Love, Honor & Cherish: The On the Cape Trilogy: A Cape Van Buren Trilogy

by Meredith, MK

  Puzzle weaved his warm little body around her ankles and purred. “Hey there, buddy.” She picked up the cat and nuzzled his neck, comforted by his soft warmth.

  She wrapped her hand around the knob and turned it.

  As the door opened on silent hinges, her heart paused. The sun shone through his window, dust fairies dancing about in the rays. His bed was still covered in his favorite dinosaur and puppy stuffed animals. A picture of her, John, and Archer sat at an angle on his bedside table.

  She hadn’t been able to change a thing.

  It was different with John’s belongings. She’d been numb with grief and unable to look at his things without feelings of hate, which shamed her, so she’d packed his things and shipped them off to his mother shortly after the funeral.

  But her baby boy’s possessions remained exactly the way she’d left them the morning they’d gone to visit Maxine.

  How many times had her family and friends encouraged her to go through his room and donate his toys and books? She couldn’t begin to count. And her answer was always a swift and solid no.

  On particularly lonely nights, like last night after she’d left Ryker, she’d lay in her little boy’s bed and let the memories of his smile wash over her. She used to lie with him when he was scared or not feeling well. She’d patiently sit and wait while he struggled to pull on his sweater because he could do it all by himself. Not to mention all the times she’d reorganized his shelves filled with puzzles based on size only to have him reorganize them based on whatever mattered to his little brain.

  She moved into the room, letting her fingers trail along the surface of his dresser, his shelves, the foot of his bed, then sunk down to the mattress.

  Puzzle crawled from her lap, making himself at home on Archer’s pillow.

  Her chest was heavy and she tried to pull air in past the constriction in her throat. The pain never seemed easier, only more and more familiar.

  Last night had been particularly difficult. When she’d left Ryker, they were both in a weird and somber mood. It was as if they both dreaded facing the night alone but had no choice. She couldn’t stay and he didn’t ask her.

  His demand for her to say she needed him had torn at her heart. Not only for the pain she recognized in his, but for the pain the admission would bring to her own. Needing him made what she had to do all the more difficult. Wanting him was fine, desiring him was natural, needing him and still going after his home was impossible. The constant guilt of fighting him for what was rightfully his exhausted her and tore at her in a way she’d never considered.

  But she hadn’t considered she’d ever fall in love either.

  Archer’s lighthouse puzzle from Maxine caught her eye and she scooted from the bed to sit cross-legged on the floor. Pulling the box down from a shelf, she studied the front cover then dumped the pieces in front of her.

  Piece by piece, she established the border. The day Maxine had given him the gift, he’d hollered in delight and zoomed around the grounds like an airplane before finally settling in his surrogate grandmother’s lap to get to work.

  “Today’s the day, Archer. I’m going to the courthouse to meet the Judge save the Cape,” she whispered.

  Silence rang in her ears as she continued to piece the puzzle together. As she snapped the final shape into place, a light wash of goosebumps lit across her shoulders. She peered closer at the final picture.

  It had been taken from the well, and up in the middle window was Archer with his hand in the air, waving. She could just barely see his features under his shock of blond hair, his sparkling eyes and his mischievous grin.

  She was doing the right thing. The Cape was bigger than her pain, bigger than Ryker’s. It held the potential of helping the whole community. And she had to save it since she couldn’t save her son.

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  Seagulls squawked outside, pulling her attention to Archer’s window. The front of her house faced the North Cove. Just down the road from The Hideaway and Stay Inn, she was one of only a few houses along the shore.

  The lighthouse was visible off in the distance. Archer loved to watch it when Mr. Stull would test the lamp. She followed the curve of the Cape until her eyes rested on the large Victorian house, but then the open space closed up with the north edge of woods that created one side of a horseshoe of trees that covered the Cape going toward town.

  She couldn’t see the well, and for a moment, a streak of fear sliced through her chest. Rolling her shoulders back, she tried to shake it off. Nothing was going to happen to the well; nothing was going to happen to the Cape.

  She’d see to it.

  Pushing up from the floor, she brushed at her suit then buttoned her jacket. Her computer with her presentation was ready to go on the dining table, her printouts of pertinent information outlining the endangered species found, the rare plants, everything that proved the Cape should be preserved.

  The time was now…because never was not an option.

  On the way to town, she focused on the sun shining in a pattern of speckles through the trees and thought of the victory dinner she’d planned with her mom and dad at Delizioso’s. She could already taste their homemade tiramisu.

  As she made her way across the courthouse parking lot, the top of the large pine tree by the town library shook gently. She could only guess at how many children were hiding up in that thing, laughter and screams riding on the breeze from the playground on the other side.

  Over in the square, the slate-colored canopy of the Fountain of Youth center stage hid the spraying water that was splashing in the comforting and constant rhythm familiar to anyone from Cape Van Buren. If there was ever a sign of potential, it was the Fountain of Youth. Legend had it that explorers had scoured the Northeast coast, searching for the magical healing waters found there.

  She grinned, her heart bursting with possibility.

  She loved this town. She loved the coastal, old-world feel of the weathered brick buildings, wrought iron, rope, and wood. She loved seeing the ocean from different points in town, the Cape’s lighthouse from others, and the Fountain of Youth from just about anywhere.

  It was all connected. They were all connected and her plans for the Cape would only continue to foster that beautiful, unified link between the town and the people.

  The courthouse had the hushed vibration of a church, leaving her nerves thrumming and her self-confidence a bit shaky.

  “Ms. Sinclair? Judge Carter’s ready for you.”

  Larkin followed the young woman into the judge's chambers, immediately put on guard by the way Judge Carter’s brows pulled together as she walked in. Pulling from every ounce of faith in her heart, she lifted her chin and gave him her brightest smile.

  “Good afternoon, Judge Carter.” She reached her hand across his desk to shake his hand.

  “Please, sit down, Larkin. You know you don’t have to be so formal with me. Maxine’s going to have my ass as it is without making you follow all the pomp and circumstance of the courthouse. You should have met me at DEP.”

  Dread pooled in her stomach as she stared at the judge. He wouldn’t quite meet her eyes, but shifted his gaze about his desk and office.

  “I’m not getting it, am I?” Her stomach twisted.

  He grabbed a stack of papers from his desk, tapping them straight then setting them back down. “Ryker has a sharp team. Not only did they come in with some additional rather brilliant ideas on preserving some of the most protected attributes of the estate, such as the bee colony, but they also found a bylaw that actually grandfathers the Cape from ever being handed over to the state.”

  A low buzzing grew in her head and she lowered to the tufted leather chair. Her fingers went numb, breathing hurt her chest. She gave her head a small shake. “When?” She was just with Ryker a few days earlier, had told him she was submitting her work. He never let on about his findings.

  And why would he? Business was his priority. He had the same rights she did
to fight for the Cape. He’d just done it better. Hell, he had a team of experts for this exact reason.

  All the work she’d done had been for nothing. Pain squeezed through her body and a lump rose in her throat.

  She’d promised to save the Cape for Archer but once again she was powerless to save what she loved. What he’d loved.

  Thanking the judge, she hurried from the courthouse to her car, fighting for composure.

  It couldn’t be over. There had to be something she could do.

  She needed to talk to Ryker, tell him her plans. Maybe if she laid out her whole vision, he could see what she was trying to do. What they could do together.

  Because now that she was hurting, he was who she was running to. He was who she wanted to see, who she wanted to share her pain and disappointment with. Somehow, he’d become her lighthouse, her safety in the storm. She loved him and they made a formidable team.

  She had to believe he felt the same.

  * * *

  Slamming her brakes hard, Larkin skidded to a stop in the roundabout in front of the house. Construction trucks were everywhere with the crews already staking out boundary lines and marker flags for water and electricity.

  She searched the men for the one who could turn this day around, who could make it all right. Ryker’s dark head was bent over a large land map just as it was that fateful day she’d learned of his plans. Exiting her car, she threw the door shut then ran toward him. Once she hit the grass, her heels sunk into the soft earth so she ditched her shoes and closed the distance in her bare feet.

  “Ryker!”

  He looked up then glanced at his men, saying something. They nodded and stepped away.

  His eyes skimmed over her, settling on her face. “You heard the news.”

  She swallowed hard at the site of the large backhoe a few yards from the well. A large orange X was painted on the bottom of a neighboring tree.

  Archer used to climb that tree.

  “Please. Wait. Can we talk? If I can explain my plan…” She shoved her hands out, palms up to prove she wasn’t hiding anything.

  A flash of regret shone from his eyes but he slowly shook his head, his brows furrowed. “I don’t think you should be out here right now. I know this is hard.”

  “Did you know? When I was here? Is that where your show of affection came from? Your guilt?” Her tone rose in accusation.

  “Don’t do that. We both accepted from the beginning that we had to do what we had to do. You were trying to make the Cape your own. But it was already mine.”

  “No.” She cut her hand through the air. “Not my own. The town’s. I want to preserve the beauty that is here, use the Cape to educate and unite the people more than ever before. Allow people to really live, to really experience what this place has to offer.”

  His gaze darkened, like billowing clouds blotting out the moon. Treading lightly was paramount. He’d suffered deeply as a child, but the Cape wasn’t the cause, his horrible father had been. Her eyes darted to the well and back. She couldn’t lose the Cape. She couldn’t lose the only connection she had with her little boy. Tears pushed at her lids as panic clawed its way up her throat.

  Ryker looked at her with eyes full of pity as she gripped her hands at her sides against the pain of it all. “Larkin, you’ve barely begun living yourself. How do you think you can inspire others to do so?”

  She flinched at his words, taken aback by the bluntness of it all.

  “You’re holding on to memories, holding on to the past, instead of living and moving forward.”

  Maxine’s car pulled up, and she and Blayne got out, hurrying toward them. Larkin barely spared them a glance. News traveled fast in Cape Van Buren.

  She held his dark gaze, as painful as it was.

  The backhoe beeped a back-up warning and she glanced at it, distracted as she spoke. “That’s rich, coming from you.” Pain squeezed her chest. “I might be living in my past, but you refuse to deal with yours. You’re bent on destroying everything that was good about it because you are so tightly holding onto your anger.”

  The backhoe continued to move, inching closer to the well. Surely, they’d see they were getting too close.

  Ryker responded but she didn’t hear him.

  The backhoe wasn’t stopping.

  “Ryker.” She tried to get him to stop talking, to shut up about strength and intent, but all she could focus on was the awful beeping and the distance closing between the backhoe and the well.

  “Ryker, wait! Please, listen to me.” She stepped closer, trying to get his attention, but he was ticking items off his fingers, not realizing what was happening right behind his back.

  Both Maxine and Blayne hurried forward, and his grandmother called out, “Ryker stop them.”

  “Ryker!” Larkin yelled, and she grabbed him by the arms, giving him a shove just as the backhoe jerked back once again, crashing into the stone, making a sickening sound of brick raining down into the water below.

  Ryker spun around.

  Larkin fell to her knees on a cry. Every memory of Archer rushing through her mind like a flash flood of wishes and laughter, bright hazel eyes and dimpled grins.

  It was over.

  It was all over.

  The well was destroyed, the Cape was Ryker’s, her boy was dead. Every crushing reality crashed over her like the rocks to the bottom of the well.

  She tried to pull in a breath but her lungs burned and refused to open. Blayne dropped beside her, pulling Larkin into her chest. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Ryker turned back, his face ashen, and hurried to Larkin’s side. “I didn’t know.”

  He reached for her but she jerked back, stumbling to her feet.

  “No. Don’t touch me.” Her voice was shaking but clear. “You destroy everything you touch. You’ve destroyed everything that could be good, that would be good for you, for me, because you’re bent on avenging the little boy who grew up here with so much pain and terror.” She swiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks. “But you missed the idea that it may have already been avenged. That balance had been restored through the joy and love and power that another little boy did experience here.” She spoke through her tears, her voice thick, her throat burning.

  She backed away from the ruin of the well, the destruction of her memories. She backed away from Ryker, she backed away from Maxine, and even Blayne. Shaking her head, she swallowed hard. “It was never the Cape, but your father who was to blame. You just refused to see it because deep down you’re still afraid of him.”

  She moved away from the crowd. The urgency to hide, to be as far away from everyone as possible, was strong but she could barely breathe, barely think.

  “Larkin, wait. Please, don’t go.”

  She paused, looking over her shoulder. Ryker stood with one foot stepping forward as if wanting to go to her, but afraid to touch her again.

  She turned away. “There’s nothing left for me here.”

  Blinded by tears, she made her way to her car. Tugging on the door, she dropped her keys with a curse as Blayne stepped beside her, carrying her shoes. “You can’t drive.”

  “No one is ever going to tell me what I can and can’t do again.”

  Blayne flinched but picked up the keys nonetheless. “Get in the car. You’re in no condition to drive.”

  But Larkin was frozen. She couldn’t step forward, couldn’t step back.

  Blayne’s arms came around her and she gently guided her to the passenger side of the car. She sat and the door closed, leaving her in a silent vacuum of despair.

  The absoluteness of her new reality slammed like the bricks of the well against her chest.

  She’d failed.

  She’d failed her son, not once but twice. She’d failed the town. She failed the animals and plants that could only find home on the cape.

  Blinking through her tears, she heard the echo of the awful things she’d said to Ryker.

  She’d failed the little boy
who lived within him, too, because she hadn’t reached him, hadn’t been able to make him see.

  The Cape would be gone.

  The well was gone.

  In a panic, she lowered her window and concentrated hard to hear Archer’s voice through the treetops or his laughter on the wind chimes.

  Silence.

  And that was most excruciating of all.

  Archer was gone, too.

  * * *

  “What have you done?” Maxine whispered, looking at the crushed well with a look of horror.

  A heavy band of regret and self-recrimination tightened in Ryker’s chest, and a low, steady pounding rocked through his head. The well was never supposed to have been touched. It was going to be a focal point of the community. He’d even planned to have it dedicated to Archer as a special gift to Larkin.

  The look on her face had crushed him in a way that stole his breath and slayed his soul.

  He blinked at his grandmother, trying to pull himself together.

  The driver of the backhoe kicked a few bricks out of the rubble.

  Out of nowhere, Ryker roared, “LEAVE IT!” surprising everyone, including himself.

  The driver lifted his hands in front of his chest in a sign of surrender and slinked away.

  Ryker circled the well, stepping over broken bricks and mortar. The peaked wooden roof lay in pieces with a rope hanging limply from one rod. The bucket was nowhere in sight. The flowers that circled the base lay crushed beneath the bricks. It was destroyed.

  Rubbing a hand over his face, he studied the rubble. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. He’d had a plan. A plan that would have righted all the wrongs, that would have brought beauty and opportunity to the whole town of Cape Van Buren.

  He was a fool for letting himself get so close to Larkin. Not only because of the untenable situation between them, but because they both had wounds that ran too deep, too raw. He wasn’t good for her, and she wasn’t good for him.

  She made him want things that his heart didn’t have the capacity to withstand.

  And once he was good and well sold on the idea that just maybe they could have a future together, she crushed the dream with one inarguable declaration. “There’s nothing left for me here.”