by Liz Johnson
Natalie let out a disappointed groan but clamped her lips between her teeth.
Fine. She didn’t want to speak up. He would. “We talked about purple orchids, right?”
As he spoke, Lois turned back to the fridge and produced a stunning arrangement. Even a guy like him, who hadn’t been sure what an orchid was, could recognize the simple elegance in the way the greenery embraced the colorful flowers. It wasn’t too tall—something his sister had complained about at her best friend’s wedding. And it was just rustic enough not to feel out of place under the wooden arches of the barn.
“It’s perfect,” Natalie whispered.
“Good. I take cash or check. I usually ask for half now and half two weeks before the ceremony, but we’re only two weeks out, so we’d best settle it now.”
Natalie nodded and pulled her wallet out of her little purse, an array of colorful bills cascading on the table as she counted out Lois’s price.
As the woman pocketed the bills, the sagging skin above her eyes drooped even further. “So, your father’s back in town, eh?”
Natalie’s sudden stiffness nearly made Justin choke. Or it could have been Lois’s gall. She had no business bringing up Natalie’s parents. The little smirk on her face said she knew as much.
Natalie forced a strained smile, the edges of her lips pinching together. “I suppose so.”
“I thought he’d have a glass of wine with me, but he said he doesn’t drink anymore.”
Natalie’s face twitched, and Justin could guess how she wanted to respond. But instead of letting loose with a smart retort, her lips twisted into something akin to panic. The angle of her eyebrows matched the sinking in his stomach.
Lois either didn’t notice or didn’t care that this topic was clearly distasteful. “He going to be at the wedding? Is that why he’s back in town?”
“Umm …” Natalie tried for an answer but instead did a decent impression of a fish, her mouth opening and closing without much noise.
His hands itched to pull her close, to wipe that fear away. But that wasn’t part of his plan. That was clearly the opposite of his plan. So he made two fists and forced them to his sides. Except that made him want to punch something.
“He’s aged well. He always was so handsome.” Lois gave a wink that made bile rise at the back of his throat.
Nope. They didn’t need to stick around a minute longer.
Breaking his promise to himself, he grabbed Natalie’s trembling shoulders and pushed her toward the door. “We’ll see you on the day of the wedding. But we don’t need to see or hear from you before then.”
As the door snicked closed, he heard Lois’s appalled gasp. He was pretty sure his mom would hear about what a rude son she’d raised.
Well, so be it. He wasn’t about to subject Natalie to another minute of that tactless woman. Maybe she was simply clueless. That was the best he could say about her. But if not, she was careless and callous.
If anyone in this town deserved at least a modicum of civility, it was Natalie. Who was still shaking beneath his hands.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t know what got into me. I just couldn’t say anything.”
“It’s all right. You don’t have to apologize.”
She swallowed, and the sound echoed below the branches of the big elm tree in Lois’s lawn. “Thank you.”
He had slid his hands down to her elbows and back up before he realized he was still touching her. Quickly pulling back, he nodded. “Always.”
The sudden pink in her cheeks was his first clue that he’d misspoken. That he’d brought them back to a time when he’d had always to promise her.
But now she was about to promise her always to someone else. Someone who would take her away from this town and spare her the gossip of the idle. Someone who didn’t come home smelling like ornery cows. Someone who would provide her with everything she’d ever been denied as a child.
She deserved someone like Russell.
A voice in his head began a slow chant. Now. Do it now. Tell her now.
Great. Now he was the one shaking, his hands trembling so violently that he shoved them in the pockets of his jeans. Forcing himself to stand still, he stared at the ground. This wasn’t the right time or place.
But there would never be a right time or place. There were only moments he did what he knew he should. What he knew was best for Natalie.
If Natalie noticed the tick in his jaw or the way he couldn’t make eye contact, she kindly left it unmentioned. Instead she gave a low, humorless snort. “I don’t know why everyone is so eager to talk about my dad.”
Do it. Tell her.
“He’s been gone a long time.”
“I know. But why would I want to hear about him?” She tugged on her ponytail, the fire in her curls refusing to be subdued in the shade of the tree. Every trickle of light through the leaves caught a strand and made it glow warm and rich.
Do it. Tell her.
Sucking in a quick breath, he steeled himself for her response. Whatever it was, he was going to hate it. “I think you should talk to him.”
Her long hair whipped over her shoulder like he’d struck her. “Who? My dad? Why would I do that?”
“Because he came home to see you.”
“I have nothing to say to him.” Her voice rose, and he wondered if Lois was pressed to the shed window watching, listening. If so, she was about to have a story to tell. “I can never forgive him. He did nothing while she made my life miserable.”
He bowed his head and tugged at the back of his neck. “I know it’s hard. I’m not saying it’s easy. But … well, you forgave me, right?”
He looked up just in time to see a flash in her eyes that made him wonder if she was going to disagree with him. He’d thought she’d forgiven him. Things had certainly changed between them. They didn’t yell at each other or accuse the other of purposeful heartbreak.
He’d figured that somewhere between that first tour of the barn and Marie’s trip to the ER, she’d found a way to let go of the past.
He had.
After a long pause, she nodded. “But it’s different with you. We both had a hand in all that. And you weren’t trying to hurt me. You needed to be here for your mom.”
“True. But forgiveness is forgiveness, right?”
“Wrong.” Her words were like iron. “What you did, you did for someone else. What my dad did, he did out of selfishness.”
“I know.” He tried to keep his tone gentle, his words soft. She was as skittish as a newborn calf, but it was too late to back down now. “Maybe he has something you should hear.”
“Why would I want to hear anything he has to say?” Her snap was sharper than the crack of a whip, and she scrunched her face and balled her fists in front of her, a defense against the tears already leaking out of the pinched corners of her eyes. “He doesn’t deserve my time.”
“I didn’t say he did. But I think maybe you need to hear him out as much as he needs to talk to you.”
When she opened her eyes, their blue turned liquid. With a trembling lip, she took several small steps away from him. “I thought you understood. B-b-but you d-d-don’t know me at all.”
Her words knocked the breath out of him, leaving him stunned and alone.
17
Go to the antique store,’ she said. ‘It’ll be an adventure,’ she said.” Natalie traipsed down yet another aisle of useless knickknacks. “‘Find something for the cake table,’ she said. ‘It’ll be easy,’ she said.”
“Can I help you find something, honey?”
Natalie jumped, her cheeks instantly flaming as she wondered how much of her grumbling Aretha had heard, but the older woman said nothing more. She simply stood with her hands clasped in front of her, swaying to the sound of the bells on the closing door.
“Oh, um … hi, Aretha.”
“Did Marie send you? She told me she was going to try to stop by, but I haven’t seen her this week.”
Natalie, on the other hand, had been wandering the store for twenty minutes, unable to focus on anything except the repeat that had been playing in her mind for three days. Maybe you need to hear him out as much as he needs to talk to you.
Over and over Justin’s words wandered through her, only pausing when she managed to snatch a moment of sleep. Not that she’d gotten much of that.
She didn’t want to think about her dad, much less talk with him. So what if he’d sought her out? That didn’t mean she was obligated. No matter what Justin said, she did not need to hear whatever he had to say. She owed him exactly what he’d given her. Neglect and absence.
Justin should know that. He of all the people in her life should understand.
Yes, she’d forgiven Justin. That had been unexpected but natural. Because he cared. But if he did, why would he push her to make nice with her dad? That was just another performance, and he was all about authenticity, right?
As she pictured his face and felt the urgency in his words once again, she balled her fists and jabbed them onto her hips. She wasn’t going to be talked into anything she didn’t want.
And what she wanted right now was to marry Russell and leave this island without giving Lois or Stella or any of the other old gossips one more thing to talk about.
Suddenly Natalie realized that the silence had been dragging on between her and Aretha for an awkwardly long moment, and she turned so she could look Aretha directly in the eyes. “I need the perfect wedding. Can you help me?”
Aretha’s faded eyes danced as she patted her curls into place. “Well, let’s see what we can do. How much of PE Island do you want?”
“Just enough.”
Aretha nodded firmly, waved her hand over her shoulder, and led the way down a side row. Big wooden bookcases lined the path, their shelves stacked high with leather-bound books and navigational tools and toys from centuries gone by. An old spinning wheel stuck into the lane, but Aretha marched around it without glancing down. They passed a secretary desk with a rolltop and a row of ships in glass bottles.
When they finally stopped, Aretha pointed to a lantern, its glass panels colored by time, its iron framework sturdy and free of rust.
“The island is all about lights and gentle shores.”
Images of her childhood spent playing in Justin’s lighthouse, skipping across the sandy beach, and running into the rolling waves flashed through her mind. “I guess you’re right.”
“’Course I’m right.” With a Cheshire grin, she picked up the lantern and plopped it into Natalie’s arms. It was surprisingly heavy, and Natalie nearly dropped it, bobbling it for a second before Aretha gave her a firm look that seemed to say she’d have to buy whatever she broke. “I’ve lived here my whole life, and we won’t talk about just how long that might be.”
Natalie giggled. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I think every table ought to have some sort of light.” She picked up a kerosene lamp. Its wick was tattered and the base was in need of a dose of silver polish, but the glass chimney rested in place, clear and beautiful. “If the lamps don’t work, we’ll put a candle in each.”
“It’s … perfect. How did you ever come up with such an idea?”
“Oh, I wish I could take all the credit, but that sweet Marie has been teaching me a thing or two. You know she decorated the entire inn by herself.”
Actually, no, she hadn’t known that. But it made sense. The way Marie chose the color of the stain for the barn and talked about patterns for the tablecloths, the thought that she put into each table setting at the inn—she loved those little details that made the inn a home away from home. Natalie’s home back home.
“But what about the shore? We have light but no shore.”
“Well, I had an idea about that. The tables will be full. Lights and orchids, I hear.”
A sudden ache behind her right eye made her squint. “Where’d you hear about the orchids?”
Aretha’s cheeks turned pink, rivaling the bright shade of her lipstick. As always, people inevitably let it slip that they’d been talking about her and showed appropriate embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have … That wasn’t very thoughtful of me.”
Here she was, the topic of town gossip again. Maybe she should expect it. After all, her wedding guests had booked all the rooms in town and would probably fill Grady’s and every other eating establishment within a ten-mile radius for a few days. The wedding was big business in this small town.
But it wasn’t easy to let go of half a lifetime of hearing her family’s name bandied about.
At least she was close to being free. She just had to get to the wedding. Get it done. Then she could leave. And then no one would talk about her.
No one in Nashville even noticed her. Among the uber talented and stunningly beautiful, she blended easily into the background. Exactly where she wanted to be.
But not here. Never here.
“Was Lois talking about me?”
“No. It wasn’t Lois.” Aretha set two more antique lamps on the counter beside the cash register before meeting Natalie’s gaze. Her shoulders drooped, and the grin she so often wore had disappeared. “I was talking with Kathleen. She told me that you and Justin have been spending a lot of time together.”
She half expected a teasing lilt to Aretha’s island accent, but no matter how hard she listened, it wasn’t there. There was no innuendo woven into the words or knowing wink to accompany them. There was only the fact. They had been spending a lot of time together. And then avoiding each other. And then spending more time together.
“Kathleen was worried when Justin came home upset the other day.”
A little voice in her head told her to run. This wasn’t information she needed or should even be privy to. She didn’t listen to fabricated stories. She didn’t care what Mama Kane had said. But still she asked, “Oh?”
“She was worried that you’d had an argument.”
It took everything inside her to keep her face impassive, unresponsive.
“He said that Lois had been terrible to you.”
Her breath came out at once, her mind playing fill-in-the-blank. What else had Justin had said? Had he told his mom how terrible she’d been? How she’d lashed out when he pushed about her dad?
Aretha pulled the lantern from her arms, set it on the counter, and grabbed both of her hands. “I understand he was pretty upset.”
That shouldn’t make her feel better. But it warmed her chest like one of these kerosene lamps being turned all the way up.
Aretha squeezed her fingers, her skin silky but thin. “He told his mom he’d start a boycott of Lois’s shop after the way she spoke to you.”
“That’s ridiculous.” She huffed something that sounded like a laugh but felt more like a sob. “She’s the only florist in town. And she’s good.”
“Honey, I know it wasn’t easy for you.” Aretha’s gaze grew more intense, the pressure of her grip increasing. “I know you heard the rumors and all the talk. But it’s not ridiculous that someone would stand up for you and defend you. Justin’s only saying what so many of us feel—have always felt.”
Then why hadn’t they done something?
The question bounced against the pressure behind her eye, its ache drawing tears she hadn’t expected or wanted.
All she really wanted was to be done with this place. Done with the memories. Done with the pain. But as long as she remained on the island, they were hungry hounds.
Her limbs twitched, her stomach rolling. She ripped her hands free and rushed for the door, nearly running into a couple on their way in.
“I’ll send someone for the lamps.” She threw it over her shoulder, hoping that Aretha would save
them, but not able to stay if she didn’t. “All of them.” She ducked outside.
The midday sun was too bright. It shone like a spotlight, highlighting all of her faults and fears, and she spun, searching for a safe place to hide.
Instead, she stumbled into a steady body, and two hands rested on her shoulders.
“Whoa there. Are you all right?”
Oh, she knew that voice. As she jerked away from her father’s grasp, she wanted to wipe that smug look off his face, so she lashed out with her only weapon. “You don’t care one way or the other. And you never did.” With that, she spun and marched down the street toward the diner. Maybe Harrison could give her a safe haven.
But the footsteps behind her followed. “Natalie. Please. Won’t you talk to me?”
“No. I’m not interested in anything you have to say.”
But Justin’s words rang through her again. Maybe, just maybe, if she did talk with her dad—and that was a big if—it could help her. Maybe she could close that chapter in her life for good.
If she didn’t, he might shadow her forever.
She slowed as she reached the big glass panes of Grady’s, and a glance inside told her that the ladies’ auxiliary was enjoying a midday meal, with Stella at the head of the table.
Perfect. There would be no sanctuary there today.
As she moved to stride across the street, her dad grabbed her elbow, his grip firm but not painful. “I owe you an apology, Natalie Joy.”
“Don’t.” She wasn’t entirely sure if she was responding to his use of her middle name or the fact that he was attempting to smooth over his sins. Which were too many to enumerate and far too many to sweep under the rug.
“Please.” He tugged on his earlobe, which hung lower than she remembered. Not that she’d spent a lot of time thinking about what he looked like. In fact, she’d spent a whole lot of time purposefully not thinking about him at all.
“I don’t want to do this. Not here. Not with the entire population of the Crick trying to get a look at us through Grady’s window. And definitely not so close to my wedding.” She crossed her arms. Then uncrossed them. Then searched for her pockets.
