The Stillwater Bay Collection (Books 1-4): Stillwater Bay Series Boxed Set

by Steena Holmes

  He came up here willing to do what it takes to make their marriage work, not realizing she wanted the same thing.

  “One of the summer cottages?” Rather than focus on what he’d just said, she brought the conversation back to safer ground.

  He shook his head, looking slightly off balance. “No.” His gaze moved from her to the window. “During golf yesterday, Scott Umber offered up his house.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Are you serious?” She loved the Umber house. It was just outside the town border, but right on the shoreline, with a gorgeous wraparound balcony and the most beautiful library Charlotte had ever seen in a house. She’d once told Jordan she’d wished they could buy that home, despite knowing it would forever be out of their reach financially.

  “They’re headed to Europe for Christmas this year, so the house is ours as long as the renovations are finished before next summer.” He rested his hand on her foot and squeezed slightly.

  “We could, Charlie.” Jordan leaned forward but he kept his hand on her skin. “We’ve talked about rebuilding this house, making it into the home of our dreams. It could be a fresh start for us.” He swallowed hard. “For our marriage.”

  For their marriage. Charlotte bowed her head, twisting the wedding ring still on her finger.

  She’d thought long and hard about their marriage for the past month, about what it would mean to end it—how it would feel, what it would cost her emotionally and how it would look to the town.

  She didn’t want to appear weak, and having Jordan at her side only contributed strength to the town…something Stillwater needed now more than ever.

  She ignored that niggling thought that focusing on the town was a cop-out.

  “A fresh start would be nice.” The moment the words came out of her mouth, she knew it was true.

  Jordan must have heard the truth in her voice. His shoulders dropped, his posture relaxed, and she could see the hope spark in his gaze.

  “Do you mean it?”

  Right now they were living in stasis, not really dealing with their past and definitely not moving forward. That wasn’t what she wanted for her life, for them. She’d thought long and hard about what she did want—and despite everything that had happened, his secrets, his lies and deceit…she wanted Jordan. The life they had. They were stronger together and she needed that. Needed him.

  “I want to mean it.”

  “But?” Jordan asked.

  There were a lot of things she wanted to do but she’d learned early on that life never played fair. She should have known better when it came to her marriage…things were too good to be true.

  “But,” she breathed in deep, “let’s take it one day at a time, okay?” Just because she’d made the decision to not end their marriage, didn’t mean all the issues surrounding them vanished.

  “Okay.” He swallowed hard. “Okay, then. One day at a time.” He nodded. “That is workable.”

  Workable. She was glad he used that word. Workable meant they were on the same page in regards to their marriage and what it would take to fix it.

  “Why don’t we go away this weekend?” He said.

  Charlotte snorted. How did he get from taking it one day at a time to going away for a weekend?

  “We haven’t done that in a while,” his words rushed out as if realizing how it came across, “and it would mean getting away from all the distractions of being here and figuring out how to focus on us again?”

  Her first instinct was to say no, that she wasn’t ready for what that meant, but if there was one thing Charlotte wasn’t, it was a coward. Her gaze slid away from Jordan’s at that thought.

  She pushed it from her mind. She needed to. She had to focus on them, on today, now. One step at a time.

  She didn’t make half-assed decisions, so if she agreed to this, she needed to be sure. Offering a fresh start with Jordan meant starting over, moving past all the lies and deceits and moving forward to remain strong. Stronger.

  “Okay.” There. Decision made. “Why don’t you have your shower and then figure out where while I take Buster for our morning walk.”

  “No requests?”

  She shook her head. “Surprise me.”

  He jumped off the bed and pulled her alongside him, surprising her.

  “Jordan!” She almost tripped over Buster, who’d jumped up from where he lay on the floor.

  “Enjoy your walk. I’ve already got the best place for us to head toward in mind.” The spark in his eyes was infectious.

  “If it’s that quaint little bed-and-breakfast by Samish Bay, I’m in. Now go on—scoot. You stink.” She pushed him away from her, not kidding about the stench.

  It was early enough that the beach was still fairly empty, and Buster loved nothing more than running after the stick. She liked it too. She wasn’t a run-in-the-sand-while-sweat-dripped-down-her-skin type of person. She preferred taking her emotions out on her punching bag in a climate-controlled environment—mainly her basement—rather than dying of heat and having everyone see her sweating like a pig. But walking along the beach, listening to the waves lap along the shoreline…that she would enjoy for the rest of her life.

  Her phone went off and Charlotte immediately hit the dismiss button before turning off the volume. It was her mom…and her mom was the last person she really wanted to speak to at the moment.

  She’d just turned to close the gate separating her backyard from the public beach when she heard her name called out.

  She should have gotten up earlier to go for her walk. Forcing a smile onto her face, Charlotte gave a little wave to the one person she particularly didn’t want to bump into right now.

  Samantha Hill, the UCN journalist from Seattle who had shown up in town to cover the school shooting and never left.

  “Hey, Buster.” Sam squatted down to pet the attention-loving dog before jumping back up and flashing Charlotte a bright smile.

  Charlotte knew that smile.

  “Why do I get the feeling you want something from me?” She knew exactly what the request would be…a one-on-one sit-down with her and Jordan.

  “Probably because I’ve sent you numerous voice mails, emails, and texts asking.” Sam gave her a look Charlotte knew all too well. She’d seen it a few times over glasses of wine and early-morning coffees. It was a look that said, I always get the answers I’m looking for.

  Once things had started to quiet after the school shooting, Sam had decided to stay on in Stillwater Bay, renting a room from Shelley Peterson, who ran the Seaglass Bed-and-Breakfast. She worked on a few feature articles for their local town paper—articles that focused on the members of their community who’d impacted people’s lives during the nightmare they’d all experienced. The goal was to focus on the good, not the bad—and not just on the lives lost, but on those who were still here, still hoping and believing that love could conquer all evil.

  Charlotte really hadn’t anticipated both her and Jordan being the focus of one of those articles, however.

  “Right now there are more people you could surely focus on, right? Besides…weeks before the school opens is really not the ideal time for Jordan or me to sit down with you.” She half turned to stare out over the beach, which was starting to fill with people walking along the shoreline. A beach full of people she’d worked so hard to protect and to help heal. She wasn’t about to let a newspaper article destroy all that.

  “I’d prefer we waited till afterward.” She’d prefer they waited forever, to be honest.

  At Sam’s raised brows, Charlotte thought using her mayoral voice had gotten the point across—until she caught the slight shake of the reporter’s head.

  “Before the school reopens is the perfect time, actually, to have your joint article be printed,” Sam argued.

  The woman wasn’t going to stand down, was she?

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. She should have known better; this was a journalist she was talking to.

  “I’m not going to stop asking.” Sam
gave her a saucy wink before picking up a stray stick and throwing it off toward the water for Buster to chase.

  Charlotte sighed. “I’ll need to talk to Jordan. He’s not really…one to brag about himself.” She now understood his reluctance, feeling it herself as she flamed the belief for his lie.

  “Great. Sheila penciled me into your schedule for Monday. I thought we could do lunch?”

  Charlotte pulled her phone out from her pocket and scrolled through her calendar. “She did, did she?” She’d have to talk with her assistant.

  “See if it works with Jordan; if not, we’ll reschedule.” Sam took the stick that Buster carried and handed it to her.

  No longer in the mood for a walk, Charlotte tossed the stick over the hedge toward her backyard.

  “Why don’t I get back to you.” She reopened the gate for Buster to go through. “Enjoy the rest of your run.”

  Sam reached out with a light touch to Charlotte’s arm. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. You were out here for a nice morning walk and I disturbed that.”

  “It’s…fine. I need to get going anyways.” She gazed out over the beach and sighed.

  “Busy day?” Sam asked.

  “Just heading out of town for the weekend. A little R&R, you know?”

  “Wow.” Sam stepped back, arms folded and a wide smile on her face. “I don’t think you’ve left town since May, have you? I’m impressed. Good for you guys; you probably need some time away, just the two of you. Your marriage has probably been the last thing on your list, I’m sure.”

  Charlotte forced a smile to her face. It was so easy for everyone else to have an opinion on what didn’t concern them.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Sam covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide with apology. “I just overstepped. Damn. I do that a lot.”

  “Honestly, Samantha, I expect it from you. I don’t think we’ve had a conversation since you’ve arrived where you haven’t tried to step over that line.” Charlotte shook her head, and this time the smile was real. “I’ll talk to Jordan. Maybe we”—she gestured to Sam and then at herself—“can catch up on how things are going at the paper and what your plans are for the fall early next week, okay?”

  “And confirm the date of the sit-down with you and Jordan?”

  Like a dog with a stick…

  “Fine, Sam. Fine.”

  Sam beamed a huge smile at her. “Have a great weekend, Mayor.” She gave a wink before turning away.

  Charlotte shook her head and followed Buster back into her backyard. She muttered a few choice words beneath her breath about nosy journalists before she walked into the house to find Jordan standing by the kitchen counter with his phone plastered to his ear.

  “Great, thanks! We’ll see you soon.” Jordan gave her the thumbs-up as he hung up the phone. “You should hurry and pack,” he said as he handed her a cup of fresh iced tea. “I’ve got Buster’s things ready and our weekend is all taken care of.”

  “Whoa. Right now? Jordan, I can’t leave that fast! I need to get in touch with Sheila and move some things around-“ she stopped at the frown on his face.

  “It’s the weekend, Charlotte. Sheila is off-limits, remember? She needs a break too. And yes, right now. You can send all the emails and text messages you need to re-arrange your schedule when we’re in the car.”

  Charlotte took in Jordan’s damp hair and his relaxed stance. He obviously was looking forward to their weekend away, since he’d rushed to get ready.

  “Fine.” She tilted her head back and stared upwards, mentally counting until she didn’t feel so flustered. He was right. She’d been the one to suggest Sheila be off-limits to her on the weekends and it wasn’t like any of her coffee dates or other meetings were crucial. Everything could wait till Monday…

  “Let me go throw a few things in my bag.” She drank the tea and set the cup down in the sink. “I guess it was a good thing I’d cut my walk short.”

  “You didn’t seem to get far,” Jordan said. “Was that Samantha you were talking to?”

  Charlotte gave a quick look over her shoulder outside. He must have caught them talking when she’d opened the gate.

  She contemplated not saying anything—just ignoring the whole situation and making up a lie to Sam about how there was no room in their schedule to sit down, and keep that lie going as long as she could.

  But knowing Sam, she would see right through her and contact Jordan directly. She’d gone so far as to get Sheila involved already because Sam knew Charlotte would continue to ignore her request.

  “You know those articles Samantha is writing for the paper? Well…” Charlotte drummed her fingers on the counter. “She wants to write one on us, as a power team holding this town together since the shooting.”

  “And…” By the look on her husband’s face, he understood how much of a mistake this would be. Guilt, shame, grief…they were etched on his face.

  “And”—she let out a long breath—“I don’t think that would be very wise, all things considered.”

  A wave of obvious relief washed over Jordan’s features.

  “The last thing we need right now is someone digging through your closet and figuring out the inconsistencies of your story. This town is just starting to heal, Jordan. They don’t need to know about your connection to Gabe and the reason he brought that gun into the school.”

  Jordan’s head dropped, shoulders stooped at her words.

  “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” he said. “Maybe coming clean, being honest would be better than any false facade we try to maintain?”

  “Excuse me?” How could he honestly think this would be a good thing?

  “No.” Charlotte reached out for him and took his hands, holding them tightly within her own. “No, Jordan. No one can know. Ever. Your confessing the truth only helps you…not those your secret destroyed.”

  Some secrets were better left unspoken.

  “What kind of man am I if I don’t accept responsibility for my actions?” He pulled his hands from hers and turned.

  “A man who is accepting his responsibility.” She placed her hand on his back. She pushed the panic as far down as she could in order to keep her voice steady and firm. “A man who is putting the needs of others ahead of his own.” She gripped his arm and pushed so he’d turn back around. She needed to look him in the eye, to see that he understood. “A man the town expects and believes you to be.”

  She needed him to believe her. To trust her. To trust in her. She was right; there was no other way to handle this, and he needed to realize that. Their town wasn’t strong enough for the truth, for him to bare his soul. She wasn’t ready for it, for how it would damage them…no, that didn’t matter. It was about the town, not them, not her.

  He looked deep into her eyes, his own full of anguish, and she knew how hard this was for him.

  “What about you?” he asked. “What kind of man do you believe me to be? I’ve screwed up so much, Charlotte.” His fingers ran through his hair, messing it up. “Will you ever be able to forgive me?”

  And there was the question of the hour.

  “Forgiveness is a choice, Jordan,” she said quietly.

  He didn’t blink, didn’t move a muscle while he waited for her to answer his question.

  There was a lot she wanted to say. A lot she needed to say but never would. Like how she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to respect him again even though she knew she’d need to. Like the waves of anger that would hit her when she’d least expect it, anger at him for what he did to Julia, to his son, to her.

  But she couldn’t think about herself right now and her own feelings. She had to put that aside and focus on the greater good…what her town needed.

  “We can’t let our past mistakes define who we are—no matter what those mistakes may be.”

  Instead of focusing on how she felt, she thought of their life together, of what he meant to her, and she poured those memories, those feelings into what she said next.

>   “I believe you to be the man who will stand beside me as we do what’s best for our town. I believe you to be the man who will place us and our marriage first. I believe you”—she gave him a soft smile—“to be the man I need in my life.”

  A look of instant relief flooded Jordan’s face as he pulled her into his arms and pressed her close. Eventually she rested her head on his chest.

  “Trust me, okay?” she asked. “We will get through this.” As long as they stayed strong together, maintained their solidarity, things would be fine.

  They had to be.

  3

  “It’s so sad, what happened in your town. I pray for you all every night.” Mrs. Grimshaw reached for Charlotte’s hand and squeezed.

  “Thank you. We can feel those prayers, for sure.” Charlotte gave the elderly woman a smile before she glanced down the beach, praying for Jordan to appear.

  He’d left an hour ago to take Buster on a walk before they headed home from their weekend getaway.

  “It’s just so tragic. You never think something like that could happen in your own backyard, you know?” Mrs. Grimshaw continued without missing a beat. “I wasn’t sure if we’d be seeing you this summer or not, all things considered.” Mrs. Grimshaw reached for a basket she’d set to the side. “When Mr. Grimshaw told me you were finally coming, I knew I had to rush back from Seattle to see you. I’m so glad you hadn’t left yet.”

  “It’s been so nice to see you as well,” Charlotte infused a smile into her voice. There’d been nothing nice about this trip. It’d been a mistake from the moment they’d arrived.

  “Where is that handsome husband of yours? When we heard the news,” Mrs. Grimshaw clutched one hand to her chest, “our hearts were just torn, you know? We sat in front of our television to make sure we didn’t miss anything. We were so proud of you both, we even told our guests that have come all summer that you are our regulars. I’m so glad you were able to come this summer.” She held the basket out to Charlotte.

  “You didn’t need to get us anything.” Charlotte murmured as she looked through the assortment of jellies and crackers, crocheted clothes, some candles and bath salts.