Aurora offered her home, the charmingly renovated Victorian bed-and-breakfast, for an after-funeral brunch. With nearly one hundred people from Fox Creek and surrounding areas attending, the home could not accommodate all who wanted to express their sympathy to Martin. The well-wishers spilled out into Aurora’s yard and sunroom until the winter sun began to fade.
Guests left, temporary help tidied the mess and soon only the immediate family remained to see Martin through the rest of this difficult day. Standing in the entrance to the sunroom, Carrie was the only one to see her father’s hand slip without ceremony into Aurora’s comforting grasp as they stood looking over the acreage in the dusky shadows.
Aurora’s Attic, the place was called, and Carrie found comfort surrounded by the charm of old china settings and images of angels on the walls. Perhaps Aurora was an angel herself. She had helped her sisters find their loves, and she would help her father through his grief. What more noble purpose was there for an angel?
By six thirty the sky was dark. The family thanked Aurora and prepared to go back to Dancing Falls.
“I’d like to stay for a while, Daddy,” Carrie said. “I have my car, and I’ll be home soon.”
“I shouldn’t let you drive when you’re still wearing the boot.”
Carrie shook her head. “You know I could quit using the boot anytime, and besides, it’s less than half a mile.”
He looked to Aurora for consent, and his friend nodded. “I think Carrie and I need some time alone,” she said.
“If you’re sure, Carrie,” Martin said.
“Yes, Daddy, I’m sure.” Since the funeral had been planned at the same time as her doctor’s appointment, she had rescheduled for Monday. What difference would one more weekend make in her recuperation? She’d been conscious of the boot all day as if relinquishing it in three days signaled an end to much more than simply a broken leg.
When the house was quiet, Aurora made tea and served it in delicate china cups in her parlor. At the last moment, she went to a cabinet and withdrew a bottle of brandy. “It’s the best quality,” she said. “I’ve never opened it, but bought it months ago thinking there might come a time.” She took off the cap. “I don’t know about you, dear, but I think that time has come.”
The two women sat in comfortable silence for minutes until at last Aurora spoke. “I never knew you as well as I did your sisters. I regret that. Sometimes I felt that you needed your mother more than the other two did. I know your pathway with Martin hasn’t always been an easy one.”
Carrie smiled. “No, it hasn’t. My mother understood my desire to be independent and follow my dreams. Daddy never quite got that. No one did, really, until...”
Aurora set her teacup on an end table. Her shoulders relaxed with a deep exhalation of breath. “Do you want to talk about him, Carrie? I am very happy to listen.”
She did want to talk about him, and in the waning hours of a trying and sad day, she told Aurora her story.
* * *
AT FIVE O’CLOCK on Friday afternoon, JFK Airport was as bustling as Keegan had ever seen it. People rushing to weekend destinations, people heading somewhere hoping to find something better than they were leaving, executives going home after business trips. Keegan figured few of the multitude were adventurers hoping to get the last remaining seats on the last remaining flight to a civil war.
The flight was boarding in a half hour. Butch had gone into a bar to either pump some liquid courage into his blood for what they’d be facing, or to accentuate the thrill he was feeling at being back behind his camera. Keegan had passed on bar time. He’d probably drain a couple of ounce-sized liquor bottles on the plane and then try to sleep for the eleven-hour flight. Once they landed, renting a decent car and traveling into hostile territory would be the real test of their commitment to this story.
Boarding the flight from the Cleveland airport the day before hadn’t been easy. Keegan remembered his last trip to the airport, when he and Carrie had met his son. He recalled his frustration at Carrie for interfering in his life, and later his gratitude that she’d done it. Waiting to connect to JFK, Keegan recalled, too, his last conversation with Taylor. “It’s just one more time, kid, I swear,” he’d promised. “I wouldn’t be doing this except I owe Butch a lot.”
“More than you owe me, Dad?” Taylor had said. “You promised you were done with this life.”
“I know. I’m sorry. This is the last time. I’ll call you when I can.”
Now, sitting in an uncomfortable vinyl chair waiting to sit in an even more uncomfortable narrow seat with little leg room, he contemplated his relationship with his son. He’d have to make this up to Taylor. And then his mind strayed to his worst infidelity, his betrayal of Carrie.
While in Cleveland, his mind had played tricks on him, causing him to imagine where she was, what she was doing. He’d looked up her hometown of Fox Creek and knew it was close to the airport. He could forget this whole thing with Butch, rent a car and be looking into Carrie’s eyes again in less than a half hour.
And then his rational side took over. He was leaving because of her, because he wasn’t what she needed in her life. They had no future. She needed someone who would share her beliefs in the goodness of man and the powers of nature. Keegan Breen wasn’t that person, and the sooner he cut off ties with her, the better her life would be.
But damn, he loved her. And now, sitting for the last few minutes at JFK, the doubts haunted Keegan once more. He closed his eyes tightly. Her face, so beautiful, so serene, appeared in his mind. Who really knew what the future held? If people waited for secure, guaranteed futures, would there ever be marriages or children? Could love be enough? What could he offer her to show he could be a changed man, that he had, in fact, already started the difficult journey toward normalcy because of her influence?
Didn’t he owe it to himself to try? He wasn’t such a lost cause that he didn’t deserve one chance at a future that held promise. One last trip to a battle zone paled in comparison to the shot at a lasting future he never thought he’d have.
He thought about what he could give her, how he could show his devotion and his willingness to try. And he smiled when he decided upon the exact thing he could offer her. Maybe it would work. Or maybe she didn’t want to see him again. But he had to try. Even if he failed, he would know he had tried. With a great burden lifted from his shoulders and a spark of his own optimism burning inside his chest, Keegan hitched his duffel bag over his shoulder and strode to the bar.
Butch looked up from a half glass of ale. “Time to go?” he asked.
“I’m not going,” Keegan said.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“I’m sorry, Butch. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. We’ve been through a lot together, but I can’t do it again...”
“It’s that woman, isn’t it? The one drawing the pictures?”
Keegan nodded. “I don’t know. I think so. I just have to see what the future could hold with her. I always thought I could handle loneliness, but these last few days showed me what loneliness really is. And I didn’t handle it all that well. If she’ll have me, I want her back.”
“I’m sorry you’re not going,” Butch said. His voice held no hint of anger, just an edge of disappointment. “I’m not surprised, though.” He chuckled. “Well, since we are at the airport just minutes away from taking off, maybe a little surprised. I don’t know where I’ll find another reporter.”
Keegan put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “When you get there, just lead with your name. There isn’t a word jockey anywhere in the world who wouldn’t jump at the chance to work with you.”
“What are your plans now?” Butch asked. “You going back to that campground?”
“I just might be,” Keegan said. “It really isn’t such a bad place to live.” He grin
ned. “Needs a few more trees, though.”
The two men embraced, and Keegan strode off to the nearest ticket counter. He bought the last seat on the first plane back to Cleveland and had to run to catch the flight.
* * *
WHILE WAITING ON the tarmac for the plane to take off, Keegan used his phone to locate Dr. Martin Foster. After storing the address, he pressed Connect to phone the home. He’d considered not calling first, but there were too many variables. What if Carrie wasn’t home? What if she didn’t want to see him? What if his last surprise had left her suspicious of anything he might do again? Since he didn’t have Carrie’s cell number, he hoped to reach her this way.
“Hello.” The voice that answered was that of a child.
“Hello,” Keegan said. “Is Carrie there?”
“You mean Aunt Carrie?”
Keegan smiled. “Yes, that’s right. You must be Wesley.”
“I am. Who are you?”
“I’m a friend of your aunt Carrie’s. I’d really like to talk to her.”
“She’s next door at Miss Aurora’s. It’s one of those places where people sleep and then get a free breakfast.”
Ah, a bed-and-breakfast. “When will she be home? Do you know?”
“No. Maybe she’ll sleep there and get the breakfast. Everyone’s sad today because my grandma died.”
Oh, no. Carrie was dealing with her mother’s death. The timing couldn’t have been worse. Carrie was carrying a burden of grief as well as the emotions she must be experiencing about him. But at least she was among people who loved her.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
The flight attendant walked down the aisle, telling passengers to disconnect their electronic devices.
“I have to hang up,” Keegan said.
“Okay, bye.” The line went dead. And since he was already on the plane and they were in position to take off, Keegan decided he’d take his chances with a surprise visit. Finding a bed-and-breakfast next door to Dancing Falls shouldn’t be too difficult. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Could be worse. If Carrie wouldn’t see him, at least he’d have a place to stay and a free breakfast.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CARRIE AND AURORA had switched to decaffeinated tea around eight o’clock. Plus they’d raided the pantry and refrigerator for samples of desserts brought by well-meaning friends today. And between them they’d managed to make a dent in Aurora’s expensive bottle of brandy.
“I don’t know about you, Carrie, but this cherry cheesecake is hard to top.”
“Speak for yourself, Aurora. I’m sticking with chocolate mousse pie.”
“We can’t give up now, dear. There are at least a half dozen cakes and pies we haven’t tried yet.”
Carrie smiled. “Between all the tea we drank and all the sugar we’re consuming, neither of us will sleep tonight.”
“I don’t mind,” Aurora said. “Sleep is overrated.”
Carrying their plates, they went back to the kitchen to scavenger for more sweets. Aurora set a few dishes on her long farm table. “I’m sorry it took such a sad occurrence for us to become friends,” she said. “I’m so grateful to have had the opportunity to get to know you better.” She scooped a chunk of blueberry cobbler onto Carrie’s plate.
“I know,” Carrie said. “But I feel like I’ve known you for my entire life. My sisters told me they think of you as family.”
“As I do them.”
“And you’ve helped them with their problems. You were so kind to Lizzie and Alex, and it was you who talked Jude into going back to the hospital to see Liam. I don’t know if either one of them would have found their happy endings if it weren’t for you.”
“I wish I could do the same for you, Carrie, but your man sounds like a difficult fix.”
Carrie sighed. “He is, and I absolutely must stop thinking about him. It has been four days and not a word. He was due to leave today, and I’m sure he’s no longer in the country by now.”
“You’ll meet someone, or maybe when this young man returns...”
“I won’t count on that,” Carrie said. “I told you a bit about my past with men. Someday I’ll fill in the details, pitiful as they are, but Keegan was different. I sensed from the very beginning that I could trust him. He didn’t make demands or act disappointed when he didn’t get his way.”
Carrie sat at the kitchen table and pushed her plate of cobbler away. “I really doubt that I’ll find that kind of connection again, Aurora. Keegan erased practically all my doubts and fears. With him I would have, I wanted to...” She sighed deeply. “It doesn’t matter now.”
She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh, my, it’s almost nine thirty. You must be exhausted, Aurora. And my family must be wondering when I’ll be home.” She stood. “I’ll just grab my coat.”
A knock at the front door halted all further discussion.
“Who could that be at this hour?” Aurora said.
“Do you have someone scheduled as a late check-in?”
“No. Some skiers are coming tomorrow but no one tonight. You stay here, dear, and I’ll check it out.”
“No way am I staying here. We’ll go together. It’s probably just my father, but in case it’s not, there is safety in numbers.”
Carrie locked her arm with Aurora’s and smiled. Did she imagine the sparkle in Aurora’s eyes when she mentioned that the caller might be Martin?
When they reached the front door, Aurora peeked out the leaded-glass side panel. “I don’t recognize him.”
“Hello!” a familiar voice called. “I’m looking for Carrie Foster. Is she here?”
Carrie’s heart stopped beating for a few wonderful, terrifying seconds. She clasped her hand over her mouth and spoke through trembling fingers. “It’s him. It’s Keegan.”
“Well, my goodness, will wonders never cease?” Aurora started to open the door.
“No, wait!” Carrie said. “I’m not ready to see him. I don’t know why he’s here. And then there’s my mother’s funeral today. And I’ve probably had too much of your brandy.” She began trembling and grabbed hold of an antique hall stand to steady herself. “It’s too much.”
“Hello!” Keegan called again.
“I can’t just leave him out there, Carrie,” Aurora said. “It’s cold outside. And besides, he saw me looking out.”
Carrie took a deep breath. Her next words came out of her mouth at a speed she didn’t think possible. “Give me a minute. I don’t think he saw me. I’ll run to the kitchen. You can open the door, tell him I’m not here. Tell him I went away and you don’t know where.”
Aurora gave her a look that was part sympathy and part exasperation. “Carrie...”
But Carrie was already across the room and heading for the kitchen. She shut the door all but a crack and gave in to the temptation to listen.
Aurora opened the door. “How can I help you?” she said.
“My name is Keegan Breen,” he said. “I’m a friend of Carrie’s. I’m aware that it’s late, and because of the events of the day, this may not be a good time, but someone in her father’s household told me Carrie might be here. I really need to speak to her.”
Carrie heard the subtle creak of the door as Aurora opened it more fully.
“Come in, young man. You need to warm up.”
He stomped his shoes on her mat. “Thank you. So...”
“Yes, Carrie and I were visiting this evening.”
“Were?” Keegan said. “Do you mean she’s no longer here?”
What would Aurora say? She prided herself on being a good friend to the Foster daughters, but she’d also made it known that she did not approve of lying. Her ex-husband and son had lied to her too often and she was vehemently honest now.
> “To tell you the truth,” Aurora began, “I don’t know if she’s still here or not.”
“Her car is out front,” Keegan stated bluntly.
Aurora chuckled nervously. “Then I suppose she’s still here. Why don’t you come into the parlor and warm up? I’ll see if I can find her.”
“Thank you.”
Carrie listened to the rustle of fabric as Keegan lowered himself into one of Aurora’s comfortable chairs.
Five seconds later Aurora bustled into the kitchen. “What are you waiting for, Carrie? He’s here. He wants to see you.”
Carrie shifted from one foot to the other. “I don’t know,” she said. “What if it’s something terrible? What if he forgot to tell me one of the reasons why it would never work for us, and he came here to make sure I understood? My history with men... I’ve always believed one thing and it turned out to be something completely opposite. At least now I’m beginning to adjust to being without Keegan. I don’t think I could bear it if he came to break my heart again.”
Aurora pulled out the kitchen chair Carrie had been using and told her to sit. “I’ve just seen this man, dear, and he looks as nervous as you do...”
Nervous? Keegan?
“He doesn’t look at all like a man who came here to send you farther away from him. He looks like a man who realizes his mistake and regrets it with his whole heart.”
“Oh, Aurora,” Carrie said. “How can you possibly tell that by just looking at him?”
“Because I look at more than the eye can see,” she said. “I look inside.”
“But this has been such a horrible week, such a reminder to me that my instincts are so often wrong, and I’m doomed never to find happiness.”
Aurora smiled.
“Why are you smiling?”
“I thought Lizzie was the one studying drama in this family. Come to find out, you’re not bad at playing the downtrodden heroine yourself.”
Slightly offended, Carrie sat straight in the chair. “Aurora! If you knew my past with men...”
Rescued by Mr. Wrong Page 21
