Strangers When We Meet

by Marisa Carroll

  “I got the impression from your grandfather that you were here to meet someone a little closer than a friend. I think he said a fiancé.”

  Emma sighed. Leave it to her grandfather to make sure Blake knew she was off-limits. He was so protective of her. “Not officially...yet. Do you mind? I’d rather not talk about it.” How could she explain to this man, this stranger, that she had decided to call an end to her involvement with Daryl merely because she had seen him with another woman in a restaurant? It sounded ridiculous even to her own ears. But she couldn’t help herself.

  “No one wants to talk about a love affair that’s gone bad, including me. But that didn’t stop you from asking me what happened to mine this morning.”

  Her gaze flew to meet his. “You didn’t tell me what happened,” she reminded him. “Not in detail, anyway. I think I should be able to expect the same courtesy from you.”

  “I found her with another man in my living room.”

  “That doesn’t sound so terrible.” A more intimate setting than a neighborhood restaurant, she’d grant him that. But had her hand been resting on his arm? Had her eyes been locked to his as though they were the only two people in the room—

  “She was stark naked.” Blake’s clipped words cut into her thoughts.

  “Oh, heavens. I’m...I don’t know what to say.” She would have, though, if he’d called her show. She would have had an answer ready a heartbeat after he’d finished speaking. But this was different. He was standing beside her, and the pain and hurt pride were just as visible on his face as they were in his tone. She could feel the tension in him, and she ached, too. The realization, the proximity erased the distance she needed to be objective, dried up the source of her thoughts and rendered her speechless.

  “There’s not much more to say, is there. It’s hard to explain a scene like that.”

  “Did she try—” His brow furrowed, and she realized how silly the remark sounded. “I mean...did you give her a chance? It might have been a moment of weakness....” She let the words trail off. What moment of weakness could justify betraying the person you professed to love in such a way? “You didn’t just walk away?”

  “We talked. After I threw the guy out on his ear.”

  “But you didn’t believe what she told you?”

  Blake laced his hands in front of him on the parapet. They were big hands, tanned, with strong wrists and lean forearms sprinkled with dark hair. His nails were clean but clipped short, as though he did a lot of physical labor. Not at all the kind of hands you’d expect to see on a Wall Street corporate shark. “She explained, all right. In her world these things happen all the time. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything, and if I hadn’t come home unexpectedly, I would never have known about it. She didn’t say it wouldn’t happen again. She can’t understand why I was so upset. She thinks it’s my provincial upbringing.” He gave a rough snort of laughter. “My upbringing was anything but conventional. My parents are the last of the die-hard hippies. They live in a commune in Florida. They eat bean sprouts and tofu and wear all-natural fibers. But they’ve always been faithful to each other. And that’s what I expect from the woman I love.”

  “You still love her, don’t you?”

  Blake was silent for a long time. The sounds of cars going by on the main road could be heard in the distance. A tractor engine roared to life in the barn beyond the meadow that bordered the stream. At the edge of town, the church bell rang out, announcing the noon hour. Emma waited, her eyes narrowed against the sparkle of sunlight on the water. “I don’t know,” he said at last.

  “That’s how I feel, too,” Emma whispered, as much to herself as to the man beside her.

  “What did he do to you, Emma?” Blake asked quietly. She watched as a car drove up the winding lane to Twin Oaks. There was lettering on the side, dark green, discreet. Although it was too far away for her to read from where she was standing, she recognized it immediately. It was Daryl’s car. He was coming for her. She felt a shiver of apprehension slip across her skin. She wasn’t ready for this. She turned her head away and stared over the brown and gold hills, capped with the green of cedar and pine, that rose above the town.

  “Nothing as terrible as what happened to you. I found him having dinner with a woman, and he hadn’t told me he was going to be in the city that night. Nothing more sinister than that. But there was something about the way he was looking at her...something about the way she touched the sleeve of his coat, the way her hair brushed his shoulder. She was all silver and shimmer—” She heard what she was saying and shut her mouth with a snap.

  “Good grief, how maudlin I must sound.” She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “The long and short of it is, I don’t trust him now. I may be overreacting, but I can’t help it. I don’t want to announce our engagement this weekend. I need time to sort out my feelings. And that’s what I intend to tell him the minute I walk through the door of Twin Oaks.” She nodded toward the man walking up to the house.

  Blake turned his head to follow her gaze. “That’s him?” he asked, a sharpness in his deep voice she hadn’t heard before.

  She nodded. “That’s him.”

  “Berkshire Realty.” His eyesight was much better than hers if he could read the lettering on Daryl’s car from this distance.

  “Yes. He owns the business. He has a branch office here in Cooper’s Corner. It’s his home town. His parents own the diner with the wonderful cider doughnuts. His main office is in Williamstown, though. He doesn’t live here anymore—”

  “What’s his name?” Blake asked, interrupting her without apology.

  “Daryl,” she said, surprised by the abruptness of his tone. “Daryl Tubb. Do you know him?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THERE WAS NO ONE around except for Maureen and Daryl when Emma came through the front door of Twin Oaks a few minutes later. Blake had left her at the bridge, explaining he wanted to walk into the hills and clear the last vestiges of champagne fumes from his brain.

  He’d denied ever meeting Daryl, and he sounded sincere, but something nagged at Emma. There had been a tightness around his mouth and in his tone that made her wonder. Hadn’t he said he’d found Cooper’s Corner while looking for property in the area? Berkshire Realty was the premier real estate firm in the county. Daryl had clients in New York and Boston. Wealthy men and their wives and girlfriends. She’d carried the familiar doubts with her to the bed and breakfast, growing angry with herself—and Daryl.

  “Hi, there,” Daryl said, coming toward her. He gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He took a step back but still held on to her hand, regarding her warily. She hadn’t seen him since the night of the incident in the restaurant. They’d talked on the phone, but she’d avoided being alone with him. He’d been astute enough to recognize how deeply hurt she was, and kept his distance. “I didn’t expect you this early. God, I’ve missed you.”

  His smile was genuine and infectious, as always. Emma couldn’t help but smile back, though her heart was troubled, and the tiny seed of conjecture that had germinated after Blake’s reaction to Daryl’s arrival continued to grow.

  “I couldn’t sleep so I got up early and beat the weekend traffic out of the city. How did you know I was here?”

  “Mom gave me a call. Said she could have sworn she saw you walk past the Village Green with some guy an hour or so ago.” He was still smiling, but the smile didn’t reach to his honey brown eyes. “What was that all about?”

  “A mission of mercy,” Emma said, and let it go at that.

  Daryl took the hint. He was trying very hard to make things right between them, Emma knew. “You should have called me on your cell phone. I would have met you here for breakfast.”

  “Then I wouldn’t have been able to rescue Mr. Weston from his hangover. And, actually, I left my cell phone back in the city
. I’m on vacation, remember?”

  Maureen had been making notations in a large book at the front desk. She looked at Emma and Daryl. “Would you like Clint to fix you a box lunch? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

  “I promised Mom we’d eat at the diner with her and Dad,” Daryl informed the two women. “That’s okay with you, isn’t it?”

  It wasn’t okay, but Emma didn’t say so. She had no desire to air their problems in front of their friend. “That’s fine.”

  “Your room’s ready,” Maureen said, “if you want to freshen up a bit. It’s number four. The one you like best.” She picked up an old-fashioned brass key and handed it to Emma, her face carefully neutral. If Maureen had sensed the tension between Emma and Daryl, she didn’t let on.

  “We’ll see you for tea, then.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it.” Emma hoped her smile didn’t look as shaky as she felt.

  She could feel the strain in Daryl as they walked toward his car. He pulled her into his arms and leaned against the door, holding her loosely. “I’ve missed you.” She didn’t pull away but raised her hands to his chest to keep a small distance between them.

  “I’m not ready to go back to the way we were, Daryl. I’ve told you that more than once these last couple of weeks.” She gave a little push against him, and reluctantly he let her go.

  “How long do I have to do penance for taking a woman to dinner without telling you about it? It was a business meeting, for God’s sake.”

  When he put it that way, it made her feel small and petty, but it didn’t dispel the nagging sense of distrust that ate at her. “You lied to me, Daryl. That’s what hurts.”

  “You caught me off guard. I was afraid you’d think there was more to it, that’s all.” He raked a hand through his razor-cut brown hair. “I don’t always think straight when I’m around you.” It was as close to admitting he’d lied as he’d come so far. When he reached for her again, she stepped out of his way. “I’m sorry, Emma. It won’t happen again. How much longer are you going to keep me at arm’s length?”

  Emma assessed Daryl silently for a moment. He was wearing khakis and a wool sport coat over a gold-brown sweater that matched his eyes. He looked tan and fit, though his face was a little too round to be called classically handsome and his hair was thinning a bit on top. To his credit he wasn’t vain enough to wear a toupee, but then he didn’t need to. Daryl Tubb had charisma enough for two men. Everyone liked him. He liked everyone. It was one of the qualities that had drawn Emma to him in the first place.

  She considered his question. It was a reasonable one, if she believed the dinner had been completely innocent. But he hadn’t convinced her. Not yet. And she was honest enough to admit she could no longer trust her feelings where Daryl was concerned. ‘’Till I get my head straight,” she replied at last.

  He remained silent on the short drive into town. They parked in front of his parents’ diner, and he helped Emma out of the car and shut the door behind her. “I haven’t told Mom and Dad about this little rough patch we’re going through,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t quite know how to explain it.”

  Emma sighed. Her heart felt like a weight in her chest. “I haven’t said anything to my grandparents, either. But, Daryl, please. Don’t bring up engagement plans.”

  “I won’t,” he said, looking grim. “But I can’t guarantee my mom won’t launch into the subject.”

  Emma was afraid of that, too. Why couldn’t she just forgive and forget? Daryl held out his hand, his brown eyes pleading, and she didn’t have the heart to deny him. She let him fold her hand in his. His fingers were warm to the touch, but that was all. There was no spark, no connection. At least the anger was gone, if only for the moment, and she was grateful for that. It would make facing Daryl’s mom and dad a little easier.

  “Emma,” Lori Tubb sang out from behind the counter, where she was directing the operation of the grill. “It was you I saw on the other side of the green.”

  Emma leaned across the counter for a hug. Daryl’s mother was a small woman, only a couple of inches over five feet, with a round figure from years of eating her own good cooking. “Burt,” she called out over the background noise of a dozen customers and staff, “come say hello. I told you I wasn’t seeing things. Emma’s here with Daryl.”

  Burt Tubb stuck his head around the corner of the small bar nestled at the back of the building. He was round, too, and bald, with a good-natured face and a ready smile. Emma had always imagined that was how Daryl would look in thirty years. “Hello, Emma. We’ve missed you these past weeks.”

  “It’s good to see you both again.” With a wave, he disappeared back into his favored domain.

  The decor of Tubb’s Café was seriously retro, black and white tile floors, gray Formica tabletops, red vinyl covers on the chairs and stools that lined the long counter. And a real jukebox filled with records from the fifties in an alcove along the far wall.

  Today the diner’s tables were half empty. It was the beginning of the slow season for Cooper’s Corner. The leaf peepers—the tourists who came to see the spectacular change of color in the hills surrounding the town—were mostly gone, and it would be several weeks before the ski season got into high gear. Lori took off her apron and came around the counter. She gave her youngest son a hug. “Sit. Both of you. What’ll you have? Yankee pot roast is the special today. I’ve saved two servings.”

  “Sounds great, Mom. But easy on the gravy. I’ve put on a pound or two the last few weeks.”

  Emma wasn’t hungry but she didn’t let on. There was a friendly rivalry springing up between the diner and Maureen and Clint’s bed and breakfast, even though Twin Oaks only served breakfast to guests and afternoon tea. It would be a real faux pas to say she’d eaten too many of Clint’s griddle cakes to do justice to Lori’s cooking. Emma stifled a small sigh. She would probably gain five pounds over the next week.

  Daryl’s mother served them and then dropped into one of the empty seats at the table. “I’ve been meaning to call your grandmother and check with her on plans for this weekend,” she said, watching Emma eat with an eagle eye.

  “We haven’t made any,” Emma said, swallowing a mouthful of succulent beef. She took another bite, stalling for time to find the right words, hoping against hope that Daryl would step in and rescue her. But he remained silent, concentrating on cutting a potato into bite-size pieces.

  “Good. Let’s plan on dinner Sunday night. Daryl’s oldest brother, Mark—you’ve met him, haven’t you?” Emma nodded. “I thought so. Well, both he and his sister Rosalie are coming up for a few days. I thought it would be nice if we were all together for the announcement.”

  Emma kicked Daryl under the table. He dropped his fork. “That’s great, Mom. But you know what monsters Mark’s kids are. And Rosalie will bring those damned poodles of hers—”

  Rosalie was Daryl’s oldest sister. She was a nursing administrator in Philadelphia and had never married. She had three tiny, yapping dogs and they were the loves of her life. Emma felt another sigh welling inside her. If she married Daryl, she would have something she’d always wanted, a big extended family. Daryl had four older brothers and sisters and eight small nieces and nephews. None of them lived in Cooper’s Corner any longer, but they visited often, and most, if not all, were around for summer vacations and major holiday celebrations.

  Emma loved her parents and her grandparents deeply, but she had always wanted brothers and sisters, a big family. Maybe that was part of the reason she’d fallen so hard and so fast for Daryl. He had all those things, and if she married him, she would have them, too.

  “We aren’t announcing our engagement this week,” Emma heard herself say. The words had tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. Obviously they’d been trapped behind the lump in her throat for too long and they were determined to fight their way to fre
edom.

  “Why not?” Daryl’s mother looked at her, then at Daryl, her eyes narrowed, the corners of her generous mouth pulled down in a slight frown. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, Mom.” Daryl didn’t sound convincing to Emma, and not to his mother, either, it seemed. He dropped his gaze and went back to cutting up his potato. Lori folded her arms on the table and continued to stare at Daryl.

  “Something’s wrong. Not two weeks ago you were telling me you’d already picked out a ring and set a date.”

  They hadn’t set a date, not a specific one, anyway. They’d only talked of a summer wedding at the local church. And that was before Emma had stumbled on him with the silvery-haired woman in their favorite restaurant. And he’d never given her a ring. Had he lied about that to his mother the way he’d lied to her? What did that say about his character? On the other hand, what if he had chosen a ring? Would a man who was being unfaithful spend money on an engagement ring? And what kind of woman would accept it if he did? Those were the questions that kept popping into her mind. And until she found acceptable answers for them, she wasn’t marrying Daryl or agreeing to set a date.

  “It’s because of Emma’s job,” Daryl was saying. “She’s got a lot on her mind right now.” He gave her one of his great smiles, but his brown eyes were pleading, and his fingers shook slightly when he covered her hand with his.

  Lori sat up a little straighter. She wiped at a dribble of water on the tabletop with the corner of a towel she had thrown over her shoulder. “What about your job, Emma? I thought you would be trying to find work here. There are several radio stations in the area, you know.”