Honeysuckle Bride

by Tara Randel

  The dog jumped and barked like crazy, following his master.

  “Is she okay?” Jenna croaked through the fear lodged in her throat.

  When the man nodded, her limbs went shaky as relief swept over her. He spoke to Bridget in a quiet voice, but Jenna couldn’t make out his words. Wrapping an arm around Abby, she hugged her close before following the man to dry sand. Once there, he set Bridget down on Jenna’s abandoned blanket in a gentle motion, told the dog to hush, and crouched beside her, his hands resting on small shoulders as he murmured in a low, but firm, voice. The coughing stopped, and within seconds, Bridget’s whimpers turned into racking sobs.

  Jenna tried to push him aside to get to the little girl, but Bridget wouldn’t release her hold of the man’s hand. He sent Jenna a sharp warning glance before turning his attention back to Bridget. Infuriated, she moved closer. Who was he, a stranger, to keep her from Bridget?

  Only the man who saved her life, an accusing voice taunted. Angry with herself for losing sight of Bridget in the first place, she bent down to pick up the man’s ball cap. Shaking off the sand, she took a step closer, intending to return it to him and take over the job of comforting Bridget. But before she could intervene, the little girl rose and launched herself into the stranger’s arms.

  The man fell backward to the ground, taking the brunt of the fall while he protected Bridget. As the dog began to bark again, he glanced up at her and Jenna’s gaze tangled with the bluest pair of eyes she’d ever seen. A slight frown marred his forehead, but it didn’t detract from his handsome face.

  Abby, in tears, ran over to hug her sister. Bridget let go of the man to return her sister’s hug. He rose, swiping sand from the seat of his drenched shorts before reassuring his anxious pet with a vigorous rub.

  “I don’t know what to say.” Unnerved by the events, Jenna’s voice choked with emotion. “Thank you, Mr....?”

  “Wyatt Hamilton.”

  She handed him his cap, which he settled on his head. An accusatory glare hardened his eyes.

  Jenna felt an unwelcome flush warm her cheeks. “I would have gotten to her in time, but you moved much faster,” she said, pushing past the tightness in her chest.

  Wyatt looked down at the girls, then back to Jenna.

  “Make sure swimming conditions are safe next time you bring the girls here,” he said, his voice husky, as if seldom used. Anger punctuated his tone. “Next time you might not be so lucky.” He turned on his heel, whistled for the dog and headed back in the direction of the marina.

  Jenna’s mouth fell open. Shock, frustration and fear weighed heavily on her shoulders.

  * * *

  LATER THAT NIGHT, Jenna softly closed the door to the girls’ bedroom, having checked on them for the fifth time. Running her hands through her mussed hair, she walked back to the living room to rejoin Nealy, who sat on the couch waiting for her.

  “Still asleep?”

  “Yes.” Jenna picked up her cup. Despite her still queasy stomach after the day’s events, she took a sip of lukewarm tea and grimaced.

  “Problem?”

  “Too cool.” Jenna nodded toward Nealy’s cup. “Want a refill?”

  “Sounds good.”

  They both moved to the kitchen, Jenna’s motions brisk as she refilled the kettle before setting it on the burner. She reached into a canister for fresh tea bags to replace the used ones she’d just dumped, then leaned back against the counter, fighting against tears.

  “What was I thinking?”

  “Jenna, quit beating yourself up. Bridget is fine.”

  She’d managed to calm both girls down at the beach, then they’d packed up and headed home. After a quick bath and grilled cheese sandwiches, they settled onto the couch with a big bowl of popcorn to watch a favorite Disney movie. The girls stayed glued to Jenna’s side until Nealy arrived later on and Jenna tucked them in for the night.

  “No thanks to me. It’s my job to keep the girls safe. A stranger beat me to it.”

  “You had no idea what would happen.”

  “And that’s the problem. I should have been sure the girls could swim before they went near the water instead of taking their word for it.”

  Nealy paused before saying, “You can’t second-guess yourself.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

  Jenna’s shoulders slumped. “What was Carrie thinking, leaving the girls with me?”

  “She knew you would love them.”

  “I’m finding out that’s not enough.” She threw up her hands. “The only thing I know how to do is cook. Sure, they get three meals a day, but what about the rest? I’ve never been responsible for anyone but myself. When Carrie was alive, I visited or took the girls on a special play date every now and then. I never stopped to consider their day-to-day needs.”

  “I think you’re getting a crash course.”

  She was indeed.

  “It’s only been six months since Carrie died and my heart still aches. She was more of a sister than a friend.” Her voice hitched. “I miss her terribly.”

  Nealy hugged her. “I can’t even imagine,” she whispered.

  Jenna took comfort in Nealy’s presence, drinking in her support.

  “Did I ever tell you how we met?” she asked as she drew back, swiping at her moist eyes.

  “No.” Nealy moved away, giving her some space. “I got the feeling you didn’t like talking about your childhood.”

  “Being in the foster system—it can be tough unless you find a friend.”

  The kettle whistled. Jenna turned off the burner and poured steaming water in both mugs. A slight smile tugged her lips as she remembered her first meeting with Carrie.

  “I’d been at this home for about six weeks when Carrie showed up. Thirteen years old with an attitude.” She chuckled. “Heavy black eyeliner, a couple of piercings and a wardrobe you’d cringe at. One look from her and I figured she’d make my life miserable.”

  “Obviously something changed.”

  Jenna blew on the steaming liquid before taking a sip of tea. “She’d been there about two weeks when she got caught sneaking back in the house after curfew. We shared a room and I watched her climb out the window almost every night, but didn’t say a word. Our foster mother, Mrs. Thomas, wanted an explanation, and much to my surprise, Carrie froze. Couldn’t think of a thing to say. What happened to the smart aleck I lived with?

  “Feeling bad for her, I told Mrs. Thomas, who really wasn’t so bad, just overwhelmed, that I’d forgotten my homework at a friend’s house and Carrie offered to get it for me. I’m not sure she believed my story but she let it slide. After she left us alone, Carrie demanded to know why I’d stood up for her. I couldn’t tell her that my heart went out to this brash girl who’d finally showed a vulnerable side, so I said I did it so she’d owe me a favor. Surprised, because I usually stayed away from conflict, and impressed that I’d stood up for her, especially for a price, she walked over to me and held her fist in the air. I finally figured out she wanted a fist bump. It was a bonding moment for us.”

  After that, they’d slowly moved from reluctant allies to true friends. Made wonderful plans for what their lives would become once they aged out of the foster system. For the most part, they’d achieved their dreams, until an accident tore Carrie away from Jenna and the girls.

  “Maybe I’m not cut out to be a mom.”

  She couldn’t help but wonder if bad mothering was hereditary. Her own mother had an alcohol problem, which made her less than reliable. It took one visit from a caseworker to find Jenna in a barely habitable apartment, alone, with very little food, for her to move Jenna to a new home. When her mother didn’t argue or try to win her back, Jenna began her journey of moving from home to home.

 
Nealy snorted. “I disagree. I can’t imagine those girls with anyone else.”

  “Is this what life is going to be like? Me making mistakes and the girls paying for them?”

  “Jenna, give yourself a break. You’ve only lived with them for six months.”

  She ran a shaky hand over her brow. “Carrie and I talked about me becoming the girls’ guardian, but I thought that’s all it was. Talk.” She shook her head. “I didn’t think too much about the conversation, but Carrie took it to the next step to assure her children’s future.”

  “And in the time you’ve had the girls you expect to be a perfect parent? You think you should know everything there is to know about children and never make a mistake? C’mon, the girls are ten years old. I can guarantee Carrie made mistakes, no matter how much she loved and cared for them.”

  Jenna straightened her shoulders. She could do this. She had to do this. “Okay, I’ll admit I’m walking on shaky ground here, but you’re right. It’s getting better, but still, I need time to get used to being a parent.”

  “The first step is admitting you have a problem.” Humor sparkled in Nealy’s eyes as she attempted to lighten the moment.

  Jenna grinned. “Oh, I could come up with quite a list.”

  “Hey, don’t put yourself down. I think you’re doing great. For a single woman busy with her career, you accepted responsibility for the girls no questions asked and embraced the idea of being a mom. Take this break you have from filming right now to grieve along with the girls. Once it’s time for the television season to start up again, things will get better.”

  “As long as the tabloid press stays away.” She shivered. “If not for the exposure from my job and attracting a crazy person, we wouldn’t have left the only place the girls have ever lived.”

  “No, it was that one idiot reporter. If he hadn’t been so intent on documenting your life—”

  “Which is incredibly boring, by the way.”

  “—nothing would have happened. You’d still be in LA, filming your cooking show and making guest appearances on talk shows.”

  “Honestly, on the juicy gossip chart, I rank about minus eleven.”

  Nealy laughed. “Now that is totally true.”

  After years of trying to stay invisible in foster homes, never making waves or causing trouble, Jenna had spent her youth feeling like an outsider. Once she grew up, finished school and embarked on her career, she still found herself on the sidelines of personal relationships, with the exception of a handful of people she trusted. As her career took off, she traded obscurity for the limelight, never imagining that her life might be of interest to anyone but herself.

  When Jenna gained custody of the girls, it had been a blip in the media radar since she was hardly in the same league as A-list celebrities. Until Rod. It had gotten to the point she couldn’t leave the house without him in her face, asking for an exclusive interview or pictures at home with her and the girls. Only the restraining order could slow him down.

  “If he hadn’t gotten so obsessed with us, we would have been fine back in LA”

  “Look,” Nealy said. “You’re here. You’re safe. We have your back. Get that awful reporter out of your mind. He’ll latch on to another story and forget all about you.”

  He had to. Jenna had based her move to Florida on that hope.

  “Just be thankful Wyatt came upon you when he did.”

  At the mention of his name, Jenna remembered the terse man who’d come to her rescue, his act of bravery at odds with his sharp parting words. Her skin prickled with indignation. “I’m grateful for what he did, but didn’t appreciate the mini lecture before he took off.”

  “That’s Wyatt Hamilton. I’ve known him for a long time, but after the rough few years he’s had, he’s not the most...easy guy to be around.”

  “Understatement.”

  “You only talked to him for a few minutes.”

  “It was a long few minutes.” Jenna recalled the memory. His eyes had been so intense, so judging. “Besides, I wasn’t thrilled he was doing the rescuing while I stood on the beach feeling helpless. I should have been the one to save Bridget.”

  “C’mon, Jenna. It’s not like he rushed in the water just to make you look bad.”

  True, logic reminded her, but his quick actions had made her feel incompetent.

  “Listen, he’s got a lot of baggage, so we all tend to cut him some slack,” Nealy said.

  Had her annoyance been so obvious? Jenna sighed. “I guess no one is immune to baggage.”

  “Yeah, but his is pretty horrible.”

  The crash of ice cubes falling from the freezer ice maker broke the silence following Nealy’s statement.

  “Are you going to tell me?” Jenna prodded.

  “His son died about two years ago. He was only eight.”

  Jenna’s chest tightened. “How awful.” She’d just lost Carrie and the hurt was still so fresh, but to lose a child? She’d only had custody of the girls for less than a year but had known them their entire lives. How would she deal with a loss like his? She couldn’t even imagine the pain he must live with every day.

  “It was a boating accident,” Nealy continued. “About six months later, his wife filed for divorce.”

  “I’ve heard that happens sometimes when parents lose a child, but a double whammy? No wonder he has issues.”

  “He’s still so torn up.”

  “You said you’ve known him for a long time?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Wyatt grew up here, so we were all devastated by his loss. My sister told me he disappeared right after the funeral. About four months ago, a friend of ours, Max Sanders, met up with Wyatt and talked him into coming back. Now Wyatt captains a fishing charter boat, but I think he’s only going through the motions, not really living.”

  “I don’t know what to say. Poor guy.” Jenna sipped her tea, her heart breaking for a man she didn’t know. “Where does he live? I think the girls and I will bake cookies as a way of saying thank-you.”

  Nealy’s eyes grew troubled. “I’d rethink the idea. He’s kind of a loner.”

  “Even loners who disapprove of my parenting skills need to eat.”

  “Jenna’s answer to all and every problem. Food.”

  “What can I say? It’s who I am.”

  Jenna had discovered her love for cooking early on when she helped out in each foster home she’d lived in. In high school, she’d worked for a catering company specializing in weddings and loved it. Who knew food would turn into a career?

  “Which I, for one, am happy about,” Nealy said. “You’re still going to make your gourmet mac and cheese for the welcome party, right?”

  “Yes. You might be an event planner extraordinaire, but you can’t boil water.”

  “We can’t all be gifted in the kitchen.”

  “True.” Jenna smiled. “Thanks for throwing a party to welcome us to Cypress Pointe. It’s nice of Dane to hold the shindig at his hotel.”

  “Anything to show off the Grand Cypress. Of course, it does help that he’s wild about me.”

  Jenna laughed. “I still can’t believe he came to LA with you to pack up your belongings. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I’d never believe just how crazy Dane is about you.”

  She also couldn’t imagine a love that strong and found herself a bit envious.

  “After being apart for so many years, we have a lot of catching up to do. And besides, he’s happy to have the party for you.”

  “I gotta say, I thought the guest of honor only had to show up and meet her new neighbors, not bring the food.”

  “True for most mere mortals, but you make a mean mac and cheese. Since I’ve bragged about your culinary prowess nonstop since you told me you were moving to town, you can’t show up empty-h
anded.”

  “Fine. Besides, you know I would have brought something even if you didn’t ask.”

  “Yep, so why not put my order in?”

  Jenna admitted that spending time with Nealy went a long way to easing her insecurities.

  Nealy glanced at her watch. “I need to get going. Will you be all right?”

  “Yes. And, Nealy?”

  Her friend raised her eyebrows.

  “Thanks. For everything.”

  “Anytime.” Nealy swooped in for another hug. “Actually, all the time now that you’re here in Cypress Pointe.”

  Jenna’s heart lifted with affection for her friend. “I hope I don’t become a nuisance.”

  “Unlikely. Once you figure this motherhood thing out, you’ll feel better.”

  Jenna crossed her arms over her chest, rubbed her chilly forearms. “We’ll see.”

  “Hey, quit with the gloom and doom. You can do this.”

  “You’re right.” Jenna dropped her arms. Tilted her chin. “I can do this.”

  “That’s my friend.” Nealy walked to the front door. “Don’t forget. Tomorrow night. Six. Grand Cypress Hotel.”

  “Got it.”

  Nealy’s smile softened. “I promise, once you meet my family and get to know the wonderful people in Cypress Pointe, you’ll be glad you came.” That said, she swept out the door into the hot, humid August night.

  Watching her friend get into her car and drive away, Jenna tried to take Nealy’s confidence in her to heart. She could do this, right? Be a single mom? But the doubts and worries continued nagging at her. Take today, for example. As much as Wyatt’s response made her angry, he was right. She had to do better.

  Still, grief weighed on Jenna. As much as she tried to keep a sunny outlook for the girls, at times, the sorrow took her to her knees. Mostly in the quiet, late at night after the girls went to bed and she only had herself for company. Missing Carrie, asking why she’d been taken from them at such a young age, made it difficult for Jenna to find any kind of normalcy in her life. And it was even worse for the twins. As much as Jenna tried to console them, at times her efforts seemed ineffective. Lacking. And with two strikes against her when it came to the girls’ safety, she couldn’t afford any more close calls.