Honor on the Cape

by M. K. Meredith

  His gut grew heavy with dread.

  “Calm down, man. Let’s see what’s going on.”

  Jay stepped toward her, but she stiffened. “Bean? What’s wrong?”

  She studied his face as if in pain. “I, uh…” She swallowed hard on the waver in her voice.

  “Let’s go talk in private.” Jay slid his hand up her arm.

  She eased away with a shake of her head. “No. I need to tell you here.” She waved toward Larkin and Claire to join them. “I’m afraid if we talk in private you’ll try to change my mind, making this harder than it already is.”

  The blood drained from Jay’s head and the roaring grew louder.

  Larkin and Claire stepped into the circle of friends with worried looks in their eyes.

  Blayne lifted her chin. The quiver in her lower lip told Jay the news was worse than he expected. “My da’s hurt. I’m leaving tomorrow, but I need to go home and pull myself together.”

  Both Larkin and Claire broke into a barrage of heated denial, but she shook her head until they stopped. “You guys. Come on. Don’t make this worse.” She looked at Larkin. “You’ve given me the greatest gift as a friend and opportunity as a business partner. And it kills me that I won’t see this sweet baby the day her face is first warmed by the sun.” She gently placed a hand on Larkin’s round belly.

  “You can’t be serious. What about the grand opening? I kept hoping we’d have more time or that you’d change your mind.” The pain in Larkin’s eyes was obvious and Jay could relate.

  “Larkin, you knew I was leaving.”

  What the fuck?

  His heart split in two and a pounding started slow and low in his skull building with each passing second of this new revelation. “What the hell do you mean, she knew you were leaving?”

  “I’d decided before you came to town. It was my plan all along. But then—”

  “When the hell were you going to tell me? What the fuck has this all been about, Blayne?” He’d never felt so much pain in his life, and he squeezed the engagement ring box so hard in his hand that the corner of it dug painfully into his palm. He welcomed the burn.

  “Jamie, I’d been trying to tell you. You know that I love you, but it’s my da.”

  He tried to reach for her again, but she stepped away. “Why the hell are you pulling away from me? If it’s something with your dad, let me help. We can do this together.”

  Tears welled in her eyes and his heart broke in another way. Her voice was thick with emotion and regret and something that sounded too much like good-bye. “I can’t let you touch me. If you do, I might not go. Can’t you see? This is killing me, but I have to go. He broke his hip and is having surgery in a few hours.”

  She swallowed hard. “And you can’t come with me. We hurt my da…no.” She swallowed and clarified. “That’s not fair. I. I hurt my da when I left home. I abandoned him and our family and broke the trust between us. I can’t go home to his side with you by mine. I don’t know when I’ll be back. And I can’t ask you to wait. I want to, but it wouldn’t be fair.” Her voice caught. She was hurting, but he was in agony.

  Shoving his fingers through his hair, he tried to subdue his panic. “This is crazy. This doesn’t have to be the end.”

  “But it does. If I go home, knowing you are waiting for me to return, I won’t be able to focus on helping him recover, helping him heal. I’ll always have one foot in the Atlantic ready to swim back to you.”

  She grabbed his arm, her eyes begging him to understand. “These past few days have been everything I’ve ever wanted. I wanted more time to explain but… My da, he deserves more than a half-assed attempt to help him and try to mend what I broke ten years ago.” She sniffed, her tears falling freely now.

  Her touch was more than he could bear, and he shook her from his arm.

  Larkin wrapped her arms around Blayne. Claire stood with her own wrapped around her middle as if she didn’t know what to do or how to help.

  Jay could relate. What the hell was happening?

  “I’ll wait. There is no rush. No pressure. Don’t you understand? I can’t lose you again.”

  She winced as if in pain. “I should never have moved here in the first place.”

  “That’s it? Your family calls and regardless of what we have together, you’re done. You’re leaving. Just like that?”

  “Jay, calm down.” Ryker grabbed his arm, but he yanked away.

  “It’s not just like that.” She shook her head. “I’ve been planning to return after the launch. Everything between us was unexpected and new. I’d hoped to have a chance to talk about it, figure it out, but it’s too late. Don’t you see? Every time we try, the world tells us we shouldn’t.”

  He ignored the tears running down her cheeks, they meant nothing in the face of reality.

  She was leaving him.

  It was everything he’d already done to her being thrown back at him, and irrational anger burned through his chest. “Was this your plan all along? Is this your payback?”

  Her eyes grew wide with shock. “What? Planned? I’d never—”

  Jay scoffed. “You’d never what? Lash out? Fight back? Make someone pay? That’s been your whole M.O. since we’ve met.”

  “I’ve grown up. Clearly, I can’t say that for all of us. This has nothing to do with you.”

  He yanked his hand from his coat pocket. That was the final straw and the truth of it all. Her life, her terms. None of it had anything to do with him. He’d fucked that up ten years ago when he left. Apparently, there was no going back. “Of course, the fuck not. It never does, does it? The truth of the matter is you don’t trust me…you don’t trust us. And you’re running away.”

  She lifted her chin. “No, I’m going to help my da. Running away is your job.”

  His mother stepped up to the group. “What is going on? You’re causing a commotion.”

  Jay ignored her and threw the engagement box at Blayne’s feet along with his fucking hopes and dreams and sorry-ass fool of a heart. “Sincerely, I hope your dad’s going to be okay. But if you can’t see that we could get through this together, that you can trust me to be there, there truly isn’t anything between us worth fighting for.”

  Chapter 18

  Blayne stood outside the home that was a part of her heart and soul. As she stared up at the sharply-peaked, thatched roof then down the more moderate slopes along each side to the stone that gave the true life to her home, she was hit by a wave of nostalgia for the night she’d had dinner with Jamie at his parent’s home.

  The thought of him made her ache, and she closed her eyes against the pain.

  Her father’s house was way more modest but had more character than any other she’d ever seen. It had been the home of his parents and his parent’s parents, passed down through the generations and unfailingly maintained with integrity and grace and honor.

  Honor.

  That word had haunted her for a decade. It was funny how so many words went in one ear and out the other, and then one came along that was more powerful than time, distance, or even love.

  The ivy he was so proud of was perfectly groomed and pristine.

  No one would ever guess that it had laid up her big, burly father inside.

  She’d arrived later than she’d planned due to weather and delays and general airport fun. And her father, being her father, had refused to stay in the hospital opting to recover at home with a visiting nurse.

  Typical Noah MacCaffrey. Stubborn, mule-headed, and he refused to listen to anyone.

  The awareness of the apple not falling far from the tree left her restless and on shaky legs. Not a good combination.

  “Are you going to just stand there staring or are we going to actually go in?” Emma tapped her bright pink high-top sneaker. Her skinny jeans were covered by a flowy white spaghetti strap tank top, and her brown curly hair was piled on top of her head.

  Blayne had always loved the sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her
little sister’s nose, but at the ripe old age of twenty-five they were beginning to fade. Her pink baby cheeks were now sculpted with a bit of bronzer, her once upon a time out of control brows now groomed to model perfection. Emma was quirky and artistic and as beautiful as ever.

  “I’m scared, Em.”

  Emma slid her arm through her sister’s. “I know. No one knows you’re here, but I’ll tell ya this. When da was comin’ outta surgery he asked for ya. Pissed Ruby off, it did.”

  Shit. Blayne could only imagine. And she didn’t blame Ruby. Their older sister had taken up to helping their da ever since losing their ma when Dylan was born. Having their da ask for Blayne after all Ruby had done for him probably hurt like hell.

  But she couldn’t lie. It gave her hope.

  “Okay, let’s go.” Emma led her through the front door.

  As soon as she stepped over the threshold, she was hit hard with memories, with a feeling. The taste and smell and sound of home.

  It was as if she were thrown back in time, losing all the lessons she’d learned, forgetting all the experiences she’d had, leaving her a vulnerable and stubborn eighteen-year-old. She raised her chin. She could do this.

  She wanted to run.

  With a self-conscious pat, she checked her cream necktie blouse, then made sure it was securely tucked into her navy blue high waisted trousers. It was now or never. Facing down mistakes didn’t have a good time.

  “Ya can do this.” Em gave her a smile.

  “Where’s Ruby and Dylan?”

  “Dylan has class. He’ll be home after. Ruby ran to the pub to grab some dinner. Let’s get you in to see Da before she gets home and starts yellin’.”

  Blayne’s heart pounded in her chest as if it were trying to jump free, leaving her light-headed and a little woozy. “I think I’m jet-lagged.”

  “Na, just terrified.”

  They quietly entered their father’s room. His large, four-poster bed still rested adjacent to the big arched window with the crosshatch design of the diamond window muntin, facing the back garden.

  He looked so peaceful that she hated to disturb him. His beard had grown white as had his brows, but they were both as thick and luxurious as ever. The Donegal tweed cabbie cap that always adorned his head was hanging from one of the posts on his bed.

  She smiled. He was never without his flat cap. When she was little, she always imagined him sleeping in it, but when she’d climb in with him to snuggle on an early morning weekend, his head would be bare of it. She was always so surprised to see he had so much hair.

  And there he was, almost just as she left him. Love burst through her chest at the sight of him. She’d missed him, but she’d never fully understood how much until he lay in front of her. All the years now behind her, wasted years without her da, burned her with shame and sadness. It hurt so much, she had to swallow the sob that threatened.

  His expression was so soft and peaceful, she hated to disturb him. With hesitation, she turned to leave, but Em stopped her with a firm shake of her freckled faced.

  Damn little sisters.

  Noah MacCaffrey had taught her to be strong and now was the time to show him she’d learned a thing or two when she’d been home.

  “Da. I’m home. It’s me, Blayne.” Her whisper carried across the quiet room as she moved next to him then lowered gently to the edge of his bed.

  His eyes blinked before he focused in on her. They were still the deep blue she remembered as a child but missing a bit of the spark her memory teased her with.

  His voice was rough with sleep and pain meds and trembled with disbelief. “Blayney?” Tears immediately filled his eyes.

  “Ya. It’s me, Da.” She was afraid to move, wanting to hug him but not sure if she had the right, not wanting to hurt him more or ever again. Her throat tightened, and her eyes stung. How had she ever left him?

  “I’d prayed and prayed, my girl. You’ve finally come home,” the gruffness in his voice deepened with emotion.

  “I didn’t think you wanted me here.” Her whisper barely slipped past her lips in her sorrow.

  He opened his arms, and she sunk into his big, burly chest just as she did when she was a little girl. The spice of his cologne wrapped her in a warm embrace along with his arms. He kissed the top of her head. With a hitch in his voice, he said, “Blayney, I never wanted ya to leave me in the first place. I hoped every day to see ya walk through the front door.”

  She couldn’t help the sob that escaped her chest, and her da’s arms wrapped around her tighter still. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

  “Shhh. None of that now.” He dragged a hand over her hair. “The blame isn’t yers to carry alone, Lass.”

  “But I said such awful things that I didn’t mean. I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered.

  “As did I. A pain I’ve carried in my heart since the day ya left.” He nudged her to look him in the eye. Cradling both cheeks, he said, “I’m sorry, too, Blayney. So, so sorry.”

  Regret tore through her with such force she broke down in her da’s arms. The kind of cry that said so much but made no sound. All the memories, time that was lost, Jamie, Larkin, losing her ma, and leaving her da crashed into her with the ferocity of the Atlantic Ocean against the lighthouse rocks in January.

  Either coast left her missing the ones she loved.

  Going home was everything and nothing. It was here and there, both far and near.

  But at least wherever she rested her head, she would know she was finding her honor once again.

  Blayne checked her text messages, but save for a few from Larkin, making sure she was safely on Irish soil, there was nothing there.

  And the fact that Jamie wasn’t pressuring her should leave her relieved and thankful that he respected her situation, but instead loneliness left a heavy weight in her chest. It was her decision, and the right one, but walking away from him had been excruciating.

  As obstacles go, the ocean now between them was nothing compared to the look in his eyes when he’d thrown the engagement ring box at her feet.

  Her heart had torn in two along with his, and it was all her own doing. If she’d have made better decisions years ago…

  But then she’d never known such love existed.

  She yanked her pruning gloves on a bit tighter then, with garden shears in hand, climbed the ladder to the thatched roof. The beautiful vine that mapped out a little life around their storybook home still needed to be groomed along the back of the house.

  While her dad slept, the least she could do was something productive, meaningful. And there wasn’t much as important to Noah MacCaffrey as his plants…except for his children. He’d always been a tending type of man. He tended his gardens, he’d tended to his wife, and he’d always tended to his children.

  When they were little, he’d play board games, or dolls, or have a tea party. Whatever their little hearts desired. He was there.

  And she’d repaid him by running away.

  She snipped a few wandering vines, careful not to take out her self-reflecting anger on the innocent plant, then wrapped others in a new direction to help manipulate the shape she wanted. She shoved the sleeves of her light jacket to her elbows. The sun was shining, and the sky was clear of any clouds. It was humid, but cooler compared to Cape Van Buren.

  She glanced around her childhood garden in Glengarriff. Tucked in the woods, but not far from the Atlantic, they were surrounded by a lush fairyland where leprechauns and wood nymphs played. Their home was the quintessential, thatched-roof, stone cottage that brought people to Ireland in the first place.

  The breeze off the Atlantic left her feeling a bit nostalgic, but instead of images of her running with her sisters over the little footbridge next to the house, she saw the brick roads of Cape Van Buren and the rocky shore of the coast. Her heart couldn’t separate the scent of the ocean breeze or the call of the seagulls just because she was now experiencing them from an opposite shore.

  Leaning jus
t enough to inspect her work, she slipped her shears in the pocket of the overalls she’d changed into and made it down to the ground. Everyone was inside, and though the reunion with her sister and brother had been awkward, she’d survived.

  She stepped through the large, wooden double doors from the back garden to find her da set up on the couch with pillows and blankets and his favorite beer.

  “Are ya allowed to drink on pain medication?” She threw him a side-eyed look.

  He waved in dismissal, taking a sip. “It’s a pint, that’s like mother’s milk.”

  Dylan brushed past her. “Great. She’s home less than a day and already trying to tell da what to do.”

  Her brother’s thick brogue washed over her with its beauty even though the words were anything but. He wasn’t too keen on her return, if his anger and distance toward her were any indications. But he didn’t really know her either. Not really. She left when he was ten. Just a boy. And now he’d turned into a beautiful man-stranger who didn’t seem too interested in seeing her again.

  Tension strung tight along the muscles in her neck. She’d hurt more than just her da.

  Ruby shot their brother a look. “Leave it.”

  No more, no less.

  Dylan muttered under his breath as he disappeared to his room.

  Blayne studied the serious tilt of her sister’s mouth, the severe, slicked-back ponytail of her cherry red hair that was just like their da’s own mother, and the determined fire in her eyes as if she had a mission and no time for anything else.

  There was something missing.

  Joy.

  The light that used to twinkle in her eyes as she chased them around the garden when they were little was gone. Instead, all that remained was resignation.

  “Come sit.” Her da patted the space next to him, and she settled in, careful not to disturb his hip.

  “How’s your pain? Are ya hurting? When does the nurse come?”

  His lips spread wide, making the whiskers of his beard ripple across his cheeks. “Why did you come home?”