Hometown Reunion

by Lisa Carter

  He poked a stick into the embers of the fire, sending sparks shooting skyward. “I like your dreams, Darcy. I’ve always thought it would be kind of cool to hike to Machu Picchu. Or scuba dive a pirate shipwreck in the Caribbean.”

  “I’m not as brave as you, Jax. Half of me wants to see what else is out there.” She rested her chin on her up-drawn knees. “And the other half can’t bear to leave what I love that’s here.”

  “Staying might be the bravest thing of all.” He pressed his shoulder against hers. “Where I went wrong from the start. And neither Adrienne or I were brave enough to fight for each other.” His voice deepened. “But that’s a mistake I won’t make again, I promise you.”

  Was he thinking of that last summer morning all those years ago? No, he couldn’t mean that. He was talking about his son. Of course he meant his son. He’d never walk away from Brody.

  She blinked moisture from her eyes. PKs didn’t cry. At least not in public. She must be more tired or hurt—her ankle, that is—than she’d realized.

  “I think it’s time to call it a night.”

  Scrambling to his feet, he took her arm. “Let me help...”

  “At your peril, Pruitt.”

  His smile was a sword lashing her heart. “I’m willing to take the risk.”

  But as he helped her over to her tent and said good-night, she acknowledged that the real heart in peril was her own.

  * * *

  The next morning she one-footed it out of the tent, to find Jax waiting for her on the other side of the flap. Eyes crinkling, he offered his arm, Prince Charming that he was.

  “Morning,” she grunted, but took his elbow. Violating the no-touch rule yet again.

  The paddlers downed the breakfast he’d made, and he’d already repacked the kayaks.

  She sighed. “You don’t need me anymore, Jax.”

  “I do need you.” He frowned. “I mean, Brody needs you. He’s come so far.”

  Brody...

  She lifted her chin. “Everyone about ready to head out?” She eyed the distance to her beached kayak. This was going to be tricky. “Jax, if I could use your arm for support I think I can hobble—”

  Darcy gasped as he swept her into his arms. “What are you doing?” Pressed against his shirt, could he feel the thundering of her heart?

  He took a step.

  “Jax...” Balance shifting, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Much better.” He strode past the fire pit.

  “Jax... Put me down.” Level with his jawline, she experienced a sudden longing to rest her cheek against his beard stubble.

  He plowed across the sand. “I like you here.”

  She liked being here—in his arms.

  “Getting in and out is the hardest, remember?” He tucked her into the kayak. “Do you need a tow?”

  With reluctance, she loosened her arms from around his neck. “It’s my ankle, not my biceps. I can make it on my own.”

  A faint smile touched his lips. “Like Brody. Got it.” Short tendrils of damp dark hair curled at the base of his neck.

  Her lungs emptied.

  Jax handed over the paddle. “Does this mean you’ve forgiven me?”

  As if not forgiving him had ever really been an option. The new, improved, mature Jax that she liked so much.

  Throwing caution—and good sense?—to the wind, she made a new resolution. To let go of past summers. And to enjoy the rest of whatever summer they had ahead of them. She nodded.

  With a bemused expression on his face, he gently pushed her kayak into the water. “Thank you, Darcy.”

  They drifted apart, still gazing at each other until somebody called Jax’s name, and he jerked. His muscles strained under his T-shirt as he carried another kayak to the water.

  And suddenly, Darcy had the uncomfortable feeling life in the Keys might not be the only dream God had placed in her heart.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was a perfect day for the annual Fourth of July celebration. White puffy clouds dotted the blue sky. Jax and Brody had gotten a later-than-intended start—the reality of single parenthood.

  He hadn’t seen Darcy in a few days. For once, she’d taken his advice: to stay off her ankle and let it heal. But he’d missed her. A lot. Too much?

  Cars lined Seaside Road. Parking was going to be a problem. He did a slow drive-by of the kayaking shop to be sure everything was okay.

  He spotted a colorful array of kayaks paddling across the harbor. Chas and the others had everything under control.

  Barring any emergencies, today was about Jax spending his all-time favorite holiday with his son. Their first Fourth of July together.

  With the road around the green closed to traffic, he took a side street and parked in front of his parents’ empty house.

  His folks were already at the festivities. Evy was running the Firecracker Book Sale, and Charlie was on duty somewhere.

  Once unbuckled, Brody scrambled out. “Dawcy?” Her house appeared as unoccupied as the Pruitts’ place.

  “She’s not there, buddy.”

  Brody’s lip poked out. “Me miss her.”

  Him, too. “How about we get something to eat?”

  Brody’s frown turned upside down. “Me hungwy.”

  Jax bit back a smile. Worked every time. He wasn’t sure what he would’ve done with a daughter. In some ways, boys were easier.

  Puffing out his chest, Brody refused to allow his father to carry him to the square. “Me big, Daddy.” But he tucked his hand into Jax’s. And smiled.

  Jax’s heart melted.

  Hand in hand—thanks to Darcy—father and son strolled toward the center of town. They emerged on the north side of the green to find the square had been transformed. Inside the gazebo, bedecked in patriotic bunting, a community band played strains of “This Is My Country.”

  Mounted on corner lampposts, red, white and blue ribbons fluttered in the breeze. Small American flags lined the sidewalks. Artisans had set up their colorful wares on tables scattered throughout the green.

  Children dashed everywhere. The aromas of fried dough, barbecue and clam burgers wafted across the green. Brody’s stomach growled. Wending their way around lawn chairs, they got in line at a food truck to order.

  They didn’t have to wait long. Sack in hand, Jax scanned the crowd, failing to spot the one face...

  He was as pathetic as his son, searching for the strawberry blonde who’d managed to make a home in his son’s heart. His, too? Jax scowled.

  “Anybody ever tell you one day your face is going to freeze like that?”

  Darcy scooped Brody into her arms, and smiled at him.Jax’s heart lurched when she smiled at him, too.

  “And then you’ll lose your touch with the women for good.”

  “Long time no see, Darce.”

  She tickled Brody’s belly. “Whatcha eating, Brode?”

  His son arched his back, squealing with laughter.

  Remembering the touch of her hand at the beach the other day, Jax felt his cheeks warm. He cleared his throat. “French fries and burgers.”

  Brody rested his chin on her shoulder.

  She tilted her head, tucking his head against her neck. And Jax missed a breath at the sweetness of her totally unconscious gesture. They were so achingly perfect together.

  “Where are y’all sitting, Jax?”

  Only with difficulty did he bring himself back from the idyllic image his son in Darcy’s arms painted.

  “Um...” He peered around the crowded green. “I should’ve brought chairs.”

  Brody nuzzled Darcy’s neck with his cheek. She kissed the top of his son’s head, and Jax thought his heart might explode.

  “M-maybe we’ll eat at the house,” he stammered.

  “And miss the fun?�
�� Her eyes sparkled, teasing him. “Why don’t you and Brody come eat with us?”

  “I couldn’t—”

  “Yay, Dawcy.” Brody bounced in her arms.

  “It’s settled then.”

  “Darcy, I—”

  “Unless you’ve made plans to meet someone.” The light in her eyes faded.

  “No plans.” He touched her arm. A mistake. Something as strong as an electrical current shot through his fingertips, jolting them both. His pulse raced.

  She stared at his hand on her arm. “No plans for Jax Pruitt might be a first,” she whispered.

  “There’s no one else.”

  No one but you, he wanted to shout. But he didn’t. After what happened with Adrienne, he couldn’t.

  “You’d be doing me a favor.” Her eyes fastened on his mouth before she tore her gaze away. “You know my mom. There’s only so many deviled eggs and so much fried chicken a girl can eat without losing her figure.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with your figure.”

  He blinked, surprised at himself. She blinked back, as surprised as he.

  “Me wike eggs, Daddy.”

  She settled big boy Brody on her hip. Not too big to be toted by Darcy. “Follow me then.”

  Darcy led them past Fourth of July revelers to a floral quilt on the church end of the square. She deposited Brody beside the wicker basket. Lithe as always, she folded her legs under her and sat down. She pulled out a plate of deviled eggs.

  “Where are your folks?” Jax was desperately fighting not to get too attached to the cozy vision of Darcy playing with his son in the grass.

  “Dad’s making the rounds as usual. Mom and the Independence Day committee are probably putting the finishing touches on the parade.”

  He dropped to his knees. “My parents, too.”

  Darcy held out a plate of chicken. As he reached for it, she pulled back. “Unless you’d rather eat the burgers.”

  He lunged, grabbing the plate. “Are you kidding me? Lose a chance at Agnes Parks’s cooking? Do you know me at all?”

  “Not as well as I thought.” She handed Brody a hush puppy. “Not as much as I’d like.” And she blushed, dropping her eyes.

  His heart clanged painfully against his ribs. To distract himself, he popped a deviled egg into his mouth and chewed. A stream of Kiptohanock residents stopped to say hello. Darcy was like everybody’s kid sister, dear niece and surrogate daughter.

  But to him, so much more.

  Jax sipped sweet tea from a red plastic cup. Darcy and her parents were well-liked. It wasn’t hard to see why. Barefoot, legs crossed, she laughed at something Izzie Clark said in passing.

  The only thing marring the perfection of the day was how Darcy kept describing to everyone the beachfront apartment she was moving into come September. His gut churned as he listened to details of her soon-to-be blissful new life in Florida.

  He put down the chicken leg, his appetite suddenly gone. “Where’s Margaret Davenport?” He craned his neck. “Doesn’t the queen of the Kiptohanock grapevine usually run these community gatherings? Or have things really changed since I left?”

  Darcy repacked the leftovers. “As a PK, there’s a lot I can’t discuss, as you know. But at this point, it’s general knowledge.”

  “Nothing’s happened to her, I hope. She’s bossy and a meddler, but she’s our bossy meddler.”

  “Margaret’s fine.” Darcy ran her finger around the rim of her cup. “Physically, at least. But on New Year’s, her absentee husband ran off with his secretary.”

  Jax’s mouth fell open. “I’d forgotten she even had a husband.”

  “Even though they’d been unhappily married for decades and living separate lives, naturally she was devastated by the divorce.”

  He looked away. “No one wants to be a failure.”

  Darcy’s eyes flicked to his. “Margaret handed off her Fourth of July responsibilities to Mom and the committee. Supposedly she’s on a cruise in the Caribbean, reevaluating her life.”

  Lot of that was going around these days. He could definitely relate, and silently, he wished the indefatigable Margaret well.

  The large metal bell on the end of the wharf clanged, and Darcy hopped to her feet. Everyone around them rose.

  Jax hoisted Brody into his arms as all eyes turned toward the flagpole at the Coast Guard station. The band fell silent. The American flag crackled, stretching taut in the stiff breeze blowing off the harbor.

  Brody hung on to Jax’s neck. “Is it time, Daddy?”

  His lips quirked, anticipating Darcy’s surprise. “Just like we practiced.”

  “What’ve you boys been up to now?”

  Coast Guard station commander Braeden Scott spoke into the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, let us join together in reciting the Pledge of Allegiance.”

  Brody placed his hand over his heart like they’d practiced. “Me say pwedge, Dawcy.”

  Everyone stood taller, straighter. As a veteran, Jax raised his hand to his forehead in a salute.

  “I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America...” Voices rang out across the green.

  Brody lifted his chin. “And to the pubwic for which it stands...”

  Her lips curved. “One nation under God. Indivisible.”

  Brody broadened his skinny shoulders. “With wiberty...”

  Her gaze never strayed from the flag, but merriment winked in her eyes.

  “And justice for aw.” His little chest puffed with pride in a job well done.

  She patted Brody’s leg. Jax exchanged amused glances with Darcy.

  The reverend moved to the mic. “Let us pray.”

  He gave thanks for their great nation, for the sacrifice of all who safeguarded their country, and for the freedom they enjoyed.

  Next, Jax’s brother-in-law, Ryan, walked a young Latina girl to the platform. “Maria Guzman will now sing the National Anthem.” He adjusted the mic to her height.

  She was one of Anna’s at-risk students, Jax recalled. Her proud parents and two younger siblings beamed from the sidelines. She had a sweet, clear tone. A hush fell over the audience. Even Brody stilled.

  Jax had loved serving his country. Standing there, he remembered friends who’d died in faraway places so he could be here on this perfect July day with his son. And he also thought of Adrienne’s sacrifice.

  For the first time, thoughts of Adrienne no longer brought a stabbing pain, but gratitude. She’d given him Brody. And despite the turmoil they’d brought each other, he would never regret having his son. He had so much to be grateful for.

  A tendril of Darcy’s strawberry blonde hair brushed his cheek. Was it possible? Was there still so much to look forward to?

  Jax maintained the salute until the last note echoed over the blue-green water.

  * * *

  The church bell rang from the steeple. Darcy watched the play of emotion on Jax’s face. The band launched into “America the Beautiful.”

  She’d never really understood before. He’d been willing to offer his life for the country he loved. And his wife had made the ultimate sacrifice. What must it be like to be a part of something so much larger than one’s self?

  Did she love anyone or anything that much? Yes, she loved Jax and Brody enough to sacrifice her life. Stunned at the realization, she blinked rapidly. Was it true?

  Somewhere, somehow, this deep, deep liking had become something far more. And it scared Darcy. Terrified her. Because in giving them her love, she gave them the power to also crush her heart.

  In the middle of this earth-shattering revelation, Jax’s father found them. “I need to borrow the little man for a while.” He gave her a one-armed hug. “Hey, Darcy Parks.”

  To many, the retired deputy sheriff was an intimidating man. But to her, he was a m
an who’d cheered as loudly for her as he’d cheered for Anna, his daughter. Too often Darcy’s own father had been too busy to attend their volleyball games.

  Brody held out his arms to his granddad.

  Jax cocked his head. “What’s going on?”

  Everett winked at his grandson. “Never you mind, Jaxon. Brody and I have a surprise planned. We’ll see you at the parade.”

  Just like that, Darcy was left alone with Jax and her new, disturbing feelings for him.

  He plopped down on the quilt. “Did you say your mom sent pie?”

  Jax grinned. Her stomach took a nosedive. She handed him a slice.

  “Doesn’t get more American than your mom’s apple pie.” Taking a bite, he sighed, rolling the flavor in his mouth.

  She plucked a blade of grass, twirling it between her fingers. She felt strangely awkward, her feelings raw and exposed.

  Her mom bustled over, laying two small flags on the quilt. “For the parade. It’s starting soon.”

  “Miss Agnes, you’ve outdone yourself.” Jax laid his hand over his heart. “There were many Fourths I’d had given a month’s wages to have your pie.”

  What a kiss-up.

  But her mom’s face lit up, and Darcy smiled, watching him effortlessly work her mother. Then she grimaced. Working her mother like he worked all the ladies.

  Agnes patted his cheek as if he were Brody, instead of the hunky, thirty-two-year-old... Darcy fanned herself. She stopped when she saw her mother laughing.

  “Don’t forget to get a good spot for the parade.” Her mom’s eyes twinkled. “I have it on good authority there’s an entry you don’t want to miss.” She drifted away to distribute more flags.

  Jax dug into the pie. “Do you have any idea about what she and my dad are being so mysterious about?”

  Darcy shook her head. “I know a prime location, though, to find out.”

  After gobbling the last forkful, he sprang to his feet and started gathering the remains of their picnic. He deposited the trash as she led him toward a vantage point on a less crowded side of the square.

  With a shout and blare of trumpets, the parade began. The high school marching band—in casual summer attire—performed a swinging “It’s a Grand Old Flag.” Followed by pets and their owners on leashes. The pets, that is.