‘Well, pumpkin. I told Uncle T off and he didn’t like it so he sassed me.’
‘Did he make you cry?’ Lulu asked, her big eyes wide. ‘I make Mama cry sometimes.’
Hank swallowed hard and forced out a smile. ‘No, Lulu, but I sure was mad at him.’ A sad rasp tightened his voice and Fee wished Tom could hear his father’s pain. ‘But we’ll be okay again, just like you and your mama. I promise.’
‘I always give Mama a big kiss and then she loves me again.’
‘Oh, honey, she always loves you.’ Hank ruffled Lulu’s bright red curls.
‘I know that.’
Lulu’s certainty hit Fee in the gut. She’d never experienced the same level of assurance with her own mother, always convinced she came way down Maddy’s priority list.
‘I ought to be going.’ Fee needed to get out of there and do some thinking. ‘Thanks for the lemonade.’
Hank shifted the little girl into his arms and stood up with her. ‘Come in anytime, ma’am.’
‘Bye, nice ice cream lady.’ Lulu leaned down and gave Fee a sloppy kiss on her cheek, leaving behind a sticky trail.
Back outside Fee sat in her rental car for a moment and watched the scene around her. She picked up the brown paper bag on the passenger seat and peeked inside, unable to keep from smiling. The cheap digital camera was something she’d give a child to learn on but maybe that was what she needed. To look at things though the eyes of a novice photographer might reignite the simple love of creating a picture that she’d discovered with her first camera. Will Sawyer gave her an inexpensive one on her tenth birthday after she showed an interest when he was taking photographs. He’d taken her on many expeditions around the Cornish coast, giving her encouraging hints and teaching her the basics of composition.
Her mind’s eye captured Tom, dark-eyed and furious as he’d stormed past her earlier. The perfect shot would have horrified him because there’d been nothing mild-mannered about him as he almost shoved her to the ground in his haste. Tom must have been pushed past his limit and snapped. It was plain her surface impression of the Chambers as one big, happy family wasn’t completely accurate but in her experience few things were. Pulitzer Prizes weren’t awarded for sweet, cuddly stories but to those with the courage to search for the dark side. Everything and everyone had one.
An ex-boyfriend criticised her for not personally caring about anything. You see everything through a damn lens. It filters all you do. You’ll never truly love another person because you’re too busy framing the next perfect shot.
Pierre, and her fellow photographers understood if you didn’t maintain a slight distance it consumed you and spat you back out. But if you weren’t lucky in the end it sucked you dry. After everything that’d happened with Pierre she had nothing left to give which was what had brought her here. Fee shoved the camera back into the bag with a heavy sigh. She’d go back to Black Cherry Retreat and hope it worked the magic she needed. Right now she had nothing to offer Tom or anyone else.
Tom watched the level decrease in the whisky bottle without caring. Fee’s shocked expression wouldn’t leave him and neither would the hurt he’d put in his father’s eyes. He pushed the toe of his boot into the floor to set the chair rocking and closed his eyes as he drank.
‘Mr Chambers?’
‘Who’s askin’?’ He opened one eye. A prissy young man with tortoiseshell glasses and a superior expression stared at him from the bottom step. Tom noticed a couple of kids and a sour-faced blonde woman peering out of the gleaming red Volvo parked on the road.
‘Quentin Waters. We’ve got a cabin booked.’
Shit. He’d forgotten all about the new guests and left their groceries behind in the cafe. Luckily his own pantry was well stocked so he’d be okay. ‘Sure thing. Come on inside and we’ll get the paperwork out of the way.’ He dragged himself up to standing.
‘Have you been drinking?’
‘Against the law in Florida, is it?’ he challenged.
‘Well no, but—’
‘Fine, don’t worry about it none then.’ Tom strode away, flinging open the door and taking it for granted the man would follow. Dropping down into his desk chair he fumbled with the computer for a moment and brought up the right screen. While he took the man’s credit card and printed out a receipt he ran through the usual spiel about the resort. ‘Right, we’re done.’
‘Aren’t you’re going to show us to our cabin?’
Tom retained enough brain cells to realise he was being an ass. Running this place gave him a huge measure of freedom but everything had its down side and thankfully annoying guests were a rarity. ‘Of course. Come back out and I’ll direct you where to drive then walk up to meet you.’
Tom got through the next half hour by the skin of his teeth. He’d never known a guest ask so many questions. Where are the spare towels? Maybe in the closet marked towels and bed linens. What kind of bug spray do the children need? Perhaps one that stopped them screaming. When he dared to give the children a sharp look their mother promptly informed him they believed in encouraging freedom of expression. Hank would say they needed a good swat on the backside and to be taught some manners. After his own bad behaviour today he was damn lucky not to have got the same thing himself – nearly forty-one or not.
‘I’ll leave you to settle in. You know where I am if there’s anything else you need.’ He tipped his hat and made a quick escape. This could be a long week. Tom had a sinking feeling Quentin Waters would be bugging him every five minutes.
On his porch he sat back down and reached for the glass again but the sour smell of the whisky turned his stomach. Tom stared into the dusk and wished the long, lousy day was over. Off in the woods an owl started its night-time call and a tingle ran down his spine as a vague shape moved down the path towards him.
‘Is it safe to come closer or are you going to knock me over again?’ Fee’s lilting voice took him by surprise.
‘I never knocked you over,’ he protested.
‘You came bloody close. I’d have been on the ground if your sweet father hadn’t rescued me.’ Without waiting for an invitation she strolled up the steps and sat down next to him. ‘I thought I’d come and see if you’d rejoined the human race or if you were still off in your angry place?’
He glared, but she only gave him a compassionate smile. Whatever macho trick a man needed to silence women with a single look he’d well and truly missed out on.
‘Whisky’s always a bad idea.’ She pointed to the half-empty bottle.
‘Says who?’
‘Me. Been there. Done that. ‘
Tom wasn’t in the mood to swap sob stories with a pretty woman he’d much rather kiss. ‘You’d better go, honey,’ he grouched.
‘Why?’
‘I’ve had a shitty day. Don’t want to talk about it either.’
‘I wasn’t offering to listen. You’re sorry enough for yourself without me joining in the pity party.’ She folded her long legs underneath her and rocked alongside him.
‘Why did you come?’ He wished she’d leave before he made even more of a fool of himself for one day.
‘Not sure really,’ Fee said with a shrug. ‘Tired of my own company?’
He scoffed. ‘And you thought mine would be better?’
‘There’s not much choice around here.’
‘You could spend time with the Burtons and learn the secrets of a long happy marriage or go visit your new neighbours and they’ll put you off the idea of marriage and kids for good. Take your pick.’
Fee’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. ‘Which camp do you fall in?’
He guessed she was asking something important and the real question was whether or not to give her an honest answer.
Chapter Ten
The faint light trickling out from his cabin highlighted the planes and shadows of Tom’s face making Fee yearn to fetch her camera. He wouldn’t share anything if she was stupid enough to put a lens between them.
‘Oh,
I’m a believer, honey. I’ve seen too many great examples not to be. I shouldn’t criticise the new guests either just because I find them annoying.’ He rubbed at his stubbly jaw line. ‘I also know it’s possible because I came close to having it once.’ A strained rasp roughened the edges of his voice. ‘For two short years.’ Tom slumped in the chair, staring down at the floor.
‘What happened?’
Tom wearily straightened his shoulders and she couldn’t avoid meeting his sad eyes. ‘She died. Gina died because of me.’ He exhaled a long, deep sigh. ‘And my family think I should forget and move on.’
She guessed his loving, close-knit family hated to see him lonely and blaming himself for his wife’s death. ‘Is that what they say?’
He shrugged. ‘Not exactly.’
‘Could there be a nugget of truth in their advice?’
A palpable silence filled the air between them and he shifted in the chair.
‘Maybe?’ she probed.
Tom sprung out of the chair and planted himself right in front of her. Fee’s heart thumped but she’d perfected the art of disguising her fear a long time ago. Staring down one angry man was nothing.
‘Yeah. There probably is. Are you satisfied now?’ he growled.
‘You brought up the subject.’
‘I bet you’re good at your job. You don’t take no for an answer do you?’ It didn’t come across as a compliment.
What would happen if she shared her secrets with him? The idea disappeared before it could take root. Tom rested his trembling hand against the side of her cheek and Fee unconsciously leaned into his touch.
‘Go now, while I can still send you away,’ he pleaded.
‘Is that what you want?’
His rough burst of laughter tore through her. ‘Course I don’t, but it’s what’s goin’ to happen, sweetheart. I haven’t lost all my common sense despite my behaviour earlier.’ Tom jerked away and shoved his hands deep in his jeans pockets.
Fee unravelled her legs and slid up to standing. She rested her head against Tom’s broad chest and his deep, heaving breaths rumbled through her. He didn’t move away so she tipped her head slightly and their mouths almost touched. His searing gaze bored into her and her skin tingled.
‘I daren’t kiss you,’ he sighed.
‘I know, but that doesn’t have to stop me.’
‘It should.’
She’d always been a rule breaker and today was no exception. Heat. Whisky. Clean pine soap. The beguiling scent of clothes dried in the fresh air. Her senses exploded as she pressed her lips into his and slid her hands around his thick, solid neck to pull him closer. Fee flicked her tongue around the edges of his mouth, nipping and teasing.
‘Oh, God, Fee.’
‘Excuse me, Mr Chambers. I hope I’m not interrupting anything … important?’
They sprang apart and Fee would’ve toppled over if Tom hadn’t grasped her hands.
‘Thank goodness I didn’t send my children over to witness this disgraceful display.’
Fee stifled a laugh and Tom’s mouth similarly twitched at the edges.
‘I don’t know what sort of establishment you’re running here. When we arrived you were drinking and now you’re … you know, out in public. Have you no consideration for your guests?’
‘I certainly do, and I didn’t mean to offend you but having a glass of whisky and kissing a woman aren’t flogging offences in Tennessee.’
‘Hmm.’ The man grunted in obvious disapproval. ‘I came over to ask what you’re going to do about our cell phones.’
Tom frowned. ‘Your cell phones?’
‘They’re not working.’
Fee bit her tongue as Tom patiently explained the situation regarding the phones and internet coverage and the fact he made this clear in the resort’s brochures. The man complained a while longer but left when it was clear there was nothing Tom could do.
‘Fee, I …’
‘He saved us,’ she quickly interrupted. ‘Maybe we should thank him.’ Liar.
‘Tomorrow?’
‘Maybe.’ Fee couldn’t manage to smile and hurried away down the steps. Tom didn’t try to stop her and she knew she should be grateful.
Tom was surprised his mother waited so long. She must be getting more restrained in her old age although if he dared use her name and those last two words in the same sentence she’d put him on a spit and turn him ‘til he was crispy around the edges.
Standing on his doorstep at barely eight o’clock in the morning she held out a cardboard box and warm, cinnamon-scented aromas wafted in his direction. His mother’s kind smile didn’t fool him for a second. Sarah Chambers was a stellar detective and the fact she’d never been a police officer was irrelevant because no one bested her when it came to in-depth investigations. No doubt she’d gathered evidence from his father and anyone else who’d witnessed his outburst in the cafe. Probably even Lulu got the third degree after being bribed with ice cream.
‘Mama, you’re a sight for sore eyes. I swear you get prettier every time I see you.’ Tom bent to kiss her cheek.
‘You can stop your flannel right now. I got up at six this morning to make these cinnamon rolls so let’s eat. You’d better have a pot of coffee ready. After we’ve eaten you’ll listen to me for a change.’
He opened the door wider and his mother pushed in past, making a beeline for the kitchen. Tom trailed in after her and rubbed at his temple as the nagging hangover he’d woken up with intensified.
‘Serves you right. You and drink don’t do well. I thought you’d at least learnt that lesson.’
‘I …’
‘Don’t lie. Your eyes are dull and your jaw-line’s puffy. Can’t get away with it at forty like you could at seventeen. I haven’t forgotten when your delinquent brothers helped you celebrate your birthday by sneaking Daddy’s whisky bottle out of the cupboard and replacing the contents with cold tea afterwards.’
He didn’t waste time arguing and slumped in the chair while his mother bustled around the kitchen. For a good ten minutes she tidied up, complaining under her breath at the dirty dishes strewn all over the place. Once the dishwasher was loaded and the countertops wiped down to her satisfaction she found clean plates and forks and opened up the box she’d brought with her. His mother dumped a massive warm, fragrant roll on each plate and passed one to him before pouring two large mugs of coffee.
‘Eat,’ she ordered. ‘We’re not spoiling my rolls by talking about your bad behaviour.’
Ouch. Knowing how to turn the guilt screw on their kids must be a specialty of mothers everywhere. Food was the last thing his queasy stomach needed but he’d shove the roll down if it killed him. If he showed anything less than rampant enthusiasm it’d be another black mark against him and he’d already racked up enough to win an Olympic gold medal.
‘You haven’t lost your knack, Mama.’ Thankfully he didn’t need to lie because as he swallowed the first bite his appetite started to creep back. Even Aunt Ina who could bake the heck out of most people couldn’t make a cinnamon roll to touch his mother’s. He received one of those looks making it clear she’d let him sweet talk her for now but when she chose the right moment he’d better watch out.
It took four minutes and thirty-five seconds.
‘So, Thomas Michael, when’re you going to apologise to your daddy?’
Full name. Always bad. ‘Uh, lunchtime?’
‘Good answer.’
Tom took another swig of coffee. ‘And of course to Aunt Ina, Lulu and anyone else I offended.’
‘Sometimes you’re not as dumb as you look.’
He’d take the back-handed compliment as the best he’d get.
‘Your grandmother called me.’
‘Who told her?’
His mother snickered. ‘Who didn’t is more to the point? The story was all over town before supper time.’
What would it be like to live somewhere no one knew or cared who you were? Tom reminded himself he’d bee
n there, done that and hated it. From the little he’d picked up it was how Fee had spent most of her life so no wonder she was prickly as a cactus if anyone got too close. He hadn’t seen her this morning and guessed the incredible kiss they’d shared freaked her out. Maybe if she knew it’d done the same to him that might help.
‘Look, I’m sorry. Alright?’
‘I know you are.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘When’re you going to quit being a hermit?’
Tom pulled away. ‘I wish y’all would stay out of my private life. Why’s it so hard for everyone to accept I don’t intend replacing my wife? I was a terrible husband in more ways than I care to admit and because of that Gina’s dead. I’ve got a decent life now. Much better than most. I’m good.’
‘You don’t get it, do you?’ His mother shook her head. ‘No one’s asking you to forget Gina but it doesn’t mean you’re condemned to be lonely the rest of your life. It’s time you forgave yourself. We’re all human. We make mistakes.’ Deep hurt was etched into every line of her face.
‘Mom. I’ve nothing left to love anyone else with.’
‘Oh, Tom, you’re wrong. There’s a ton of kindness in you and it wouldn’t take much to turn it into love with the right woman. It might be a different kind of loving but no worse for that. I wish you’d give it a chance.’
He’d never been good at lying to his mother but if he didn’t pull it off now she’d hound him forever. ‘I’ll think about it, okay? But you’ve got to tell the rest of them to back off. I don’t tell them how to run their lives. Maybe one day I’ll be lucky enough to meet someone special who’ll change my mind.’ Tom pushed away the vivid image of Fee, so sweet and responsive in his arms last night.
‘You promise?’
Tom nodded. ‘And you’ll do what I asked?’
‘I will. I’ll make it clear.’
That’s all it would take because everyone paid attention to his mother. Now he’d be left alone to live on his own terms.
‘I’d better be going, son.’
‘I’ll pop down at lunchtime.’
She stood up and gathered her coat and purse. ‘You’d better see your daddy on his own first.’
Christmas at Black Cherry Retreat Page 6
