From Daredevil to Devoted Daddy

by Barbara McMahon

  She crossed over to Matt, leaning over to kiss him gently on his forehead. She wished she had the right to do that all the time.

  Jeanne-Marie walked through the lounge to the veranda. Hearing the sound of the sea soothed her. She sat on one of the chairs and gazed out where the water was, hoping the peace would penetrate her jumbled thoughts. Too dark to see much, she let the soft breeze caress her as she relaxed and thought about Matt. She was falling more and more in love with him despite her best efforts to resist. She didn’t have only herself to consider, but her son. Alexandre didn’t miss Phillipe because he’d hardly known him. But he could get attached to Matt, and when he left, it would cause great sadness. She wanted to protect her son as much as she was able.

  Yet since the accident, each time she looked at Matt, she saw possibilities. And complications. More complications than she could deal with tonight. Time for bed.

  She entered Alexandre’s bedroom. Both were sleeping. She went to Matt and shook him gently. “Matt?” she said softly.

  He groaned and opened one eye. “What?”

  “Just checking on you. Do you know what day it is?”

  “The day I wanted to sleep through. I’m fine, Jeanne-Marie. Go away.”

  She nodded and left.

  Once in the night she checked on him again, and found him just as grumpy.

  The next morning Alexandre didn’t come for breakfast at his regular time. Jeanne-Marie saw to her guests, then went to his room. She could hear the two of them talking before she reached the door.

  “Anyone ready for breakfast?” she asked, knocking on the door before opening it.

  Matt had put a couple of pillows behind him and was halfway sitting up. His cast rested on the covers. Alexandre perched on the narrow space between Matt and the edge of the twin mattress. They both looked at her when she entered.

  “I’m ready, if Matt is,” Alexandre said, hopping off the bed.

  “I’m more than ready,” Matt said. “I could eat half a dozen eggs. The sleep really helped. And being away from the hospital.”

  Once breakfast was over, Jeanne-Marie suggested Matt might like to sit on the veranda. It was a pleasant day and she took a couple of moments to sit beside him. Alexandre had his cars and quickly began playing near the sand.

  It was an idyllic setting, one that could lead to foolish hopes of them making a family together. Only, they were her foolish hopes. Matt hadn’t even tried to kiss her since he’d returned. He’d get well and leave.

  And she’d be left alone again.

  CHAPTER NINE

  MATT HAD MOVED to one of the lounge chairs on the veranda. Sheltered from the hot sun, he could enjoy the warmth without becoming uncomfortable. It felt good to be outside. The sea washed against the shore. Alexandre talked to himself as he played with his cars. Matt turned his head slightly to look at Jeanne-Marie, then couldn’t look away. The feeling of contentment slowly faded as awareness rose. Time seemed to stand still. Despite his battered body, he wanted her. He wanted kisses and caresses and to make love all night long. Being around her made his senses soar as they never had before.

  Just thinking about brushing his fingertips over her soft cheek had sent spirals of desire coursing through. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her as if he’d never let her go.

  Finally looking away, he tried to block the temptation with thoughts of work. He’d have to check in soon. He’d planned to be back by now. The fall had been a wake-up call. He could have died. That would have been tragic. When had he changed his mind from being willing to take his chances with fate to a strong desire to live a long life?

  He still missed his wife and son, but Jeanne-Marie had brought him new reasons to embrace life.

  Yet one day he would grow old and die. What would happen to Sommer’s Winery then? It was a legacy to the future. The Sommer family future. He had his cousins. They would take over if he was out of the picture.

  But he’d like a son of his own to pass the land to. He missed Etienne. He’d thought never to have another child, but he was young enough. If he found someone to build a life with. If he dared risk his own heart.

  Very quickly a new routine was established. Jeanne-Marie prepared breakfast for her guests each morning. Then she sat with Matt and Alexandre as they ate at the table in the kitchen. After cleaning the kitchen, she’d join them on the veranda where Matt spent most of the day, resting, talking, watching the sea and laughing at the nonsense Alexandre often said.

  When he wasn’t resting or talking with them, however, Matt was on his phone to his office. The first day he’d been there, Jeanne-Marie had overheard him talking with an aunt, reassuring her he was going to be fine, minimizing the extent of his injuries and promising to let her know when he’d be returning home.

  “I need to be able to sit long enough for the drive,” he’d said.

  And be able to see, Jeanne-Marie thought. But he had not told his aunt that part of his injuries.

  Jeanne-Marie came to cherish those hours on the veranda. Often Matt had his eyes closed, but each day he felt stronger, the headaches began to diminish and by the end of the week the double vision was a thing of the past. They talked about everything under the sun. She learned about his cousins, friends, goals for the winery. And he questioned her about her parents, siblings, friends. When he mentioned a favorite food, she made a mental note to fix it for him. When he mentioned he liked blue, she made an effort to wear blue clothes.

  Alexandre relished having so much attention. He would come and lean against Matt to discuss some important aspect of his day, or clamor to know when they’d go climbing again.

  “I never fall,” he told Matt.

  “I rarely fall,” Matt returned. “It was foolish of me to go in the rain. Remember that.”

  “It’s not raining today. Can we go today?” Alexandre asked one afternoon.

  Matt raised his cast. “I can’t climb until I get this off.”

  “And build up your strength again,” Jeanne-Marie murmured. “Alexandre, you can go climbing another time. Don’t pester Matt.”

  “I know how,” he said solemnly.

  “Well, you sure have more experience than you had before. But I’m not sure you know how,” his mother said.

  “I do. I did good, didn’t I, Matt? I didn’t even fall.”

  “You did fine.”

  Jeanne-Marie did her best each day to deflect the subject of climbing, though with Matt as a constant reminder, Alexandre brought it up constantly.

  By the end of the week she was getting tired of his constant pressure to go climbing. It had been a mistake to let him try. Now after one successful—easy—climb, he thought he could tag along with Matt.

  “Let’s go swimming,” she suggested.

  “Can Matt go?” he asked.

  “Not while he has the cast,” she said.

  “Then I want to stay here,” Alexandre said.

  “How about I go walking along the shore, and you can splash in the water and cool off?” Matt suggested.

  Twice during the week, Jeanne-Marie had to let them go off without her as she’d had guests to attend to. She’d watched them walk side by side, knowing by his position that Matt was leaning over a bit to hear Alexandre. He was so good for her son.

  Despite his own loss, he seemed to enjoy being with the boy.

  But it was the nights that Jeanne-Marie loved. After Alexandre was in bed and Rene had left, she and Matt would sit on the veranda and talk, kiss, be foolish together. Twice they’d walked along the shore in the moonlight. His knee was no longer giving him problems, and he’d never injured his mouth.

  She felt closer than ever and so in love she could hardly see straight. He’d never said anything, but surely he had to feel something. His kisses were all a woman could want. His caresses inflamed her. His words of passion set her imagination on fire.

  If he had been feeling one hundred percent, would he have pushed their involvement further? She wanted more than he
gave. Yet maybe he didn’t feel the same way and kisses and caresses were enough.

  He never spoke of the future.

  And she never stopped thinking about it.

  On Wednesday Jeanne-Marie received a phone call from her in-laws asking if they could come and spend the next day with Alexandre. She was happy to invite them, but after she hung up she began to worry about what they’d think when they saw Matt. She had not told them about his injuries, or that he was convalescing here.

  What would they think when they found out? Keeping it a secret now seemed awkward. It wasn’t that she didn’t want them to know, precisely. Well, maybe. But only to avoid any disappointment. They loved their son. She had loved him as well. But life truly did move on. She hadn’t thought she would fall in love again. Or have to keep it a secret.

  Phillipe had made no secret of his love for her from the first moment they met. Matt was so different.

  She didn’t like complications. But she was not yet confident enough to declare her love when he had not hinted himself.

  Yet, could any man kiss like he did and not feel something?

  On Thursday morning Adrienne and Antoine arrived at ten.

  Matt was sitting on the veranda when they arrived.

  They seemed surprised to see him there, but greeted him cordially. Then turned questioning looks in Jeanne-Marie’s direction.

  Jeanne-Marie had told him and Alexandre at dinner last night that they would be coming. And she’d admitted they didn’t know Matt was convalescing at the inn.

  He knew they would be even less happy to see him if they knew the thoughts he was beginning to have about their son’s widow.

  “We thought we’d walk around the town for a while, then have lunch and spend the afternoon together at the beach. I know he likes to build sand castles. We’ll be back before dinner,” Adrienne said.

  “Do stay for dinner,” Jeanne-Marie said.

  “Or I’d be happy to take everyone out for dinner,” Matt said.

  Jeanne-Marie looked at him, then nodded. “That would work, too.”

  The older couple looked at each other. “I suppose,” Adrienne said slowly, searching Jeanne-Marie’s expression as if trying to see if there was anything to learn.

  Jeanne-Marie gave her son a quick hug. “Mind your grandparents,” she said. She smiled at Adrienne. “I know he’ll be good.”

  “Of course, he’s Phillipe’s son.” With that they were off.

  Jeanne-Marie sighed. “He’s half mine,” she said to their retreating backs.

  “I think the comment was made for me,” Matt said.

  She shrugged. She’d tried so hard to act normal around Matt. Had Adrienne picked up on her feelings? She turned and looked at him, her heart skipping a beat. She could look at him all day. And now that he was healing, his amazing good looks were resurfacing. She no longer felt a pang of sorrow at his battered face. He was bouncing back and would be as good as new before long.

  The longer Matt stayed, however, the more she dreaded his departure. Could she let him go without telling him how she felt?

  And if he ever came to love her, how would she tell Adrienne and Antoine?

  “Jeanne-Marie?” he said, coming to stand beside her.

  She smiled at him. “We have the day to ourselves,” she said. “What would you like to do?”

  His expression was serious. He brushed back some of her hair from her face, letting his fingers linger. “I’m going home tomorrow. I’ve been away too long. I only meant to be gone a week.”

  Her heart dropped. Clinging to the vestige of her smile, she tried to absorb the news and not wail in denial. “Of course. You do have a vineyard to run.” She turned, but he caught her arm, holding her. She kept that insipid smile on her face and looked at him.

  “So what would you like to do on your last day?” she asked.

  “Walk around the town, maybe have lunch on the patio at Le Chat Noir, dinner at Three Sisters? It’ll take me all day to drive, so I need to start early in the morning.”

  “Early breakfasts are my specialty.” Tomorrow morning! Less than twenty-fours hours left. She couldn’t bear it.

  She had to wring every memory she could from the time left. And pray she wouldn’t completely fall apart when he left.

  “Too bad we can’t go swimming. I liked that,” he said, his fingers gentle against her arm. She wanted to lean into him and hold him and never let go.

  “Me, too. Let me freshen up and we can take that walk.”

  She went to her room, closed the door and moaned in the pain. She’d known in her head he’d be leaving. But somehow she couldn’t believe it. Now it was time.

  Matt stayed on the veranda, gazing out at the sea. Boats sailed across the bay. He glanced at the cliffs. Maybe he’d come again to test himself against them.

  He had to return home. His fall had cemented his commitment to life. Granted, he would always miss his family. But there was more living for him to do. He’d work with his cousins and build the winery up to a world renowned producer of fine French wines. He would spend more time with his aunt and uncle. His father’s brother was the only link he now had to his dad.

  And he would take each day as it came, see what wonders he could wring from it like Jeanne-Marie did. He owed her so much. Her and Alexandre.

  He couldn’t help but smile when he thought of the little boy. He was charming without knowing it. Precocious sometimes and still just a short time away from being a baby. Matt would miss him.

  And he’d miss Jeanne-Marie.

  “Ready,” she said behind him. She’d changed into a pretty pink top that went well with the khaki pants she wore. She’d donned dark glasses against the sun’s glare. He wished he could see her pretty eyes.

  “Let’s walk down on the sidewalks, have lunch and then come back along the sea,” he suggested.

  “Fine.” She fell into step with him as he headed for the small town of St. Bartholomeus. The festive air from La Fête de la Victoire de 1945 was missing. But colorful awnings still shaded sidewalk cafés. The displays in the shops were eclectic and enticing. He wanted to visit the sporting store one more time, check out some of the climbing paraphernalia. Not that he would be doing any climbing soon.

  He took her hand. She laced her fingers with his. It felt right to be seeing the town one last time with her. Would she ever consider coming to see the winery?

  Did he want to continue a relationship with Jeanne-Marie once he left St. Bart? He might not return for many years. There were mountains to climb, other rock formations he wanted to try.

  Yet the thought of saying goodbye bothered him.

  “You’re sure you’re ready to drive all the way home?” she asked as they walked along.

  “The headaches are completely gone. Every once in a while I feel a twinge. Good reminder to focus on what I’m doing and how worse it could have been.”

  “Focus?”

  He looked at her. “I was distracted.”

  “I thought the rain made the rock slippery.”

  “It did. What I lost sight of was how fast the storm was moving in.”

  “Oh.”

  He could tell her he’d been thinking about her. But to what end? He found himself thinking about her most of the time lately.

  They window-shopped. Entered the sporting shop and browsed the climbing gear.

  “Looking for anything special?” she asked.

  “No, just looking. For such a small town, this is a well-stocked store.”

  “Caters to the reasons a lot of people come here—the sea and the cliffs.”

  He’d enjoyed both.

  “Ready to eat?” he asked sometime later.

  “Yes.”

  He glanced ahead; they were near Le Chat Noir. Then he spotted Madame Rousseau sitting at a sidewalk café reading a book.

  “Isn’t that your mother-in-law?” he asked.

  Jeanne-Marie nodded. “Where’re Alexandre and Antoine?” She looked up and down the stre
et.

  “I don’t see them. Maybe in one of the shops?’

  When they drew opposite Adrienne, Jeanne-Marie pulled her hand free and went to the low railing separating the café from the rest of the sidewalk.

  “Adrienne, where’s Alexandre?” she asked as soon as she was close enough for the other woman to hear.

  Adrienne looked up. “He and Antoine went off. He was telling us how he could climb and I guess he wanted to show Antoine.”

  “They went on a climb?”

  “Hardly. I’m sure they went on a gentle ramble. But Alexandre was so delighted his grand-père was here and could see how he could climb, Antoine said he’d go with him. They’ll be back soon, I’m sure. It’s not like he can really climb a cliff, is it?”

  “He climbed a short one.”

  “He’s only five.”

  “It was very easy,” Matt said. “And I understand your husband is an accomplished climber. I’m sure they’ll be fine.” He looked at Jeanne-Marie. “Don’t worry.”

  “Easy for you to say. What if Antoine forgets he’s so little, thinks he can do more than he’s capable of?”

  “Antoine’s hardly dressed for serious climbing,” Adrienne said. “They’ll be back before long. Hungry for lunch, if I know little boys.”

  Jeanne-Marie looked back toward Les Calanques.

  “We could walk back and meet them if you like,” Matt said, picking up on her uncertainty. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. His grandfather knows what little boys can do.”

  “Antoine’s been climbing for decades and never fallen,” Adrienne said, glancing at Matt’s cast.

  “We’ll eat lunch, then if he’s not back, we can walk back along the main trail to meet them.”

  “I think we should go now,” Jeanne-Marie said.

  “Antoine wasn’t going to climb, just see where Alexandre had climbed and spend some time with him,” Adrienne said, rising and tucking her book into her large purse. “I’ll go with you. We can all eat lunch together that way.”

  Jeanne-Marie knew Alexandre’s grandfather would never do anything to harm him, but she still wanted to make sure they were both okay.