Ever a Song

by Karen Toller Whittenburg

  “After I’d talked with the bank,” he continued, ignoring—if he’d noticed at all—that brief moment of sharing, “I called Ross to ask his opinion about getting the work started right away.”

  She interrupted with a softly reticent laugh. “I’m sure my brother didn’t hesitate to tell you either. He’s already warned me not to come near the marina with any of my ‘harebrained’ ideas.”

  “No matter what he tells you, Autumn, he believes you can carry this off with sheer tenacity.”

  “And do you believe that, Cade?” She faced him with an inquisitive and slightly challenging stare.

  His lips formed a leisurely grin. “I happen to believe you’re also going to need a hell of a lot of luck. But that’s neither here nor there. I think the remodeling work should be done now. In another few weeks the weather will be too cold for the constant in-and-out flow of workmen and if we wait until spring, you’ll get a late start on our busiest season.”

  “What about the line of credit? Shouldn’t we wait to be sure the bank approves it?”

  “I’ll take care of that, Autumn. Don’t worry about it.”

  A doubt wandered through her mind, slipped away, and returned. Two weeks before, Cade had been glad of an excuse to postpone a decision. Now he’d not only decided, he wanted to begin work right away. “Another week or so won’t make that much difference,” she said. “Then you can rest easy knowing I have something more substantial than tenacity with which to start the boutique.”

  “I thought this was what you wanted.” Impatience lined his voice.

  The doubt doubled in size and Autumn frowned. “Of course I’d love to open for business tomorrow, Cade, but I know that isn’t realistic. I can wait until the bank—”

  “I said I’d take care of that, Autumn. If Clayton turns you down, we’ll get the line of credit somewhere else.”

  “But you said you’d prefer that the local—”

  “Stop trying to look a gift-horse in ...” He obviously thought better of finishing the sentence, but he didn’t flinch from her sudden and equally obvious annoyance.

  Doubt became certainty as her brown eyes clashed with his determined blue ones. She would have liked to vent her frustration with him in a tension-releasing anger, but some inner knowledge stayed her impulse. This unlooked-for capitulation was his way of appeasing her, of smoothing a strained situation. She knew it as well as she knew him. The new wariness in their relationship bothered him and he was seeking a way to please her, to make everything “right.” And the ploy would have worked fifteen years ago, but she was no longer a child to be indulged. She opened her mouth to tell him so, and in the same instant knew it was not the sort of thing he could be told.

  “Fine, Cade. I won’t worry about the bank’s decision.” She couldn’t control the cool edge of displeasure that laced her voice. “I’ll get in touch with the construction people this afternoon, or have you already taken care of that for me?”

  “No. This is your project, Autumn. I just wanted to—” He stroked a thumb along his jaw in ill-concealed irritation. “Hell, I thought you’d be happy about this.”

  “I am happy.”

  “Well, you could smile then.”

  “I don’t feel like smiling!” She felt like telling him exactly what he could do with his plans for her project, but she forced her energy into picking up the inventory list she’d dropped on his desk. “I have too many things to do.”

  “You don’t have to familiarize yourself with every last stock number in this store. I don’t understand why you think that’s so important all of a sudden.”

  It was a way of assuming a responsibility she’d left too long neglected, but Cade, of course, wouldn’t credit her with such an adult motivation. Her grip on the papers firmed. “Maybe I’m just protecting my own interests, Cade. I haven’t had much to do with the store’s operation since I started college. Someday I might need to know exactly what my quarter of this business includes, and you might not be around to tell me.”

  “That’s hardly likely.”

  “You never know.” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, but her throat ached with the effort to appear nonchalant. “At any rate, after today I’ll have to concentrate on getting the boutique ready to open, now that I have your permission to begin. But don’t think that I’ll neglect the other aspects of this store. Not anymore.”

  He was on his feet, abandoning the position of authority to face her squarely. But as he rounded the corner of the desk, Autumn stepped back, clutching the inventory list like a shield. Cade stopped abruptly; whatever he’d been about to say to her was stilled by her defensive movement. She saw the question reflected in his sudden frown, but couldn’t prevent her apprehension from weaving itself into the air between them. He was too close already. She was too aware. No matter what he thought, she couldn’t let him come any nearer.

  “I never intended to sound like I was granting permission, Autumn. I was only trying to—”

  “I know what you’re trying to do, Cade, and I know I’m supposed to be pleased. But I’m not. I’m just not and for heaven’s sake, don’t ask me to explain.” She faltered when she saw the change in his expression, but then plunged on. “It would be pointless to argue about something we agree on. And I do agree with you that the sooner work gets under way the better. It’s just that I wish you’d handled the situation with a little more ... professionalism.”

  “Now, what in hell is that supposed to mean? This feels very much like an argument despite the fact that we’re supposedly in complete agreement.” He took a step forward and reached for the list in her hand.

  Autumn retreated, taking the list with her. “I only meant that you’d made up your mind before you ever thought about asking my opinion. You asked Ross, but you simply told me what your decision was. I own as many shares of stock as my brother, yet he’s treated as a partner while I’m treated like a—” She broke off. It was bad enough that he continued to think of her as a child; she didn’t have to keep reminding him.

  “Look, just forget it. You’re happy. I’m happy. Let’s leave it at that.” She eyed the doorway behind him, wanting to escape, but not wanting to walk past him. “And speaking of leaving, I’m sure someone, somewhere, is waiting to take me to lunch, so if you don’t mind....”

  He didn’t move. Autumn swallowed the knot of discomfort in her throat and started toward the door. As she reached his side, his fingers closed around her wrist and her heart took a swan dive to the bottom of her stomach. “Autumn?”

  His husky voice calling her name relentlessly tugged her gaze up to meet his and her body trembled. For a moment she imagined giving in to the impulse to melt against him, to enclose him in her arms and in her love. Her hand crept to the base of her throat and hovered there uncertainly.

  Doubt feathered the corners of his eyes and the grip on her wrist relaxed as he rubbed his thumb back and forth over her skin. The inventory list slipped from her fingers to slide aimlessly onto the floor. Her lips parted of their own volition to invite him, even though logic told her he had no intention of accepting. As if he were trying to interpret her silence, Cade bent slightly toward her and without conscious thought her hand went from her throat to pause a touch away from his cheek.

  She hesitated, locked in that instant of decision, knowing she mustn’t complicate an already complicated situation, but not knowing how to get her hand safely back to her side. Yet even as the thought took shape, Cade made the decision and stepped back, releasing her wrist and bending to retrieve the inventory list. When he straightened again, the ambiance of intimacy was gone, as if it had never been.

  The curve of his mouth formed a familiar line of mischief that somehow failed to reach his eyes. “Get your things, Autumn, and I’ll take you to lunch. All you have to do is smile.”

  She lowered her lashes to conceal the annoyance that returned in full measure with his words. “No, thank you.” Gaining a modicum of control, she made herself face his pseudo-amu
sement. “My smiles don’t come so cheaply anymore, Cade.”

  She was opening the office door in a matter of seconds and walking as casually as possible through the reception area. Cade’s gaze was on her every step of the way and his silence thundered after her, but she kept walking. Ignoring Marilynda’s concerned glance, Autumn left the office and entered the store itself. She paused just long enough to get her jacket and purse before heading for the wide, wooden front door of Eastport Boat Supply.

  “Wait, Autumn,” Cade called behind her, but she didn’t even glance back as she pulled on the door handle and stepped outside. At the curb a long, black limousine eased to a halt right behind the No Parking sign and Autumn had a sudden, panicky impulse to laugh aloud. All the tensions of the past two weeks coupled with the strain of the last few minutes culminated in the wild idea that she must be hallucinating. Richard Colburn had never, in all the time she’d known him, arrived anywhere on time. To think that he had arrived now, with such perfect split-second timing was funny. No, she amended as she heard the door of the boat supply open behind her. It wasn’t funny, and if Richard’s timing had been truly perfect, the limousine—with her inside—would at this very moment be sweeping away from the curb.

  She felt Cade’s displeasure, but knew if she turned to look, his expression would reveal only a mild curiosity. She didn’t turn. She stepped forward to meet the tall slender man who was getting out of the car. Richard Colburn was darkly handsome, with beguiling eyes that occasionally were a somber sapphire, but usually sparkled a charming baby blue. His tailored suit matched the limousine in color and pampered elegance. A gold watch chain on his vest added a flavor of old-world, old-money dignity. Autumn knew, though, the watch in his pocket wouldn’t have the correct time because Richard never bothered to set it.

  “Saints preserve us! What a beautiful woman!” He met her in the middle of the sidewalk, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her soundly. She was awkwardly conscious of Cade’s presence and would have offered a more restrained greeting, but Richard didn’t give her a chance to state her preference. When he drew back to hold her at arm’s length, his lips curved disarmingly. “Hello. Could you tell me where in this thriving metropolis I might find a cherry pie?”

  Autumn smiled a welcome. “Hello, Richard. What a surprise. How did you ever find your way down here?”

  “I set the car on autopilot and here I am.” He caught sight of Cade and turned expectantly. “I’m Richard Colburn,” he said, extending his hand as he crossed the sidewalk.

  “Kincade O’Connor.” Cade reciprocated and shook the proffered hand with only a slight hesitation that Autumn was sure no one else would have noticed. Both men took a step back, smiled, and eyed the other warily.

  “From all that Autumn’s told me, I expected you to be taller,” Richard said, innocently disregarding the fact that he had to look up to say it. “From the way she talked, I thought you’d be at least eight feet, but I suppose stature is in the eye of the beholder.”

  Cade glanced at Autumn, obviously unsure of how to reply. There was no need to answer, though, because Richard had turned his attention to the store window. “Great-looking display, Autumn.”

  The compliment pleased her all the more because Cade heard it. “Thank you,” she said pointedly. “I’ve been taking care of the window since I returned. Cade doesn’t really like to do it.” Her smile deepened; Cade frowned.

  “You’re lucky to have her.” Richard’s gaze went from Autumn to Cade. “She’s a natural when it comes to merchandising and I have every intention of stealing her away from you and taking her home to New York.” He winked at her. “Are your bags packed?”

  With a shake of her head, she tried not to notice Cade’s frosty regard. “Would you like to see the store, Richard?”

  “Do you have time to show me around, O’Connor?”

  This time Cade smiled and Autumn frowned. “Of course,” he answered as he opened the front door and motioned Richard inside. Autumn entered first, but soon found herself a step behind as the two men began talking business. She could have strangled Richard for assuming that Cade should be the tour guide. And as for Cade—well, he should have had the good grace not to notice.

  For almost twenty minutes Autumn followed, listened, and responded with a polite nod whenever a comment was tossed in her direction. At last, though, Cade turned to her with the suggestion that she show Richard “her” corner of the store. She didn’t quite understand how Cade managed to redeem himself in those few words, but she knew that her heart had quickened with the note of pride in his voice. He stood quietly at her side as she explained her plans for the mini-boutique. Richard was sincere in his praise, but it was Cade’s silent approval that mattered, that brought the soft color to her cheeks.

  “How soon will you be ready to open?” Richard asked.

  “December first,” Cade answered before Autumn had a chance.

  Richard arched his brows in surprise. “Great. The sooner the better as far as I’m concerned. I’ll be very glad when Autumn gets this small-town-success syndrome out of her system and comes home to New York, where she belongs.”

  The denial formed on her lips, a denial she’d made a hundred times and that Richard had predictably ignored each time, but it died when she heard Cade’s brusque agreement. “So will I, Richard. So will I.”

  She could hardly believe he’d said it, but it was easy to believe he meant it. Through a hazy sense of betrayal, she heard Cade tell Richard what a pleasure it had been to meet him. She saw the polite handshake of farewell, and she saw Cade turn toward the office, but she refused to watch him go. Instead, she flashed Richard a warm smile and suggested a nice leisurely lunch.

  “I know just the place.” Richard took her hand and laced his fingers with hers. “It’ll take a couple of hours to get there, but if you can take the afternoon off...?”

  “No problem.” With a tip of her chin Autumn mentally consigned the inventory list and the entire boat supply business to the devil. “I don’t have to ask permission. Who’s going to tell me, no?”

  “Not only beautiful, but independent as well. Could I interest you in a trip to see my etchings?”

  “At the moment I’m interested only in lunch.”

  “And after that?”

  “I’m game for almost anything, as long as it’s at least fifty miles from Eastport.”

  He grinned wickedly and his eyes twinkled a frivolous warning. “Lucky you. I just happen to know the perfect place.” Richard made a grand sweep with his free hand toward the door and the chauffeured car waiting outside. “This way to Paradise.”

  Autumn smiled at his nonsense and wished that Richard could whisk her magically away. She desperately needed to put some distance between herself and Cade. But in her heart she knew that Cade, not with her and uninvited, would be along for the entire trip—no matter how far away “Paradise” proved to be.

  Chapter Seven

  Cade eyed the angle of the sun and decided that he had time to take the sailboat out for a few hours before dark. Not that he had to be in a hurry—the boat was equipped with lights and he knew the area like the back of his hand, but there was no reason to stay out on the bay that long. Once, late afternoon had been his favorite time of day for sailing, but that had been when he had Autumn for company, when her delight in watching the sunset from out on the water had made the extra effort of sailing home at night worthwhile.

  He wondered how the sunset would look from the tinted windows of a limousine.

  Probably like a million dollars.

  With a grimace, he stepped up onto the boat deck and took a deep, cleansing breath. He wished he could stop thinking about limousines and glitzy restaurants and the fact that Autumn hadn’t come back to the store. She hadn’t been home either. He’d checked. Of course she’d only been gone since noon, but that was long enough.

  Long enough. He rubbed the back of his neck and resolutely reminded himself that Autumn was not accountable to him.
If she chose to take a lunch hour that lasted until next week, he had no right to protest. If he were honest, he would have to admit that he’d done little to encourage her to return.

  Ever since the night he’d let things get out of control, he’d tried to discourage her from being anywhere near him. He’d ignored, as best he could, her presence at the store. He’d made no comment on the way she’d taken charge of the window display, and until today he’d said nothing about her quiet determination to relearn all of the things she’d forgotten about the boat supply business. Ross had even expressed his pleasant surprise at Autumn’s newfound interest in the work done at the marina.

  But Cade had remained silent despite the feeling of pride that would not be reasoned away, despite his longing to dispel the frown she so often wore. The distance he so carefully observed was a means of self-defense, of protecting himself as well as her.

  But this morning he’d watched her methodically checking the inventory list and he’d known he had to do something to make her smile.

  Cade began to release the snaps on the sail cover with unnecessarily sharp tugs. Richard Colburn had made her smile. And Richard Colburn had kissed her. And Richard Colburn had taken her to lunch ... and hadn’t brought her back.

  The cover came loose and Cade began folding it. As far as he knew, Autumn might be in New York City at this very moment.

  But she wasn’t. He caught a glimpse of bright color on the path at the end of the dock and his heart jerked in recognition. Autumn had been wearing that particular shade of sunshine today. He hadn’t been able to keep from noticing how the color had complemented her own vibrant loveliness. He’d often thought she was aptly named, but never more so than now as he watched her walking toward him.

  Autumn. She was as vivid and breathtaking as the October world around her. And in that moment Cade knew how colorless the passing seasons had been without her. She was warmth in a winter snow; her husky voice was the laughter of spring; her eyes held the rich tawny heat of summer, and in autumn ... she was magic.