Her heart was beating so fast and so hard Jules found it hard to breathe.
It was over.
The worry, the anguish. The late nights on her knees. The very real fear that she would be disappointing her best friend by not protecting her babies.
She threw herself into Cam’s arms. “I can’t believe it’s over. I can’t believe it.” He looked down at her, his green eyes soft, and suddenly she remembered that it was over only because his mother was likely going to prison. “Cam, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
He crushed his lips to hers and she felt every thought leave her head but one. Him.
His hand caressed her hair, teasing one lock loose from her hair band. “You’re too good for me, Juliet.”
She looked up into his eyes and shook her head. “No. Just good enough.”
He still hadn’t said the words she wanted to hear, and his eyes darkened, even though his arms were still wrapped around her. “Are you sure you want this in your life, Juliet? As long as she knows where I am, she will always want something.”
“I want you in my life,” she said simply.
And she hoped that it really was that simple.
Eleanor came to the door of the kitchen. Cam released Jules and lifted the sleep-heavy three-year-old into his arms, and she nestled her head on his shoulder.
He looked over at Jules, then out at the pond in the backyard. “Do you think we could go fishing after supper?”
* * *
With a shriek, Eleanor pulled in the first fish. She couldn’t figure out the reeling, so she just turned and ran, Pippi running and barking beside her, until she dragged the flopping bass onto the bank. Then she promptly let go of the rod and the fish splashed back into the water.
Cam was laughing so hard he couldn’t see, but he managed to pull in her fish. Gingerly, he wrapped his fingers around it and removed the hook. “Do you want to see it, Eleanor?”
Eleanor took two steps toward him, closed her eyes and held her finger out. He touched the fish to her outstretched finger. She squealed again and stomped her feet. “Ew, yucky!”
Jules laughed. “I guess she’s not going to be our fisherman.”
She’d spread a quilt on the grass, but she wasn’t doing much sitting. Instead she was chasing their new walker. Emma thought it was hilarious to toddle as fast as she could toward the water, calling, “Mama, Mama,” in her husky little voice.
“You come back here, Emma Louise,” Jules said.
Emma stopped short and nearly toppled over into the pond, but she managed to maintain her balance. He laughed again. These girls were his heart.
The toddler looked up at Cam with a wicked gleam in her eye. “Dada.”
Eleanor had been calling him Daddy off and on since the night of the preschool fund-raiser, but Cam figured that with her, it was more the fact that she saw him as the father figure in their little family.
Emma saw him as Daddy and that knocked him as off balance as he would’ve been if the ground beneath him had shifted.
She lifted one foot and scrunched up her tiny toes. He arranged his features into an I-mean-business face. She took a step, putting that foot down and picking up the other one, teasing him. He put the mock-warning tone in his voice. “Emma...”
She turned away from the water and ran from him, slaying him with her laughter. He chased her down and scooped her into his arms, then tossed her into the air and pretended to gobble her up as she laughed until she hiccuped.
He set her down on her feet and she promptly replayed the whole scenario.
Thirty minutes later, after another dozen fish and at least twice that of Emma being caught just before disaster, both girls had worn themselves out and the sun was sinking quickly in the sky, the temperature dropping with it. Emma was sound asleep on her back on the quilt, her bottle sliding out of her hand, the puppy curled up against her side. Eleanor was in Cam’s lap, mumbling about fish, her eyes drooping.
He sighed, but not in disappointment. It was contentment he was feeling. Peace. He snuggled Eleanor closer, shifting her so she could lay her head on his chest. He said softly to Jules, “I used to think it was the big things that mattered most, but now I don’t think that’s true. I think a life—a real life, a happy life—is made from a collection of small moments that add up to something big.”
He glanced at Juliet sitting beside him in the swing, her blond ponytail a long curl over her shoulder.
It wasn’t the first time he’d felt peace. In his travels, he’d experienced it—looking out over a lush green valley from the peak of a mountain, or feeling the rush of wind and the vastness of the atmosphere when skydiving.
He’d scraped together a patchwork of peaceful memories that made up his life, much like that quilt Emma was sleeping on.
But this—this was something different. He put his arm around Juliet, dropping a kiss on her head. He opened his mouth to say I love you, but the words wouldn’t form.
Instead he heard the words she’d spoken earlier.
Just good enough.
Juliet Sheehan had never settled for just good enough in her entire life. She demanded perfection for herself and for everything she did. So why was she suddenly willing to settle?
A fresh wave of doubt crashed the pocket of peace he’d found this afternoon, shattering it. Maybe it had all been an illusion, like the illusion that they were happy. Like the illusion that they were a family.
He hugged Eleanor closer to his chest and stood. “I’m going to take her inside and tuck her in bed.”
Jules smiled up at him. “Sweet girl. She’s had a busy day. I’ll be up with Emma in a few minutes. It’s getting chilly out here and we have a big day tomorrow. I’ll be leaving before dawn to get ready for the menu tasting tomorrow night.”
“I’ll manage the girls in the morning.” A statement that would’ve been so foreign to him even a few months before, but now Cam was adept at bottles and diapers and three-year-old hair bows.
The sleepy puppy stood and yawned before following Cam across the yard and into the house. As Cam closed the door, he could see Juliet silhouetted in the swing, one foot tucked underneath her. He wondered what she was thinking, and if her thoughts followed his. Was she wishing things were different? Or wishing they could stay the same?
Cam had married her for the sake of the children. Maybe he should leave her for her own sake. He didn’t doubt that Juliet believed she loved him, but would there come a day when settling for the life that had been chosen for her wouldn’t be enough?
He knew he should lay it all on the table and give her a choice, a real choice, like she’d given him when she’d asked him to marry her.
He just didn’t know if he was strong enough to do it.
Chapter Seventeen
The next morning, Cam found himself with two little early risers. Early risers who’d been fed and dressed and were bored with their toys with an hour still to pass before preschool started.
Eleanor’s tablet needed charging, a fact that had her searching for entertainment, which mostly consisted of annoying her sister and the dog. She tried to annoy Cam, but when he refused to be baited, she went for shock and awe, dumping her juice all over the brand-new carpet in the living room.
“Eleanor!”
She scowled at him and released the cup, sending it splashing into the pool of apple juice.
He picked the baby up from the floor, buckled her into her infant car seat and pointed at the garage door. “Let’s go. Now, Eleanor.”
“Where we going?” His niece frowned at him and crossed her arms. She stopped short of stomping her patent leather–clad foot in the puddle of juice, but just barely.
“To the park.” Anything to save his sanity. Cam grabbed their diaper bags from the hook and opened the door. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into Eleanor, except for the fact that
three-year-olds were apparently moody little creatures. He’d heard Claire refer to one of her toddlers as a three-nager but hadn’t understood the reference. Until now.
He snapped Emma’s seat into its base in the back seat of the van, then lifted Eleanor into her seat on the other side and buckled her in. He touched her nose. “All set.”
The playground in Red Hill Springs was right behind the library, so Cam pulled into the parking lot there and unloaded the girls. A few minutes later, both of them were cheerfully swinging in the toddler swings. He wasn’t sure how long it would last, but for the moment, at least, they were happy.
He was just down the street from the café, where Juliet would be preparing the staff and prepping for the night’s menu tasting. She’d be making last-minute adjustments, and he imagined that, even though she was in her element, she’d be feeling nervous.
She didn’t need to worry. He’d done a last walk-through on Friday. Her vision for the Hilltop had come to life and it was amazing. They would have their party tonight, with the tasting menu, and if all went according to plan, she’d be opening the café to the public a week from today.
“Higher!” Eleanor kicked her feet. He obliged, giving both her and Emma another push before going around in front of them to tickle their toes and make them squeal.
Cam laughed and replayed the scenario again. And again. It was such nice weather, he was glad he’d gotten the girls out of the house. People were walking on the track that circled the grassy area where he and the guys played soccer on Saturdays. In the field today, a mom was coaching her preschooler on how to hit a baseball off a tee.
It was the kind of scene that made a person who’d spent the majority of his adult life outside the country feel a little patriotic, a little apple pie and ice cream. He grinned at the thought. Small-town life was making him sentimental.
He glanced up and noticed a woman on the porch of the library staring at them. She was holding her cell phone up at an angle that almost looked like she was taking pictures of him with the girls. That was strange.
He was used to getting some curious looks—after all, he was a well-known author and people often recognized him, even if they didn’t remember from where. But this was different. The skin prickled on the back of his neck.
“It’s time to go, girls. Eleanor, time to go to school.”
“No!” His niece screamed the word.
He picked Emma up from the swing and tried to figure out how he was going to get Eleanor out without her cooperation. He finally figured he couldn’t, not while holding Emma. He placed the toddler on her feet, waiting for her to find her balance, then turned back to Eleanor.
“Come on, El. We’ve got to go.”
She grabbed hold of the chains. “I don’t wanna go!”
Well, so much for his hopes of not causing a scene. A couple moms with strollers had slowed their morning walks and were watching the action unfold as Eleanor screamed and Emma toddled off.
“Emma, come back, honey.” He had to get out of here. Sweat beaded across his forehead. There was nothing to be done but to peel Eleanor’s fingers from the chains one by one. He lifted her from the seat and she kicked him square in the solar plexus. His breath rushed out with an oomph.
And Emma was halfway to the slides.
With Eleanor still flailing in his grasp, he ran toward Emma, scooped her into his other arm and headed for Juliet’s minivan in the parking lot.
Eleanor screamed, “Stop it! You’re not my dad!”
He went hot. Perfect.
“You’re not my dad!”
The moms were gawking and the woman on the library porch had her phone to her ear. He struggled toward the minivan, trying desperately not to drop one of the kids. It was only about fifty feet away, but it seemed like a mile, with Eleanor squirming in his arms.
He stepped off the grass and into the parking lot—almost there—just as two black-and-white patrol cars pulled up, blocking his path. One of the officers got out and walked toward him. The other stayed behind the open door to his patrol car, his hand on his unsnapped weapon.
Cam’s skin went clammy. He knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, but in his mind, he was catapulted back in time to the fifteen-year-old kid who lost his whole family over a handful of dollars and some change.
He tried to tell himself he was a professional now, respected in his field, but the cops didn’t know that. Cam pushed back against the overwhelming feeling of being “found out,” even though no crime had been committed.
“Sir, keep your hands where we can see them.”
Eleanor stopped struggling and stared at the cop, her little dark eyebrows folding into a scowl. He hitched her up into a more secure position on his hip. “Can I help you?”
“We got a call that there might be a kidnapping situation in the park. Are these your children?” The cop looked at Cam with suspicion, his weight shifting, body tense and ready to react.
Cam’s heart thundered in his chest, adrenaline spiking, sending the message to his muscles: Run. Get himself to safety—get the girls to safety. He knew rationally that running was the absolute wrong thing to do, but his body was telling his mind something different.
He narrowed his focus. Stay present. Here and now. Answer the question. “The girls are my nieces.”
Eleanor took the small lull in conversation as her cue to start screaming again. “Don’t wanna go! Don’t wanna go!”
The cop’s right eyebrow shot up, his skeptical gaze traveling between Cam’s brown skin and the girls’ peaches-and-cream complexions. Cam sighed. “Their mother was my half sister. Different fathers.”
He could barely keep his grip on the children as Eleanor kicked and Emma squirmed to get down. “Look, this is not a great time to have a discussion about my parentage. I appreciate your concern for the girls’ safety, but I need to get them to preschool. Sir.”
He took a step toward his car and the officer jumped forward, one hand out, the other hovering over his weapon. “Stop right there. We’re not done yet.”
At the harsh tone, Emma started to cry. Eleanor, for all her screaming to get down, couldn’t scramble back into his embrace fast enough. She huddled against him, her wet face pressing into his shirt. A slow anger started to burn in Cam’s gut and he tamped it down. He could not let anger show on his face or in his own body language.
The girls’ safety was at stake.
He lifted his hands the best he could with Emma and Eleanor in his arms. “Okay, okay...okay. I’m not going anywhere.”
Cam realized a small crowd had gathered to watch the commotion, adding to the danger and humiliation. At least one of them was filming with her phone, which escalated everything and put the girls at further risk.
He took a deep breath and willed his shoulders to relax. “We can settle this with one phone call. Just call your boss. Chief Sheehan is my brother-in-law. I’m married to his sister Juliet, and these are her kids. Our kids.”
The two cops exchanged a look and the one closest to him nodded for the other one to make the call. Cam couldn’t hear much except for a lot of “Yes, sirs” and a final “Copy that.” The officer ended the call, put his phone in his pocket and walked over to Cam, a jerk of his head sending the other police officer back to his car.
“I’m very sorry to inconvenience you, Mr. Quinn. You have my apologies, the apologies of the Red Hill Springs Police Department and the personal apology of Chief Sheehan.” The young cop’s face was ruddy, sweat breaking out across his forehead. “It was our mistake.”
“I’d just like to go now.”
When the officer stepped aside, Cam opened the door to the van with his key fob and buckled the girls into their car seats as fast as humanly possible. Emma was still crying, a pitiful soft keening. He tucked a pacifier in her mouth and her wails turned to sniffles. He rubbed sweaty curls away from her foreh
ead. “It’s okay. You’re okay, baby.”
Inside he was seething. Those people had put him and the girls in a humiliating, if not dangerous, situation. What if he hadn’t had the chief of police as his brother-in-law? What then?
He sat in the driver’s seat and tried to start the car, but his hands were shaking too badly. Sorry to inconvenience you? While one officer had stood there with his hand on his gun? He’d been scared out of his mind that something would happen and he wouldn’t be able to protect the girls.
Unfortunately, this kind of thing was all too common. He thought about the woman on the porch of the library, ready and waiting with her phone before Eleanor even kicked up a fuss. He was lucky it had ended the way it did.
Eleanor was silent in the back, staring blankly at the seat in front of her. He’d give anything to turn back time and stay at home, where her biggest problem was that her tablet wasn’t charged.
His heart ached.
And that wave of doubt he’d felt the night before was now more like a tsunami. Those police officers hadn’t seen a professional author. They hadn’t seen him. He may as well have been the fifteen-year-old kid with a mayonnaise jar full of one-dollar bills.
He lowered his head to the steering wheel. How could he ever hope to be enough for them if a simple trip to the park was impossible?
How could he ever hope to be enough?
* * *
The café was sparkling tonight. Their guests were oohing and aahing over the newly remodeled space and the deck beyond, where a cozy fire burned in the outdoor fireplace.
Jules slid through the crowd, accepting compliments and congratulations. She’d prepared the workers in the kitchen well and they were replenishing the trays on the long counter, which held bite-size pieces of the food that would be on the regular menu at the Hilltop when they opened next week. She wanted the people in attendance to leave craving more, so that they would come back.
The Marriage Bargain Page 15
