Summer at Lake Haven

by RaeAnne Thayne

  Soon enough, Ian would be the father of the bride at Amelia’s wedding. He stood watching his daughter whirl off with his father, a little bereft to think about her one day dancing with her own bridegroom.

  His mother cleared her throat and he realized with some dismay that she was waiting for him to do the polite thing and ask her to dance since her partner had just deserted her.

  “Mother, would you like to dance?” he said instantly.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Margaret said, eyes twinkling. “Especially since I imagine there’s someone else here you would rather be taking out onto the dance floor.”

  Ian felt his cheeks heat and had to force himself not to look for Samantha, whom he could see on the periphery of his vision still dancing with his son and apparently enjoying herself immensely.

  “You are the only one I want to dance with at this moment,” he said chivalrously, though he earned only a disbelieving harrumph in return.

  His mother didn’t move with the grace he remembered from his youth, afflicted with arthritis that she never complained about. She needed a knee replacement but had been postponing it for months.

  He didn’t like thinking about either of his parents growing older, any more than he wanted to think about Amelia some day marrying some nameless, faceless man who had best treat her right.

  “It’s been an unforgettable day, hasn’t it?” Margaret said softly.

  This time he couldn’t help his gaze from shifting to Samantha. She was still dancing with Thomas and was laughing at something his son was saying. The lights strung around the lawn lit up her features like a Raphael Madonna.

  His chest tightened and he stumbled a little, missing her already.

  “She is delightful,” Margaret said softly, following his gaze.

  “Yes. I agree.” Ian did his best to keep any emotion out of his voice and expression, though he had a feeling it would do him no good. His mother always had an uncanny knack for mind reading, often before he had figured out his own thoughts.

  “What are your plans after next week?” Margaret asked, giving him a searching look. “I assume you’ll stay in touch with her.”

  Yes, his mother knew him entirely too well. What could she see in his expression? Could she tell he was in love with Samantha?

  He stopped dancing altogether as the truth of it poured over him like water gushing from Bridal Veil Falls.

  Love.

  He couldn’t be in love. He had only known her a few short weeks. Infatuation, maybe. Certainly lust. But love?

  The more he thought of it, though, the more he realized that was the only possible explanation for everything in his heart and his mind. This tenderness was far more than infatuation and lust.

  He was in love with her.

  Somehow during his short time in Haven Point, Samantha Fremont had become infinitely dear to him.

  He loved her smile, her talent, the sweetness she showed his children. He had come to cherish a hundred things about her.

  The realization should have filled him with joy. Instead, he ached at the impossibility of it.

  “After next week, the children and I are packing up the Oxford place and moving to Summerhill, where I plan to throw myself into helping Father and learning everything there is to know about the earldom.”

  A twinge of pain tightened her features and he regretted his flat tone immediately. His parents knew well that he had never wanted to be heir. He didn’t need to remind them of it, like a petulant child who couldn’t have the toy he wanted in the market.

  “What about Samantha?” his mother pressed.

  Something else he couldn’t have. “What about her?” he asked, this time careful to keep his expression free of the torment stirring beneath the surface.

  “Are you making plans to visit her again? I’ve heard fall is a beautiful time here at the lake. Or will you invite her to visit Dorset once you’re settled?”

  He could clearly picture how wonderful either of those things might be. He would love to show her the river Amherst, his childhood swimming hole, the picturesque village near the estate that reminded him a great deal of Haven Point.

  He could imagine showing her the kissing bridge over the stream at Summerhill, the Roman ruins nearby, the hills he and David used to hike.

  He also knew he could do none of those things.

  “What would be the point?” he asked, his voice brusque.

  She stared at him, clearly astonished at his tone and his words. “The point? The point is she’s a wonderful woman. You have feelings for her and should see where they lead.”

  He didn’t want to talk about this right now and certainly not with his mother. He wanted to go somewhere alone, somewhere near the water, where he could try to process the tumultuous shock of realizing he loved a woman he could never have.

  Short of abandoning his mother on the dance floor, he couldn’t see a way to avoid the conversation, especially when Margaret’s face was twelve inches away from his and she was holding him tightly.

  “My feelings, such as they are, won’t lead anywhere because I don’t intend to act on them,” he answered, his voice low but firm.

  She angled her head, studying him so intently he finally had to look away from her scrutiny. After a long moment, she sighed. “I am your mother and love you more than words. But I think it’s fair to say there are times I don’t understand you in the slightest. This is one of them.”

  “Because I don’t see the point in causing inevitable pain in two people by pursuing something with no possible future?”

  She stared at him. “No possible future? Why ever not?”

  “Samantha and I have completely different lives separated by five thousand miles. There’s no way to reconcile that. I see no point in dragging things out, prolonging the inevitable.”

  “Nothing is inevitable except that we’re all going to leave this life at some point.”

  “I’ve been through this once, Mother. You know what a disaster I made of that.”

  Margaret said nothing for a moment as the music continued, a soft, romantic ballad that only seemed to heighten the ache in his chest.

  “Now that sounds like an excuse to me if I’ve ever heard one. Please forgive me for saying this,” she finally said. “But Samantha and Susan are completely different women.”

  He knew that, entirely too well. He wasn’t sure they could be more different.

  “Agreed.”

  “You were married to Susan for five years and I never once saw you look at her the way you look at Samantha. As if she is your sun and your moon and all the stars in your sky.”

  Could everyone at the wedding see how he felt? He sincerely hoped only his mother was this observant.

  He purposely avoided her gaze. “How I look at her doesn’t matter.”

  “How can you say that?”

  Ian sighed. “It’s impossible, Mother. You have to see that.”

  “I see no such thing.”

  “I made a horrendous mistake with Susan. Despite that, two amazing children came out of that union. They are my priority. I can’t risk them being hurt, especially after everything they’ve been through with their mother these past few years.”

  “You’re older and far wiser now, son. Hard experience has given you a discernment that few others ever achieve. I know you have the good sense to make a far different choice now than you might have a decade ago.”

  He couldn’t disagree. He had made some very ill-considered decisions in his youth.

  “Anyway, Susan wasn’t really your choice,” his mother said softly. “You wouldn’t have married her if she hadn’t told you she was pregnant with Amelia, would you?”

  He closed his eyes, remembering how trapped and helpless he had felt when Susan had told him the news of her pregnancy.

  He hadn’t
wanted to marry her or anyone at that point in his life. In fact, he had been about to break off their relationship, which had begun as more of a convenience because their mutual friends were dating each other.

  “I married her, though, didn’t I? And had a second child with her.”

  Their marriage hadn’t been completely terrible. Sometimes he tended to forget that part. She had been a loving mother and they had tried to build a sturdy base for Amelia and later Thomas.

  “I tried to care about Susan, for your sake and the children’s,” Margaret said. “Despite all my efforts, we never quite clicked, which I think was as much my fault as hers.”

  “I can’t believe that.” As he recalled, his mother had been extraordinarily kind to Susan, generous to a fault. He could remember many times when she had taken her shopping or to one of her charity events where Susan had loved being the daughter-in-law to the Countess of Amherst.

  “I am only mentioning that to make the point that your father and I already adore Samantha. We both said earlier today how happy we were that you were bringing her here as your date to the wedding and that we hope you continue seeing her.”

  “How can I? It’s impossible,” he said again. “Samantha’s life is here in Haven Point. She has friends, a dog, a business she loves. Suppose we date long-distance and eventually decide we want a future together. She would have to give all that up and move to Dorset with me. You and I both know I no longer have the freedom to live anywhere I like. I am tied to Summerhill.”

  They had stopped dancing some time ago, without Ian fully realizing, and were standing on the edge of the dance floor. His mother, with her discerning eyes, placed a cool hand on his cheek, as if her touch could calm the turmoil inside him.

  “Oh, son. You say that like those are your only options, that you must either abandon the estate and move here or she must abandon her business and move to England with you.”

  “What else is there?”

  She looked sly suddenly. “For your information, I’ve been talking to the lovely Ms. Fremont about expanding her reach, moving into new markets with her dress designs. Why couldn’t she hire someone to run her store here, which would give her the chance to focus on her designs?”

  He remembered Samantha saying she would be a designer, if she had her choice. Would she seriously consider such a drastic step?

  “I can’t ask her to completely change her life like that,” he protested.

  Margaret gave him a pitying look. “Why not? Every woman has to radically change her life when she marries. Just like every man does, as well. Even if they don’t move across continents, they must make concessions and adjustments. If Samantha cares about you, she won’t mind.”

  “I have no idea how she feels,” he said.

  His mother smiled softly. “Remember I told you that you look at her with your heart in your eyes? Here’s the funny thing. When you’re not looking at her that way, she’s looking at you with the exact same expression.”

  He couldn’t help himself, he shifted his attention from his mother to Samantha. His gaze met hers across the dance floor and she immediately looked away, color seeping into her cheeks.

  Ian could feel his heartbeat accelerate. Was it possible? Could she share his growing feelings? Would she consider the possibility of someday making life changes that would enable them to be together?

  How could he possibly ask that of her? It seemed grossly unfair.

  He had never felt more trapped by the constraints placed on him now as his father’s heir. What if he could walk away from his life in England and move here with the children and study salmon to his heart’s content?

  No sense dealing in rhetorical questions. He couldn’t. Just as he had married Susan when he found out she was expecting his child, he could not walk away from his responsibilities as heir to Amherst.

  How much more bearable would those responsibilities be if he had Samantha at his side?

  The idea tantalized him as much as it tormented him.

  “You’re my son and I love you. But if you have feelings for Samantha and do nothing about them, I would be gravely disappointed in you,” his mother said. “I would hope no son of mine would throw away something that could be wonderful because of fear.”

  She was right. He loved Samantha. She filled his heart with joy and color and texture and he didn’t want to imagine a future without her in it.

  Yes, he had made mistakes in the past. His marriage had been a disaster. But Susan had never been the right choice for him.

  Something told him Samantha was that and more. No. She was the only choice. If he didn’t act on his feelings for her, Ian suspected he would spend the rest of his days alone and unhappy, living a life he didn’t want and aching for a woman he couldn’t have.

  * * *

  GEMMA SUMMERHILL’S WEDDING to Joshua Bailey would always have a place in Samantha’s memory as one of the most romantic and yet most difficult she had ever attended.

  She had found moments of pure joy, like dancing with Thomas and laughing at his free-spirited delight. Sitting beside Ian and holding his hand when Gemma and Josh had exchanged vows. Catching up with friends she hadn’t had the chance to see in too long.

  Twisting through the bright spots of the event was the inevitable knowledge that this evening was a watershed moment and only brought her one step closer to the day when Ian and his children would fly out of her life.

  “Everything okay?” Bowie asked, settling his sleeping daughter, Gabi, more comfortably in his arms. “You don’t seem like your usual happy self.”

  They sat at one of the round tables placed around the dance floor, where she had stopped to talk to Katrina a short time earlier, just before Kat had promptly been dragged away to dance with Milo.

  She sighed. “I love weddings. Don’t get me wrong.”

  “That’s probably a good thing, considering you design wedding gowns.”

  “Right?” She managed a smile. “They’re almost always joyful occasions. This one is, absolutely. Gemma and Josh are perfect for each other.”

  “But?” Bowie pressed.

  “I don’t know. Despite my happiness for them, sometimes at weddings I can’t help feeling a bit of melancholy.”

  It had nothing to do with her own marital status or that she didn’t have a family of her own, which might be the logical assumption.

  Weddings opened many doors but inevitably closed others.

  “Were you melancholy at ours?” Bowie asked. “If you were, I don’t think I noticed.”

  “I was sad to lose my best friend,” she admitted. “But I got over it quickly, especially once I accepted I was gaining another good friend in you, along with two adorable children.”

  “There you go,” he said with a smile.

  She didn’t have time to respond because Ian chose that moment to come over with two glasses of champagne. He handed one to her, which she took even though she knew she’d already had three, which was about two past her personal limit.

  “I’m the worst wedding date. I’ve hardly seen you all evening,” he said on an apologetic note.

  She had almost forgotten he was her date for the wedding—and also her ride home.

  “Ian, have you met Bowie Callahan? He’s lucky enough to be married to my best friend, Katrina. Bowie, this is Ian Summerhill. Gemma’s brother.”

  “I would shake your hand but I’m afraid mine are full at the moment,” Bowie said.

  “No worries.” Ian smiled easily. “I’ve been there myself. I’m fortunate enough to have a nanny, who only ten minutes ago took the children home, since my son was falling asleep on his feet and my daughter wasn’t far behind.”

  Samantha was sorry she hadn’t had the chance to say good night to the children before Mrs. Gilbert took them home for the evening.

  They made small talk for a few moments,
before Ian turned to her. “The champagne was a pretext,” Ian admitted. “In actuality, I was wondering if you might have a dance free for me.”

  Something about his solemn expression sent butterflies twirling through her. “Yes,” she said softly. She wanted to tell him he could have all the rest of her dances forever, but couldn’t seem to find the words, even if such a thing were possible.

  Leaving the champagne on the table, she took his hand and he led her out to the dance floor.

  She didn’t want this moment to end. She wanted to remember it for the rest of her life, dancing with the man she loved under a sky peppered with stars.

  “The moon is beautiful on the water here, isn’t it?” he murmured.

  She told herself it was the champagne that left her breathless, light-headed. “I’ve always loved the view from Snow Angel Cove. The lake and the mountains are the same but the perspective seems so different. There’s a beautiful spot down by the water where you can see all of Haven Point, and some of Shelter Springs, too.”

  “I would like to see that.”

  “It’s just through the trees there.” She gestured vaguely in the direction, though she couldn’t seem to take her gaze away from the intensity of his expression. Something was happening here. Something significant she didn’t understand.

  “Do you mind missing the rest of the dance?”

  She would much rather walk along the lakeshore with him, holding his hand and trying to pretend he wasn’t leaving in a few days.

  “I don’t mind,” she said.

  “Lead on,” he said.

  They slipped away from the dance floor, away from the lights and the crowd. The crushed gravel path was illuminated by small globes, their lights spilling down in small half circles.

  She was intensely aware of Ian walking beside her silently, his features veiled in darkness but his hand warm and comforting in hers.

  Finally the pine and spruce opened up a little, revealing a little hidden cove on the lake. They weren’t far from the wedding festivities but might as well have been in their own private world here. She couldn’t see the lights through the thick trees and even the music seemed muted.