Christmas at the Cove

by Rachel Brimble

  Now her mind and heart reeled with an overwhelming sense of loss. However, as much as she hated the inexplicable but very real sadness that Scott wouldn’t be a part of his daughter’s life, she also recognized that she hadn’t gotten to her position at work or raised her daughter or succeeded in other areas of her life with Scott by her side. It was time to go home.

  She closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the bench. So why did her heart feel so damn heavy? Why did her eyes burn with unshed tears?

  Because despite his failings, Scott evoked strong feelings of destiny in her.

  Her body traitorously yearned for him even if she’d purposely put her heart under lock and key. The bursts of lust that heated her blood were exciting, no matter how adulterous they felt to Gerard’s memory.

  Wasn’t that another reason for her blank refusal to stay here a few days longer? Because she didn’t really have the strength to resist her physical want of him for another few days while they talked and spent time together? If he made another move to kiss her...

  “Goddamn it. Why is this so hard?”

  Carrie inhaled a long breath and when she exhaled, the air turned white in front of her mouth. She shivered. She’d chosen Christmas as the right time to come to Templeton so she could start the New Year afresh. She was a fool. Whether it was Christmas, Easter, the height of summer or the beginning of fall, new beginnings began regardless of the season.

  Christmas just made failure cut that much deeper.

  “Are you all right?”

  Carrie snapped her eyes open. The woman standing to the side of her was wrapped in a chestnut wool coat the exact shade of her thick, long and very enviable hair. Carrie forced a smile and sat up straight. “I’m fine. I’m just—”

  “Freezing yourself to the bench? It’s beginning to snow.” The woman held out her hand and soft white flakes drifted to her leather-gloved palm. “I love winter.” She glanced toward the park gates and grimaced. “Not that I should, considering I run a holiday park.”

  “It’s yours?”

  The woman laughed, the sound warm. “Not mine, exactly. I’m Angela Taylor, the manager. I came outside for a breather. The Christmas visitors are equally as boisterous as a group of twenty-somethings on spring break.”

  Carrie smiled. “Would it make you want to slap me if I said I was finding their boisterous good time entirely comforting?”

  Her eyes turned somber before they softened and she smiled again. “Are you okay? Do you want to come in for a while? We’ve got a mean coffee machine in the reception.”

  The gentle concern in her eyes made Carrie slump her shoulders. “I’m hiding.”

  “I thought as much.” Angela’s smile dissolved. “Is there anything I can do?”

  Carrie’s cheeks warmed. “Is it really that obvious?”

  “Only to someone who recognizes the anxiety on your face...the hunch of your shoulders.” She looked around. “Are you out here alone?”

  “Yes, but that’s exactly how I want it for a while.”

  “I see.” Her gaze zeroed in on Carrie’s and intensified as she lowered onto the bench. “Feel free to tell me to mind my own business but if you need some help—”

  “I’m fine.”

  Angela lifted her eyebrow. “And someone who’s fine chooses to sit alone outside a holiday park a few days before Christmas until they’re trembling with cold?”

  Carrie laughed. “Maybe.”

  She tilted her head toward the park. “Come inside. We can have hot chocolate. I promise not to ask any questions.”

  Despite Angela’s kindness, Carrie’s need to maintain distance between her and the residents of Templeton rose once more. She forced her necessary boundaries into their somewhat wobbly position. “If it’s all the same to you—”

  “I’m not nosing into your business, I’m just offering a friendly shoulder...or not. The hot chocolate is still up for grabs either way.”

  Carrie studied Angela from beneath lowered lashes. Her worldly-wise gaze screamed of experience. Instinctively, Carrie sensed Angela knew she struggled with the choice of whether to fight or flee. She drew in a long breath and exhaled. “Can I ask you something?”

  Angela nodded. “Sure.”

  “Have you ever been faced with a situation where you have absolutely no idea of the right thing to do?”

  Angela’s breath puffed out in front of her as she blew out a sigh. “Now there’s a question.” She glanced toward the gates of the holiday park, her expression growing guarded. She sighed. “We all have moments like that. You have to listen to that little voice deep inside. For better or worse, it’s rarely wrong.”

  Carrie nodded, her gaze resting on the holidaymakers whooping and laughing within the gates of the park. “Someone has asked me to do something that I feel as though I owe him to do, but...”

  “Is this a friend? Boyfriend?”

  Carrie met her eyes and grimaced. “Neither. More of a long-ago lover and father of my child.”

  Angela sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. “Ah.”

  “It’s such a mess and I came here thinking I had everything worked out. I couldn’t have been more wrong and now I’m worried about making things worse.”

  “Do you like him?”

  Carrie smiled wryly. “Yes. I probably like him too much.”

  “Can you trust him?”

  Carrie frowned and turned to face her. “I don’t even know him. Not really.”

  “Hmm...and what is your gut telling you?”

  Carrie considered the question. How could Scott not be trustworthy after his clear commitment to his family? He might have gone from one woman to the other, but that was all she had to criticize. He’d been honest and caring of her. He’d listened and given her his truth. “I can trust him.”

  “Then unless the guy is asking you to do something immoral or illegal, I think you should consider doing whatever he’s asking.” Angela smiled. “Look, a lot of things have happened to me and the most important thing I’ve learned is sometimes we have to take a leap of faith and not cut people off because we’re worried what may or may not happen.”

  If there’s anyone I will reach those standards for, it’s you. Scott’s words resounded in Carrie’s head.

  “I have to get this right for my daughter. If it was just about me...”

  “You’d do whatever he’s asking in a heartbeat?” Angela raised an eyebrow, her eyes teasing.

  Carrie laughed as the truth of Angela’s insinuation hit home. “Maybe. It’s complicated. My feelings for him seem to be based on little more than the overwhelming desire to jump the man.”

  Angela laughed. “Is that so bad?”

  Carrie sighed. “It is when I’ve only just told him he has a daughter despite her being three this coming April.”

  Angela winced. “Oh.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Come on. It’s freezing out here.” Angela stood and held out her hand. “This calls for more hot chocolate than our machine can hold, but I’ve got access to a bar full of wine if need be. Let’s go inside and, between us, we’ll figure out what your next move should be.”

  Carrie stood and smiled. “Okay. Why not? I was thinking of leaving tonight and never coming back. Never speaking to him again, but now...”

  “Now what?”

  “Now I’m wondering whether to give him a chance. He really hasn’t done anything wrong. Neither of us has.”

  Angela grinned. “Good. Come on. Have a drink with me and then go get your man.”

  Carrie’s stomach knotted as Angela led her into the park and through the bustling area in front of the reception building. Go get my man? Scott Walker is so not my man right now.

  People were out in droves delighting in the first snowfall of
winter. A lump caught in Carrie’s throat as she absorbed the awed expressions of mothers with their children and grandparents arm in arm. Her heart kicked painfully. God, she wanted that. She wanted a family. She had to try again with Scott. As much for herself as for Belle. Gerard wanted them to be happy and happiness came through trust, commitment and tenacity.

  What would it say about her and everything Gerard had taught her if she walked away through fear of the future? Life was too short to waste it.

  The shriek of a little girl drew Carrie to an abrupt halt, her heart stuttering. A young father ahead of them tossed his toddler daughter onto his shoulders and she giggled with delight. She stuck out her tongue to catch the snowflakes while her father marched up and down in the mode of a soldier on duty outside Buckingham Palace.

  “That. Right there. That’s what matters.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Angela cleared her throat. “Nothing is more important than a girl—or woman—feeling secure. Nothing in the world.”

  The hairs at Carrie’s nape rose. Scott hadn’t said no to Belle. He hadn’t said no to trying. He’d asked her to stay; to spend some time. He hadn’t demanded a DNA test, but he did deserve one. If there was the smallest chance of Scott being in Belle’s life, it was Carrie’s duty as her mother to ensure it happened.

  Unless Scott gave her just cause to think he might harm Belle emotionally, physically or mentally, she wouldn’t walk away.

  She faced Angela. “Do you mind if we get that drink another time?”

  She smiled. “Somewhere you need to be?”

  “I need to talk to him. I walked away too easily.”

  Angela nodded. “Then go.”

  Carrie squeezed her arm. “Thanks for listening. Maybe we can catch up again before I leave?”

  “Sure. I’d like that.” Angela winked. “I want to know how things turn out. Good luck.”

  * * *

  SCOTT STARED THROUGH the bakery window, his ass cheeks numb from the length of time he’d been sitting immobile. Why had he told Carrie he’d try to change for her? What did he expect to happen? A woman as determined and passionate as Carrie had no facet in her person that showed she’d wait for him to make up his mind whether it was possible for him to be a father. Why should he expect her to?

  He dropped his head back against the seat and groaned. Why the hell had he just blurted it out when he asked her to stay? Carrie didn’t know him. He could be a head case for all she knew. He should’ve approached the whole thing differently. Maybe taken her somewhere fun for the afternoon? Showed her he was capable of laughter and good times as much as he was brooding and walking away from past lovers?

  If Carrie had avoided coming to Templeton because she feared what would happen when they came face to face again, he had more than likely sent her to packing her suitcase. What woman would say yes to staying in a strange town so close to Christmas knowing only a man with a reputation like his? An undeserved reputation he couldn’t have cared less about—until Carrie.

  He clenched his jaw. Whatever mistake he might have made asking her to stay, he wasn’t wrong in saying they needed to get to know each other a little better before Belle was brought into the equation.

  During the years he’d thought about Carrie, he’d wondered countless times if their time together had become a fantasy in his head—and the reality was if Carrie reappeared they’d both get seriously burned. He’d been worried about his heart and this whole time Carrie had been worried about their child.

  “God damn it.” Scott squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t commit to moving toward a relationship with the daughter he was yet to meet when he was nowhere near ready. He had plans to see through before his life was ready for a little girl who deserved a good and present dad.

  He needed to make sure his mother had somewhere nice of her own to live. He needed to get the second garage up and running and turning a profit. He needed to refurbish his three-bedroom bachelor pad and fill it with at least something appealing to a woman. He opened his eyes as self-loathing furled inside him.

  He couldn’t take the risk of committing only to buckle under the pressure and walk away further down the line. He couldn’t risk being shown as the same man as his father...

  He stared across the bakery at Marian.

  She’d come to Templeton knowing no one but George, the man she loved, but was now an important part of the whole community. She blended into her new role of wife and became a mother to nearly everyone in town. Despite having no children, she held a maternal instinct nobody could dispute. Who was to say he didn’t hold the same untapped capabilities to be a good father to Belle?

  He snatched his gaze to the window. Who was he kidding? What had he ever done to show he could care for a child? Care for a woman for an infinite amount of time?

  His history with women held the tangible proof he turned his back the moment things got tough as far as relationships were concerned. His business was thriving. He was a hard worker...but couldn’t deal with emotional strains and fallouts outside of his mother and sisters. Four upset females was enough for any man to take...or at least it had been for his father.

  What did Scott being a hard worker count for if eventually he upped and left, giving little more than a child-support check to Carrie until Belle hit the grand old, government-decided age of eighteen? He and his sisters passed that age a long time ago, but each of them still thought and talked about their absent father as though they would’ve liked the guy to stick around. Kids grew into adults, yet their childhoods shaped everything...

  The snow falling outside the window came down heavier. People rushed by the bakery, pulling up their collars and bracing their bodies against the gathering storm. He should move. Get out of there. Go to the garage and pound on some metal for a while. Anger and resentment against his father built inside him like planks on a burning pyre. Memories of his mother crying and wailing, screaming and blaming. Over and over, he told himself he wasn’t his father, yet here he was, part of him undeniably terrified Belle was his.

  “Well, then, Mr. Walker, where have you been hiding yourself these past weeks, huh?” Marian’s booming voice to the side of him cut through Scott’s reverie.

  He battled his scowl into submission and forced a smile. “Busy avoiding the Christmas madness as I do every year.”

  Marian rolled her eyes. “I should bang your and George’s heads together. Now you’ve finished that car of his, I wake every morning expecting to see tire marks on the driveway where he’s skipped out of town as quick as lightning. I know he’s got a bee in his bonnet about Christmas because of that ex-wife of his, but still, Christmas is Christmas.”

  She slid into the opposite seat and Scott struggled not to fidget under her scrutiny. “So...” She leaned her forearms on the table and linked her fingers. “What’s the deal between you and the latest pretty young thing to stroll into the Cove and cause a ruckus?”

  Scott struggled to keep his smile in place as his hackles quivered under the scent of unwanted questions. “Nothing.”

  Marian’s bark of laughter bounced from the windowpane and hit him straight between the eyes. He closed them. “What?”

  “You and her had a thing, didn’t you? There’s no chance of you letting a girl who looks like that breeze in and out of town without trying your luck for a little up-and-personal time.”

  Scott snapped his eyes open. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Marian grinned. “You know exactly what it means.”

  Heat pinched his face as irritation swept through him. “Doesn’t it count for anything that the girls I’ve dated still talk to me?” He scowled. “So I slept with a few of them, that doesn’t make me some kind of jackass when they were willing participants. I’m getting sick to death of—”

  “Whoa, she’s certainly more than nothing to you, isn’t
she?” Marian laughed. “Never seen you so riled up by a bit of teasing. You like her, huh? You like her a lot.”

  Scott opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. Giving Marian any more to go on than what she’d already concluded was lethal. The woman could run with a theory regardless of the facts...and, more often than not, landed scarily close to the truth.

  She stared through the window. “Did she tell you Nick took twelve chunks out of her in here the other day?” She shook her head. “How I didn’t throttle the boy, I’ll never know.”

  “He told me. I kind of did some throttling of my own so don’t worry about it.”

  She frowned. “You boys didn’t fight, did you? No woman is worth friends like you two falling out over.”

  Scott sighed. He wasn’t happy how things still were between him and Nick. He should go see him sooner rather than later. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “Make sure you do. Come on then, out with it. What does she want?”

  “Like I said—”

  “Nothing, right?”

  He lifted his eyebrows and a couple of seconds passed before Marian raised her hands in defeat. “Fine. Your business is your own, but that girl has the look of a mother about her. I’m no Einstein, but I know people. It doesn’t take a mathematician to add things up.”

  Scott held her gaze. “She’s a friend. That’s all you need to know.”

  “It’s all I need to know, but it’s not all I want to know.” She took his hand and held it. “Talk to me, honey.”

  Words bit and burned his tongue. “I can’t.”

  Marian smiled, her gaze soft with compassion. “Sure you can. I won’t judge, you know that. I want to help you. How about you and George have a poker night at our place tonight? I’ll get you boys some beers and those disgusting fat cigars you like to pretend you know how to smoke.”

  Scott smiled. “We don’t smoke them, we just hold them because it makes us look good.”

  Marian’s smile dissolved. “You look good. My George looks like a bad impersonation of George Burns in his heyday.”

  Scott laughed and drew his hand from her grasp. He shut his eyes. “God, what a mess.”