The Road Not Taken (The Daddy Diaries)

by Jackie Braun

  “Better do as she says,” Bonnie said on a laugh.

  “Yes. It only took this one a few years to take her own advice,” Doreen teased. “And by then she was family and I put family to work.”

  The women shared a chuckle. Caro envied their obviously close relationship. It was more like that of a mother and daughter or even of two friends, whereas all of her dealings with her mother-in-law were strained if not outright unpleasant. It was rare that Caro and Susan shared a laugh, unless it was over something cute that Cabot did. Even then it wasn’t long before Susan found something to criticize.

  Isn’t it time he had a haircut?

  His cheeks look flushed. Are you sure you put on sunscreen before setting off to the beach?

  You really need to have a firmer hand with him when it comes to sweets.

  Susan had probably already confiscated his Easter basket, assuming it had any edible treats in it.

  From somewhere in the inn came a couple of high-pitched shrieks and the sound of racing feet.

  “How much candy do you figure Dean’s let them have since I told them no more?” Bonnie asked. “I’d better intervene. At this rate, there won’t be anything left in their baskets by nightfall.”

  As Bonnie left the kitchen, Jake entered. He was dressed in jeans and a wool crewneck, over which he’d already pulled his shearling coat. His gaze lingered on Caro a moment until his mother said, “Where are you off to?”

  “I thought I’d chop some more wood.”

  “There looks to be plenty outside the back door.”

  He shrugged. “It goes quick.”

  Caro watched his fingers make fast work of the buttons on the shearling coat. And though she tried not to, she recalled how those hands had felt caressing her through the robe.

  The door swung closed and his heavy footsteps echoed down the hall to the back entrance.

  Doreen frowned. “I wonder what’s happened?”

  A bite of coffee cake nearly caught in Caro’s throat. “Wh-what do you mean?”

  “There’s enough cut wood to see this place through till next spring.” The older woman shook her head. “No, something’s on his mind. Something more than …”

  She left the thought unfinished and resumed peeling potatoes. Caro stood and carried her dishes to the sink.

  “Are you sure I can’t help out with the meal preparations?” she asked, despite knowing the answer.

  “Positive. Go.” Doreen made a shooing motion. Even though the older woman smiled, Caro recognized a mother’s worry in the line that had formed between her brows.

  Movement caught her eye as she passed the big picture window that looked out from a small sitting room on the side of the inn.

  Jake stood amid huge piles of split wood. What appeared to be an entire forest’s worth of logs were stacked behind him. Dean was outside, too. Unlike his older brother, he held a mug of coffee instead of an ax, and the expression on his face was amused rather than fierce. As she watched, Jake placed a log on the flat surface of the tree stump that served as a chopping block. Feet planted shoulders’ width apart, he raised the ax high over his head, bringing it down with such force that Caro knew his mother was right. Something was on his mind. Despite his “no harm, no foul” speech, she had a good idea what it was.

  Through the window, she heard the crack of steel meeting wood. The log shuddered and split in two. Jake rested only a moment before selecting another piece and repeating the process. Dean, meanwhile, was sipping coffee and laughing. Caro frowned as guilt nipped her again.

  She should have been more forthcoming. She should have told him that legally she was still Caroline Franklin Wendell and would remain such.

  Till death do us part.

  Now it seemed more like a life sentence than a treasured promise. Still, for Cabot’s sake, she would honor her vows as best she could, especially the one about forsaking all others.

  Until yesterday, the two she’d figured would give her the most problems were to love and to cherish. But she hadn’t expected to meet Jake or to become so hopelessly attracted to him in so short a time. And she certainly hadn’t imagined that anything romantic would transpire between the pair of them, even as it became clear that the growing attraction she felt was mutual.

  As if Jake knew Caro was watching him, his gaze lifted from the log to her. Awareness shot through her like an electrical current as the moment stretched. She lifted one hand in what passed for a wave. Instead of lowering it afterward, however, she rested it against the cool glass. She might as well have been reaching for the unattainable. That’s what he was.

  “Hmm. What have we here?” Bonnie joined Caro at the window.

  Caro jerked her hand away. “Nothing!” At the other woman’s confused expression, she offered a nonchalant shrug. “They’re just chopping wood.”

  Bonnie let out a snort of laughter. “They aren’t chopping wood. Jake is. And, as usual, Dean is standing around watching.”

  She undid the latch and opened the window just wide enough to holler out, “Hey, hot stuff. Let’s see what you’ve got. Jake’s putting you to shame.”

  Dean set his coffee mug aside and took the ax from Jake, making a show of flexing his muscles first for his wife’s benefit. Bonnie giggled like a schoolgirl, even as she rolled her eyes.

  “He’s not nearly as buff as Jake. But I’ll keep him.”

  Caro swallowed. Not nearly as buff indeed.

  In no time at all a full-fledged competition was under way. The men had stripped off their heavy coats and Jake had shucked his sweater. They stood in their shirtsleeves, puffs of white breath offering proof of their exertion. Despite the freezing temperatures, their foreheads were dappled with sweat that glistened in the bright sun. Caro watched in fascination. Who knew men could look so sexy chopping wood? One man in particular.

  “Would you look at those fools,” Bonnie said. “By the time they’re done, there won’t be a tree standing in all of the Green Mountains.”

  Caro murmured in agreement even as she continued to admire Jake’s form with the ax.

  Bonnie offered an appreciative hum. “Still, I’ve got to admit it’s kind of a turn-on to watch.”

  It was definitely that. But this time, Caro didn’t make a sound. She merely stood at the window with her bottom lip caught between her teeth, damned by attraction and useless wishes.

  Bonnie rapped her knuckles on the glass, gaining both men’s attention before opening the window a second time.

  “In the name of saving the trees, I declare a tie between you two great big ol’ he-men.”

  Dean grinned wolfishly. “So, what’s my prize?”

  “I’ll show you later,” Bonnie teased with a throaty chuckle and a bob of her eyebrows.

  Jake’s gaze was on Caro. Even as he swiped his forearm over his brow, he never looked away.

  “What’s my prize?” he asked.

  She had nothing to give him, nothing that she was free to give, but that didn’t stop her heart from thumping foolishly.

  From the corner of her eye, she caught Bonnie’s speculative look. She had little doubt Dean sported a similar expression. Luckily, the children, who were bundled up in their snowsuits, bounded into view then, and all attention turned to them.

  Outside, Jake scooped the little boy up into his arms, much as he had the day before in the living room. Riley squealed with delight. Caro pictured Jake doing the same with Cabot. The image was so vivid and perfect it brought tears to her eyes. Truman wasn’t much for horseplay. Bedtime stories were more his thing. Like his mother, he preferred peace and quiet. Whereas Caro delighted in Cabot’s infectious laughter and unbridled enthusiasm.

  Blinking the moisture from her eyes, she murmured, “Jake’s really good with kids.”

  “The best. He would have made a great dad.”

  “Would have?”

  Bonnie cleared her throat. “I mean, he will be a great dad. You know, someday.”

  The woman’s flushed cheeks and g
uilty expression, however, told Caro that wasn’t what she’d meant at all.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WHAT’S MY PRIZE?

  He’d been foolish to ask the question, and even more foolish to be disappointed when Caro hadn’t answered it, Jake thought as he stacked the newly split wood.

  As usual, Dean was off playing with the kids, leaving him to do the work. He didn’t mind. He needed something to do to take his mind off Caro. Not that he was succeeding.

  Especially when he turned to find her striding through the snow in his direction. Now his labored breathing wasn’t all the result of physical exertion. She had on her fashionable waffle-print down parka, but she’d borrowed a hat and mittens, and had found more sensible footwear. Unless he missed his guess, those were his mother’s boots swallowing up her feet.

  “I was thinking about going back to my car. I’d love fresh clothes and to see if the main road has been cleared and a mechanic has been by.”

  “Are you planning to walk?”

  Her chin lifted. “If need be.”

  He smiled, perversely pleased with her reply. “I have a better idea.”

  Until this past winter, the inn’s old sleigh hadn’t been out of the barn in who knew how many years. Half a dozen at least, Jake had figured, gauging from the rust on the runners when he’d come across it in the fall. It was a good thing he’d fixed it up, including a haphazard patch job on the seat cushions, which had mainly been to keep the mice from making more nests. He decided not to mention that to Caro as he hitched up Bess.

  The harness bells jangled merrily.

  “I heard those through the storm yesterday. And then you were there, a man on horseback riding to my rescue.” She smiled at him.

  “You thought I was an angel,” he reminded her.

  “I thought I was dead.”

  Gruff laughter escaped. “Well, that explains it.”

  “Explains what?”

  “Why you thought I was heaven-sent. As I think you’ve figured out, I’m no angel.” Especially given the direction his thoughts kept trying to head.

  “But you are a hero.” Even as he shook his head to deny her words, she said, “You saved me, Jake.”

  “Right time, right place.”

  “Adds up to the same thing.” But she lightened her tone. “Who knew I’d owe my survival to a pair of feuding brothers?”

  “I guess Dean is useful for something after all.”

  Riley and Jillian rounded the corner of the inn. Apparently they’d heard the bells, too.

  “Uncle Jake! Uncle Jake! Can we go, too?” Jillian asked.

  His gaze settled on Caro, and though he knew he was playing with fire, he said, “Not this time.”

  “Pretty please,” Jillian pleaded while Riley clasped his hands together as if in prayer. Even as Jake smiled at their tactics, so similar to the ones he and Dean had employed in childhood, he held firm.

  “Next trip,” he promised. “Caro and I are going to see about her car.”

  “We won’t be gone long,” she assured them. “Go finish your snowman. By the time you’re putting on the carrot nose, we’ll be back. Then it will be your turn.”

  Despite their objections and bitter complaints, they complied.

  “Need help getting up on the seat?” Jake asked.

  “You mean I don’t get to sit in the back and burrow under a wool blanket?”

  He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  “I was kidding, Jake. And, yes, I do need some help getting up on that bench.”

  He came around behind her. Resting his hands on her waist was torture, pure and simple, which perhaps explained why, as soon as he was seated next to her, he blurted out, “So, why no divorce?”

  She turned to face him, clearly startled by the bald question.

  “I … I …” Her eyes narrowed then. “What does it matter to you? No harm, no foul, remember? It was just a kiss.”

  He gritted his teeth and slapped the reins. As Bess began to plod through the thick snow, he thought sourly that there was nothing quite as unpleasant as having his words thrown back in his face.

  But what he said was, “I’m curious is all. I was a cop, remember?”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  “For now,” he allowed. “So?”

  She stared straight ahead. “It’s complicated.”

  “It’s always complicated, Caro. I think, at the very least, you owe me some answers after last night.”

  Her cheeks turned pink. “Ask another question then.”

  “Okay, do you love him?”

  “You don’t pull any punches,” she muttered after blowing out a breath that turned white in the frigid air.

  “Well?”

  “No. I did once … or at least I thought I did. But now … after everything that’s happened, no.”

  That should have made Jake feel better, but it didn’t. It brought him back to his first question, which she’d already ducked. So, he asked instead, “What does he do for a living?”

  “He runs his family’s investment firm. It’s a Fortune 500 company. He’s been at the helm since his father died right after Truman graduated from college.”

  “Let me guess. Harvard?”

  “Yale, actually.”

  “Old money?”

  “Very. The Wendells trace their wealth back a good five generations, from what I’ve been told. Think railroads.”

  No wonder Caro had said her mother-in-law didn’t think she was good enough for her son. Even the average debutante would have trouble measuring up. He whistled between his teeth.

  “How did you meet him?”

  “At my job, interestingly enough. Every Wendell since the turn of the previous century has attended the academy where I worked. I already mentioned that his generous donation is responsible for the new science wing.”

  “And your loss of a counseling job that they promised to hold open for you.”

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, every spring they have an alumni dinner. The staff is invited and encouraged to attend. We mix and mingle, remind the guests of the school’s virtues and extol any new programs to ensure they continue to donate their money and that succeeding generations of their families continue to enroll. Truman was there.”

  “And you mixed and mingled.”

  “There was a little more to it than that, but yes. He dropped by the school the following Monday and asked me out.”

  “Did you feel pressured to date him?” He wanted her to say yes. But she shook her head.

  “No. In truth, I was flattered by his attention.”

  Jake glanced sideways in time to catch her frown.

  “And maybe I wondered a little why someone like him was interested in someone like me.”

  “That’s a no-brainer. Why wouldn’t he be? You’re beautiful, smart, sexy….” He let the adjectives trail away with his frozen breath and returned his attention to the snowy road.

  It was a moment before Caro continued.

  “Anyway, before I knew it, our courtship had begun in earnest. I wasn’t sure I was ready for such a serious relationship, but he was so attentive and thoughtful. He said all the right things. He made grand, romantic gestures. My friends and coworkers adored him and his determination to take care of me. When he proposed, saying yes seemed like the right decision. I wanted so desperately to have a family again. I was so … alone.”

  Jake closed his eyes as understanding dawned. “This was right after your parents died, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  When she’d needed time, Truman had pressed his advantage. She’d said the man could be manipulative. No doubt he’d found a grieving young woman easy to convince of her good fortune. Jake also knew from his years of police work that some men liked to feel as if they were a savior of sorts. Hell, some of the guys he knew had joined the force for that reason. It was a fine line to walk between wanting to help people and wanting them to be beholden to you. He’d bet his severanc
e that Truman fell into the latter category.

  “Things were okay between the two of us at first, good even,” Caro was saying. Her tone turned rueful when she added, “Especially when his mother wasn’t around, which unfortunately wasn’t often. But gradually he became more and more controlling. I passed it off as caring at first. But as my grief began to fade I found it irritating.

  “I started to wonder if I’d made a huge mistake, but then Cabot came along, and I was determined to try to make things work. Not only for my son, but for me. I didn’t want to fail at marriage.”

  “I know the feeling,” Jake said, thinking of how he’d tried to convince Miranda to go with him for counseling, and that was before he’d known she was pregnant. “What made you decide to leave him?”

  “It wasn’t one thing. It was a lot of little things that were made all the worse when his mother moved in with us.”

  He squinted at her sideways. “That couldn’t have been fun.”

  “No. Susan pretty much took over. And when I complained, Truman took her side.”

  “So, is she moving out?”

  Caro frowned. “My mother-in-law?”

  “Yeah. Is that why you agreed to go back to your husband?”

  Sleigh bells jingled in rhythm with Bess’s muffled hoofbeats. Overhead, a crow’s guttural cry rent the air. Still, Caro said nothing as she sat with her head bowed, studying her mittens.

  “Is this another one of those questions you don’t want to answer?” he said softly.

  “I’m going back because of my son.”

  Her head lifted and he saw the tears. They tracked down her cheeks, dripped from her chin. He wasn’t sure he understood their exact origin, but he knew he couldn’t stand to see her so destroyed.

  “Whoa!”

  The big horse stopped. Caro continued to cry.

  “It’s … it’s okay.” But her tears dripped unabated. “Hey, you don’t need to cry,” he said a little more gruffly than he’d intended, in part because he felt both helpless and like an ogre for pressing her to answer questions that obviously caused her such pain.

  As he had the night before, he wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her to him. She collapsed against his own battered heart.