by Skye Taylor
He’d spoken to her no more than half a dozen times and knew almost nothing about her. Well, maybe not nothing. She was his new sister-in-law’s best friend. She was Sam’s mother. She worked at Kett’s Hotel, but he wasn’t sure what her job there was. She was a war widow, but the only thing he knew about Sam’s father was a guess. An Army Ranger and hero would be a hard act to follow. And she looked cute with a pink nose in an oversized sweatshirt and dorm pants.
He’d known all the women he’d had relationships with since high school a whole lot better than Brianna Reagan. He’d even proposed to one of them and only realized how lucky his escape had been months after she’d dumped him, and he’d gotten over feeling sorry for himself. But none of them, not even Linda, had touched him the way Brianna Reagan did. She had the voice of a siren and a smile that made his heart skip a beat. But beyond that, he was at a loss. Introspection wasn’t his thing. Doing was.
If he found something he liked, he went after it. And he definitely liked Brianna Reagan.
There had to be a lot of her in the boy sitting behind him still jabbering happily about something Will had completely zoned out on. Maybe that was what attracted him. He’d only known Sam for a few months, but everything he’d learned he liked. If he ever had a son someday, he’d want him to be like Sam Reagan.
“Aunt Zoe isn’t really my aunt, you know.” Sam paused, apparently waiting for Will to respond.
Dragged back into the conversation by Sam’s question, Will murmured his understanding of the relationship.
“But I call her that ’cause she’s Mom’s best friend. Anyway, her little baby can’t hear very well. That’s just not fair.”
Again Will murmured agreement. It wasn’t fair, but then life wasn’t always fair.
His brother Jake had been completely broken up about the hearing issues when they first found out. There had been a sheen of tears in his eyes as he imparted the news to Will and their parents. What a bittersweet night for Jake. The woman he had fallen head over heels in love with had accepted his proposal of marriage. But only minutes before that, Jake learned that the baby he’d delivered in the middle of a hurricane had been born with severe hearing loss. Jake was horrified, thinking it might have been something he had done wrong on that stormy night when it was just him and Zoe laboring to bring her baby into the world. Zoe assured him it was not his fault, but the relief was brief, because Jake already loved the little girl as much as if she’d been his own child, and his heart ached for the difficulties she would face in life.
“So, I want to learn sign language. It’s in the Wolf handbook, you know,” Sam explained, bringing Will back to the current conversation a second time.
Will had checked out the pages with a chart of the more common illustrations for American Sign Language after he’d talked to Jake. He’d been skimming the book to get up to speed when he took over the den last fall, and because of Molly, those pages had caught his attention. But then he’d forgotten them until now.
“I think that would be an excellent plan. Maybe Rick would like to work on it with you. Molly is his cousin, and he’ll need to know how to talk with her, too.”
Sam flung himself back in his seat with a grunt of disapproval, then was ominously silent.
Will glanced at him in the rearview mirror. There was a frown on Sam’s face.
“That a problem, sport?”
“I’m still going to be her special cousin. Aunt Zoe said so.” Sam’s lower lip protruded belligerently, and he stared resolutely out the window, not meeting Will’s gaze.
Will’s former street came up on the left, and he had to wait for a gap in the traffic before he could make the turn. A pang of nostalgia tugged at him. He was going to miss living on this street lined with old homes and older trees. Many of the stately homes, like the one Will had lived in for the last three years, were divided into two-family homes, with an apartment up and another down. The sidewalks were paved with old bricks, uneven in many places where tree roots had grown close to the surface. The elegance of the neighborhood was still impressive in spite of the run-down appearance of some of the dwellings.
“We’re here,” Will announced as he turned into his old driveway.
Judging by the sulky look on Sam’s face, it looked like there was a serious discussion ahead. Will got out of the Jeep, walked around to Sam’s door, then opened it, and squatted to Sam’s level.
“Want to talk about it?”
“I got to see her first. I’m her special cousin,” Sam answered after a lengthy pause. “I wanted to learn the signs so I can teach her, and we can be able to talk to each other. Just her and me.”
Will rocked back on his heels. Rick and Sam were the best of friends, but it appeared Sam had a little case of jealousy. He was an only child, and maybe that had something to do with it. Bree and Zoe had been friends since their early teens, so it was natural that Sam would feel like Zoe was someone special in his life, and by extension, Zoe’s new baby.
Will’s nephew Rick, on the other hand, had one brother already, and his mother was pregnant with twin girls. Rick had a half-dozen cousins, but maybe Sam had none at all. That might explain this jealously guarded honorary cousin.
“Learning how to sign is a good plan, Sam.” Will put a hand on Sam’s knee. “You can get a bead for your uniform, and then you can teach everyone else how to sign. Molly will need all the special people she can get, starting with you. And if everyone can talk to her, think how much happier that will be for her.”
“I guess.” Sam’s lip had receded.
“How about if I learn the signs with you? Would that be okay? I’m Molly’s uncle, and I might need to learn them, too.”
Sam looked up into Will’s eyes. The expression of loss and hurt struck Will’s heart like a blow. “I wish you were my uncle,” Sam said in a soft, pained voice.
Will didn’t want to promise Sam anything he couldn’t deliver, but he wanted to take away that lost look in the bright blue eyes that were so like his own. “I can be your friend.”
Sam looked uncertain.
“Sometimes friends are better than relatives. Cousins and brothers are born to you, but a friend is someone you choose.”
“I’m just a kid.”
“Well, sometimes my family thinks I’m just a big kid.”
“Little kids can’t do lotsa stuff, and I always gotta ask my mom before I can go anywhere.”
“I think I can deal with that. As long as you can deal with me having to do grown-up things you can’t do a lot of the time, there are other things we could do together besides learning how to sign.”
“What kind of other things?” Sam looked willing to be convinced.
“Have you ever been fishing?”
Sam shook his head. “Mom says Daddy used to go fishing, but he never took me. I wasn’t big enough. Do you think I’m big enough now?”
“You are definitely big enough.” Will stood up and stepped back. “I’ve got plenty of extra fishing gear. It’s one of the things I came back to get today. That and Bruce.”
“Who’s Bruce?” Sam unbuckled his seatbelt and jumped to the ground, his sunny humor restored.
For a moment, Will had feared that mention of his father would sink Sam further into gloom, but it hadn’t. It was a subject Will knew would probably come up at some point, but he was glad it wasn’t going to be today.
“Bruce is my cat.”
“I didn’t know you had a cat.” Sam bounded toward the house.
“Well, I didn’t have one before this week. He belonged to the man who used to live downstairs from me. But my neighbor went to live with his son, and he couldn’t take Bruce with him.”
Will caught up and reached around Sam to unlock the door. Bruce was waiting just inside and began winding his way around Will’s legs as soon as they
stepped into the hall.
Will introduced Sam to the cat and went to collect the cat’s litter box and dishes. When he returned, Sam was seated on the floor petting Bruce, and the cat was responding by arching his back with every stroke. Will took the stairs to his old apartment two at a time and took a quick look around to make sure nothing had been left behind. Then he returned to the first floor and found the cat carrier in the sunroom where his former landlord told him it would be. He blew the dust off and carried it back to the kitchen.
Sam clambered to his feet. “I’ve gotta pee.”
Will pointed the way to the bathroom, then gathered the cat into his arms and eased him into the carrier.
Sam appeared at Will’s elbow. “There’s no water coming down in the toilet.”
“What do you mean, there’s no water?”
“I pushed the lever, but no water came down.”
“Guess we better check it out, then.”
Sam scampered back to the bathroom and was pushing the lever repeatedly by the time Will caught up. “See? No water.” He pushed it one last time for emphasis.
Will lifted the lid off the tank. The chain linking the stopper to the lever had broken. All his desk stuff had already been moved to the new apartment.
“I could fix this in a jiffy if only I had a paper clip.” Will racked his brain trying to think what else might work, but his tools and other odd bits and pieces had been moved over to Ben’s garage. Maybe a leader from his tackle box?
“I know where there’s a paper clip,” Sam offered, his face alight with eagerness.
“You do?”
“Yeah. I saw one in the little pocket on the door in your Jeep. Want me to get it for you?” He was halfway out the door before Will had a chance to agree.
A minute later Sam was back triumphantly bearing the paper clip. It took only seconds longer to reconnect the two ends of the chain. Will put the lid back, then gestured to Sam. “Give it a try.”
Sam flushed, then grinned as if Will had performed some miraculous sleight of hand. “You must know how to fix everything.”
“A lot of things, but not everything. Especially not computers. I’m betting you’re better than me with computers.”
“Mom says I’m a whiz with computers,” Sam agreed. “If you ever need your computer fixed, just ask me.” He led the way out of the bathroom.
Bruce sat hunched in his carrier blinking slowly in the way of wise cats.
“Are you strong enough to carry Bruce out to the Jeep?”
Sam bunched his fist and showed Will his muscle. “You bet I am.”
Will gathered up all of Bruce’s paraphernalia and held the door open for Sam. It looked awkward with the carrier banging against Sam’s knees, but Will decided not to help. He locked up the house and followed Sam to the Jeep. “Now all we need is my fishing gear.”
RAP, RAP, RAP. Sam banging a toy on the rail of his crib. I should get up, but I’m so tired. Ed’s due home in just two days, and there’s so much to do. He likes everything “squared away.” Just a few more minutes.
Rap, rap, rap. Bree dragged her eyelids open. Late afternoon sun slanted across the bed, and for a moment, she couldn’t recall where she was. Then it all came back to her.
Ed was gone, and Sam hadn’t slept in a crib for years.
Rap, rap, rap.
Someone was at the door.
She pushed the afghan aside and got to her feet. She stopped at the dresser to run a brush through her hair, frowned at the bed wrinkles still visible on her cheek, and tried to rub them away.
Rap, rap, rap.
“I’m coming.” She tried to keep the impatience out of her voice.
It couldn’t be Sam. He had his own key. But she wasn’t expecting anyone else, was she?
She pulled the door open and stared stupidly at Bob. Her mind was still half asleep, and her head felt like she’d been drugged.
“Aren’t you going to ask me in?” Bob squinted at her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m—I was asleep.” She backed into the living room to allow him entrance. “How did you get into the building?”
“Your downstairs neighbor was headed out just as I was arriving.” Bob started to step past her, then stopped. “Did you forget about the meeting?” He reached a hand toward her face, then let it drop without touching her. “Your nose is red. Are you feeling all right?”
She had forgotten about the meeting. She’d pretty much slept the day away. A luxury only possible because of Will’s generosity in letting Sam tag along with him first to church and then to his old apartment this afternoon.
“It’s just a cold. I’m feeling much better now. Better than I was this morning, anyway. But I don’t think I’ll make the meeting, after all. I’m sorry you had to drive all the way over here for nothing.”
Bob hesitated. “Don’t worry about it. Do you want me to stay? I can skip the meeting. If you’re hungry maybe I can order a pizza or something.”
“No need. I’ve got leftovers to heat up. And it’s an important meeting. You should go.”
“If you’re sure.” He hovered between her and the door.
“I’m sure.”
“Well, then,” he said as he stepped back into the hall. “I’ll call you tomorrow and fill you in.” Then he turned and strode down the hall toward the elevator.
Bree shut the door behind him and leaned against it. She’d better call Meg and let her know why Sam wasn’t getting dropped off to spend the evening with Rick. Then she was going to make herself a cup of tea and see if she could restore herself to some semblance of a human being before Will returned with her son.
Chapter 6
BREE HADN’T BEEN the only one unable to make the historical society meeting, and a makeup meeting had to be called to address two pieces of important new business. Bree could barely contain her enthusiasm for the new project she had just volunteered for. They were finally going to start working on the restoration of the old Jolee Plantation. The Restoration Committee of four—Tony Jenkins, the town tax collector’s husband, Bob, Zoe, and herself—was eager to get started, and they’d come to Joel’s to discuss it over coffee and dessert.
Their small party sorted itself out, and Zoe led the way, sliding into a booth first. Bree followed her in, ignoring Bob’s frown. Bob pressed his lips into a tight line as he joined Tony on the opposite bench. Bob was irritated by her behavior, but she didn’t care. His touchy-feely possessiveness had begun with his insistence on picking her up for the historical society meeting she’d been planning to attend with Zoe, and it had continued all evening. If it hadn’t been for Tony’s suggestion to stop at Joel’s, Bree would have been happy to pick her son up and go straight home.
“So, we’re the new committee. Anyone care to volunteer to chair it?” Tony was a tireless advocate of the historical society, but he already chaired two other committees and was probably hoping not to add a third.
Bree kept silent. She and Zoe were the newcomers in the group. Bob enjoyed being on committees and getting involved, but Bree knew he didn’t feel comfortable taking on the job of making things run smoothly.
“I will,” Zoe offered tentatively.
“Excellent.” Tony applauded her. “So, Madam Chairwoman. Want to bring this meeting of the Restore the Jolee Plantation Committee to order?”
“Hi, folks. What can I get you?” Margie Barnes leaned over the table, then air-kissed Bree and Zoe. She nodded at Bob and Tony. “We’ve still got a few slices of Joel’s best pecan pie. Coffee all around?” She made a circle with her forefinger.
“No coffee for me,” Zoe demurred. “Got any decaf tea? No pie either, thanks.”
Margie took their order—pie and coffee for the men, tea for the ladies—then turned away to check on the next table over.
“Money!” Tony rolled his eyes. “It’s always money.”
“As in fund-raising?” Zoe asked.
Tony pulled a sheaf of folded papers from his pocket and laid it on the table. “The whole society will get involved, but we need to come up with ideas to present first.”
Bob turned the papers his way and studied Tony’s notes. Then scribbled a few of his own in the margins.
“We have no idea what this project is going to cost, to start with,” Bob said.
“I’m sure I can get Jake to help with that,” Zoe offered. “He’s mostly into new construction, but he’s done a couple restorations over in Wilmington. He won’t mind pulling together a ballpark figure. Something to aim for.”
Bree finally had an idea to offer. “The Spring Festival is in just a couple months. Can we get something going before then?”
By the time the pie and drinks were delivered, Tony had added another whole page to his original notes, and they’d moved on to rumors of ghosts on the property in question.
“If it’s ghosts at the old Jolee place you’re discussing,” Margie said as she set the pie in front of the men, “I know just who you need to talk to.”
“Who?” Zoe and Bree asked in unison.
“Emmy Lou Davis knows everything there is to know about the old plantation. She was second cousin to the last Jolee who actually lived there. I think she used to play there. Back when they were kids, that is. Stop by her antique shop some afternoon and ask. Once she gets going, you won’t be able to shut her up. Why are you interested, anyway?”
Bob jumped in to explain that the historical society had decided to take on the project of restoring the old plantation. Some years earlier, the last owner had given the property to the town as a gift, but nothing had been done. Until now.
