Island Summer Love

by Amy Belding Brown

  “Well, see you around.” Brent waved and gunned the engine. A moment later the truck was roaring back down the road, kicking up a thin golden trail of dust in its wake.

  Allison started down the hill toward the Cutler house, relishing the touch of the warm sun on her back, the cries of the gulls that swung above her head. Tired as she was, she was already looking forward to the next day. She was particularly excited about working with Ricky. He was a natural leader; with a little guidance and encouragement, he would be a credit to the island.

  She felt so at home on Harper’s Island; it was hard to believe she’d only arrived a couple of weeks ago. The thought of leaving at the end of the summer was depressing. She pushed it away; she was too tired to think of such things now. She’d have to take things one day at a time, the way the children did. As if to confirm her thought, she heard Isabel’s reassuring voice in the back of her mind: Things will work out, dear. They always do.

  The week flew by. Allison was up with the sun every morning, eager for the challenge of the day ahead. When she returned to Isabel’s house early in the afternoon, she always found Martha in a good mood, waiting to hear the adventures of her day. She was grateful for her friend’s listening ear, but it puzzled her that Martha wasn’t doing more complaining about her confined state. It wasn’t like her friend to endure such restrictions in silence.

  On Friday morning Allison discovered the reason for her friend’s contentment. The children had all left just after ten to go the mainland where a children’s carnival was running for the weekend. Matt Flory and Newt Emory had offered their lobster boats for transportation, and four high school girls had volunteered to chaperone, along with several of the mothers. Although she had originally planned to go, Allison decided against it at the last moment, when she realized that there were almost as many chaperones as children, and a sudden wave of fatigue had reminded her that she needed rest more than more excitement. She left the school at eleven and walked back to the Cutlers’. When she came down the road and rounded the curve above the house, she saw Brent’s truck parked in the driveway. She instantly understood why Martha had been so cheerful during her convalescence. Brent had been visiting her daily.

  She hesitated at the end of the driveway. The fact that she hadn’t seen Brent in four days had slowed the emotional roller coaster she’d been on since her arrival on Harper’s Island. She didn’t want to see him now. Maybe she could sneak in the back door and up the stairs without either Martha or Brent knowing she was in the house.

  She moved quietly to the back door and opened it. As she’d expected, Brent’s low voice came from the living room. She heard Martha’s answering giggle and straightened her shoulders resolutely. She wasn’t going to let him get to her this time. The truth was unmistakable: Brent was a man who made time with any pretty woman available. Just because he was handsome and charming, Allison thought, didn’t mean she had to be one of them.

  “You are wicked!” She heard Martha’s laughing voice, imagined the two of them locked together on one end of the couch. Her heart pounding, she hurried across the kitchen to the stairs. On the first step she stumbled and, arms flailing, backed into the table and sent one of the chairs crashing to the floor.

  “Damn!” She bent quickly to right the chair, then heard Brent’s footsteps crossing the living room. Even though her back was to the door, she knew the instant he entered the kitchen. She gritted her teeth in rage and frustration. The last thing on earth she wanted was to face him.

  “Allison.” There was a trace of laughter in his voice. “Are you okay?”

  She straightened and forced herself to look at him. “I’m fine. I’m sorry if I bothered you.”

  “No bother.” He came across the room toward her. He was smiling. “I have good news. Or rather, Martha does.”

  “Good news?” Her heart shriveled. Were they about to announce their engagement?

  His grin widened. “Cabot’s here.”

  “Cabot? Here?”

  “Well, not here exactly. He’s settling into the guest house at the Hollingsworth place. I’ll take you up there. Right now, if you want.”

  “Take me there?” She licked her suddenly parched lips. She felt dizzy, confused.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” He frowned, extended a steadying hand toward her.

  She swallowed. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

  “Well, I’ll take you there after you’ve had a chance to rest, then. Whenever.”

  “I don’t—” She stopped, blinked up at him. She had almost said she didn’t want to go! What was happening to her lately? The only time she was happy was when she was with a bunch of little kids!

  He was watching her intently. She had the uncanny sensation that his blue eyes were penetrating her brain. She turned and started up the stairs. Her back stiffened as she heard him follow her, felt his fingers brush her arm.

  “You’re scared, aren’t you? You don’t really want to face him.” Was there the trace of a taunt in his voice, or was his tone a measure of concern?

  “No, you’re wrong!” She whirled on him. “I’d love a ride. I’m going to get freshened up right now. I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

  She ran up the stairs before he could see the consternation in her eyes.

  When Allison came into the kitchen fifteen minutes later, dressed in a sleeveless blue sweater and a soft, denim skirt, Brent was leaning against the door frame, talking with Martha. “I’m ready.” Allison touched a lock of hair that had escaped the ministrations of her brush. Her hair was piled high on her head, knotted into a bun, the way Cabot liked it. He couldn’t tolerate anything wild-looking or unkempt. Well, she’d done the best she could. Not bad for spur-of-the-moment elegance, especially when she was dog-tired.

  Brent turned and gave her an appreciative grin. “Not bad. But your hair looks much better down.”

  “I didn’t put it up for you.”

  “No, indeed. And I’m sure it’s perfect for Cabot.” Martha appeared beside him, leaning on her crutches. “Have a great time, Allison. Give him a kiss for me.”

  “Sure.” Allison gave her friend a weak smile.

  Brent crossed the room to her and placed his hand lightly on her back. “We’d better get going.” He steered her toward the back door. Her skin tingled under his hand.

  “Are you coming back here, Brent?” Martha asked.

  He nodded. “You bet. Isabel’s got a big shindig planned for tonight to welcome Cabot to the island.”

  “What fun!” Martha grinned. “I can’t wait!”

  Allison groaned inwardly. She dreaded the thought of being in the same room with both Cabot and Brent.

  Outside, Brent insisted on helping her into his truck. “Don’t want to mess up those fancy duds.” He grinned, climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. A moment later his fingers touched her neck, stroking the sensitive curve of bare skin.

  “Stop that!” She glared at him and jerked her head away.

  “Sorry. I couldn’t resist. I’m beginning to understand why Cabot likes your hair up.”

  Allison sighed. “Just take me to the guest house, please.”

  “Anything you say, love. How’s the play group going?” He seemed lighthearted and congenial. Apparently his gesture hadn’t meant anything; it was probably just the mischievous boy in him coming to the surface. She wondered if he was oblivious to the fact she was trembling.

  “Fine,” she said, trying to smile. “The kids are great.”

  “Could you use any help?”

  She glanced at him warily. “I’m managing.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “If you mean, can you come and watch me sweat, the answer is no.” She thought her words would silence him, but he seemed undaunted.

  “I thought maybe I’d come around some afternoon, take them on a hike along the north cliff. It’s a little tricky up there. You wouldn’t want to do it alone.”

  “I had no inten
tion of doing it at all.”

  “Prickly today, aren’t we?”

  “I’ve got a lot on my mind,” she snapped, and turned away from him to look out at the pine trees flashing past the truck.

  “I’ll bet you do,” he said softly. Suddenly he slowed the truck, turned onto a narrow dirt side road and pulled to a stop.

  “What are you doing?” There was no house in sight. “Where are we?”

  He had stopped smiling. He was watching her closely. “Look,” he said quietly, “how much longer are we going to keep up this charade?” He slid across the seat to her, put his arms around her. Little shivers of joy ran down her spine. “Allison, you could resolve this thing right now. Get it over with today.”

  “Resolve what? Get what over with?” Her mind told her to open the truck door and get out, to put as much distance as possible between herself and Brent Connors. But her body seemed paralyzed, powerless.

  He cupped her chin in his hand, turned her head gently to face him. “Give him back the ring, Allison. First thing.”

  She had to lower her eyes, retreat from his penetrating gaze, before she could speak. “You don’t understand,” she murmured. “You don’t know Cabot.”

  “You’re just making it harder on yourself. It doesn’t have to be this difficult. We don’t have to play these games, love.”

  She tried to turn her head away, but the pressure of his hand held her immobile. “Let me go,” she said. “Please, Brent.”

  He closed his eyes for a minute. A huge sigh came from him. He released her and slid back behind the wheel. “Well, you can’t say I didn’t try.” He backed up, turned the truck onto the larger road again. “I want you to know where I stand, Allison. But I’m not trying to make your life miserable.”

  “I know where you stand,” she said tightly. “That’s been pretty clear from the first day.”

  “Good,” he said cheerfully. “One thing I like is being clear.”

  A few moments later they pulled up in front of a small, gray Cape tucked behind two ancient pines on the hill below the Hollingsworth cottage.

  “This is it.” He opened the door and jumped down, but Allison managed to get out before he could come around to her side.

  She forced herself to smile at him. “Thanks for the ride.”

  Brent leaned against the truck, watching, as Allison walked up the narrow brick path to the front door. She felt his eyes on her back, like two hot coals burning through her.

  The door opened before she reached it, and there was Cabot, tall and handsome in a polo shirt and tweed blazer and casual, camel-colored slacks. He lifted his hand in a small wave to Brent, and opened his arms to Allison.

  She ran into his embrace, aware with every step that Brent was still observing her. She smiled. This would prove to him that she really loved Cabot. A woman didn’t run to greet a man she didn’t love. Cabot gathered her into his arms, but when she raised her face to his, he didn’t kiss her, simply smiled down at her fondly. His lips were cold and hard, unmoving. Allison felt an icy claw slice into her chest. He took her wrists and gently lowered her arms.

  “How nice you look, darling.” His smile looked etched onto his handsome face.

  “I missed you, Cabot!” She pleaded with her eyes for him to kiss her, but he was wooden, unreachable. She stood with her arms hanging at her sides while Cabot crossed the lawn to the truck to shake Brent’s hand.

  “Thanks so much for bringing her here. I hope I can return the favor sometime.”

  She saw Brent’s grin and cringed inwardly.

  “I hope so, too.” Brent nodded to Allison and climbed back into his truck. “I’ll be back to pick you both up for dinner at six o’clock sharp. Isabel’s orders.”

  The truck left with a roar, and Allison found herself following it with her eyes all the way down the hill.

  Cabot walked slowly back to her. “How are you feeling, darling? When I received the news about your ankle, I was quite concerned.” He took her hands. “It was difficult not being able to come immediately.”

  “My ankle’s fine.” She waited while he opened the door for her, despite her instinctive urge to yank it open and stalk into the house. “How did the merger go?”

  “Fine, fine.” He followed her inside. “It was actually more of a takeover. We had the other company right where we wanted them. They couldn’t do a thing.” He chuckled. “You should have seen them squirm.”

  She pushed away a little ripple of revulsion. “I’m glad things worked out so well for you.” She smiled up at him. “And I’m even more glad you came.”

  He smiled and embraced her again. She leaned against him, tried to melt into his arms; her anger slowly ebbed away. He kissed her carefully, his lips dry against hers.

  “There,” he said, smiling down at her. “I’ve been waiting for two whole weeks to do that.”

  She had no heart to tell him that his kiss wasn’t really a kiss at all. How could Cabot’s embraces have satisfied her only a short time ago? She felt a flash of anger. It was Brent’s fault. His kisses had spoiled her. Would she spend her whole married life with Cabot hungering for a passionate kiss?

  No, other things would take the place of passion. She would find plenty to keep her busy and happy in Cabot Wilder’s world of wealth and privilege.

  “Come, darling.” Cabot took her hand and led her into the small living room, pulled her down beside him into the deeply upholstered couch. “We have so much to talk about. Mother has a million plans for the wedding and she’s unbelievably frustrated that you aren’t in Boston this summer so she can fill you in. Worse yet, you’re incommunicado on this godforsaken island! She made me promise to bring you back as soon as possible.”

  Allison frowned. “But I can’t go back! I’ve started a play group for the children.”

  “Ah yes, Brent told me all about it when he drove me up here from the ferry. Apparently you’re the talk of the island.” He sandwiched her hand between his. “But surely someone else can run around after the little ones for the rest of the summer. You have more important things to do.”

  “There’s nothing more important than taking care of children! I love children!”

  He leaned his head against the back of the couch, chuckling softly. “Children will always be around, darling. You have only one wedding in your lifetime.”

  She stood up. “I’m really tired. Is there some place I can lie down for a little while?”

  He frowned up at her. “It’s not like you to run off in the middle of a conversation, Allison.”

  “I’m not running off. I’m just tired.”

  He sighed. “There’s a bed upstairs, if you can call it that.” He twisted his face into a grimace. “I can’t believe the Hollingsworths would put their guests up in a place so primitive.”

  Allison shrugged. “I think it’s very comfortable.”

  He smiled and settled deeper into the couch. “I can see you still have a great deal to learn, Allison. Luckily, my mother has decided to spend considerable time visiting us after we’re married. She’ll be able to teach you a great deal.”

  Allison turned and left the room, resenting his arrogance and disdain. What if she told him the real reason for wanting a rest? That she needed strength for the evening ahead, when she’d be seated at the same table with Brent Connors? She climbed the stairs and found the simple bedroom at the top. It reminded her of her room in Isabel’s house; a narrow cot, a chair, a plain wooden bureau. She lowered herself onto the bed, kicked off her shoes, lay back and fell immediately asleep, exhausted by the emotional chaos of her day.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Allison woke from a troubling dream. In it, Isabel was scolding her for having forgotten some ingredient in a cake.

  “Don’t you understand?” she’d said. “If you leave out the lovage, there won’t be a cake. Just a pile of dried-up batter.”

  Allison sat up and glanced at her watch. It was six-fifteen. Why hadn’t Cabot woken her?

 
She put on her shoes, reached to smooth her rumpled hair. Several tendrils had come loose from the confining combs, but she had no time to fix it now. Brent had said he would pick them up at six o’clock.

  She went to the window, peered out. Brent’s truck was parked in the driveway, but there was no sign of either him or Cabot. The house was totally silent.

  She ran down the stairs, ducked into the empty living room, caught a glimpse of herself in the hall mirror as she went through into the kitchen. She scowled in disgust. She might just as well wear her hair down. It would look better than this rumpled, frowsy mess on top of her head. She yanked the combs savagely out of her hair and stuck them into the pocket of her skirt.

  She heard the sound of male voices outside, and followed them quickly. She saw the two men before they saw her. Brent was leaning against a huge maple, smiling, while Cabot strutted around like a peacock, boasting about his latest polo game. She pressed her hands together at her waist.

  “Hi!” she called, forcing her voice to register a cheeriness she didn’t feel.

  Brent and Cabot both turned toward her at the same moment. But it was Brent who crossed the lawn to her first.

  “Well, Sleeping Beauty! I wish Cabot had let me come up and kiss you awake like the prince that I am.” His right cheek dimpled. “It’s his fault if Gran’s got her dander up.”

  “What happened to your hair?” Cabot came toward her, frowning.

  “I took it down. It was a mess.”

  “It is a mess. Take a few minutes and fix it, darling. Please.”

  Brent turned to look at him. Allison could see the flint in his eyes as he spoke.

  “Her hair looks fine to me.”

  Cabot didn’t return his glance. “Allison, we’re going to dinner. You don’t want to look like a hillbilly.”

  A month ago she would have done exactly as he wished; she had been brought up to please the man in her life. But the set of Brent’s shoulders, his look of disgust, fired her own anger. She lifted her chin.