always known she had legs, but he hadn’t realized she had legs. Thank goodness she didn’t dress like this every day, otherwise he’d never get any work done. “You look gorgeous. What do you think, Phoebe?”
Phoebe nodded and patted her hand against her heart.
“Thank you both.” Kendall ducked her head and tucked her hair behind her ear, then she stopped, flipped the hair free again and laughed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”
“Because you’re doing something you haven’t done in a very long time.” Hunter held out his hand. “I’m nervous, too.” But most of those nerves settled when she slipped her hand into his.
Phoebe jumped up and down, her book bag bouncing against her back.
“Shall we escort you to your sleepover, my lady?” Hunter bowed down to his niece, who giggled up at him.
“I hope she has everything she needs,” Kendall said as she closed the door behind her and they headed down the hill to Calliope’s farm. “Charlie’s loaning her a sleeping bag. We weren’t sure if she had one?”
“We don’t. Not yet. But I’ll add it to the list.” His growing list. Sticking around Butterfly Harbor and accruing more stuff meant maybe he and Phoebe should be thinking about a larger place. He’d mention it to Xander. It was strange. He didn’t have any second thoughts. No doubts. For the first time in almost a year, this felt like the right move. No question.
As they reached Calliope’s, Phoebe was once again pulling on Hunter’s hand. He was about to tell her to slow down when he saw three little girls race out Calliope’s front door and head for the gate. Pigtailed, overall-clad Charlie, whimsical, ethereal Stella, and staid, practical Marley with her razor-sharp brown hair and equally sharp eyes. He let go of his niece and he and Kendall stepped back.
“Phoebe!” Charlie yelled before she popped open the gate and the group of girls surrounded her as if they were playing ring-around-the-rosy. Phoebe turned in circles, laughing until they all fell down.
“She’s going to be just fine.” Kendall squeezed his hand and leaned into his arm. He could hear the same tears misting his eyes in her voice.
“Okay, girls. Dinner’s almost ready. Pizza’s coming out of the oven.” Calliope, barefoot as usual, headed over. “Phoebe, I hope you like veggies.”
“Ewww.” Charlie stuck her tongue out as Phoebe nodded.
“I thought so.” Calliope beamed at her as she ushered the girls back inside. “Okay, you two. Off with you.” She shooed Kendall and Hunter away as if they were pests invading her gardens.
A patrol car came up over the hill and parked right in front of them. “Hold up!” A man in a deputy’s uniform climbed out with a neon-pink sleeping bag tucked under one arm. “Charlie! You forgot your sleeping bag.”
“Sorry!” Charlie ran over to her stepfather to retrieve it. “I was thinking about Phoebe’s and I guess I forgot mine. Thank you.”
“Not a problem. I had to stop for takeout, anyway.” Fletcher leaned against the hood of his car. “You must be Hunter MacBride. Fletcher Bradley.”
“Nice to meet you.” Hunter moved forward to shake his hand.
“Wait, wait, Phoebe, what’s wrong?” Stella cried as Phoebe raced back to Hunter. She buried herself in his arms, peeking out only slightly to look at Fletcher.
“Hey, hey. What’s this?” Hunter tried to pull Phoebe in front of him as her friends circled Calliope. “What’s wrong?”
Tears pooled deep in her eyes as her face paled. She just pointed at Fletcher, shaking her head.
“She was like this a bit with Matt,” Kendall remembered. “Phoebe, you have to tell us what’s wrong.”
“I can go,” Fletcher said, but the concern on his face reflected Hunter’s own fatherly concern. “If it’ll help.”
“No.” It was Kendall who spoke as she bent down in front of Phoebe. “Phoebe, you don’t have anything to be afraid of Deputy Bradley. He’s Charlie’s dad, remember? And he’s a good guy. He’s my friend.”
Some of Phoebe’s fear faded. She poked a finger against her heart, made a breaking motion with her hands.
“That’s what she does when it’s about her parents,” Hunter told Kendall. “Kiddo, does Deputy Bradley remind you of that day? Are you afraid...” His voice trailed off as he began to understand. “It was a deputy who came to get you from school, wasn’t it? They told you what happened to your parents?” Because he’d been halfway across the world taking photos at a refugee camp in Syria.
Phoebe nodded.
“Oh, Phoebe. They were doing their job.” Kendall took hold of her and brought her close. “I know you were really scared. But you don’t have to be here. The officers in Butterfly Harbor are safe, I promise. They aren’t going to take you away.”
“My dad wouldn’t do that, Phoebe,” Charlie announced. “If you don’t believe Kendall, you can believe me. I wouldn’t let him.”
“Charlie, let them be.” Fletcher held out his hand to his daughter.
But Charlie’s words had broken through. At least somewhat—Phoebe had stopped shaking.
“Phoebe.” Kendall spoke up. “You are a strong, smart little girl. I believe in you. So does your uncle. I bet everyone here does, too. You know in your heart that Deputy Bradley would never take you away from the people you love. And the people who love you. We’d hate for you to miss all the fun, but it’s your choice.”
Phoebe looked among the adults. Each second that ticked by was another twist in Hunter’s heart. Times like this he missed his sister so much. She knew what to do in every situation; she always had. Especially when it came to her daughter. Finally, Phoebe took a step back, out of the protection of Hunter’s arms, and walked right over to Fletcher.
He didn’t move. He just looked down at her, and then Phoebe looked to where he and Charlie were holding hands. Phoebe made a heart image in the air with her fingers, pointed to the two of them.
“That’s right. He loves me,” Charlie announced. “And he’d never ever hurt any of my friends. I promise, Phoebe. And I never ever, ever break a promise. Right, Daddy?”
“Neither do I. I’m sorry if I scared you, Phoebe. We protect the people who live here, and that includes you. Would you maybe like to come by the police station tomorrow? Charlie and I could introduce you to the other deputies so you feel more comfortable with us.”
Phoebe nodded.
“And then maybe I can show Mr. Hunter the magic caves!” Charlie announced. “Can we, Dad? Can we?”
“As long as I don’t have to go swimming this time, yes, that’s a fine idea.”
Hunter didn’t hear much about the plans from then on. Part of him wanted to scoop Phoebe up in his arms and race back to the cottage, where she felt safest. Where he did. But that wouldn’t do Phoebe any good. Kendall was right. She needed to confront the fears she had, face them head-on. The pride that swept over him as he’d watched Phoebe approach the deputy nearly took him under.
“All right, then.” Calliope enveloped Charlie and Phoebe into a swirl of green and blue fabric to usher them toward the house. The instant Phoebe was back with her friends, Charlie, Marley and Stella linked their arms around her and led her inside. “We’ll be fine,” Calliope told them. “You may proceed with your date.”
“Thank you, Calliope.” Hunter didn’t quite know what else to say.
“Never a dull moment around this town,” Fletcher said as he removed his hat and slapped it against his leg. “Can I give you guys a lift to the Flutterby?”
“Are there no secrets in this town?” Hunter couldn’t help but ask.
“Well, you’re a bit dressy for the diner,” Fletcher said. “And while Zane’s pizza is stellar, it doesn’t require a tie. That leaves Jason’s place, which I’m on my way to, anyway, to pick up dinner for me and my wife. Calliope, I owe you for this.”
“I will collect in my own time,” Calliope said before she all but floated off.
“Well, my feet are killing me,” Kendall said. “So we will happily accept the ride. Hey.” She turned and placed her palm against Hunter’s chest, right over his heart, and turned the kindest, most understanding eyes up at him. “You ever ridden in the back of a patrol car?”
“Ah, no.” Hunter couldn’t stop the chuckle that emerged, which broke the last of the fog hovering in his mind.
“Then allow me to show you how it’s done. And at dinner, I’ll tell you how I ended up in one on graduation night.”
* * *
“YOU KNOW HOW there’s something you’ve always wanted to do, you spend ages building it up in your mind and then you finally get a chance to d
o it and you worry if it’s going to live up to all the expectation?”
“Sure.” Although she had a difficult time recalling the last time she’d felt that excited about something. Culinarily satiated, Kendall leaned back in her embroidered chair and tried to hide her smile as Hunter polished off his crème brûlée.
“Expectations exceeded. That was phenomenal.” He wiped his mouth on the sea foam–green cloth napkin and turned his attention back on her. “How was yours?”
“Good.” She barely remembered tasting anything. Her nerves about tonight hadn’t settled since she’d opened her door to find Hunter and Phoebe waiting for her. They’d abated a bit dealing with Phoebe’s apprehension about Fletcher, something Kendall was kicking herself for not recognizing sooner. Problem solving was her comfort zone. Sitting across from a stunningly handsome and charismatic Hunter MacBride, wearing a dress for the first time since... Kendall cringed and shoved memories of Sam’s funeral aside. Why couldn’t she just relax and enjoy? Just for a few minutes, why couldn’t she let herself believe in the good?
“Good? Kendall, come on.” He reached across the table and slipped his fingers through hers. “That meal was spectacular.”
“It was...food.” She wished she could get excited about things like he could. Everything seemed to fascinate him; the world energized him, whereas she? Kendall shifted in her chair and tried to push a smile onto her lips. Kendall was just waiting for the world to implode.
“Ah, but it was almost veggie-free.” Hunter’s grin made her heart trip. “Phoebe would not have approved.”
“No.” Kendall finally found her laugh. “No, she would not have. Where does that come from, do you think?”
“Beyond the fact that my sister had a small container garden in the backyard, Phoebe and Brent used to play a game at dinner. Whoever ate the most vegetables got to choose the story they read that night. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Phoebe knows her own mind when it comes to her books.”
Safe in His Arms--A Clean Romance Page 17