by Lisa Carter
On Thursday, while waiting for Weston to drop off Izzie at the institute, Caroline fussed with a stray tendril of hair that refused to stay in place. This was such a mistake. What was she doing taking a child shopping? What was she doing accepting dinner invites from a man who made her heart beat in triple time?
This was insane. She ought to pick up her phone right now and—
“Don’t you look nice?” From her office doorway, Roland’s eyes twinkled. “No ponytail or turtle T-shirt today. Got a date, huh?”
She lifted her chin. “Absolutely not. I’m taking a little girl shopping.”
Roland leaned against the doorframe. “That little girl wouldn’t be Weston Clark’s daughter, would it?” He laughed. “No wonder you ditched the jeans and flip-flops.”
She pursed her lips and gave him a haughty look. “This is not because of Weston Clark.”
Roland crossed his arms. “Don’t overthink this, Caroline. Be open to the possibilities. Just enjoy yourself.”
She focused on rolling her white shirtsleeves over the cuffs of the brown cardigan. “I had a project meeting with the county commissioners this morning about a tract of land for the proposed rescue center.” Adjusting her bracelets, Caroline sniffed. “There was no time to change afterward.”
Roland cut his eyes out the window overlooking the VIMS parking lot. “Whatever you say, Dr. Duer.” He smirked. “And I think your date is here.”
“He’s not my— Oh.”
The little red-haired girl charged across the parking lot toward the entrance. Izzie’s father, Caroline couldn’t help noticing, wasn’t moving so quickly. He probably already regretted asking her to dinner. Probably trying to devise a way to renege his offer.
“I’d say break a leg, but with those spiky brown heels you’re wearing, you might anyway.”
Grabbing her purse off the chair, she brushed past the grinning Roland and hurried down the hall toward the lobby.
Caroline didn’t renege. When she made a promise, she kept it. But she also couldn’t help sneaking a quick look at her makeup as she approached the glass-fronted door.
Izzie flung open the door. Arms outstretched, she barreled into Caroline and entwined her arms around Caroline’s waist. Thrown off balance, Caroline rocked back a step to regain her equilibrium. Weston caught Caroline’s elbow to steady them both.
When his hand touched her arm, her pulse jumpstarted. Tingles like ladybugs frolicking across her skin. And with the appreciative gleam in his eye, she was glad she’d taken extra pains with her clothes this morning.
Izzie yanked Caroline toward the exit. His hand fell away. And Caroline immediately missed its warmth on her arm.
“Bye, Daddy.”
His brow creased. “Are you ditching your old dad so soon?”
Caroline teetered and put the brakes on Izzie’s momentum. “I’m taking Izzie to Onancock to a new boutique. Don’t worry about fixing dinner for me, but I promise I’ll have her home by—”
“Are you dumping my dinner plans?”
She played with the swaying golden hoop on her earlobe. “More like letting you off the hook. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do than—”
“Izzie and I have to eat, don’t we?” he growled.
Why did Weston Clark take everything she said the wrong way? She was only thinking of him—and that was the understatement of the decade. All she’d done all day was think of him.
And her. Eating dinner. Together.
She’d spent the better part of four days trying to erase thoughts of him from her brain. In vain.
“You’ve got to eat, too.” He scowled. “It’s not a big deal.”
She was making way more out of this than Weston intended.
Izzie pulled her toward the door. “Come on, Caroline… We’re burning daylight.”
Caroline’s lips twitched.
His expression eased. “Stores close and sidewalks roll up around here come 6:00 p.m. in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Roger that, Commander.” She gave him a mock salute. “I’ll have Seaman Clark home before then.”
“And you’ll stay for dinner?”
She gave him a sideways glance and twined that unruly strand of hair around her finger. “I’ll stay.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Good.” He angled toward his daughter. “You’ve got the money I gave you?”
Izzie nodded.
He sighed. “Have a fun time, Monkey Girl. And you, too, Turtle Lady. Try not to buy out the store.”
The turtle lady’s lips curved. “Affirmative. You have yourself a good afternoon, too.”
“Caroline…” Izzie tugged.
She allowed herself to be propelled out the door. And cast a swift look over her shoulder to Weston still standing at the entrance. A forlorn expression flittered across his countenance. As if he hadn’t wanted to be left behind.
Her imagination, she decided. Time to himself for a single dad was probably a rare commodity. Like shopping with little girls was a rarity in Caroline’s life. So she promised herself to enjoy this opportunity to the utmost.
On the road, she glanced in the rearview mirror to Izzie, buckled in the backseat. “I think any shopping expedition should begin with chocolate. How about we stop at Scoops and get a milk shake?”
Milk shakes, she had on good authority from Amelia, were less messy than cones.
The little girl’s face shone. “I’m so happy I could bust, Caroline.”
It had been a long time since her presence had made anyone happy. A numbed part of Caroline’s heart unfurled. Like the apple-green leaves on the willow tree by the creek in spring after a dreadful winter.
“Me, too, Ladybug.” She blinked away the moisture in her eyes. “Me, too.”
*
Weston found himself listening to one of Izzie’s CDs in the truck on the way home from Wachapreague. Because without his chatterbox daughter, he couldn’t stand the quiet. The afternoon yawned ahead of him. So with time heavy on his hands, on impulse he allowed himself to be sidetracked by the idea of a Long John and coffee at the Sandpiper.
He winced. That was the best he could do? First time in months with no Izzie, what a party animal he turned out to be. Did he know how to have a good time or what?
Maybe he should give the Kiptohanock single ladies a closer look. A short list, which despite the dinner invite wouldn’t include Caroline Duer, no matter how fetching she appeared. Dinner was about Izzie’s feelings. He, Weston James Clark, was immune to Caroline’s charms.
Yeah, right. He grimaced at the remembered feeling of her hand in his. But if it helps you sleep at night, keep telling yourself that, Weston, ol’ buddy.
Pulling into the parking lot between the Coast Guard station and the café, he waved to a Coastie crew departing on a fast boat from the adjacent CG dock. Only to be intercepted by Seth Duer exiting the diner.
“Uh, Weston…” Seth pulled at his bristly mustache. “Could I have a quick word with you?”
He nodded and followed the seasoned waterman to an empty booth. He’d heard tales of Seth Duer’s protectiveness of his daughters. Tales involving shotguns.
Small-town grapevines being what they were, Seth had probably heard about Weston’s dinner plans. He’d set the old man’s mind at ease. No shotguns needed in this situation.
A waitress, Dixie, extricated a pen from where she’d lodged it behind her ear. “Thought you’d gone, Seth Duer. You want seconds?”
Seth waved his hand. “I’m good.” He focused his attention across the booth on Weston. “How aboot you?”
He didn’t have a good feeling from the steely look in the waterman’s blue-green eyes. “Just a coffee and Long John.”
Seth pursed his lips. “This won’t take long. Get it to go, if you like.”
His gut sank further. Dixie arched her brow. “To go it is.”
Dixie jotted something on her notepad and gave Weston’s shoulder a commiserating pat on her way to the kitchen
. An uncomfortable silence settled between the men.
Finally, Seth placed both hands, palms down, on the tabletop. “I like you, son. May I call you son?”
Weston gave him a curt nod.
“Fact is, I believe you to be a good, decent man.”
He wasn’t sure Jessica’s father would’ve agreed with Seth Duer’s assessment of his character. After the way things had ended with Jessica, he wasn’t sure he agreed with Seth Duer’s assessment of his character, either.
“You’re new around here. And that little girl of yours is a sweetheart.” Seth’s mouth thinned, and disappeared behind the mustache. “Despite Reverend Parks’s words on Sunday, I can’t in good conscience advise you to pursue any relationship with Caroline.”
Weston’s mouth fell open. “You’re warning me off? For mine and Izzie’s sake? Because—”
“Because family sticks together in times of need.” Seth raised his chin, in a mannerism not unlike Caroline. “Family takes care of family, but Caroline only takes care of herself.”
“I’m sure Caroline had her reasons—”
“You can’t trust Caroline.”
Immediate words of defense on Caroline’s behalf rose to Weston’s lips. But Seth was right about one thing. Weston was new around here. He didn’t know why Caroline left her family so abruptly, never to return until now. Yet why would Caroline’s own father say such things about her if they weren’t true?
Every conflict had two sides to the story. He aimed to find out what would induce a woman like Caroline to abandon those who loved her. And in doing so, perhaps find closure over the choices Jessica had made, too.
“Caroline’s been kind to Izzie.”
Seth snared him with a look. “And you’re sitting here telling me there’s no interest on your part in my daughter?”
Weston dropped his eyes.
“I’m not trying to be harsh, Weston. Only honest. ’Cause if you or Izzie are seeing Caroline as anything more than…”
He raised his gaze as Seth shrugged.
“She’s not mother material. I don’t want your little girl to get hurt the way…” Seth’s eyes flashed. “Take it from me.” Seth’s mouth hardened. “She’ll destroy your heart.”
Just like Jessica.
But Weston feared Seth’s warning for Izzie—if not him—might already have come too late.
*
Caroline couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this happy. Maybe since before her mother’s cancer diagnosis and subsequent death. She glanced in the rearview mirror into the backseat, where, with shopping bags piled high, Izzie chatted nonstop.
Leaving Accomac, Caroline made a right turn onto the causeway spanning the tidal creek separating the Neck from the rest of the peninsula. She darted a quick look at the car’s dashboard. “In plenty of time for supper, Izz.”
Izzie bobbed in the seat. “We’ll give Daddy a fashion show of everything we bought.”
She’d take her cue from Weston, Caroline decided. Cut dinner short if things got awkward.
Caroline barely managed to park beside the one-story white brick lightkeeper’s cottage before Izzie unleashed the seat belt and swung the door open.
“We’re home, Daddy!” Izzie yelled, and grabbed a shopping bag.
Caroline removed the key from the ignition. Home wasn’t something Caroline could claim. And some of the afternoon’s happiness dimmed for her.
She made her way around to the other side to collect the rest of their shopping extravaganza. She shouldn’t have allowed Izzie to talk her into buying a dress for herself. But once inside the cottage, she’d separate their purchases and make a quick exit.
Then she spotted Weston. In a blue-and-white-plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he stood, hands in his jeans pockets, on the cottage stoop. Again, a lonesome look on his face. Which brightened at the sight of Izzie hurtling across the crushed-clamshell path toward him. His gaze drifted to where Caroline waited by the car.
Her throat caught. He didn’t look happy to see her. Not at all. In fact, he looked like he’d prefer anyone but her to be standing in his driveway.
“…Wait till you see what we bought… Caroline found shoes to match—”
“Shoes?” His eyes sharpened. “I didn’t give you enough money for shoes.”
Caroline moved forward. “It’s okay.”
His mouth tightened. “It’s not okay. We don’t take charity from anyone, much less… Go inside, Izzie.”
“Daddy—”
Stricken, Caroline placed the bags at Izzie’s feet. “Much less from a total stranger. Got it.” She pivoted. “I apologize.” She threw the last bit over her shoulder as she strode toward her car.
“Wait… Stay here, Izzie.” The gravel crunched behind her. “I should be the one apologizing, Caroline. Please, don’t leave. That came out harsher than I intended.”
He hovered within arm’s reach. “I’m sorry. It’s been a…” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “A disconcerting afternoon, which dredged up personal stuff I believed I’d put to rest.”
Weston took hold of her hand. “None of which is your fault. Please forgive me. I’m still getting the hang of not barking at civilians. Izzie will be disappointed if you don’t stay for dinner.”
A light breeze carried his scent to her nostrils. Old Spice, she thought. Masculine and clean. She studied him for a moment. Only the caw of seagulls and the crash of the waves beyond the dunes broke the silence.
Caroline lifted her chin. “Only Izzie?”
Those indigo eyes of his flickered. His mouth curved. “Izzie won’t be the only one disappointed if you don’t stay.”
If she had a lick of sense, she’d get in her car and leave. This former Coast Guard commander obviously had problems of his own. She could barely cope with her issues, much less his accumulated baggage, too.
“We’ve got to show Daddy my dress, Caroline.”
He gave Caroline a winsome smile. Her heart did a strange, palpitating dance. The corners of his eyes crinkled as if he sensed the attraction she felt for him. Did he feel the same way about her?
“Yeah, Caroline.” The blue in his eyes deepened and beckoned. “What Izzie said.”
So not fair playing the kid card. That and she liked the sound of her name on his lips.
Caroline lifted her chin. “You still owe me forty dollars for Izzie’s shoes, Clark.”
His jaw dropped. “Forty dollars? What are they made of? Gold?”
She shrugged. “Welcome to the preteen years, Dad. It only gets more expensive from here on out.”
He groaned. “What have you done to my tough, little tomboy?”
Caroline laughed. “Izzie’s still tough. But she’ll also look fabulous the next time she bests Max.”
He laced his fingers in hers. “Thank you. You’re a very forgiving person.”
Breathless, she realized he’d not let go of her hand.
She glanced toward the point where the setting sun streaked the water a molten gold. “A person who’s been forgiven much should forgive much also.”
He stared at her a minute. “Wise, forgiving and beautiful. All in one package.”
She let her shoulders rise and fall. “Not really.”
“Yes, really. But I get the feeling that like me, that wisdom has been earned the hard way.”
At the understanding in his eyes, a long-dormant hope blossomed in her heart. A hope she’d buried since those terrible days after her mother passed.
“Daddy… Caroline… Are we going to eat or what?”
He threw his daughter a sheepish look. “Coming, Monkey Girl.” He pulled Caroline toward the cottage. “We better get supper on the table before my inmate riots.”
We? And he still had hold of her hand.
She was a scientist, after all. Trained to observe. What she observed was her heart ratcheted a notch at the feel of his hand in hers. And that scared Caroline.
Could she trust her emotions this time? Should she? O
r would only more heartbreak result from allowing this man and child a place in her life?
Warm, welcoming light spilled out from the cottage, casting a path onto the ground. Izzie grabbed on to Caroline’s free hand as if somehow she feared Caroline might bolt.
After a decade of feeling nothing but numbness, like a limb gone to sleep, she felt pinpricks needling her emotions as her heart came to life again.
Time to quit playing it safe? Time to move past the regrets. Toward the light of hope ahead?
Summoning her courage, Caroline crossed the threshold and stepped inside.
Chapter Seven
Weston watched as Izzie gave Caroline a personal tour of the lightkeeper’s quarters. It didn’t take long. First, the combo living and kitchen area. Then the two rooms at the rear of the cottage, which were their temporary bedrooms until Sawyer finished their new bedrooms in the attached lighthouse.
He busied himself boiling the water for pasta while Izzie introduced Caroline one by one to her collection of stuffed animals perched on top of the couch.
“They like spending the day here.” Izzie gestured at the window. “Where they can watch the tide roll in and out.”
At the counter, he diced strawberries for the salad.
Izzie patted the head of the furry monkey, her favorite. “I’ll put them to bed with me later.” Loyal to a fault, though, she’d never admit in front of the other animals she had favorites.
She’d been two when he came home after a long cutter assignment to find Jessica missing and a friend’s wife on Izzie duty.
He should’ve realized then what was going on. Weston tossed a handful of croutons into the salad bowl. He should’ve done a lot of things.
Growing up with two loving parents, he hadn’t imagined there were women who wouldn’t feel the same about their own offspring. It had taken him a long time—too long—to face what a mistake he’d made in marrying Jessica.
“They feel safer in bed with me when it gets dark,” Izzie continued.
Caroline nodded. “Of course they do.”
