A Place for Us (Blue Harbor Book 1)

by Olivia Miles

  He whistled under his breath. “I thought we were talking about the pie eating contest.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, and then shook her head, grinning ruefully back at him. “You got me. Sorry. Force of habit.”

  “I thought you’d want to relax a bit. You’re technically on vacation, aren’t you?”

  Britt swallowed hard, keeping her eyes fixed on the pie eating contest, wondering if the girl with the strawberry pie would win and hoping, for some inexplicable reason, that she would.

  She couldn’t lie to Robbie. Not back then. Not now. Even if they weren’t a couple anymore, and even if they maybe weren’t even friends, she couldn’t hide the truth from him. And she wasn’t so sure that she wanted to, either. Robbie was the one person she had opened up to when life was hardest.

  And he was just one of many people that she had shut out.

  “I’m, um, on an extended vacation,” she clarified, eyeing him. She could see the confusion knit his brow, so she added, “I got laid off. Ironic, isn’t it? I advise companies on how to save their business, which sometimes results in letting go of people, and then I got a taste of my own medicine.”

  “I’m sorry, Britt,” Robbie said, setting a hand on her arm. She didn’t shrug it off, and despite the ache in her chest, she felt a laser focus on the softness of his touch, and the sense of connection that had been missing from her life for so long. So achingly long.

  She skirted her eyes around the grounds. “I haven’t told my sisters yet. Or my Dad. He’s trying to recover and there’s been enough worry going around. Besides, I’m sure that something will turn up soon.” She sniffed and lifted her chin. Still, a part of her stomach wavered, twisted and bubbling with nerves every time she dared to ask herself, what if something didn’t turn up soon?

  “Eager to get out of town, eh?” When he looked at her, she saw something close to hurt in his eyes, but he covered it quickly saying, “Your family has always been there for you, Britt. You wouldn’t be worrying them. They’d probably be happy to help.”

  She nodded quietly, feeling the same shame and guilt creep up just as it did every time that she thought about the distance she’d put between herself and her sisters, and not just physically. “All the same. It’s sort of a sore subject. Besides, maybe it’s for the best that I’m out of a job right now.”

  He watched her carefully. “Now you have all the time you need to focus on the family business.”

  She nodded slowly. The business hadn’t even been on her mind just then, but all the same she said, “Yep. The business.”

  After all, she couldn’t save her mother. She couldn’t even save her relationship with Robbie. But maybe she could save the one thing that still tied her to this town and her childhood, the one positive thing that was still standing.

  ***

  Robbie hadn’t expected Britt to actually come to the event, but then, he hadn’t expected her to still be in Blue Harbor either, or ever return for that matter. There had been a time, when he’d first thought about coming back, that seeing her again had crossed his mind, even filled him with a flutter like something close to hope, but he’d closed that door, knowing it was pointless. That she wouldn’t be back. And that he didn’t care.

  But she was back. And he did care. And he didn’t know what to make of that.

  “It’s so nice to see the two of you together again!” Mrs. Foreman, who ran a B&B at the corner of Main Street and liked to keep tabs on all the happenings from her wraparound front porch, gushed as the sun began to set and the strings of lights that were hung from the trees popped on, illuminating the sky nearly as brightly as the stars that he’d missed so much out in Boston. Nothing beat the night sky of Blue Harbor, with its vast northern view.

  Britt was quick to shake her head, her eyes bulging in alarm. “Oh, we’re not—”

  But Mrs. Foreman was having none of it. “I knew you’d both be back where you were meant to be eventually,” she said with a little pat on Britt’s hand.

  To him, she gave a less than subtle wink, and both Britt and Robbie watched in silence as she walked away.

  Britt guffawed loudly. “Well, that was—”

  Robbie raised an eyebrow. “Typical?”

  “I was going to say pushy, but typical works.” Britt gave him a little smile. “It sure is different than life in the city. Everyone knows you. Everyone knows what you’ve been through.” She sighed.

  “Would it be strange to say that I kind of like that?” Robbie admitted. He led her over to a bench under the oak tree before someone else could grab it. Keira was with her grandparents at the other end of the festival, and Jackson was no doubt tending bar at the inn, where he was happiest, or dodging the latest heart he’d broken.

  “Why did you go?” Britt suddenly asked him. He was too caught off guard to answer right away and she leaned in, her voice low over the sound of the band that had just started playing, but loud enough to voice his biggest thoughts, and ones he asked himself, and questioned sometimes. But he always came back to the same answer. “Why’d you leave Blue Harbor all those years ago?”

  He’d left. Taken a gap year. Then he’d stayed and gone to school in Boston and met Stephanie. And had Keira, he thought, watching as the little girl stepped out onto the dance floor, clapping her hands to something that had caught her attention.

  “I left because you didn’t come back,” he said. He cleared his throat. There. It was out there. And it didn’t matter now. He’d ended up where he was supposed to be. On the path that had brought him right back here.

  Right next to Britt Conway.

  He looked away again. At his daughter.

  “You were supposed to go to Michigan State.”

  He nodded. “Guess you could say we’re more alike than we thought back then.” He slid her a glance and felt their eyes lock. “When you lose someone you love, sometimes it just hurts too much to stay.”

  “You could have come with me,” Britt said quietly. She passed off her emotions with a casual shrug, but the strain in her eyes spoke differently. “Anyway,” she said. “That was a long time ago. We’ve both moved on. Both changed.”

  “And now we’re both back in Blue Harbor,” he stated.

  Britt gestured at something across the way. “I think your daughter is trying to get your attention.”

  Was she? Robbie shook his thoughts off Britt and turned toward the crowd to see Keira waving frantically in their direction. Only she wasn’t trying to get Robbie’s attention at all. It was Britt she was calling out to now.

  “I think she wants to show you her painting,” Robbie said. He leaned in, until he was close enough to feel the heat from Britt’s skin, catch the faint scent of peony that was her favorite fragrance back when they’d dated. Not much had changed after all, despite what she insisted.

  Or what he’d hoped.

  “In case you can’t tell at first glance, the painting is of an elephant,” he whispered.

  She looked up at him, and he wondered if she would pull back, if he’d overstepped and gotten too comfortable. But she grinned, all the way up to her eyes, and said, “Did you guess wrong?”

  He laughed. “I may have complimented her beautiful painting of a snow-capped mountain.”

  Britt shook her head, but she was smiling as she walked away. “Elephant. Got it.”

  Robbie stayed back, watching as Britt walked toward his daughter, her hair bouncing in its ponytail, the skirt of her dress swishing at her knees. Gone were the rigid skirts and formal tops. From this view, she was the same old Britt.

  Nope. Nothing had really changed at all.

  “Having fun?” He turned to see his mother approach, her look a little too coy for his liking.

  “Keira’s having a good time,” he replied. That was all that mattered anymore.

  “She seems to have found a new friend,” his mother said, her tone laced with suggestion, but her meaning was a mystery to him.

  They’d moved on from the art disp
lay to the craft table, and Robbie’s jaw tightened as he watched Keira show Britt how to assemble the paper lanterns that everyone would light and release over the lake upon sundown, even though he was fairly certain that Britt knew how to do it herself. It was town tradition, after all, and she hadn’t been away long enough to have forgotten.

  He hadn’t, he thought, swallowing hard.

  “There’s nothing going on, if that’s what your insinuating, Mom,” he said gently.

  “I’m just saying,” Bonnie said delicately. “It wouldn’t be so bad if something were. Keira’s having a good time, like you said, but it’s okay for you to have a good time, too.”

  She gave him a little pat on the arm as she walked away to join a group of her friends he recognized from her bridge club.

  Across the green, Keira caught his eye and waved at him, her face beaming and her smile wide enough to light up her eyes, even from the distance.

  His daughter was having a good time. And with Britt.

  And he wasn’t so sure how he felt about that.

  9

  Britt pressed her ear to the door of her father’s study before gingerly turning the knob, bracing herself for the sight of entangled limbs or Candy’s bouncy blonde curls dangling over her father’s grinning face. She nearly shivered at the image.

  Instead, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw that the room was empty. No Candy. But no sight of her father, either. Frowning, her relief quickly turned to anxiety as she crossed the hall to the side window of the dining room and saw that Candy’s car wasn’t parked in its usual spot beside her own. Had she somehow managed to get Britt’s father down the porch steps and into the car? It was possible, but risky. Was there a doctor’s appointment Britt didn’t know about? But it was Sunday morning. Doctor’s offices weren’t open.

  Her chest seized when she considered something worse. A run to the hospital. Cardiac arrest from clogged arteries from all of Candy’s cheese biscuits.

  Or over-stimulation.

  Please no, she thought, squeezing her eyes tight.

  Maybe he’d injured himself. Maybe someone had crashed into him at the festival yesterday, just as she’d feared. Or maybe her father had fallen out of bed, or fallen trying to get to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

  Or trying to do something else that usually takes place in the dark, she thought, narrowing her eyes.

  She went quickly back to the kitchen and directly to the fridge, where Candy had taken to leaving notes containing inspirational messages on the door under magnets collected over the years, but the only thing that today’s note card said was, “Bloom where you are planted.” Hardly original, and Britt couldn’t help but wonder if there was a hint of suggestion in Candy choosing that phrase. Then again, yesterday Candy had tacked up a quote about living in the moment, so maybe she was just running low on ideas lately.

  She called out her father’s name, sensing as she did that the house was empty. It was old and creaky, and even from upstairs there was a different feel to the home when it was occupied. Growing up, the back door seemed to swing open and closed all day long in the summer, with all four of them bounding in and out from the lake to the kitchen to grab more snacks or drinks.

  She shook her head at the thought of it now. Her mother claimed she never tired of the energy of the house, and Britt remembered not knowing what she meant, until it all changed. The house that was once so full of life became quiet and still. And now, well, now it was most certainly empty.

  She went out the same back door that her mother used to laughingly say was about to fall off its hinges, finding her father in one of the old rocking chairs on the back porch, looking out over the water, a cup of coffee warming his hands. It was a clear summer day, and already there were boats out on the lake. Sails were down, though; not enough breeze in the air.

  “I couldn’t find you,” she said a little breathlessly. Her chest felt tight, even now, when he was right here within arm’s reach, and she dropped onto the chair beside him, resisting the urge to fling her arms around his neck, the way she had done when she was a little girl.

  Didn’t want to go injuring him when she’d been so concerned of that happening, after all.

  He gave her a mild smile. “I’m right here. I’ll always be right here, Britt.”

  She nodded. She supposed she’d always known that. And counted on it. And maybe, she thought, taken it for granted.

  “Candy went out?” She knew the answer, but thought it best to confirm the fact.

  “Went to run some errands,” Dennis replied. “Don’t worry. She won’t be back for a couple hours. She’s having her hair done.”

  So Britt’s suspicions were correct. That curious shade of blonde was not Candy’s natural color.

  She immediately wanted to take back the unkind sentiment when she saw the knowing look her father was giving her. “I know you don’t like her.”

  “It’s not that I don’t like her,” Britt interjected. “I don’t even know her.”

  “Exactly. You aren’t even giving her a chance.” Her father shrugged and returned his eyes to the water. “Maybe I expected too much. But you aren’t little anymore. None of you are. And…”

  And a lot of things, she thought, studying the frown of his profile. This house was big. And it was now empty, and it wasn’t ever meant to be that way, she knew. Her father wasn’t getting any younger. And he had found someone who made him happy. Someone who couldn’t be more different than her mother, who was lovely and graceful and quiet and unassuming. Britt didn’t know what to make of that.

  “Maybe I’m the one who isn’t open to change,” she said slowly, thinking of Amelia’s words, that their father was stubborn and set in his ways. “I guess that it was easier to stay away, to think of this house, and this town, the way it used to be. It’s hard to face it now. Seeing how it’s all so different.”

  “But you’re different too,” her father pointed out. “All buttoned up and closed off. Not that I blame you. I just…well, sometimes I miss that sweet girl who used to throw her arms around my neck and show up a little later than curfew.”

  Britt felt a lump building in her throat. She missed that girl too. But that girl’s spirit had died along with her mother. And had been lost without Robbie.

  “I grew up,” she said tightly, but they both knew it was much more than that. She’d grown, but not into the person she wanted to be. Her father was right; she didn’t show her heart anymore. She didn’t live with abandon. How could she? She kept a tight schedule, she lived for routine. She kept people at arm’s length. She didn’t get close.

  She’d thought that she was better off that way. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Her sisters were all still close, and seemingly content with their lives. And Maddie wasn’t even really speaking to her.

  And she had the distinct feeling that she had missed out on…something. Because there was certainly nothing waiting for her in Chicago. No husband. No boyfriend. Not even a real friend.

  “I’m proud of you,” her father said, grinning. He pulled in a breath as he glanced over at her, as if preparing himself for what he was about to say next. “I suppose you’ll be getting back to the city soon?”

  She licked her bottom lip. Now it was her turn to look out over the water. The view never failed to calm her, to give her something to focus on, when the world around her seemed too overwhelming. Along the shoreline she could see children splashing in the water, squealing at its icy temperatures. It wouldn’t warm up until about August, but that had never stopped her as a kid, had it?

  Now it would. Now everything seemed to stop her.

  “You’ll be back on your feet soon,” she said, dodging his direct question. The truth was that she wasn’t so sure that she’d be back in Chicago in two weeks. She wasn’t renewing the lease on her apartment, and she hadn’t heard back from any more of the jobs she’d applied to yet. Would she go back, stay in a month-to-month studio apartment until a job opened up? There didn’t seem t
o be much point in that.

  Dennis tented his fingers in his lap. “Conway Orchard has been in the family for generations. I love the place. But with Steve retired, and that fall I took, well…call me crazy, but a part of me was hoping that I might pass on the reins soon.”

  Britt frowned at him. Retire? But her father loved to work. Since her mother had died, she could even say that he lived to work.

  “Pass on the reins? To Robbie?” Robbie was passionate, and he was good at what he did. But he wasn’t family. He could have been, in another life. If things had gone differently.

  She shut that thought away. Robbie had made it clear he had no regrets, and why should he? He had a sweet little girl. And she had…nothing. Not even a job anymore.

  Her father was silent, one eyebrow raised as he stared at her, and she felt a sinking, twisting feeling in her stomach as the realization took hold, remembering what Robbie had said, wondering if her father did too. Once she had dreamed of taking over the business, sure, but things had changed.

  “Oh, Dad,” she said, her heart heavy with regret. There was nothing worse than disappointing her father when all she wanted to do was to protect him. She could never forget the ache in her chest when she stood at his side at her mother’s funeral, seeing him so lost that she barely recognized him, not knowing what to do in the moment other than take his hand, knowing it wasn’t going to be enough.

  “Just something to think about,” he said, holding up a hand. “If you ever decide to come home to stay, you’ve got more than your family waiting here for you. You’re like me, Britt. You like to keep busy. And none of your sisters love that orchard the way you did.”

  Tears burned the back of her eyes. There was so much she wanted to say in that moment, so much that hadn’t been said, that she couldn’t bring herself to say when she was younger, and hadn’t said over the years out of guilt and shame and confusion. It was all there, bursting to come out, but all she could say was, “Dad.”

  She reached out to take his hand, again because it seemed to be all that she knew to do, and he squeezed it tight, looking firmly in her eyes.