by Jen Gilroy
“Your mom’s real excited about your brother’s wedding.” He changed the subject with an effort. “She says it’s so romantic that Nick and Mia are getting married on New Year’s Eve.”
“Yes.” Cat smiled, and damn if the soft curve of her rosy lips didn’t take Luc’s thoughts right back to where they had no business going. “It’s great to see Mom so happy, and Nick and Mia, too. With Mia, it’s like I’m getting another sister.”
“Nick’s been a good friend to me.” And that was even more reason why Luc shouldn’t think about Cat like he’d been thinking about her. A guy didn’t have those kinds of thoughts about a buddy’s little sister.
Luc dragged his gaze away from Cat’s mouth to stare at the frost-fringed office window. The tall pine trees outside were etched in white, and the open field behind the arena slept in a blanket of snow as it sloped in a gentle hill to the shore of the ice-covered lake. In the distance, wisps of wood smoke curled from chimneys in the small town of Firefly Lake cradled between the dark-green Vermont hills.
Home, family, and community. Everything Luc needed to get his life stable and back on track was right here. Apart from his wife and professional hockey, everything he’d ever wanted was here, too.
“The uniform’s great.” Amy’s excited voice brought him back to the present. “Does Mom need to fill out some forms and pay?”
“Yeah, she does.” Luc’s voice hitched.
“While I do that, why don’t you go out to the rink?” Cat dug in her tote and pulled out a folded bill. “You can get yourself a hot chocolate and watch the figure skating practice.”
“Mom.” Amy made a disgusted face. “Figure skating’s for girlie girls.”
“Before she switched to hockey, my wife started out as a figure skater.” Luc pushed the words out through lips that were all of a sudden numb. When it came to sports, Maggie had been as driven as him and as competitive. Between his failings and hers, he hadn’t been with her when she needed him most. “My mom was a figure skater, too. You have to be real fit to do those routines. Unlike in hockey, you aren’t wearing gear to protect you from falls, either.”
“Sure, but you’d never get me into one of those costumes.” Amy gave him a dimpled grin. “I had to wear sequins for a school play once. I never itched so much in my whole entire life. Can you imagine skating in one of those outfits?”
“Nope.” The force of Amy’s smile kept the memories at bay and, despite himself, Luc managed a smile back. “Go on, we won’t be long.”
“Okay.” With another grin, Amy took the bill from Cat and tucked it into the front pocket of her jeans.
When Amy had left, shutting the office door behind her, Luc turned back to Cat. There was no mistaking the sympathy in her eyes.
“It must be hard to talk about your wife. Amy’s still a kid, so she doesn’t think before she speaks.”
“Life goes on.” His voice caught again. Maybe it did for everyone else, but his life had stopped two years ago. Although he went through the motions and did what his family and everyone expected, the biggest part of him was numb. Until today, he’d been fine with that numbness. Then Cat had poked through it with her big blue eyes and a smile that was like a warm hug on a cold day. He cleared his throat. “What’s up?”
“Nothing… I…” She fiddled with the strap of her bag. “Until my grant money comes through after New Year’s, money’s a bit tight. Amy needs new skates, and with our move, the holidays, and the wedding and all, I wondered… can I buy a secondhand pair anywhere?”
Luc’s throat closed as guilt needled him. If money was that tight, Cat and Amy should be staying at Harbor House, rent-free. Except they weren’t, and he couldn’t shake a sense it had something to do with him.
“Len’s Hardware on Main sells used gear, but it goes fast.” Although there was money in Firefly Lake, folks were thrifty New Englanders who could sniff out a bargain at twenty paces.
“Oh.” She pulled out her checkbook. “Amy will have to make do—”
“Hang on.” He stood and came around the desk to sit beside her in the chair Amy had vacated. “I can wait for the hockey registration fee. Put that money toward new skates instead. Len sells those, too, and he gives a discount to local kids. Show him Amy’s paperwork so she’ll qualify.” In the meantime, he’d square the registration fee with the arena manager. Cat would never have to know.
“Really?” Cat’s cheeks reddened. “That would be great. I don’t want to ask my mom or Nick. They’d both help me out, no question, but…” She gripped her bag and slid down in the chair.
Luc’s heart squeezed. She was embarrassed to ask her family for help, like he’d have been embarrassed asking his. Except, that would never be an issue because he had more money than he could spend in one lifetime. Money to finance the creamery expansion his dad had talked about for years, and to send his folks on that cruise they’d hankered after but could never afford because of the cost of raising four kids and putting most of them through college. Money for everything except what mattered most— taking care of his wife and their child like he’d planned.
“Pay for the hockey registration when your grant comes through.” He tried to smile. “I know you’re good for it.”
“Thanks.” Cat’s voice cracked and she took one hand away from her bag to rub it across her face. “Hockey means everything to Amy. I want her to be able to play, but she’s growing so fast right now.”
“Hockey’s an expensive sport.” He slid an arm around her shoulders and gave her a little squeeze. The same kind of friendly squeeze he’d given her all those times back in high school when she’d saved his butt in chemistry. Before today, however, his fingers had never tingled when he’d touched Cat. His body had never heated, either.
Cat started and pulled away at the same instant he did. “Hockey can be a dangerous sport, too, and now Amy will be playing with boys. She hasn’t played with boys since she was seven. She could get hurt.”
Like he had, hurt so bad it had ended his career. “Amy’s playing minor hockey. At her age, there is a rule about no body checking.” He tried to make his tone reassuring. “I promise I’ll keep a close eye on her.” It was his job as her coach, and he’d do the same for any kid. It had nothing to do with the strange and unexpected attraction he all of a sudden had for this woman he’d known his whole life, whom he’d never really looked at until today.
A woman who wasn’t Maggie. Luc’s stomach clenched in a tangled lump of guilt and grief, tied tight with a slippery ribbon of disloyalty. Maggie was never coming back, but that didn’t mean Luc could forget her. Or that he wanted to.
Chapter Two
Cat pressed the bell-shaped cookie cutter into the rolled-out dough and reminded herself to breathe. It was only her third day back in Firefly Lake. Once Nick and Mia’s wedding was over and she and Amy were more settled, life would be normal again. At least a new version of normal.
“Who’d have thought we’d end the year with a wedding?” From the scrubbed pine table in Harbor House’s spacious country kitchen, her mom gestured with a wooden spoon. “I can’t remember the last time I was so excited. When did my whole family ever come here for New Year’s?”
“I don’t know.” Cat replaced the bell with a cutter shaped like a wedding dress. “When I was a kid, maybe.” Before her dad had left and hadn’t come back. Her chest got tight. As soon as she finished this last batch of cookies, she could go home for a few hours before the wedding rehearsal. If she was in her own little apartment, despite the boxes still piled everywhere, she wouldn’t feel so on edge, caught up in a vortex of memories as relentless as mosquitoes in a Vermont summer.
“What if your aunt forgets to bring the necklace with her?” Her mom’s blue eyes were worried. “It’s not like she’ll have enough time to drive all the way back to Montreal to get it at the last minute.”
“You already texted her twice this morning, but if you want, Amy and I could meet her at the Canadian border to make sure she h
as it.” And if she was driving the road north, Cat could try to pretend for a few hours that her problems were far behind her. However, although being in Firefly Lake made her remember things she’d vowed to forget, those things were rooted in life, not geography. No matter how far or how long she drove, she couldn’t escape them.
Her mom’s laugh rippled out. “You always were my helpful girl.” She joined Cat beside the wooden pastry board made by an uncle many generations removed. “I want everything to be perfect for Nick and Mia. Every bride in my family, since your great-grandmother’s day, has worn that pearl necklace.”
“The wedding will be perfect, and Mia will look beautiful with or without the necklace.” Cat wrapped an arm around her mom’s thin shoulders. “For all Nick cares, Mia could wear a T-shirt and yoga pants to marry him.”
Her mom laughed again. “Thankfully, Mia has more sense. She’s like another daughter to me, and I’ve never been able to help plan a wedding for one of you kids before.” Her mom put a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry. Not that you… you know what I mean.”
“It’s okay. Marriage isn’t my thing, but it is for Nick.” And Cat would be there for her big brother like he’d always been there for her. “Maybe someday Georgia will settle down and give you a chance to be a mother of the bride.”
Her mom’s expression was wry. “I doubt your sister will ever settle down or do anything as conventional as get married, but seeing your brother so happy is a dream come true. As is having you and Amy in Firefly Lake, although I still don’t see why the two of you can’t stay here with me, at least until you find your feet. Even if Georgia sticks around for a while, this house is more than big enough for all of you. Ward travels so much he isn’t here for more than a few weeks at a time. And Luc’s so quiet, you’d hardly know he’s around.”
Cat bit her lower lip and sprinkled flour across the board. She liked Ward, her mom’s partner, but it would still be weird to live in the same house with him. As for Luc, her mom was wrong. Thanks to that hyperawareness she’d always had where he was concerned, she’d know exactly where he was. As Amy’s coach, she’d already see way too much of him. She didn’t need to bump into him on her way to brush her teeth or when making a cup of tea.
“It’s not you, or Ward, or Luc. Amy and I need our own place, that’s all. Besides, I need a space where I can work.” She gripped the rolling pin to stop her hands from shaking. She was a grown-up. Although she loved her mom and didn’t want to disappoint her, if she moved back to Harbor House, a part of her might become that little girl she’d worked so hard to leave behind.
“I understand.” Her mom gave her a sad smile before she slid the sheet of cookies Cat had cut out into the oven. “Are you sure Amy doesn’t want to be a junior bridesmaid? She’d look so sweet in one of those pink dresses Mia chose for her girls.” Her voice brightened. “Mia ordered one in Amy’s size in case she changed her mind.”
Cat bit back a sigh. “Amy’s happy handling the guest book. It would’ve been a battle to get her into any dress, unless it somehow incorporated a hockey jersey.” If only she understood Amy better, she could help her more, but she didn’t, and most of the time she was parenting by trial and error. By the time she figured out what Amy needed, her daughter had moved on and there was a new challenge.
“Girls of Amy’s age need to be able to make some of their own decisions. It gives them confidence. That’s how I tried to raise you and your sister, anyway.” Her mom’s expression was hesitant.
“You were a great mom to us. You still are. I should tell you so more often.” Cat’s voice hitched. Although she was doing fine now, her mom’s cancer diagnosis had rocked their family to the core and reshaped it into a new pattern. A better one, though, because although Cat still ached with the knowledge of what she could have lost, for the first time in years she and her brother and sister were really talking to each other, as well as to their mom.
“You have a lot of years left to tell me.” Her mom’s eyes twinkled beneath the soft waves of silver hair that brushed her eyebrows. “I’m going to call your aunt. Josette has always been scatterbrained. If she doesn’t put that necklace in her purse while I’m talking to her, I’ll be sending you to the border for me for sure.”
After the kitchen door shut behind her mother with a gentle whoosh, Cat looked out the window above the counter into the winter wonderland beyond. It had snowed again overnight, and the trees near the house were gowned in white like a quartet of statuesque brides. She shivered and turned back to check the oven temperature. She could handle living in Firefly Lake again for a little while. And no matter how long it took, she was here for Amy and her mom, too.
The back door banged open and frosty air whirled into the kitchen. “Gabrielle? I went out to the tree farm and got those spruce wreaths for the church doors. I left them on the porch until… oh, Cat.” Luc’s cheeks were tinged red with cold, and he stamped his snowy boots on the mat inside the door.
“Mom went to make a phone call. She should be back soon.” The timer dinged, and Cat grabbed a pair of oven mitts. “Amy took Pixie for a walk, and Nick’s in Burlington picking up Georgia from the airport.”
Too much information. Georgia, the baby of the family, was the chatterbox, while Cat had always been the quiet middle child. She shut her mouth fast, then opened the oven door and bent to slide out the cookie sheet to hide her face.
Luc pulled off his boots and slung his parka on a kitchen chair before he padded across the kitchen toward her in his sock feet. “It sure smells good in here.”
Cat’s stomach flipped and she fumbled with the cookies. A wedding bell slid off to land on the tiled floor.
“Oops.” Luc scooped it up and ate it. “Five-second rule.”
“These cookies are for the wedding rehearsal party.” Cat moved cooling racks aside to make space for the new batch.
“Oh, sorry.” Luc gave her a smile that was a little bit rueful and way too endearing. The same smile he’d given her all those years ago when he’d sat on her Care Bear at playgroup. The pink Cheer Bear that had gone everywhere with her and helped her to look on the bright side, no matter what.
“It’s too bad your folks are away.” She lifted cookies off the sheet with a spatula, giving the simple task more concentration than it needed.
“Yeah, inconsiderate of my sister to give birth in the middle of the holidays, wasn’t it?” His laugh rumbled before he sobered. “Mom’s sad about missing the wedding, but nothing can compete with her first grandbaby. She and Dad were on a plane heading to San Francisco almost as soon as my sister went into labor. Mom’s wanted to be a grandmother for years.”
“So I hear.” Like Cat’s mom wanted more grandchildren, and Cat wasn’t in a position to give them to her. Her heart compressed as she put the last cookie on a rack, ready to join the feast of treats her mom and Mia, her sister-in-law to be, had been baking for days. Not only sugar cookies but oatmeal chews, brownies, Scottish shortbread, and her favorite sweet maple bars made with her mémère’s Quebec recipe.
“It must be tough being a single mom.” Luc picked up a dirty mixing bowl and rinsed it in the sink.
“I’ve never not been one.” She gave what she hoped was a nonchalant shrug. “I had a good example in my mom.” And like her mom, she’d made the best of things because she’d had no choice.
“Still, the way you juggled classes and earned all those degrees along with caring for Amy can’t have been easy.” He turned off the tap and started loading the dishwasher. “I bet you’re the first person from our high school to get a PhD, let alone from Harvard. That’s huge.”
Except, books had been Cat’s escape from the real world. Unlike people, books were safe, and maybe she’d studied history because everything had already happened and couldn’t be changed. It couldn’t hurt her, either.
She manufactured a smile. “Aren’t you the first person from Firefly Lake to make it as a professional athlete? That’s huge too.” Amy couldn’t stop talk
ing about how Luc would be coaching her, a guy who’d played Olympic hockey, like her daughter dreamed of doing.
“All I ever did was shoot a puck across a sheet of ice.” Luc’s arm brushed her side as he moved away from the dishwasher, and heat flashed through Cat’s body. “Not like you. You’re a teacher and you write about important things and important people. I bet you know more about the history of Vermont women than anyone. That’s our history, my family and yours.”
“You read that newspaper article, didn’t you?”
“It was hard to miss.” He gave her that smile again that turned her insides to mush and made her forget about scholarly things. “Especially since your mom cut it out and framed it. You didn’t see it there on the living room mantel?”
Cat shook her head. “I came in through the back door.”
The article had taken up half a page in the Kincaid Examiner, the newspaper in the town twenty miles away that also covered Firefly Lake news. As well as talking about the research grant and pretty much everything she’d ever done in school from first grade on, the article had featured a picture of her in her academic robes when she’d been awarded her PhD. Why had her mom shared that particular picture with the reporter? All Luc and everyone else would see was that Cat McGuire was still the brain box she’d always been—still the girl who didn’t fit in at Firefly Lake.
“Your mom’s proud of you. As for your job, you’re lucky. You can do it for as long as you want to.” His smile slipped away.
She could if only she could find something permanent and didn’t have to rely on temporary contracts. “I guess so.”
