Morgan realized she’d been too young to understand the dynamics or the superstitions, but what she’d overheard was disturbing enough for her to ask her mother about it. That was when Gussie sat her three daughters down and warned them that if they repeated gossip about Lucas, Manda, or Odessa they wouldn’t be able to leave the house except to go to school until they were grown and out on their own. Not being Gullah, Gussie never wanted to get caught up with talk about family roots and conjuring.
Morgan hadn’t thought about it until now, and she wondered if Nate had knowledge about or believed what others had said about his parents. He’d opened up to her about his ex-wife, and if he trusted her with that he might eventually open up about his family. One thing she didn’t intend to do was pry. She knew if she hoped to have a positive relationship with Nate, then there had to be mutual trust and respect, something that had been missing in her past two relationships.
Nate walked into the solarium carrying two pillows and a sheet he’d taken from the supply in her bedroom. He handed her the pillows. “I figure we should get some sleep if we’re going to be up late tonight.”
The first day of the fair didn’t begin until 6:00 p.m. All week, workers had been setting up booths and various rides for kids and adults in an open lot in Angels Landing. There were games and contests, with prizes of large stuffed animals. There were booths selling corn dogs, pizza, hot dogs, hamburgers, corn on the cob, beer on tap, funnel cakes, sausage and peppers, cotton candy, and an assortment of candied apples.
Over the next three days, shops in the Cove and Creek would open their doors at six in the morning and remain open until midnight. The farmers’ markets would set up in the Haven Creek Baptist Church parking lot, where locals and tourists would fill bags and baskets with locally grown fruits, vegetables, honey, and meat. On July 4, the Cove’s town square would be the gathering place for those entering their cakes, pies, one-pots, casseroles, and barbecue in contests that would be judged by chefs and cooks from some of South Carolina’s finest restaurants. Home-cooked meals would be made available for sale in all three island churches.
During the Island Fair, the population on Cavanaugh Island usually swelled to more than two thousand on any given day, and plainclothes police officers from Charleston were recruited to monitor suspicious persons and activities. Except for a few arrests for public intoxication, the four-day event usually went off without incident.
Morgan smiled as Nate spread the sheet over her body. Then he got into bed with her. “Does the sunlight bother you?” she asked when he pressed his groin to her hips.
“No.” He kissed her shoulder. “Go to sleep, otherwise I’m going to want seconds.”
“Aren’t you the greedy one?”
“You didn’t know? You smell good and taste even better. And when I’m inside you I feel like we’re the only two people on the planet.”
She closed her eyes, thinking about her lover’s pronouncement. “We’re only two when we’re behind closed doors. Once we open them, we have to be ready for those who may want us together and many others who’d rather see us with other people.”
“I don’t want anyone else, Mo. I want you.”
“You have me, Nate,” she said—but he didn’t have her in the way she wanted him to have her. She wanted him not just today, not just tomorrow, but forever. Although she hadn’t included it on her wish list, she did want a happily ever after.
Pausing, she swallowed the lump rising in her throat. She hoped what she was about to reveal wouldn’t shatter their fragile trust, but Morgan knew she had to let him know what lay in her heart. “I had a huge crush on you in high school.”
A comfortable silence ensued. “Do you still have a huge crush on me?” Nate asked, his voice lowering seductively.
Another beat passed. “I think it’s a bit more than a crush.”
One second she was lying beside Nate, and seconds later she was on her back with him straddling her. “You could’ve told me how much you liked me, Mo.”
“Okay; I tell you that I’ve had feelings for you since high school, and then what?”
“I’d do this.” He kissed the nape of her neck. “And this,” Nate crooned, his mouth moving to a place under her ear, breathing a kiss there. “And of course this.” His mouth covered hers in a kiss that was a caress. He surprised her when instead of making love to her again, he gathered her close and then lay down beside her.
Morgan fell asleep in his arms, reveling in how much she loved being there.
Morgan could feel the excitement in the air as she and Nate made their way to the fairgrounds. Small children who normally would’ve been getting ready to go to bed stared, seemingly transfixed, at the lights ringing the carnival, while teenagers screamed excitedly as they met up with friends. She found the carnivallike atmosphere infectious as she clung to Nate’s arm.
They’d spent the rest of the morning sleeping, awakening to make love again, and then returning to sleep some more well into the afternoon. Nate wanted them to shower together, but she’d opted for a warm bath to soothe muscles she hadn’t used in a long time. They’d shared a passionate kiss before he left, and he promised to return at seven to take her to the fair.
Morgan always liked the first night because the crowds were thinner. Cavanaugh Islanders referred to it as island night, only because most tourists waited until the following morning to visit. Experienced visitors had learned to leave their vehicles in Charleston and take the ferries to the island. Extra ferries were added to the schedule, so that there was a departure and arrival every twenty-five minutes. Free jitney service was available to drive folks around the island. Those wishing to spend all four days on the island reserved rooms at the Cove Inn, Sanctuary Cove’s boardinghouse, and it wasn’t uncommon for residents in Angels Landing to turn their homes into temporary bed-and-breakfasts.
Local shopkeepers always looked forward to the Island Fair as a chance to exhibit their wares. The revenue derived from the four days provided additional income, ensuring financial viability until the next summer season.
Morgan knew that once the restoration of Angels Landing Plantation was finished, it would generate even larger crowds—not just for the four days of the fair or during the summer months, but year-round. Angels Landing Plantation would mirror Colonial Williamsburg in its authenticity. The mansion, slave village, and outbuildings were certain to bring history buffs and school groups to the island, and the conference center, museum, and inn would attract corporate groups and those looking for a destination wedding.
“Do you want to go on the rides or eat first?” Nate asked as they neared the perimeter of the fairgrounds.
Morgan had informed him that she wanted to ride the carousel, bumper cars, and the Ferris wheel. “If you’re hungry we can eat now and ride later.” She glanced up at his profile, still awed at his resemblance to Michelangelo’s David. He appeared dramatic and sexy in black jeans, a T-shirt, and running shoes.
“Don’t you mean hurl later?” Nate said teasingly.
“I beg your pardon! I’ll have you know this girl is tougher than she looks,” she retorted.
Nate pointed to the roller coaster whirling wildly around the track. The riders were screaming hysterically. “Are you willing to go on that?”
She shook her head. “I don’t do roller coasters.”
Leaning into her, he pressed his mouth to her ear. “Are you afraid you’ll hurl, baby?”
Resting her palm on his chest, she pushed him back. “No.”
“Put up or shut up, beautiful.”
Morgan wasn’t certain what Nate sought to prove by getting her to agree to ride on the roller coaster. “What are you wagering, handsome?”
Nate glanced around, then dipped his head and whispered a secret in her ear. “If you agree, then nod your head. If not, then say no.”
If she took him up on his offer it would be a win-win not only for her but for Nate, too. Affecting a sexy moue, she nodded. Throwing back his head,
he laughed heartily, the sound rumbling in his chest.
“Do you mind letting us in on the joke?” asked a familiar female voice.
Morgan and Nate turned at the same time. Francine and David stood less than a foot away, watching them. Francine had exchanged her green sundress for a white halter top and black stretch cropped slacks. David was dressed down in a pair of khakis, slip-ons, and a short-sleeved white shirt.
“Hey, you guys! How long have you been here?” Morgan asked.
David extended a hand to Nate. “We just got here.”
Nate released David’s hand. “Mo and I were going to get something to eat. Do you want to join us?”
Francine and David shared a look. “Sure,” she said.
The two couples headed to the area where people were lining up in front of food trucks. Nate rested a hand at the small of Morgan’s back. “Why don’t you and Red get a table while David and I pick up the food?”
“But you don’t know what we want,” Morgan said to Nate.
Laugh lines fanned out around David’s deep-set dark eyes when he smiled. “Don’t worry, ladies, Nate and I will get a little of everything.”
Nate winked at Morgan. “Yeah. We’ve got this.”
Francine’s eyes narrowed as the two men walked away. “Since when did they become buddies?”
Morgan lifted her shoulders under her tank top. “Since Nate finally realized there’s nothing going on between me and David,” she said, heading for the picnic area, which was dotted with dozens of long tables. A group of teenagers had opted to eat sitting on the grass.
Francine swung her leg over an empty bench, placing her handbag on a space beside her, while Morgan sat opposite her, resting her bag next to her. “There was a time when I thought you and David would become a couple.”
“David’s too uptight for me,” Morgan admitted.
Shifting slightly, Francine gave Morgan a long, penetrating stare. “And Nate isn’t?”
“No. Once you get to know him you’ll find he’s rather laid-back. I think he’s more complex than uptight.”
Francine leaned over the table when several women sat down at the opposite end. “I not only noticed but felt the heat between the two of you at breakfast this morning. And please don’t insult my gift when you talk about being friends,” she whispered. “I should’ve told you even before Nate came back to the Creek that you were going to get involved with him.”
Morgan felt a shiver snake its way down her back. “What’s next, Fran? You’ll see us married and with a house filled with children, cats, and dogs. Speaking of cats, do you still have keys to my place?”
Francine narrowed her green eyes. “Yes. Why?”
“I’m going to need you to come over tomorrow afternoon and check on Rasputin.” Morgan held up a hand when Francine opened her mouth. “Please don’t say anything until I’m finished. Nate and I are going over to Sullivan’s Island tonight. We don’t expect to get back until late tomorrow afternoon. You don’t have to worry about changing Rasputin’s water, because I have the automatic pet waterer and preset feeder. He’ll probably run and hide when you come in, but knowing someone is in the house will ease his anxiety of being left alone for so many hours.”
“Who or what’s on Sullivan’s Island?”
“I don’t know. Nate says it’s a surprise.” Morgan had told Francine a half-truth. She’d been shocked when he’d mentioned Sullivan’s Island, but there was no way she was going to tell Francine what he’d planned for them.
“You and your neurotic cat. What you need is to marry Nate and have a few—”
“Enough about me marrying Nate,” Morgan said, interrupting her. “It’s not going to happen, so please don’t mention it again.”
“Why not?” Francine asked, ignoring her entreaty.
Chewing her lip, Morgan stared at a nearby table, which was filled with the women who made up the beautification committee. “Nate told me he’s never getting married again.”
The redhead snorted delicately. “And you believe him.”
“Of course I believe him, Fran. Why shouldn’t I?”
“Have you heard of people changing their minds? I do it at least two or three times a day.”
Morgan shook her head. “Folks don’t change their minds about something as serious as marriage. Either you want to do it or you don’t. And Nate has been very vocal about not doing it again.”
Lines of frustration creased Francine’s smooth forehead. “You can’t tell me he’s going to close himself off from women because his ho of an ex-wife opened her legs like an ATM spitting out cash. I can’t begin to imagine his humiliation once she revealed the number of men she’d slept with, but at least he came away looking like a good guy, which is more than I can say about most of the male celebrities who’ve been caught with their pants down.”
“I don’t think he was concerned about his image,” Morgan said in defense of her lover. “Something tells me he doesn’t trust women.”
“Why on earth would you say that, Mo? Men who don’t trust women use them. And I doubt very much if he’s using you.”
“No, he isn’t, and if he tried I’d be gone so fast he’d forget what I looked like. There’s no way I’m going to allow another man to use me.”
“Now you sound like me, Mo. Marrying Aiden was a big mistake, but I’m not going to blame all men because I’d fallen in love with a parasite.”
“Are you saying you’re ready to get married again?” Morgan asked Francine.
“I’m not actively looking for a husband, but I realize I’m not getting any younger, and if I want a couple of babies I have to start viewing the men I date differently.”
“What you need to do is learn to cook,” Morgan said with a twinkle in her eye. “At least enough so your husband and children don’t starve.”
Francine rolled her eyes. “I don’t need to learn if he cooks.”
Morgan smiled, her straight white teeth contrasting with her dark skin. “What are you going to do when you meet someone you like? Ask him whether he can cook?”
“That’s not funny, Mo,” Francine said. She sobered quickly, a slight frown appearing between her eyes. “I’m looking for someone with whom I can have a good time. If it leads to marriage, then that would be great. But if I don’t marry again before my biological clock stops ticking, then I’ll adopt. There are too many of our babies languishing in foster care who need a permanent home. I’m also not going to apologize when I say I plan to spoil the hell outta them.”
Morgan shook her head. “I know children aren’t perfect, but if your children turn into Bay Bay’s kids, then please don’t ask me to babysit.”
Morgan was always available to babysit Amanda whenever Rachel and James wanted to spend quality time together. One weekend, she had all her nephews and her niece over for an extended slumber party. She’d taken requests for their favorite foods, movies, and board games. There was nonstop noise, and the doors were constantly opening and closing whenever they came into or left the house. Brian and Brandon assisted her on the gas grill, while Amanda and Ethan were given the task of setting and clearing the picnic table. Morgan enjoyed spending time with her niece and nephews, but was left thoroughly exhausted from the ongoing activity. After the weekend she had a newfound respect for women who had to care for children and work outside the home.
Francine patted Morgan’s hand. “Now, you know you’re going to love my babies even if they’re off the chain. All I have to tell them is their Auntie Mo is going to cook for them and they’ll camp out on your front porch, crying until you open the door.”
Clamping a hand over her mouth, Morgan laughed so hard that her sides hurt. Even if she was feeling down she could always count on her friend to cheer her up. And Francine could always count on Morgan to be there for her. Morgan wondered what her friend would say when she finally admitted she’d fallen in love with Nate, and that Francine’s vision had come true after all.
Chapter Eighteen
“We got burgers, fries, pizza, sausage-and-pepper sandwiches, buffalo wings, and corn on the cob.”
David sat down next to Francine and uncovered his containers. “And we have fried calamari, shrimp cocktail, soft-shell crabs, and beef and fish tacos.”
Francine stared at David, her mouth gaping. “Who’s going to eat all this food?”
“We are,” David and Nate chorused.
There was no way four people could eat that much in one sitting. Nate placed a cup of lemonade in front of her along with a foam plate and plastic utensils, while David put out a stack of napkins and more plastic forks and spoons.
“We’re going to give some of this away. I wouldn’t want any of it to go to waste,” Morgan stated. Rising slightly, she picked up a box containing two single-serving pizzas and set it aside. Then she covered the containers with two sausage-and-pepper heroes and another brimming with chicken wings. Stacking them, she stood up and walked over to a table where a young woman was sitting with three tweens. “Hey, Queenie. Nate bought too much food, so I’d like to give it to you and your children.”
The family would’ve been homeless if Queenie’s elderly parents hadn’t taken them in. Willie Evans had waited until New Year’s Eve to inform Queenie that he was leaving his family for a woman he’d met on the Internet. His defection was short-lived, because the woman reconciled with her boyfriend soon thereafter. Even though Willie begged Queenie to take him back, she refused. The former stay-at-home mother had gotten a part-time job as a salesclerk at the Cannery. Whenever Morgan shopped at the store, which offered local canned fruits and vegetables, she made certain to give Queenie the sale because it added to her commission.
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