The women were chatting about their booth’s success during the Lights on the Lake Festival and things they wanted to do differently the next year. They were obviously good friends. Elizabeth was content to listen to the gossip, unobtrusively trying to put names with faces for some that she only recognized vaguely.
“Do you have family around here? You seem really familiar to me.”
It took Elizabeth a few moments to realize McKenzie’s question was directed at her. Again, she had no idea how to answer. She had a family here. A husband, children. Of course, she couldn’t say so without going into the entire complicated story.
“Not anymore. What did you say the...wreaths were for again?” she asked, to head off any more questions.
As she had hoped, her diversion worked.
“We belong to a group called the Haven Point Helping Hands. Wherever we see a need in our community, we try to step up and fill it. Sometimes it’s the library. Sometimes it’s the food bank. Sometimes it’s a struggling family in town. This year, we’re trying to build an adaptive playground for children with disabilities. We’ve raised most of the money and hope to break ground in the spring.”
“We love to help,” Eliza Caine said. “But most of the time, we’re really only looking for any excuse to get together.”
Elizabeth settled back into the work, grateful for the chance to sit and listen to the murmur of women’s voices. There was something soothing about it. Restful, even.
She had missed her friends. Even before she left, she had shut out those close friendships she had here. Perhaps if she had reached out during her darkest days or hadn’t been so very worried about people thinking less of her because of her inability to cope with the stress of her life, she might have handled things better.
“Don’t you think, Sonia?”
It took her a moment to shift gears in her brain. Changes of topic were always difficult for her to keep up with since the accident. “I’m sorry. I was thinking of something else. Could you repeat the question?”
Devin, McKenzie’s older sister, gave her a reassuring smile. “We can be a bit overwhelming as a group, I’m afraid,” she said.
“It’s not that. I’m sorry. I think what you’re doing here is...wonderful.”
“Maybe you can start a similar group where you come from,” McKenzie suggested.
“Where is that?” Eliza asked.
“I’m from...all over, but for the last few years I’ve been living on the...Oregon Coast.”
“I love that area,” Hazel offered. “It’s gorgeous. Plus, you sometimes can run into really sexy surfers, am I right?”
Elizabeth blinked. The woman had to be at least eighty by now. “I...suppose.”
Others were sharing their favorite areas on the Oregon Coast when a newcomer entered the workroom, pulling off a scarf and hat as she came in.
Elizabeth’s stomach dropped and she suddenly wanted to disappear.
“Megan. There you are. I was afraid you weren’t going to be able to make it,” McKenzie exclaimed.
“Sorry I’m late. We were doing all the checkouts for the conference that’s been at the hotel and there were some problems with the billing. I’m here now, though. What did I miss?”
Megan gave a general smile to the group. Then Elizabeth felt her gaze stop on her. The other woman frowned.
Megan couldn’t possibly recognize her, could she? The reconstructive plastic surgery had done a thorough job of erasing most traces of the woman she had been.
Somehow she sensed that Megan saw past it anyway and knew exactly who she was.
“Megan. This is Sonia,” McKenzie said. “I’m afraid I forgot your last name. In the spirit of the season, she kindly offered to help us with the wreaths. She works at a garden center in Oregon and is obviously an expert. She can make three wreaths to every one that the rest of us finish. Isn’t it nice of her to help us?”
“Lovely.” Megan’s tone conveyed exactly the opposite of her words.
“If you want to eat first, there’s some soup in the slow cookers on the counter.”
“I’m suddenly not very hungry,” Megan said.
“What do you hear from our stubborn older brother?” Wyn asked her.
It was obvious from the sudden tension rippling through the room that everyone was worried about the FBI agent.
“Nothing. But I’m sure he’s fine. He’ll get in touch when he can.”
Next to her, Katrina squeezed her arm. “He’s tough. Don’t worry. He’ll be home driving us all crazy before you know it.”
The conversation moved to Katrina’s children—children Elizabeth had no idea she even had. She put her head down working hard to finish her wreath. When she was done, she pushed her chair away from the table, driven by a fierce urge to escape before Megan announced her real identity to everyone.
She had to come clean to these women, the real movers and shakers of Haven Point, but she wasn’t ready to do that yet.
“Thank you for...letting me help you, but I’m afraid I have to...go,” she answered.
“Oh, too bad,” McKenzie said, still looking closely at her as if trying to figure out why she seemed familiar. “You were so much help. Thank you!”
“Good...good luck with your fund-raiser.”
She grabbed her coat and the despised cane, offered a stiff smile to the room in general, then hurried back to the main area of the store. She was almost to the door when she realized someone had followed her.
Megan.
Dread washed over her and she turned, gripping her cane tightly.
She found Megan glaring at her, features tight with anger and her eyes blazing. “I know who you are. You’re Elizabeth.”
“Yes.” What else could she say?
“I can’t believe you have the nerve to walk into town as if nothing has happened, as if you’re just some kindly stranger passing by and offering to help out.”
She had not offered. She had been enlisted by McKenzie. And if she’d had the slightest idea that Megan would be there, she never would have walked back into that workroom.
“Why did you tell them your name is Sonia? The least you can do is start telling everyone the truth so you can get Luke off the hook.”
“Don’t...you think Luke deserves that truth before...everyone else?”
“I think Luke deserved the truth seven years ago. You have no idea what he and your children have been through since you walked away, do you?” Megan demanded, each word sharp and vicious.
Elizabeth gripped her cane, fully aware her sister-in-law didn’t want her to answer.
“Everywhere they go, whispers follow. For seven years, he has lived under a cloud of suspicion. It’s been horrible. A nightmare. All because one selfish woman walked away without a backward look.”
Oh, that was so very untrue. She had done nothing but look back over those years.
“I’m...sorry,” she said, the words wholly inadequate.
“If you were sorry, you would have come back a long time ago,” Megan snapped. “If you were truly sorry, you wouldn’t have left in the first place.”
She had no way to defend herself against the truth. “I know.”
“They’re better off without you now. All three of them. The kids barely remember you and Luke needs to move on. My brother has had enough sorrow and grief in his life. He deserves to find a good, honorable woman who is willing to truly be a partner to him. Something you’ve never been, even before you left.”
The fury coming out of Megan hurt more than she’d expected. She and her sister-in-law had once been dear friends. She had considered Megan the sister she never had. Now it was clear the woman despised her as much as Luke did.
“I don’t know what your game is, coming back in and out of town. When Luke told me that, I was so angry. Now I recognize you. I’ve se
en you at the kids’ games and plays and things. You can’t keep doing that. I need to say this now, while I have the chance. As I see it, you only have one option. Clear Luke’s name, sign the divorce papers and walk away. That’s what you have to do. Nothing else.”
Elizabeth released a breath, realizing her legs were trembling. She would have fallen if not for the cane.
“Finish up here with the legal system and then leave for good. That’s the best thing you can do now for your children and for Luke.”
Without another word, Megan turned around and returned to the workroom, leaving Elizabeth shattered, shaky, sick.
She felt as if she had just been shivved.
She knew Megan had been acting out of protectiveness for the children and Luke. She was grateful the woman cared so much for their well-being, but her stark words still burned.
Megan was absolutely correct. Elizabeth’s only role in town was to clear Luke’s name and free him once and for all so he could finally go on with his life.
She was fooling herself if she thought she had the right to anything else.
Chapter Eight
“Hurry up, kids. You’ve got ten minutes.”
“Why do we have to go so early? School doesn’t start for an hour,” Bridger complained.
Of late, Luke’s son had picked up a bit of a bad attitude in the mornings. He liked to dawdle through his breakfast, stop to tease his sister, take forever finding his shoes and socks. Luke had finally resorted to having Bridger set out everything he would need the night before so their mornings weren’t so hectic. He had even printed a checklist for Bridger to go through, which usually did a pretty good job of helping the boy stay on task.
“I told you last night, remember? I have an appointment this morning. I’m taking you to the inn and Aunt Megan will take you to school.”
“You never told us what kind of appointment you have,” Cassie said with a suspicious look. She had been giving him a lot of those looks lately. He had a feeling his daughter suspected something was up, starting with his trip to Oregon.
“Business. That’s all. Come on. Grab your backpack.”
“Do you remember that we have rehearsals for the Christmas show every day after school the rest of the week except today? We won’t be able to take the bus those days. You’ll have to pick us up at school at five.”
Shoot. He’d forgotten to tell his housekeeper, who filled in with childcare after school. “I’ll let Jan know. Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out.”
Childcare was by far the toughest hurdle he had to overcome as a single father with a demanding job as a contractor. Sometimes he could be flexible with his schedule, taking the kids along with him to job sites or planning his work around their after-school activities.
Sometimes, like now, he had a million irons in the fire. Jan Mulvaney was wonderful to help him out with errands and light housekeeping and running the kids to practices and things. She had a busy life with a dozen grandkids of her own and sometimes he had to turn to Megan for help. Once Megan and Elliot married, his sister wouldn’t be as available. Eventually they would want to start their own family, which would leave her even less time to help him out.
He selfishly hoped that didn’t happen for a year or two, until Cassie was old enough to take on more responsibilities for herself and her brother if Luke had job commitments.
Whatever happened, he would figure it out. He always did.
Yeah, it would be better for everyone if Luke didn’t have to juggle everything on his own, but that wasn’t the way his life had turned out. He had long ago given up the temptation to dwell on self-pity.
“You’ll take the bus today, though, right?”
She nodded. “We don’t start practicing until tomorrow.”
“I can pick you up after rehearsals the rest of the week. I’ll plan on five, but if that changes, call me.” He hated that his ten-year-old daughter had a phone, but that was the reality of their world.
He checked his watch. He was picking up Elizabeth in less than half an hour. “I really do need to go. Are you guys about done?”
Bridger pushed away from the table and checked his list. “I have to brush my teeth and put on my shoes. That’s all.”
“Can you help me with my hair?” Cassie asked.
Oh, the dreaded question. Above all the single-dad issues he faced, hair was his Rubicon. He would rather have a long talk with her about menstruation than have to wield a curling iron.
“I can do braids. You know that’s about it.”
“I don’t want braids today. I was hoping for maybe a messy bun.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to ask your aunt if you want anything but a ponytail or a braid. You know hair isn’t my specialty.”
“You won’t even try,” she groused, hitting a nerve since he knew she was right. “My hair always looks so dumb. I look like I’m five.”
“I think you always look very nice.”
“You’re supposed to say that. You’re my dad. Which is the whole problem.”
“That I’m your dad?”
“Yes.” She stomped away to pick up her backpack with the rapid-fire mood shifts that had become more common lately. “You never even try to do anything but braids or ponytails. I bet Mom would have been able to help me with my hair.”
Bridger sent her a shocked look, probably because Cassie rarely referred to their mother.
“Maybe,” Luke replied evenly. “But she’s not here, is she? I am and I’m doing the best I can, kid.”
Cassie had the grace to look a little ashamed. “I know.” She fidgeted with her backpack strap. “I just get so tired of boring ponytails.”
He sighed. Why was this parenting gig so hard? It seemed like there was always some area where he was failing. Homework patrol, proper nutrition planning, extracurricular activities. Now hair. He couldn’t do everything.
“Maybe we could try getting up a half hour earlier and experiment a little,” he offered.
Her chin wobbled a little and he was horribly afraid she was going to cry. What had he said now? The last six months or so as she approached ten, he felt like he had to watch every word or he might set her off.
“Thanks. I’m sorry. You’re the best dad in the whole world.”
She threw her arms around his waist and he gave her a hug in return. Her words were ridiculously far from the truth, but he’d take them this morning as he prepared to meet with Elizabeth and an attorney who wanted to put him in prison.
“And you’re the best daughter.”
“What about me?” Bridger asked, making Cassie roll her eyes.
“You’re the biggest pest,” she said, but she hugged her brother, too.
Somehow, they made it out the door without more drama, other than Bridger suddenly reminding Luke as they loaded up into his pickup that he was supposed to take two dozen cookies to school the next day.
Since the school had a strictly store-bought treat policy, Luke figured he could swing into the bakery on his way home and pick up a couple dozen sugar cookies.
* * *
Until she and Elliot married and moved into a house he was buying along the lakeshore, Megan was living in a small cottage on the property of the inn she had inherited from her grandmother, his stepmother’s mother. Though she was no longer actively involved in the day-to-day running of the property, only in an advisory capacity, she still liked to stay close and help out where needed.
When they arrived at her place, Megan was standing outside on her porch, photographing the early morning light coming up over the mountains above the lake.
“Gorgeous day, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Sure,” Luke said. He was too nervous about the upcoming meeting to pay much attention, though now that she pointed it out, he noted the amber and violet streaks coming up over the mountain.
&nbs
p; “Good morning, darling children,” Megan said. Though she smiled, Luke noted circles under her eyes. He had a feeling she wasn’t sleeping well, too worried about Elliot and his assignment.
“Can we go grab some breakfast?” Bridger asked after stowing his backpack in her small living room.
“You just had cereal,” Luke reminded him.
“But they have scrambled eggs at the inn breakfast. You’re always saying I need more protein in the mornings so I can focus better,” Bridger said.
He really hated when his own words came back to haunt him.
Megan grinned. “It’s fine with me. We’re only at half capacity today. There should be plenty of food.”
“But I wanted you to help me with my hair, like I texted you,” Cassie said.
“How about this? We work on your hair for fifteen minutes or so then head up to the inn to grab eggs before I take you to school. Does that work, Bridger?”
“Works for me,” he said cheerfully, plopping onto her easy chair and pulling out his book.
Whew. Problem solved. “All right,” Luke said. “I’ve got to go. Have a great day at school, both of you. Thanks, sis.”
“Bye, Dad,” his kids said in unison. Cassie gave him an extra-long hug, as if to apologize for her outburst earlier, but Bridger only waved him off, already engrossed in the book.
“Today’s the day,” Megan said after she walked out onto the porch with him into the cold morning. “You get to clear your name and sign the divorce papers in one fell swoop.”
“Yes.” He should be in the mood to celebrate, shouldn’t he? So why did he have this ache in his gut, this sense that he was heading toward deep waters he didn’t know if he had the skills to navigate?
He should never have kissed Elizabeth the day before. The memory of that embrace had haunted him all night long, reminding him of how very much he had missed holding her, kissing her, making love to her.
He had been alone too damn long. As he’d told her, he didn’t feel like he could date anyone else when there was that small chance that she wasn’t dead. What did he have to offer another woman? A couple of kids and a broken heart.
Coming Home for Christmas Page 10
