"Miss MacGuire? Are you all right?" the chauffeur asked.
Tessa shook her head. She wasn't all right. Maybe it would be better to leave now, before anyone knew she was here. She could go back to the airport and call Mr. Beckett, make up a story, something. She'd been gone so long. Who really needed her now?
* * *
Sam walked into his childhood bedroom and smiled at the sight of his daughter lying in twisted covers on the same twin bed he'd slept on as a child. Megan's curls were as tangled as the sheets, her face as pink as a blooming rose, her dark lashes sweeping against her cheeks in the gentle motion of sleep.
At least one of them was at peace, he thought, remembering the night before. For long, tense hours he and Alli had been at the hospital, watching Phoebe MacGuire struggle to come back from a stroke, the damage from which they still had yet to determine.
It wasn't fair. Phoebe shouldn't be in the hospital and Megan shouldn't be asleep on his old bed. She should be at home, in the house he and Alli had bought together, and so should he. At least Alli had let him keep Megan for the night, instead of fighting to take her home.
It was funny, but whenever he thought of Alli, he saw a lioness, fighting for what she wanted, for those she loved. She'd fought for him, tooth and nail, down and dirty, willing to risk everything and everyone. So why wasn't she fighting now? Had she really stopped loving him after so many years? Had she really stopped caring?
He should be glad, he told himself. Hadn't he felt smothered by her never-ending crush on him? Hadn't he paid the price of his freedom, his future, because of her reckless, relentless love?
He knew it wasn't fair to blame it all on Alli. He'd been there that night all those years ago. He'd drunk too much that Christmas, realizing for the first time in his life that he was nowhere near as important to Tessa as she was to him. If he had been, she would have come home with him instead of going to Aspen for a modeling job. The realization had scared the shit out of him. Without Tessa, he didn't know who he was, and stupidly he'd thought he'd somehow figure it all out by having sex with Alli.
He regretted a lot of things about that night, but the one thing he wouldn't regret was this child sleeping before him. Leaning over, Sam pulled a stray curl off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. Megan's breathing didn't even catch. She was fast asleep. She didn't have to be at summer school for another hour, and he'd already asked Gary to take his early morning fishing trip out, so they had some time.
Sam walked downstairs and into the kitchen, stopping short at the sight of the dirty dishes. The counter was as messy as his life. Megan was upstairs, sleeping in the wrong bed. Phoebe was in the hospital, Alli was paralyzed with worry, and Tessa was coming home. Nothing was normal, and he had a feeling it wouldn't be for some time. But his father had once told him that a man took care of his family first and himself second, and that's what Sam intended to do.
* * *
Tessa walked onto the back deck and stared at her grandmother's gardens and the wide green lawn that spread across the rest of the yard, sheltered by the branches of a massive oak tree. As she stared at the gnarly old trunk, Tessa felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. Could it be? Was it possible?
She bounded down the steps, suddenly filled with energy, with wonder. She stopped at the base of the tree and looked up. It was still there, battered, weathered wood tucked into the branches. A haven. A refuge. A treehouse.
The steps were pieces of board hammered into the trunk of the tree. She could remember handing Sam the nails while he flexed his thirteen-year-old muscles and tried to impress her with every swing of the hammer. At the time, she'd been far more interested in getting to the top of that tree.
On impulse she stepped closer. It would be silly to climb the tree. She knew that. She was a twenty-nine-year-old woman, for heaven's sake, but as she looked up at the shimmer of sunshine peeking through the branches, she knew she had to go up if for no other reason than to reassure herself there was nothing there she wanted to see.
It took her only a few seconds to climb the ladder. It had seemed so much higher before, so much bigger. As her head came through the opening in the floor, she saw that the huge treehouse was just a small cramped space. Tessa climbed all the way into the house and sat on the floor. She felt like a teenager again, hiding away in her mansion in the sky, as Sam had called it.
Tessa's gaze was caught by the carving on the floor. It was a crooked heart with an arrow through it, and the words Tessa and Sam carved into the middle. She reached out to trace the heart with her finger, then frowned as she realized that someone had tried to cross out Tessa. On closer inspection, she saw that her name had been replaced with Alli's.
She wasn't surprised. Alli had been desperate to be part of the treehouse club. Never mind that she was two years younger and always an annoying little pest. She never stopped trying to be one of them. Maybe that was the problem. Alli had always tried a little too hard.
Tessa leaned back against the wall, but as she did so she knocked a loose board with her hand and winced as it clattered through the branches to the ground. Apparently, the treehouse wasn't quite as solid as it used to be.
It was then she heard the voice, his voice. Oh, Lord! Her toes curled into her shoes. How long had it been since she'd heard his voice? Was she simply imagining it now? Taken back to the past by a memory?
"I said, who's up there," Sam yelled with irritation. "If that's you, Tommy Hecklemeier, there's going to be hell to pay. You know your mother said you couldn't keep climbing up there. Last time you broke your arm."
Tessa held her breath, realizing he couldn't see her from the ground. Maybe if she stayed really quiet, if she didn't say a word, he'd go away. She didn't want to see Sam here. She couldn't meet him again after all these years—not now, stuck in a treehouse with her hair a mess and her eyes all puffy from crying and...
"Come on down, or I'm coming up. And if I come up, believe me, you will be sorry."
Sam's voice had deepened, matured. She wondered what the rest of him looked like, if his legs were still long and lean, if he'd filled in the hollow spaces of youth, if his blond hair had gone darker, or if his blue eyes could still see into her soul.
Tessa closed her eyes, willing him to go away as much as she willed him to come closer. She wanted to see him and yet she didn't. She wanted to talk to him and yet she had nothing to say. She wanted to feel his comforting arms around her, to rest her head on his shoulder, to have him tell her everything would be all right, but he was married, married to her sister, as unattainable as the man in the moon.
"Go away, Sam," she whispered. "For both our sakes, just go away."
Chapter Three
Sam felt a chill run through his body. Last night's storm had brought a cooling to the area and the sun had yet to burn off the lingering clouds and fog. But his wariness had less to do with the weather and more to do with the feeling that all was not right.
It was probably nothing. The treehouse had always been a magnet for the neighborhood kids. Phoebe hadn't minded the company, but six months ago Tommy had fallen out of the treehouse and broken his arm, and since then she'd decided it was time for the treehouse to come down.
Sam had told her he'd do it, but he'd been stalling. The treehouse was part of his youth, and it didn't belong to only him. He'd built it with Tessa, for Tessa. She'd called it her mansion in the sky, the place where she could go and dream of all the cities she'd visit, all the things she'd do. Tessa had said it was easier to dream when you were closer to the stars.
He shook his head at the foolishness of it all. Dreams were for kids. So were tree houses. And tomorrow he'd take the damn thing down. Just as soon as he got Tommy out of it.
"If you're not coming down, I'm coming up," he warned, but still he hesitated. He hadn't been up inside the treehouse since he'd married Alli, and for a brief moment he wasn't sure he should go now. But he heard another creak and knew that he couldn't leave without rousting the little tre
spasser.
"Mrs. MacGuire told you this place was off-limits," he said as he climbed up the rungs, praying they'd take the weight of a full-grown man. He put his head through the opening. "You have no right to be here. You--” He stopped abruptly as he took in the tousled blond hair, the blue, blue eyes, the trembling lips, the perfect oval angel face.
He stared at her in disbelief, then swung himself up into the treehouse, feeling the boards creak with the combination of their weight.
Tessa wasn't supposed to arrive for hours, and she definitely wasn't supposed to be here in the treehouse. He shook his head and blinked, wondering if he'd somehow conjured her up.
"I probably shouldn't have climbed up," she said warily. "But when I saw it was still here, I couldn't resist."
"I thought you were one of the local kids. Why didn't you say something?" He heard the words come out of his mouth and was relieved that they seemed to make sense when his mind was in total chaos.
She was more beautiful than he remembered, a woman now, he realized, taking in the slender curves accentuated by her designer jeans and short clinging sweater. Her face was thinner than he remembered, her eyes a bit more tired, her expression world-weary.
"I hoped you might go away. I wasn't planning on seeing anyone yet." She put a hand to her hair. "I must look awful. I can't remember when I slept more than a few minutes in a row."
"No, you don't—look awful," he added, unable to stop looking at her.
Almost a decade had passed between them, a friendship gone, a love affair severed, a relationship destroyed forever. Yet here she was—in the one place he'd never expected to see her again and looking as beautiful, as desirable, as vulnerable as he'd ever seen her.
"Have you seen Grams?" Tessa asked. "How is she?"
"Last night," he said. "They don't know the extent of the damage yet, if there is any. They're hopeful that it will be minimal."
Tessa's eyes filled with fear. Her expression reminded him of Alli, of the way she'd looked at her grandmother, silently praying for a miracle.
Alli! She'd hate that Tessa was here. Hate it even more that they were together.
"Will Grams be all right?" Tessa asked.
Ten years ago he would have lied. It would have been expected. Tessa hated bad news, and he'd always tried to protect her. But now...
"I don't know," was all he could say.
"That's not the right answer."
"We're not kids anymore." He sounded like a gruff old man, but he had to put some barrier between them. "I can't make this go away like a bad dream."
She stared at him uncertainly. "That's a shame, because I'd really like to wake up and not find myself here." She let out a sigh. "I'm surprised Grams didn't take this down years ago. There was no reason to keep it." Her words sounded offhand, as if she didn't care, but her eyes seemed to say something else.
"You loved this treehouse once." He felt sure she wanted him to remind her of that, although he couldn't have said why.
"A long time ago," she replied.
A silence fell between them. Leaves drifted past the open windows like the cascade of memories that fluttered in his mind. He could see Tessa eating peanut butter on celery sticks, writing plays they would later act out, lying on her back staring through a square hole in the roof at the stars that peeked through, weaving stories and dreams that would take on a life of their own.
"The treehouse used to be bigger, didn't it?" Tessa asked.
"We used to be smaller."
She sent him a bittersweet smile. "Right. We should go. I need to pull myself together, then get to the hospital." She paused, sending him a curious look. "What are you doing here anyway?"
"I was getting the newspaper, and I thought I heard someone in the yard."
"Getting the paper? Are you keeping an eye on Grams's house while she's in the hospital?"
She didn't know, Sam suddenly realized. Didn't know he was living next door. Didn't know Alli had asked him for a divorce.
"Sam?" Tessa asked, a question in her eyes.
"I'm living next door now."
"I thought—I thought you and Alli lived across town in the new Seaside development."
"Alli still lives there. I moved out three months ago."
She stared at him, her eyes completely unreadable. "I—I don't know what to say. Grams didn't tell me."
He shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Do you want to go down first?" He stopped abruptly as her eyes widened, as they both remembered.
"You go first so you can catch me," thirteen-year-old Tessa said with a laugh that sang on the wind. "You can be my hero."
"I would never let you fall," Sam said gallantly.
"I know that. I trust you with my life."
The memory teased at his brain like an unwanted, irritating refrain. He certainly hadn't turned out to be her hero. He'd let her fall. In fact, he'd given her a push.
"I'll go first," he said abruptly, and lowered himself to the ground as fast as humanly possible.
Tessa reached the ground a second later, her willowy body so close to his he could almost touch her. Instead he put his hands in the pockets of his blue jeans while she brushed an errant leaf out of her thick blond hair. She was tall, almost five foot ten, at least a half dozen inches over Alli. But there was still a sense of frailty about Tessa that he'd never seen in her younger sister, a feeling that she needed to be protected, while Alli could fend for herself.
"Do you know where Grams keeps the keys to her car?" Tessa asked. "I got a ride from the airport, but I have no way of getting to the hospital."
"Her car is in the shop. It will be ready this afternoon."
"Oh. I'll call a cab, then."
"I can give you a ride."
She looked surprised by the offer. So was he.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
He hesitated. "You have to get there, don't you? I was planning to go anyway, right after I drop Megan at school."
Megan! It suddenly occurred to him that he had a daughter who was probably wondering where he was. "Come over when you're ready." He started walking toward the side yard as he spoke.
Tessa hesitated. "I think I should take a cab.”
“Why?”
"Because it seems easier."
He turned back to face her. "Easier to find a cab in this small town than to get in a car with me? You really have been gone a long time, haven't you?"
"Being with you is complicated. Did I really need to say that out loud?" she challenged, her eyes suddenly coming alive.
"Life is complicated."
"I try to keep it as simple as I can."
"That's why you never came back."
"That's one reason."
"Don't you want to meet your niece?" He'd always found Tessa's lack of interest in Megan irritating. It wasn't as if Megan had ever done anything to hurt Tessa.
Tessa looked surprised. "Do you think Megan wants to meet me? I'm sure she can't have heard much good about me in your house."
"Alli doesn't talk about you at all."
"Of course she doesn't. What was I thinking?”
"But you are family, Tessa, whether you want to be or not."
"Not anymore, Sam."
"You and Alli have the same blood running through your veins. I consider that family."
"I'm sure Alli wouldn't agree with you.”
"Probably not. But then she doesn't agree with me about most things these days."
"I thought you'd stick by her forever." Tessa clapped a hand to her mouth. "Forget I said that.”
"Alli doesn't want me to stick by her."
"I can't imagine that."
"No need to imagine. It's simple fact." He turned toward his house, not sure she'd follow, not sure it wouldn't be better if she didn't. He opened the kitchen door and found Megan sitting at the table eating Cheerios soaked in milk. She looked up, her mouth full of cereal, her hair tangled from sleep. "Hi, Daddy. Where were you?"
"Next door."
&nb
sp; "Did Grams come home?"
"No." He hated the sad look that crossed her face. "But she will soon. You better eat so I can get you to school on time."
Megan looked past him, her eyes widening. Sam looked from his daughter to Tessa and wasn't sure who was more surprised. He'd shown Megan pictures of Tessa, but he'd never fully explained why Tessa wasn't part of their lives.
"You're Aunt Tessa," Megan said in delight. "The one who was the fairy princess in the school play."
Tessa looked taken aback. "I, uh, yes, that was me."
"I'm going to be a princess next Halloween," Megan continued. "Mommy thinks I should be a lion, or a Gypsy, but I think a fairy princess would be better. Because they're so pretty. You're beautiful," she added shyly.
To Sam's amazement, a flush of red swept across Tessa's face. How many people must have told her she was beautiful, with long blond hair sweeping past her shoulders, eyes the color of the deep blue sea, and a mouth that could pout or kiss or laugh with the best of them.
Looking at her now, in the light of the kitchen, he was struck again by the sheer beauty of her. And what he liked even better was that she could still blush.
"Thank you," Tessa said slowly. "You're beautiful, too."
"Do you want some Cheerios?" Megan asked.
"No, thanks." Tessa took a step back toward the door. "Maybe I should wait at Grams's house until you're ready to go to the hospital, Sam."
"Don't leave," Megan protested. "You just got here. I have so many questions. No one ever seems to know where you are. Daddy says you're a model. And Grams showed me your picture on the cover of a magazine. I want to be a model when I grow up." Megan sent Sam a look that dared him to deny her that dream. "So you have to stay."
Tessa glanced at Sam. "Do you think it's all right for me to be here?"
Summer Reads Box Set, Books 4-6 Page 33
