Haven Creek

by Rochelle Alers

  “What about you, Nate?”

  “What about me, Dad?” He knew his father hated when he answered his question with another question.

  “Have you thought about getting married again?”

  An uncomfortable silence ensued. “No.”

  “You’re only thirty-seven, and much too young to spend the rest of your life alone. Don’t you want a family?”

  “I have a family: you, Bryce, Sharon, and the kids.”

  “Aren’t you lonely?”

  Nate gave his father a direct stare. “Just because I’m alone doesn’t mean that I’m lonely.”

  “That’s horseshit and you know it.”

  If Nate was shocked at his father’s comeback he refused to show it. One thing he didn’t want to do was argue with him—and especially not with an audience present. In the past they’d had their dustups, but always behind closed doors. There had been a time when Nate believed the Shaws put the “dys” in dysfunction, but after leaving the Creek he’d discovered his family wasn’t that unique when it came to problems and secrets better left unspoken.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said softly.

  “Avoiding the issue isn’t going to solve anything.”

  A frown settled into Nate’s features. “Come on, Dad. Not today. I came here to celebrate Jeff’s wedding and have a little fun.”

  “Speaking of fun, what you should do is hook up with Morgan. Not only is she pretty but she’s real smart. I admire her because she could’ve graduated college and moved away like so many of our younger folks. But she stayed, put down roots, and opened her own design firm.”

  Nate chuckled softly. “Since when did you start matchmaking?”

  Lucas managed to look embarrassed. “I’m not really matchmaking, son. It’s just that if you do decide to start going out again you won’t have to look very far for a good woman.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I’ll be certain to keep that in mind.” What his father didn’t realize was that he wasn’t interested in hooking up with any woman—at least not on a permanent basis, because when it came to relationships he was batting zero. “Can we table this discussion for another time?”

  Lucas ran a hand over his face. “Okay. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

  Nate laughed. “Dad, I have plans tomorrow.”

  “We’re not going to see you for Sunday dinner?”

  “No. I’m going to use the rest of the weekend to finish roofing the barn.”

  Lucas frowned. “That can wait, Nate.”

  “They’re predicting rain next week, and you know I can’t work outdoors in the rain. I promise I’ll come over next Sunday.”

  With the shop closed for the holiday weekend, he would have another two days not to get into it with his dad about his current marital status. Nate knew his father wanted him to get involved with a woman, but that decision would have to be his own. He’d spent half his life making his own decisions. Whether he succeeded or failed, only he had to live with the outcome.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked Lucas.

  “I can’t have what I’d like to drink,” the older man mumbled angrily.

  Attractive lines fanned out around Nate’s eyes when he smiled. He knew his father liked to occasionally take a shot of bourbon after dinner followed by a cigar, but had given up both because his doctor had cautioned him about the health risks. He rested a hand on Lucas’s shoulder. “If you get your blood pressure under control, then maybe you’ll be able to take a nip or two.”

  Lucas’s expression brightened. “To tell you the truth, I really don’t miss it all that much.”

  “That’s—” Whatever Nate was going to say was preempted when the volume on the music was lowered and the DJ announced the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Jeffrey Hamilton. The sound of thunderous applause followed the announcement as Jeff, Kara, and the bridal party entered the main tent. “Come, Dad, let’s go and sit down.”

  Lucas craned his neck, looking around him. “Where’s Bryce?”

  “Don’t worry. He’s not going anywhere.” Nate escorted his father to a table that was quickly filling up with Haven Creek residents. “Put your hat on the chair next to yours for Odessa.”

  “Where are you going to sit?” Lucas asked when he realized every seat at the table had been claimed.

  He pointed to a nearby table. “I’ll be over there.”

  Nate walked over to a table where a group of women wearing fancy hats were seated. They looked as if they were going to a royal wedding or the Kentucky Derby. He greeted those he knew by name and nodded to the others, giving them a friendly smile. With the exception of the sheriff’s clerk, all of them were over seventy. Some were widowed and a few had never married.

  “Ladies, do you mind if I join you?”

  His query elicited blushing and fluttering eyelids. “Please do, Nate,” crooned Winnie Powell. Jeff’s clerk had to tilt her head to meet his eyes because the brim of her hat obscured most of her face.

  He saw his sister, brother-in-law, and niece and nephew sitting with his brother-in-law’s family two tables away from where he sat. There were a few empty chairs, but it was too late to change tables. Nate’s impassive expression did not change when Odessa entered the tent, searched the crowd, and then walked over and sat down next to Lucas. Looking as if she’d just stepped off the pages of a slick fashion magazine, she waved a white-gloved hand to Nate when their gazes met, he nodding in acknowledgment. His relationship with Odessa hadn’t been strained until she married his father, and, not wanting to exacerbate the situation, he felt that living with Sharon and her family would be less uncomfortable than living with Lucas—not only for him but for Lucas and Odessa as well.

  Nate directed his attention to the woman sitting opposite him. She hadn’t changed in thirty years. Her snow-white bobbed hair, bright blue eyes, and Cupid’s bow lips were still the same. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Cunningham.”

  The elderly woman squinted at him over her half-glasses. “Aren’t you Manda and Lucas’s boy?”

  He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Weren’t you in my class?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Nate repeated. “I was in your fourth grade class the year Adrienne McIntosh represented South Carolina in the National Spelling—” He didn’t get to finish his statement before a pair of scented arms looped around his neck at the same time a pair of soft lips grazed his cheek.

  “Promise you’ll save me a dance, Nate,” a feminine voice whispered in his ear.

  He recognized the sultry tone of the woman leaning in a little too close for propriety. As a teenager she’d earned the reputation as a flirt, and no doubt that hadn’t changed. Pendulous breasts rested on his shoulder as the perfume wafting from her body smothered him like a heavy blanket.

  “Sure, Trina,” he said, even though he hadn’t planned on dancing with anyone. If he hadn’t have promised to meet Morgan he would’ve left right after the bride and groom personally greeted their guests. The women at the table glared at Trina as she walked away, her generous hips gyrating rhythmically in a too-tight dress that displayed her full, curvaceous body to its best advantage.

  “What a brazen heifer,” Winnie spat out under her breath.

  “She’s always been too loose for my tastes,” said Donna Shelton, a retired school librarian.

  “You watch out for her, Nathaniel,” Mrs. Cunningham warned. “She’s already had a couple of husbands, a bunch of babies, and she’s been out trolling for husband number three.”

  He smiled. “Thanks for the warning.”

  Nate lowered his head, staring at the tablecloth. Nothing had changed. Whenever it was his mother’s turn to host the quilting bee, he and Sharon would sit at the top of the staircase and eavesdrop on the grown folks’ conversations. If Manda knew what her children were up to, she would’ve grounded them for the entire school year. Some of the talk he understood, but occasionally their discussions went directly over his head. Like when they’d whispered abo
ut a woman fixin’ her husband after she caught him tomcattin’. He knew what tomcatting meant, but not what they meant by fixing.

  Once he’d entered adolescence, gossip wasn’t even a passing thought, because Nate found other things to hold his interest, especially cars and girls. Even though he wasn’t permitted to date until he turned sixteen, that still hadn’t stopped him from hanging out on the beach with his friends after he’d completed his chores. His life was simple and predictable. His parents’ mandate was: go to school, pass the courses, and help out in the shop. He and Lucas had struck a deal. Nate would get up early during the summer months and work in the shop for six hours. After that, he was free to do whatever he wanted.

  Everything was perfect until he turned fifteen. Manda had complained of chronic fatigue along with back pain. This was followed by rapid weight loss and days when she’d been too tired to get out of bed. When Lucas finally convinced her to see a doctor, the diagnosis was devastating and life altering for the entire family. Manda had pancreatic carcinoma, and the cancer had metastasized to other organs. The oncologist predicted she wouldn’t survive a year.

  Manda prepared her family for the inevitable, putting on a brave face for her son and daughter. But nothing could prepare Nate for losing his mother. Manda died, and the woman who’d been her nurse and childhood friend married Manda’s widowed husband three months later. Gossip was rampant that Odessa couldn’t wait for Manda’s body to get cold before she worked her wiles on the grieving widower. And when Bryce was born, everyone began counting on their fingers. Odessa claimed he’d come two months early, but Bryce’s birth weight indicated he was unquestionably full-term.

  When it came time to attend college, Nate hadn’t wanted to leave Haven Creek. It meant leaving Sharon, who was two years his junior, and Bryce. His younger brother had just turned three and followed him everywhere. Nate had nicknamed him Shadow. Despite his hesitancy, though, Nate left to attend college. He needed the three thousand miles and a totally different lifestyle to mentally distance himself from his father, stepmother, and Cavanaugh Island.

  “Nathaniel?”

  His former teacher called his name, shattering his musings. “Yes, Mrs. Cunningham?”

  “Are you sweet on some young girl?”

  Leaning back in his chair, Nate smothered a curse. He didn’t want to believe she’d asked him something so personal—and in front of eight other women. “No, ma’am.”

  Winnie placed her hand on Nate’s. “If that’s the case, then I’d like to introduce you to my younger sister, who lives in D.C. Lately she’s been going out with a bunch of losers. I keep warning her about online dating, but she claims she likes variety.”

  Mrs. Cunningham shook her head. “Now, why would Nathaniel want a woman who sleeps around?”

  A deep flush suffused Winnie’s face. “I didn’t say she sleeps around, Miss Alison.”

  “Well, it sounds like she does, if she’s dating that many men,” Mrs. Cunningham retorted.

  Nate pushed back his chair. “Excuse me, ladies, but I have to meet someone.”

  It was apparent he’d made a mistake by sitting at a table with so many women. It was also obvious they saw him as someone they could dangle in front of their single female relatives. Well, he wanted no part of their hookup schemes. He’d never had a problem attracting a woman, and if he was interested in one he had no qualms about asking her out. Reaching into the pocket of his slacks, he took out his cell phone. He had another forty minutes before he was scheduled to meet Morgan. Glancing around, he spied her with her parents.

  Taking determined steps, he approached the trio. “Good afternoon, Dr. Dane, Miss Gussie.”

  “Good afternoon, Nate.” The elder Danes, both dentists, greeted him in unison. Everyone had taken to calling Morgan’s mother Miss Gussie to clarify which Dr. Dane they were referring to. It didn’t seem to bother Gussie that her patients referred to her husband Stephen as Dr. Dane.

  His eyes met Morgan’s. “I know we’re supposed to meet at three, but is it possible for us to meet sooner?”

  “Sure.” Morgan nodded to her parents. “Mama, Daddy, please excuse us.”

  Cupping her elbow, Nate led her out of the tent and into the brilliant sunlight. “I’m sorry to intrude on you and your folks—”

  “Don’t worry about it, Nate,” Morgan said softly. “I’ll see them tomorrow for Sunday dinner.”

  Nate stared at Morgan’s small doll-like face under the upturned brim of her sunflower-yellow straw hat. It was no wonder men were drawn to her. Everything about her was stunning! He found her wide-set eyes, flawless dark brown complexion, delicate features, and dimpled smile mesmerizing.

  “Is there a problem?” Morgan asked.

  “Nothing monumental, except that I had to get away from the ladies at my table.”

  She gave him a sidelong glance, her lips parting, dimples winking at him. “Were they trying to hook you up with their granddaughters?”

  Nate stopped in midstride, causing Morgan to lose her balance. Reacting quickly, his hands spanning her waist, he held her steady. “How did you know?”

  Still cradled in his embrace, her smile grew wider. “Nate Shaw,” she said in a soft voice. “Either you’ve been away too long or you don’t get out enough.”

  Nate stared at Morgan’s mouth. Even her teeth were perfect, but he figured they would be, given that her mother was an oral surgeon and her father was an orthodontist. And he knew when she’d called him by his first and last name that it was a slight reprimand.

  “Perhaps it’s both.”

  She sobered. “You were sitting with the ladies that make up the recently formed Cavanaugh Island Beautification Committee. Their raison d’être is beautifying the Cove and Creek business districts and also some of the less than attractive homes in the Landing. But the word is they’re better suited to matchmaking. They began targeting any single person from twenty to forty after an op-ed piece appeared in the Chronicle about high school kids who leave home to go to college or into the military but opt not to come back here to live. Jeff was the exception when he came back after his grandmother’s heart attack. So when you decided to sit with them it was like walking into a minefield.”

  “What about you, Mo? You’re still here.”

  “And you came back,” she countered in a soft tone.

  He nodded. “That’s because my family needed me.” A beat passed. “Have they ever tried hooking you up with someone?”

  Morgan took a step backward, and he dropped his arms. “Too many times to count,” she admitted as they continued to walk.

  “I suppose they’ll stop now that you’re with David.” Her gentle laughter floated in the air. “What’s so funny?” Nate asked.

  “What’s funny is there’s nothing going on between David and me. We’re just friends.”

  He had his answer. Morgan and David weren’t seeing each other, which made her fair game for the ladies who apparently were using their beautification activities as a smoke screen for a matchmaking or dating service. Nate didn’t understand why it’d been so important to know her relationship status, because if he were to have a relationship with Morgan—or any woman, for that matter—he feared it would be short-lived.

  He thought about what Morgan said about leaving the island. He’d been one of those who’d left to attend college, but instead of returning to pick up the reins of Shaw Woodworking he’d decided to live in California. And it’d taken nearly twenty years for him to find his way back home.

  In a way, his life had paralleled that of his friend Jeff, who’d left to attend college and then went into the Marine Corps. Jeff had come back to care for his grandmother, whereas Nate had returned to look after his brother and take over the family business. Unlike Jeff, though, Nate doubted he would remarry. He’d been there, done that, and wasn’t about to have his heart ripped apart again.

  They were near the parking area when he said, “I want to stop and get my sunglasses.”

  �
��And I have to go to my car and change my shoes,” Morgan added.

  Nate glanced down at her narrow feet. Although they were sexy, the stiletto heels were not practical for walking on grassy surfaces. “It’s a wonder you can walk in those things.”

  “I’ve had a lot of practice. I used to put on my mother’s heels and play dress-up, so when it came time to wear them I was already a pro.”

  Resting a hand at the small of Morgan’s back, he steered her away from the cars maneuvering into the line for valet parking. “We’ll go to your car first, and then mine.” Now he knew what his father had been talking about when Morgan opened her tiny purse. She pressed a button on her key fob and remotely opened the hatch on a gleaming white Cadillac Escalade. It was a full-size luxury hybrid SUV with seating for eight.

  “Nice ride,” he crooned. Nate found the smell of leather as intoxicating as that of raw wood.

  Morgan beamed, as if he had complimented her baby. “Thank you.” She exchanged her stilettos for a pair of patterned Burberry flats. Her head came up, and she glanced at him staring down at her. “I’m ready,” she announced after closing the hatch.

  Nate blinked, as if coming out of a trance. He felt like a voyeur because he’d found himself unable to stop staring at her legs. “Do you always keep boots in your truck?” Morgan had stored a pair of Doc Martens and a hard hat in the cargo area.

  Morgan nodded. She slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “I keep them around in case I have to go to a construction site.”

  He protectively took her hands in his and noticed her fingers were cold as ice. “Are your hands always so cold?”

  Morgan smiled up at him. “Cold hands, warm heart.”

  Nate had no comeback for her quip, because he didn’t know Morgan as well as he knew her sisters, who were closer to his age. Besides, knowing her better would only lead to trouble. He wasn’t interested in getting involved with any woman in the Creek, the Cove, or the Landing. All the relationships he’d had in college and those that followed ended badly, but when he met Kim he’d believed his luck had changed. They dated for more than a year, then moved in together. Six months later they announced their engagement, and on the one-year anniversary of their first date they married in a typical high-profile celebrity Hollywood wedding, with helicopters buzzing overhead and paparazzi with telephoto lenses attempting to capture images of the private gathering.