by Laura Scott
If Jesse’s father had truly loved Lucy, it didn’t make sense that he’d hurt her just because she was pregnant.
Her mother and Leon Tate must have that part of the story wrong. There must be something else that had transpired that fateful night.
10
Jesse picked up Carla at the grocery store at one forty-five. The house for rent wasn’t very far, and he preferred to walk, especially since the town was full of tourists.
“Hey,” Carla came out of the store, her brow furrowed with worry creases. “Hope you weren’t waiting long.”
“Not at all, what’s wrong?” He didn’t like seeing her looking stressed out and fought the urge to pull her into his arms.
“The usual.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Nothing you can do.”
“I don’t know much about what it takes to run a grocery store, but I’m happy to listen.”
“Tell me about this house you’re looking at.”
He wasn’t fooled by her changing the subject. Whatever was bothering her, she didn’t intend to tell him. Why, he had no idea. Didn’t she trust him? The kiss they’d shared lingered in the back of his mind, and he’d been trying to think of a way to have some alone time with her.
But not like this, not when she was carrying the weight of work problems on her slim shoulders.
He only hoped that the issues were truly store related and not from that creep Dean Thomas. “It’s small, but close to town, which is more important.”
She arched a brow. “Seems like a guy who drives a little red Corvette enjoys the finer things in life.”
“I like cars,” he agreed, feeling defensive. He was secretly glad Carla had not seen his luxurious condo in Chicago. “But I’m not a snob. I’ll take what I can get as long as I’m close to you and Cassie.”
“We haven’t exactly discussed co-custody arrangements,” Carla said in a low voice. “I’m not sure how I’ll feel about giving up the little time I have with Cassie.”
“I don’t want to take away from your time with her either.” She was right, the co-custody arrangements wouldn’t be easy. “But maybe she can spend some time with me while you’re working?”
“That’s fine, but come September she’ll be in school all day. And you’ll be traveling, too, for your job, right?”
“Yeah.” He fell silent, realizing it wouldn’t be easy to balance their crazy schedules. He wanted to tell Carla she didn’t have to work at the grocery store if she didn’t want to. That he made plenty of money and could support her and Cassie, but he sensed that idea wouldn’t go over well.
The rental property was up ahead, and he found himself disappointed that it looked more run-down than it had on the website. The gray siding was old and cracked in a few places, and the white trim could have used a fresh coat of paint.
Maybe he was more high maintenance than he’d thought.
“This is it?” Carla eyed the property. “I know the owners, Simon and Helen Kaplan. They live in Lansing and bought this place as a vacation home, gosh, must be almost ten years ago. They’d come often when their kids were younger but haven’t used it much in the past few years. They’ve been renting it out for a month at a time during the summer.”
“Yeah, it’s not available until the first of September.” He liked hearing the history of the place. “Wonder if they’d be interested in selling?”
“No clue.”
They walked up the driveway. He glanced at his watch, taking note that it was already 2:00 p.m. “Where is Melanie Ryerson?”
“I think that’s her now.” Carla gestured to the vehicle coming to a stop at the side of the road in front of the house. A tall redhead slid out from behind the wheel, then crossed over to greet them with a smile.
“You must be Jesse McNally, I can tell, you resemble Jazz with your thick dark hair.” Melanie shook his hand, then turned to Carla. “Nice to see you again, Carla.”
“Likewise.” Carla’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Jesse frowned. “You two know each other?”
“Not really,” Carla said quickly. “Melanie’s only been back for a couple of years.”
“We went to high school together, although I was a year older,” Melanie added. “People used to assume Carla was my younger sister because we both have red hair.”
“I see.” Although, he really didn’t. There was something more going on here, but he wasn’t sure what. He decided to probe Carla for more information later. “Do you have a key?”
“Of course. And the family renting the place for July have given permission for us to see the place while they’re out.” Melanie inserted the key in the lock and pushed the front door open. “Although I have to say, most realtors wouldn’t be willing to come out on a holiday.”
“I know, and thanks for doing this.” Jesse gestured for Carla to go inside first. The interior was showing the same signs of wear and tear, but it was a cute place, decorated with a relaxed beach theme. “There are three bedrooms, right?”
“Correct.” Melanie walked toward the kitchen area. “The place could use a little updating, but it’s clean and functional.”
He nodded in agreement as he poked his head into the bedrooms and the two bathrooms. With a little work, the place could be nice. Looking out through the wide living room window, you could even see a bit of the lake. Not a lot, but some.
“Do you think the Kaplans would be interested in selling?”
Melanie’s eyes brightened with excitement. “I’m happy to ask them. Are you really interested in purchasing rather than renting? I know of another place, much bigger and nicer than this, that may be on the market soon.”
He glanced at Carla, wishing Melanie hadn’t mentioned a bigger, nicer place. Did he look like a snob? He didn’t think so. He held Carla’s gaze for a moment, but then she looked away. What did she think of the place? He had a feeling she wouldn’t say much in front of Melanie.
“Depends on the price,” he finally said. “But for now, I’m happy to rent this house starting the first of September.”
“Great. I’ll let the Kaplans know. And I’ll see if they’re interested in selling. Oh, and if not, just remember there are other properties, too.” Melanie glanced between the two of them as if sensing she was the third wheel. “I’ll be outside if you need anything.”
When she left, he turned to Carla. “What do you think?”
“It’s nice.” Her tone was noncommittal.
“I’m surprised the Kaplans don’t rent this place on their own, without an intermediary. Airbnbs are wildly successful.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, some people are still old-fashioned. Not to mention, the realtor takes care of vetting the clients who rent the place and the cleaning between visits. The Kaplans don’t have to do anything except let the money roll in.”
“You don’t like Melanie much, do you?”
Carla flushed and spread her hands. “It’s not that I don’t like her, we were never friends. That story about people considering us sisters is baloney. And she made snide comments when she returned to the area and found out I had a daughter but no husband.”
“I see.” And he didn’t like it. “Is there another realtor I can work with instead?”
“There’s only two of them, Melanie and an older guy by the name of Parker Stout. Parker likes to golf, so he’s not around as much during the summer, and Melanie is more of a go-getter.”
“I should have gone with Parker,” he said with a sigh.
“It’s fine.” She dismissed his concern with a wave. “Really, Melanie is good at her job. Are you ready to go? Or was there more you wanted to see?”
“I’m good.” He wished he’d thought to ask Carla for advice on which realtor to go with, rather than listening to Jazz. As they left, he glanced over his shoulder one more time at the warm interior of the place. It was easy to imagine living there, but not alone.
With Carla and Cassie. As a family.
Ridiculous to feel nervous about havi
ng dinner with the McNallys. Carla decided to close the grocery store early, a rare occurrence. By three in the afternoon, things had slowed dramatically, so she figured that closing at five wouldn’t cause a problem. She’d pulled produce from stock and put together a large salad to bring to the dinner party as well. Then she told her mother the news.
“You what?” Her mother’s voice rose with indignation as if Carla had done something unforgivable. “You can’t just close the store early. What if someone stops by to pick something up?”
“They’ll come back tomorrow.” She tried not to cave beneath the weight of her mother’s guilt trip. Normally the store only closed early on Christmas Eve and for all of Christmas Day. The other holidays they were open, even on New Year’s.
A schedule Carla hadn’t messed with, until today.
“Why would you do such a thing?” Her mother looked genuinely agitated. “People in the town depend on the store being open when they need something.”
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing, Mom. The place was quiet. There wasn’t a single customer between four and five o’clock.” She cleared her throat, then added, “Cassie and I have plans for dinner tonight. In fact, we’re already running late.”
“Plans? With Jesse McNally?”
“Yes.” She turned away, hoping to avoid an argument. “Cassie? Time to go!”
“Coming!” Cassie sounded excited.
“I can’t believe . . .” her mother started, but Carla held up a hand.
“Don’t ruin this for Cassie. She deserves this time with her father. It will be nice for her to establish a good relationship with him.”
Her mother clamped her lips together, sensing Carla’s bitterness related to her own relationship, or lack thereof, with her dad. Ironic that she now supported bonding time for Jesse and Cass. Her mother’s expression remained closed and shuttered as they left.
Carla set the salad in the back seat. She hated being at odds with her mother and hoped the letter written by Justin to Lucy may be the key.
“I can’t wait to meet my cousin.”
“I’m glad. Although, you should know he’s a lot younger than you are.” She tried to remember the last time she’d seen Jemma and Trey. Probably before Jazz and Dalton’s wedding.
“I know. Dad told me Trey is going to be four soon. But I don’t mind.”
Carla drove her old reliable Honda down the highway toward the McNallys’ B&B. As she pulled into the driveway, Cassie gasped with admiration. “It’s so big!”
“Just remember, it’s a bed and breakfast,” she warned. “And there are probably guests staying there.”
“I know.” Cassie had her door open before Carla had put the gear shift into park. Shaking her head wryly, she shut down the engine and got out of the car. She rescued the salad from the back seat, then approached the large, yellow two-story house.
The front door opened, revealing a smiling Jemma McNally. “It’s great to see you both, please come in.”
“It’s nice to see you, too.” She held up the large bowl. “I brought salad.”
“Wonderful. Here, I’ll take that for you. Come on through to the backyard, that’s where the rest of the family is.”
“Wow. It’s so beautiful,” Cassie said, looking around the great room with wide eyes. Carla had to agree. A Cliffs of Moher painting hung over the fireplace flanked by tall antique-looking silver candlesticks. Deep cherrywood furniture made the room look regal and comfy at the same time. A curved, elegant staircase led the way to the second floor, where Carla assumed the bedrooms were located. She’d had only been inside the mansion once or twice during that summer with Jesse, and never upstairs. They’d always spent their time together outside.
“Better than I imagined,” Cass added.
Her stomach knotted with nerves as Jemma led the way through the large kitchen and dining areas. The white gazebo overlooked the lake. Jemma opened the French doors leading outside, then stood off to the side encouraging Carla and Cassie to go out first.
Jesse hurried over from the gazebo, and for a moment, she thought she saw a hint of nervousness in his eyes, too. “Hi, Carla, Cassie. Welcome. I hope you both like barbequed ribs, potato salad, and grilled corn on the cob.”
“Sounds great. I brought a green salad, too.” Carla swept her gaze over the group sitting on deck chairs inside the gazebo, lingering for a moment on Jazz.
“Carla!” Jazz hurried forward and engulfed her in a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Me, too,” she managed. That summer they’d been close despite their couple year age difference, but that had changed drastically once she’d gone away to college.
Upon returning home, Carla had done everything possible to avoid the McNally family. But now, she couldn’t help but wonder how things might have been different if she hadn’t.
Would Jazz have guessed who Cassie’s father was? Would Jesse have known about his daughter sooner?
Jesse performed introductions. Cassie was thrilled to meet Trey and the Goldendoodle puppy, Goldie.
“Do you think Bucky and Goldie are brother and sister?” Cassie asked.
“They are,” Jemma confirmed. “I’m fairly certain all the puppies found good homes.”
“Too bad, I would love one.” Cassie looked disappointed.
After a few minutes, the last of her nervousness fled beneath the warm welcome. Jesse pulled her down to sit beside him under the gazebo where she could easily watch as Cass and Trey played with Goldie.
The food was delicious and plentiful. She smirked when Jesse went for seconds.
When there was a lull in the conversation, she tried to think of a way to ask about the letter. Thankfully, Jesse sensed her thoughts.
“Jemma, do you mind if we show Carla Dad’s letter?”
“Sure, why not?” Jemma jumped up from her seat next to Garth. “I have to take the leftovers in anyway.”
“I’ll help,” Carla offered.
“Nope, you and Cassie are our guests. Stay here, I’ll be back in a jiff.”
“Did Jesse fill you in on the history between our family and the Tates?” Jazz asked.
She nodded. “Yes, and you should know that my parents were friends of the Tates too.”
“Oh.” Jazz grimaced. “I’m sure that means your parents are on their side.”
“My mom is, yes.” She cleared her throat, trying not to look at Jesse. “My dad died nine years ago.”
There was a moment of silence as Jazz, Dalton, and Deputy Garth Lewis digested that bit of information.
“Here you go,” Jemma said, returning to the gazebo with an old, yellowed slip of paper. “Be careful, it’s fragile.”
“I will.” Carla quickly read through the brief note, then read it again for a second time. It was amazing how the sadness and grief leapt off the page.
“We know J is for Justin,” Jesse said. “According to Mrs. Cromwell, our Dad and Lucy were a hot item back then.”
“My mom said the same thing.” Carla hesitated, then decided to share the rest. “My mom and Leon Tate both blame your father for Lucy’s death.”
“Because he was driving the boat that night,” Jazz said with a nod.
“Not just that.” Carla wondered if her mother would forgive her for breaching her confidence, but she decided they needed to know. “My mom was Lucy’s best friend. She says Lucy was pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” both Jazz and Jemma echoed in unison while Jesse let out a low whistle.
“That explains a lot,” he said in a low voice.
“Wouldn’t the ME’s report show that?” Jazz asked.
“It should, but we haven’t seen the report for ourselves,” Jemma pointed out. “Maybe it’s time we take a look at it.”
“How can we get it?” Jazz asked.
“I’m not sure,” Jemma admitted.
“I know this letter is yours, but I’d like to show it to my mother,” Carla said. “She needs to know how your father really felt
about Lucy.”
There was another long moment of silence before Jazz spoke up. “Are you saying your mom thinks our dad hurt Lucy on purpose?”
“I’m afraid so.” Carla shook her head. “Terrible, right? Isn’t it time the Tate family learned the truth?”
“I doubt old Leon will believe it,” Jemma said with a resigned sigh. “I think he likes hating us.”
“Why not take a picture of the letter with your phone for now? We’ll show your mom the original later,” Jesse suggested.
Carla snapped the picture, wondering what her mother would think. As the sun hovered low over the lake to the west, the conversation veered from the past to the present. She enjoyed hearing Garth and Jemma’s wedding plans. They’d picked the middle weekend in August to get married and expressed their hope that the rest of the siblings would attend.
“Let’s take a walk,” Jesse suggested, pulling her out of her chair.
“What about Cassie?”
“Jemma and Jazz will keep an eye on her.”
She felt self-conscious as the two couples watched them leave. Jesse’s hand was warm around hers. They wandered aimlessly along the shoreline when he abruptly stopped.
“Carla.” He took her other hand so he could look deep into her eyes. “I want you to know how much I care about you.”
Her heart did a crazy double beat in her chest. “I care about you, too.”
His gaze searched hers, then he drew her close. “I think I know why I haven’t been seriously involved with anyone over the past nine years,” he said in a low, gravelly tone.
“You do?” Her voice was breathless.
“Because none of them were you.” He slowly lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her softly at first, then with the passion and desire she remembered from long ago.
11
He wanted, needed Carla in a way he hadn’t felt in nine years. Kissing her was so much better now than it had been before.
And he never wanted to stop.
When they both needed to breathe, he lifted his head and cradled her close, resting his cheek on her hair. It felt so right, so perfect to hold her in his arms.