It Began with a Crush (The Cherry Sisters)

by Darcy, Lilian

  All he needed.

  Someone to care. Someone to listen, and talk him down from the ledge when his fears for the girls ballooned out of control for no apparent reason.

  Was she right? Did he worry so much because he’d never really had anyone to share the worry with?

  Let me share it with you, Mary Jane.

  He had a rush of intuition so powerful it almost made him groan out loud.

  This woman belonged in his life. He hadn’t known her long. Not really. High school didn’t count.

  And yet at the same time, it did count. He felt as if it did. Their whole shared background counted. Her family had been bringing their cars to Dad ever since he could remember. He’d driven past the pretty painted wooden sign at the top of Spruce Bay Resort’s driveway more times than he knew.

  He remembered her smart, diligent presence in high school classrooms. She’d done her reading and spoke out with intelligence in class, while he’d hammed it up in the back row, caring more about getting a laugh from his friends than about actually passing the course.

  She’d been a member of all the clubs, not taking on the high-profile roles but working in the background, keeping everything smooth, hosing down conflict and cliques and bullying. He remembered her receiving all sorts of awards for leadership and teamwork and community service.

  No wonder he trusted her. She’d earned that trust nearly twenty years ago, when neither of them could have recognized the fact, because his trust of women wasn’t something he valued back then. He’d trusted his mom, of course. But she was just Mom. Girls weren’t people to trust, they were for going after with his own very narrow agenda.

  Thank the lord he’d grown up since then!

  His heart felt full to bursting, and his mind was racing while she grew sleepier as she lay behind him, cradling his body against her soft stomach and breasts.

  Don’t blow this, Joe. Keep seeing her. Be good to her. See where it goes. Find out if the girls like her. Find out what she really thinks about them.

  This afternoon he’d told her two hours, but ended up staying for seven. In the end, at almost four-thirty after they’d slept awhile, he only dragged himself out of her bed because of Dad and the girls, and he spent the whole drive home trying to find ways to shoehorn more time with Mary Jane into his life without dropping any of the balls he’d been desperately juggling for so long.

  *

  Mary Jane missed Joe horribly when he left.

  Missed him physically, like an ache, or like being without a coat in a bitter wind. She knew he had to go home. She’d fallen asleep somewhere around two, and a couple of hours later he’d woken her gently, leaning down from a standing position beside the bed and already fully dressed. “Didn’t want to just disappear while you were asleep. Really have to go.”

  “I know. That’s fine,” she told him sleepily.

  “Just lock the door behind me, downstairs?”

  “Yes, or do you want me to come down?”

  “No. Stay.”

  “Okay.”

  “Night. Sweet dreams. See you as soon as I can.”

  “Hope so.” She watched his shadowy figure move through the room and out the open bedroom door, then listened to him going downstairs, the rhythm of his feet hurried, as if shaving thirty seconds off his journey from her room to the car would make up for him being about five hours later getting home than he’d planned.

  Before she even heard the sound of his car, the missing him started. The bed felt colder, and the doubts kicked in.

  She shouldn’t miss him so much. It was dangerous, made her vulnerable. This was all happening too fast, leaving her no time to catch her breath or keep herself safe. And no time to work out what was reality and what was the fantasy she’d wanted for so long.

  Sleep refused to return, and the yearning in her felt like coiled ropes around her body. When the alarm went off at six-thirty, she knew she’d barely dozed since he left, and yet all she could think of were his last words. “See you as soon as I can.”

  She waited all day for him to call.

  And he did, that night at seven when she’d just gotten back to the office after several hours of trouble-shooting various problems around the resort. She was tired and irritable and she knew it, but as soon as she heard his voice, any intention to have a sensible early night vanished at once.

  “How’re you doing?” he said, dropping his voice to an intimate pitch that made the strength drain from her limbs. Oh, that was such a cliché, but it was true! If she hadn’t been sitting at the desk, she would have sagged against it.

  “Good,” she said, struggling to breathe right. “How about you?”

  “Was good. Until I realized there’s no way I can see you till Wednesday.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, I know. But I have to study. If I don’t make time for that…”

  “Of course. You don’t have to explain.”

  Or was he making excuses already?

  “How about you?” he asked. “Can you do Wednesday? Same as last night? Late, for a few hours.”

  “Y-yes, I think so.”

  “And then maybe you could come over Thursday evening, just for a family dinner with Dad and me and the girls?”

  “Um, as long as Nickie can do the evening in the office.”

  “If you don’t want to…”

  “No, I do.”

  “Let me know about it, then, when you can.”

  “I will.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  She took a breath and went for the same honesty. “Me, neither, Joe.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Joe delivered the girls to the Richardsons’ cottage on schedule on Friday morning, for their seventh full day of pony camp, then headed back into town to open up the garage, congratulating himself for having lucked into such a perfect arrangement.

  Maddie and Holly were having the time of their lives with ponies and new friends. They often talked about Mary Jane and how they’d seen her at the resort, and she’d brought out special pool toys for them or given them a snack. They thought the only place in the world better than Penelope’s horse farm was Spruce Bay.

  On top of this, Dad was getting a break, Joe’s share of Lucy’s wages wasn’t breaking the bank and he thought he’d be able to grab some study time in the garage office today if he was lucky, because he only had a few vehicles booked in.

  And if he managed enough study time, he would call Mary Jane and see if they could meet up tonight. In bed or out of it, he really didn’t care. Although some of both would be very, very nice….

  Wednesday night with Mary Jane had been glorious, and Thursday dinner with the family as good, although very different. She was terrific with the girls, not too gushy and not afraid to be firm with them when they needed it, but warm and genuine. She never brushed them aside, or made him feel that she was only putting on a show for his sake.

  If this had been an audition, she would have moved to the very top of the callback list.

  It was an audition, in many ways. Maybe he shouldn’t be thinking of it that way, but he didn’t know what else to do. The girls were as much of a test for Mary Jane as his impending bar exam was for him, and Mary Jane passing that test was even more important than him passing the bar.

  She’s passing, Joe. Don’t worry about it.

  Dad had been out Thursday evening, catching up over a beer and a bar meal with some old buddies, so it was just the four of them, and if this was part of the test—how they performed together as a family—they’d all passed with flying colors, not just Mary Jane.

  For once in his life, Joe felt as if he might be getting something right from the word go, instead of making a bucket-load of horrible mistakes that took him years to claw his way back from.

  The congratulatory feeling lasted until four minutes past eleven on Friday morning, when the phone call came.

  “Mr. Capelli?” It was Nanny Lucy on the other end of the line. “There’s been a problem here
, I’m afraid.” She sounded very much on edge, and a little shaky.

  His heart lurched and began to pound at once.

  The girls!

  “Everything’s fine. I mean, the girls are fine. But you need to come right away, if you possibly can. Penelope wants to speak to you.”

  “What’s happened? You said they’re fine.”

  “There was an incident.”

  “An incident?” What the hell?

  “Are you able to come?”

  “Yes. Well, ten minutes?” He’d have to grab Dad, who was probably napping. There were clients due to pick up the cars Joe had just finished working on. “But can’t you explain on the—”

  “Better wait until you can talk to Penelope.”

  Shoot! What parent had any patience after being told something like that?

  He ended the call quickly, since Lucy clearly wasn’t going to give him any detail, and immediately called his father. Dad didn’t pick up. He tried again, same result. Edgy as a caged animal, he closed up the garage and jumped in the car, drove home pushing the speed limit and screeched up the driveway. Dad’s car was here, so…

  “Must have been asleep” was his father’s explanation, after Joe had let himself in the back door and gone through the house calling for him.

  “You didn’t hear the phone? I called twice.”

  “Had the bedroom door shut. But what’s up, son?”

  He explained as quickly as he could, playing it down so as not to worry a doting grandfather, but of course that didn’t work. Dad only had more questions—ones that Joe couldn’t answer because Lucy had told him so little.

  “Just an incident, she said, and that the girls are fine, but Penelope wants to speak to me. That’s seriously all I know, Dad, so that’s why I need to drop you at the garage while I go up there and see what the problem is.”

  “I’ll get my shoes and socks on.”

  He was slow about it. He’d become perceptibly slower at those kinds of things since Joe had moved back here, compared to how he’d been during his last visit. Joe had to swallow words of impatience that wouldn’t have quickened Dad’s pace.

  The girls were fine. That was all that mattered.

  He kept telling himself this but it didn’t help, because clearly not everything was fine, and all his fears came rushing into their familiar home in his heart. He never managed to keep those fears at bay for that long, remembering the girls’ mother and their messed-up first few years.

  He thought again about Mary Jane and the times they’d spent together this past week. Not the sex, although that had been amazing, but the way they’d dozed in bed afterward until he’d roused himself enough to dress and come home, or the way they’d talked and laughed…and kissed…in the kitchen, making dinner, while the girls played in the next room.

  He remembered how she’d fitted so warm and perfect against him in bed, how good she’d smelled all the time, how happy she’d seemed in his company, and how she didn’t try to hide it. He guessed she never played those kinds of games, and he loved her for that.

  Could he call her? Would it help to have her with him for the “talk” with Penelope?

  He wanted to, hugely, as soon as he thought of the idea, but didn’t know what Penelope would think. Mary Jane had made the initial connection between them, yes, but Maddie and Holly were his, and whatever they’d done—he was already sure that they must have done something—he had to sort it out and take responsibility. Despite last night’s impressive audition, Mary Jane wasn’t a part of his family yet.

  Dad was finally ready, making sure he had keys and wallet and handkerchief…and driving Joe slowly, inexorably crazy in the process.

  C’mon, Dad!

  He dropped him at the garage, then tore along the lake and up the hill, and Penelope was waiting for him. No sign of Lucy, Jessica, Simon or the girls.

  He had to ask. “Where are they?”

  “Lucy’s taken them back to the motel.”

  “What happened?”

  “I’m afraid there was an incident.”

  He wanted to yell his impatience, but managed to speak calmly. Cheerfully, even. “Yes, so Lucy said, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

  Penelope took a deep breath. “First, I have to tell you that I do hold myself responsible.”

  “You were there?”

  “No, but it’s my property, and ultimately that means I’m to blame.”

  “For what? Please…”

  “Yes.” She seemed to realize how crazy this was making him, and launched into the story. “Maddie forgot her helmet in the tack room after morning tea, when they were about to ride. Lucy sent her and Holly back there together to find it, telling them—as I have told them more than once—not to do anything but bring the helmet. On the way back, the girls passed one of the day yards where my stallion, Glengarlow Breve, is kept.”

  Joe heard the word stallion and every muscle in his body went tight.

  “He’d knocked over his feed bucket,” Penelope was saying, “and the girls decided to go in there and set it right for him.”

  “What happened?” He began to sweat. “You said they’re fine…”

  “They are fine. Nothing happened. Lucy thought they’d been gone too long and went to check on them. She found them just as they’d righted the bucket and stepped back. She had them out of there at once, with no damage done, but they were very, very lucky that Glen didn’t bite or kick because he’s extremely possessive about his food and he wouldn’t have understood that they were trying to help him. He could have done some serious damage.”

  “So that’s…a lot better than it could have been.” He felt shaky, though.

  The girls were fine. The girls were fine.

  Penelope seemed a little shaky, too. “It is, but the point is, they’d been told quite clearly that all they were to do was bring the helmet, and they’ve been told several times that they are never, ever to go into any of the yards or stables or fields without express permission and without an adult with them. I can’t have it, Joe. I’ll be having nightmares, as it is, about what would have happened if Glen had lashed out.”

  He knew what was coming, and said it for her. “So this is the end of pony camp?”

  “I’m afraid so.” She sounded reluctant about it, disappointed at having to break the news.

  It was nothing compared to what Joe felt. For a moment, he didn’t trust his voice to speak, and when he finally did, it wasn’t what he’d planned to say.

  Please give them another chance. They won’t do it again.

  “Where were you when this was happening?” he asked scratchily instead.

  “Vanessa and Phil and I were out doing some cross-country training with their eventing horses. The jumps are on a part of the property you haven’t seen, in the woods, out of sight of any of the buildings. Joe, I’ve already told you that I blame myself. Telling the girls not to go near to my horses wasn’t enough. I should have made sure of it by not ever having them out of an adult’s sight. They’re only seven, younger than the children I mostly have here. I do know that. But this has spooked me, and I feel I was too hasty in agreeing to the arrangement in the beginning.”

  “I understand.”

  “I have to be able to trust children to do exactly as they’re told, because there are too many ways to get into trouble around horses if they decide to use their own initiative.”

  “Yes, so I realize.”

  Give them another chance.

  “Mary Jane is a terrific woman, and all my clients are always very happy with their stay at Spruce Bay. When she approached me about this…”

  “It’s not her fault.”

  “No, absolutely not.”

  “Thanks for giving it a try.”

  “I’m sorry. I should perhaps have considered the issues for longer before I said yes.”

  “No, I get it. I’m just glad the girls are safe.”

  “They’re lovely little riders, very eager to learn, lo
vely girls. Just a little too enthusiastic for their own good.”

  “Thanks. Yeah, I know about the enthusiasm.”

  There wasn’t a lot more to say. He left shortly afterward, with Penelope reiterating her regret, her acceptance of blame and her conviction that the pony camp arrangement had to end.

  Halfway down the hill, he pulled over to get himself together and think about what he needed to do next.

  Pick up the girls. First item on the list.

  He couldn’t leave them in Lucy’s care when the whole arrangement had fallen apart. He didn’t know where Vanessa and Phil were, but had vaguely noticed some dust kicking up from the open-air dressage arena behind the barn, so maybe that had been them, working their horses. Or maybe they were still out doing the cross-country jumps.

  A few minutes later, he drove down the resort driveway in bright noon sunshine, remembering how very differently he’d felt driving down it Monday night and Wednesday night in the dark. All that juicy-sweet anticipation about seeing Mary Jane, compared with this. Breaking the bad news to the girls, dealing with no doubt quite a large degree of awkwardness between himself, the Richardsons and Lucy.

  Did Lucy feel to blame, also?

  He didn’t know where to park. Down in front of the Richardsons’ cottage?

  He wasn’t ready for it yet. He just wasn’t. Seeing the girls’ faces, confused about why he was here. Had Penelope spoken to them at all? Had Lucy? Did they know they were in trouble? Did they have any idea what they’d done, or what could have happened?

  No, he needed more time to think.

  Needed someone to talk to.

  Needed Mary Jane.

  He parked in front of the office, and when she saw him through the window her face lit up.

  *

  What was Joe doing here, in the middle of the day?

  They hadn’t made an arrangement to see each other today, although he’d been hopeful last night that they might manage something. Mary Jane knew how hard it was for him, and had been imagining him at the garage, snatching time for bar exam study, running legal case studies in his head while he lay under an engine, covered in sweat and grease.

  What was he doing here, instead?