“Do you have a picture of you and Sam?”
She shook her head. “Not with me. I have a storage unit back home in North Dakota. Where I have things from my grandparents and parents. I left it all there after the funeral. Asked the family lawyer to pack it all away. I wasn’t ready. I’m still not. Even though that doesn’t feel like my life anymore, you know? Or it’s that I’ve lived a completely different one since then.” She couldn’t even carry a picture of her own fiancé. That’s how weak she was. That’s how...damaged she was. Even as the memories of Sam began to fade, she couldn’t look at his photo. She didn’t want to remember.
“You do realize that none of this is a turnoff, right?”
She couldn’t help it. Kendall laughed. This man. Oh, this man. It would be so easy, so incredibly easy, to just let go of everything and surrender to what he was asking her to do. But that wasn’t possible. She’d meant what she’d said earlier. She was damaged. Beyond repair. And no one, especially Hunter MacBride—let alone his niece—deserved to be saddled with her. “You’re a good man, Hunter MacBride. And you make me feel...lighter.”
“Always a good start.” He lifted his hand to touch her hair, but she shied away.
“I meant what I said before, and I need you to hear me.” She caught hold of him, held on tight. “I’m beyond the type of challenge you need. And while I know that sounds as if I’m playing hard to get, I’m not. I’m not capable of having those feelings for anyone anymore, Hunter. And to be perfectly honest, I don’t want to.” Because that meant risking the very tenuous hold on her new life. One she’d worked hard for. “But I might be okay being friends.”
“I’m being friend-zoned?” Hunter groaned and dropped his head back, but not before she saw the flash of disappointment in his eyes. “You do know that’s a death knell to a person’s ego, right?”
“Oh, I think your ego can take it.” She slipped off the sofa and picked up her mug to carry it over to the sink. When she turned, she found Hunter standing right behind her. He opened his arms and she stepped forward. She planted a hand on his chest to stop him even as part of her wanted to pull him closer.
Big mistake. Her fingers pressed harder until she felt the beating of his heart, the quick-time beating she knew was for her.
“If friendship is what you want, I’ll take it.” He dipped down slightly to catch her gaze. When she lifted her chin, met his challenge, he grinned. Before pressing his lips to hers. Not for long. For barely a breath. But long enough for her to lose hers. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t want to change your mind. Now how about you help me sort through my list of historic buildings in town so I can hit the ground running next week?”
“Sure.” She patted his chest before he stepped away. “That I can do.”
* * *
FOR THE FIRST time in weeks, Hunter slept. That deep sleep where everything inside him had a chance to reboot. Maybe it was the cathartic conversation he’d had with Kendall. Or maybe it was enough to know she was sleeping just outside Phoebe’s bedroom, an unwitting sentry willing to turn his niece around should she attempt another midnight excursion.
With the sound of the wind and rain pummeling the carriage house, he dropped off, only to be awakened by the pattering of raindrops in what felt like the blink of an eye. He lay there, unmoving, for a long time, reacquainting himself with the laziness and relaxation that came after a good night’s sleep. “Maybe I should call it the Kendall effect.”
He pushed himself up, reaching for a T-shirt as he climbed out of bed. He scrubbed both hands through his hair, stifling a yawn as he crossed his bedroom, ready to encourage a typically sleepy and snuggling Phoebe out from under the covers.
He pulled open the door and froze. Phoebe wasn’t only already up, she was dressed, bright-eyed and ready to conquer the still-stormy day. The blankets and pillow he’d given Kendall had been neatly folded and left on the corner of the sofa. The chill off the floor raced up his legs and had him shifting as he watched Kendall in the kitchen. She seemed to be assembling a collection of fruit to take to Phoebe, who was sitting at the kitchen table, cutting board and her own knife in hand.
Phoebe waved. Her smile plumped her cheeks, reaching her eyes.
“Okay, here you go. Oh, good morning.” Kendall almost tripped on her approach to the table. Maybe it was the too-long, unrolled sweatpants he’d loaned her. Or maybe, given the surprise shining on her face, it was him. He was happy to accept option number two.
“Morning. What’s going on?”
“Fruit salad for our pancakes.” She scraped pineapple and bananas onto Phoebe’s cutting board. “I can’t guarantee perfection, but it should be edible.”
“I’m sure it will be as soon as I’ve had my...”
“Coffee?” Kendall pointed to the pot. “It’s already brewed.” She returned to the counter and cracked some eggs into a measuring cup, set a skillet on the stove to heat. “Sleep okay?”
“Better than okay.” She moved away, he noticed, when he scooted in beside her to claim his morning addiction. “You?”
“Better than expected.” She wasn’t lying. The dark circles he’d become acquainted with seeing had faded a bit.
“Been up long?”
“A few hours. I hope you don’t mind.” She beat the eggs with a fork. “I was looking through some of those books you found at the library. The one on the lighthouse itself gave me a good feel for how the interior should be done.”
“Happy to share.” He reached around her and snagged a rogue chunk of pineapple. “A man could get used to this.”
“A man shouldn’t. You are looking at the extent of my cooking skills. And I’m talking about the eggs, not the pancakes. The storm’s clearing.”
“Is it?” Hunter walked around to pull open the door, stuck his head out. And came back in soaking wet. “Not from where I was just standing.” He shook his head and sent water spraying over Kendall and Phoebe, who surprised him by giggling.
“The wind’s died down, at least. I might be able to wiggle my way into the lighthouse and start taking some measurements.”
“You mean you don’t want to go traipsing around town with me talking to residents about the good old days?”
“Ah, no. Besides, I’m on call to help Frankie and the chief with any repair work that needs doing around town.”
“On call?”
“I’m on a list of volunteers with the fire department.”
Of course she was. Was there nothing she couldn’t do?
Hunter leaned against the kitchen counter and watched her. “Question. How can you be on call when you don’t own a cell phone?”
“They just shine the bat signal in town.” Kendall shrugged. “I have one of the radios from the sheriff’s department. Matt calls me. Or Luke. Or whoever is around. Access to the radio is one of the reasons I need to get back into the house.”
“I envy you, not being plugged in every second of the day on a cell. The darned things can be addictive.”
“When blessings become curses. Hey, Phoebe, you done with those?” she asked.
Phoebe climbed off her chair and carried her cutting board over, offered it up. “Perfect. Thank you. Hunter, we have time before we eat if you want to get dressed.”
“I guess I can’t stop the day from starting, can I? Are we having toast, too?”
“Phoebe’s chosen the menu so, yes. With Calliope’s lavender honey.” She motioned to the lavender gingham–topped jar sitting by the sink. “But hurry up. Before Phoebe and I finish it without you.”
Phoebe giggled again.
* * *
KENDALL LET OUT a long breath once Hunter was back in his bedroom. Despite her determination to keep an emotional distance, the sight of him standing in his doorway a few moments ago, with his sleepy eyes and serious bed head, made her want to run her hands through his hair and kiss him go
od morning.
Despite the appearance of a well-organized breakfast chef, she was feeling off-kilter to say the least. She hadn’t expected to sleep a wink, let alone more than five hours, longer than she’d slept in years, maybe. Waking up to find Phoebe sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her, back against the sofa as she read her book, should have paralyzed her. Would have if she’d given in to the grief circling her from above.
But it was from above. The loss, that emptiness over Samira and Sam, was filling against her will. She didn’t want to forget. She didn’t want to move on, because moving on meant life was only going to smack her down again. But how could she turn her back on this little girl who so obviously needed her help?
What Phoebe needed was routine and hope. Both of which had been snatched from her six months ago. Hunter had gotten the ball rolling by showing her how much he cared and that he’d created a new life for himself by giving her a different life, one where there was a new adventure around every corner. Maybe it was time for them to...
Kendall had stopped the thought before it had time to settle. Nope. None of her business. They weren’t hers. Phoebe wasn’t her little girl, and Hunter wasn’t anyone other than a friend she might listen to and steer in the right direction from time to time. Then she could get back to her own business. Her own job.
She glanced out the window to where the rain continued to fall. If only Mother Nature would get on board and leave Butterfly Harbor. She had a project to finish.
And a new town to find.
Phoebe tugged on Kendall’s shirt, bringing her back to the present as the eggs sizzled in the pan. “What’s that?”
Phoebe held up Charlotte’s Web.
“Oh. You want me to read that to you?”
Phoebe nodded.
Hmm. “You know what? I think your uncle would really like to do that.”
Phoebe’s mouth twisted, and Kendall could read it on the little girl’s face. She didn’t believe that at all.
“Have you asked him?”
Phoebe shook her head.
“Maybe you should. Over breakfast. Just like you asked me, only maybe, out loud? He likes to do things that make you happy, Phoebe. And that would make you happy, wouldn’t it?”
Phoebe nodded but still looked disappointed.
“I’ll tell you what.” Kendall bent down so she could look Phoebe directly in the eyes. “You read Charlotte’s Web with your uncle, and when you’re done, I’ll read one of your other books to you. How does that sound?”
Phoebe didn’t answer. Instead, she pointed to the plant in the window that she’d given Kendall last night at dinner. “One of Samira’s stories?”
“You, um, want me to read you something that Samira might have liked?”
“Yes, please.”
“Um, sure. I guess I could do that.” Kendall winced. She’d really walked into that one, hadn’t she? “But only if you let your uncle read you Charlotte’s Web.” She held out her hand to seal the deal.
Phoebe scrunched her face, then accepted.
“Great. Now how about I put you in charge of the toast. I’m terrible with it,” Kendall fibbed. “I burn it all the time. You good with that?”
She got another thumbs-up before Phoebe set her book down on Hunter’s chair and went back to her chopping.
* * *
IF THERE WAS one thing the residents of Butterfly Harbor excelled at, it was coming together to get things done. Last year, the residents had brought a new food festival to town and then landscaped and refaced most of the distressed and abandoned homes in the area.
At Christmas, folks had put on one of the biggest celebrations ever seen when hometown girl Abby Manning had married celebrity chef Jason Corwin at the historic Flutterby Inn.
So it shouldn’t have been too big a surprise that on this Sunday morning, post-storm, after Kendall had wedged herself through the broken window of the keeper’s house for a change of clothes, she spotted a cavalcade of trucks and cars beelining for Liberty Lighthouse.
The panic swirled inside Kendall automatically. She may have made some progress over the last few months and perhaps more the last few days, but that didn’t mean she was ready for...this. It looked like a parade of people advancing on her.
“Holy smokehouse pancakes, you really dodged a bullet, didn’t you?” Abby called out. Abby Corwin, manager of the Flutterby, and resident pixie dust supplier, dropped out of her husband’s car, her sneakered feet sinking an inch deep in mud. “Huh. Well. That’s gross.” She squelched her way over to Kendall’s side. “Who would have thought you’d win for most damage in the storm?”
“I didn’t know I was playing.” Kendall couldn’t help but frown. The sky hadn’t only cleared, the storm had dragged a good dose of warmth behind it and bathed the town in unseasonable weather. She couldn’t have asked for a better day to dispatch the tree and figured she and Frankie, and maybe one or two others, could make quick work of it. With this group, she’d be back inside in no time. “All of this wasn’t necessary,” Kendall told Abby, who stuck her finger and thumb in her mouth to whistle everyone over.
“Well, we weren’t able to get in touch with you to warn you.” Abby grinned in that way she had that prevented anyone from ever getting angry with her. “Alethea is going to be bringing the food truck around for lunch in a few hours. Jason’s helping her get it stocked now. I don’t think a day goes by I’m not grateful Xander’s sister popped up in town. She’s saved me ten times over and now Jason can relax a bit more. Oh, Holly’s been put on booth rest—”
“Booth rest?” Kendall asked, darting out of the way as a uniformed deputy approached. “What’s booth rest?”
“That’s when Paige and Ursula allow her to come in to the diner but not to do any work. So she has to sit in a booth and fill saltshakers and ketchup bottles and wipe down menus. At least that was the plan.” Abby frowned a bit. “I’m not sure she can fit in a booth these days. Those twins are growing every second. Do not tell her I said that,” Abby warned.
“I wouldn’t dare.” Kendall couldn’t stop looking at the deputy. He was tall-ish, not quite six foot, but his curly chestnut hair and lively brown eyes seemed oddly familiar. “Wow, is that Ozzy?” Kendall did a double take. It hadn’t been that long since she’d seen the young deputy, had it? “I almost don’t recognize you.”
“All those carrots paid off.” Matt trudged up behind him. “Kid’s lost more than sixty pounds. He can almost outrun me now.”
“A ferret can outrun you,” Ozzy joked. “Thanks, Kendall. Closest outlet?” He held up the industrial extension cord.
“I just installed an exterior one right at the edge of the tower.” She pointed behind her. “Seriously, this is so unnecessary. I could have taken care of it. It’s just one tree.”
“More than that. Gil said we needed to install some safety fencing ASAP.”
“Did he?” Kendall couldn’t have been more surprised if Matt had shown up with a carnival troupe in tow.
“Word is he looked at our insurance policy on the place.” Harvey Mills joined them. The older man had always reminded Kendall of her grandfather. Always ready and willing to pitch in and help. “Seems he can save a small fortune if we install it before renewal time.”
“That’s Gil, always thinking about the bottom line,” Matt grumbled. “Which means our Sunday just got eaten up. But that’s okay. Gives me a chance to check in with you. Kendall, you doing okay?” He drew her away once Abby darted off to help organize the fence crew and hand out safety goggles and gloves to those who would be cutting apart the fallen redwood.
“Yeah, I’m good.” Kendall planted her hands on her hips and looked at busy activity around her. People, lots of people, swarmed about, offering smiles and waves as they passed. She waited for the surge of irritation, for the anger at feeling invaded, but nothing surfaced. “If all this pays
off, I won’t be off schedule more than a few days with the lighthouse.”
“Right. Wouldn’t want you to push back leaving, would we?” Matt quipped.
Guilt. The one emotion she hadn’t anticipated feeling today, landed on her heavily as she glanced at her friend. “Matt—”
“Kinda sucked having to hear it from Gil, of all people. You really thinking of moving? I thought you liked it here.”
“I do like it here. It’s been great. It’s just...” She glanced over to the carriage house as the door opened and Hunter came outside, Phoebe in his arms. They scanned the crowd. Her heart flipped in her chest, so hard and so fast she almost lost her footing. “It’s complicated.”
“Is it MacBride? I didn’t pick up on any creep vibes from him. Did he do something? Say something...?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kendall snapped. “If he had, I’d have taken care of it, but no. He’s been great. They let me stay with them last night. When I couldn’t get in here.” She pointed to the house that had never felt as homey as the one Hunter had established within a few weeks.
“And you’re okay with that? With Phoebe?”
“I wasn’t.” She cringed, was tempted to focus her attention on the ocean or on the growing pile of fencing being stacked by the cliff’s edge. “It was hard at first, but then it was all right. She’s not Samira.” She’d told herself that hundreds of times since Hunter and Phoebe had first arrived, but she’d never once uttered the words out loud. Not until now. “Samira’s gone. And so is Sam. Maybe I needed to be around Hunter and Phoebe to finally accept that.”
Safe in His Arms--A Clean Romance Page 13
