by Debbie Mason
Caine interrupted Theia. She’d spent the past year lying because of him, and he wouldn’t make her do it again. Besides, she was right. He needed to be the one to tell Evie. He didn’t want her to hear it from someone else. Not because he thought they had a future together but because he’d already hurt her once today by downplaying their night together. “Evie, I’m a Gallagher. I’m Theia’s cousin.”
She blinked. “Oh, I, uh, wasn’t expecting that. Now that you mention it, I can see the resemblance. You have the Gallagher-blue eyes. But I don’t understand. If they’re your family, why are you trying to destroy them?”
“I’m not trying to destroy them. I—”
“His grandmother is, and she’s using him to do her evil bidding. She’s brainwashed him into believing the Gallaghers deserve to lose everything, and she won’t be happy until they do. Maybe he’ll listen to you, Evie. Because he won’t listen to me. His grandmother is a sociopath, and she needs to be stopped before she hurts somebody. Before she hurts him,” Theia said, then burst into tears.
Stunned by her emotional display, it took a moment for Caine to react. Shaking off his shock, he walked to Theia and took her in his arms. “T, you’re getting worked up over nothing. Emily won’t hurt me. She can’t. Please stop crying. You’re going to make yourself sick.” He patted her back, looking to Evie for help.
“It’s okay. It’s just the baby. She—” Evie pressed a hand to her mouth, casting an apologetic glance at Theia. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to tell him, but he’s obviously worried about—”
“A baby. You’re having a baby?” He held Theia away from him, his gaze moving from her tear-filled eyes to her flat stomach before jerking back to her face when the reality of the situation hit him. “You’re having a baby and you’ve been living in a mold-infested manor!” he practically roared. He pulled out his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m calling Marco, and we’re moving you out of the manor today. Now. This very minute.”
“Good. That’s a great idea,” Theia said, wiping her face on her sleeve.
“And don’t try to…Wait a minute. What did you just say?”
“I said it’s a great idea.”
“It is?” he said, thinking his best friend was losing her mind, and he blamed it entirely on Marco and the mold.
“Yes, it is. Because now you can stay in the tower room while you complete your second angel assignment.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Evie sat at the kitchen table watching Caine prowl from one end of the room to the other like an angry lion trapped by his feelings for his best friend. It amused her that, for a smart man, he couldn’t see that Theia was playing on his emotions and his concern for her.
His vulnerability surprised Evie. Though she supposed it shouldn’t. She’d seen hints of his softer side. A man couldn’t be as thoughtful or as generous as Caine without having one. It’s just that he was exceptionally good at convincing people otherwise. The better to keep them at arm’s length, she thought.
But his worry over Theia was real. Evie had known they were best friends, but she hadn’t seen them interact much before today. She was envious of their friendship. It was a rare gift to find someone who you knew with complete certainty would stand by you no matter what. It was just one more side of Caine that Evie could have done without seeing.
She was halfway in love with him. Something she hadn’t truly realized until she stood outside watching the men put up the Christmas lights. Yet it wasn’t until Caine dismissed their night together as if it had been nothing more than a one-night stand that she’d understood how quickly she’d gone from crushing to caring to falling. She wasn’t all the way there, so it wasn’t too late to save herself from potential heartbreak. She’d have enough to deal with if she lost Holiday House. She didn’t need to lose Caine too.
“Would you explain to the crazy pregnant woman that I can’t fulfill the second angel assignment at the manor, so there’s no reason to stay there? And while you’re at it, can you explain to her that her hormones are messing with her mind and there’s no such thing as ghosts?” Caine said to Evie.
“Please don’t talk about the crazy pregnant woman as if she isn’t here.” Theia waved her spoon. She was sitting with her feet up on a chair, eating candy-cane ice cream. “And second…” She frowned. “Does anyone else hear scratching and meowing?”
Evie looked for Bruiser on his favorite braided rug by the window, but he wasn’t there. “Where’s Bruiser?”
“After staring at that spot on the floor for about fifteen minutes, he took off.” Caine pointed at a patch of faded tile near the refrigerator, then walked to the back door. He opened it and looked down. “I don’t bloody believe it.”
“Whose cat is that? And why did you just let it in my house?” Evie asked, staring at the black cat who padded across her kitchen to the exact spot Caine had just pointed at. The cat sat down.
“You see! She’s here. Standing right there,” Theia said.
“It’s Simon. From the manor,” Caine explained to Evie. “And I couldn’t very well leave him outside. His paws appear to be frozen.”
Theia took off her jacket and went to wrap it around Simon. “The story goes that he arrived at the manor just days before Colleen died and was with her when she did. He went and got help for her, didn’t you, Simon? And now you’re here to bring her home. She must have hopped a ride with you,” Theia told Caine.
“You do know how crazy you sound, don’t you?” Caine said, though he didn’t sound as convinced of that as he was before.
“GG, if you want Caine to fulfill your angel wish, give us a sign,” Theia said.
Simon meowed.
“Sorry, that doesn’t count…” Caine trailed off as the pink angel that he’d left on the counter floated to his feet. “The wood around the windows are rotting. It’s the draft that made it fly.”
“Well, that settles that. You’re off to the manor to perform your second angel assignment,” Theia said cheerfully.
Caine crossed his arms and looked at Evie. “There’s no sense in asking you for help, is there? There’s no way the Gallaghers will let me win this assignment.”
“I don’t think that’s true. But obviously I have more faith in you—and in them—than you do. However the angel wish came about, it’s meant for your benefit, Caine. Just like Jamie was.”
“You know that makes you sound as crazy as Theia, right? Because that sounds like you want me to win my second angel assignment.”
“I absolutely do.” She smiled. “And since you’re always telling me that money can solve any problem, prove it. Get the health department to rescind their order so that you can bring Christmas back to the manor.”
* * *
Colleen smiled as she followed Caine into her tower room after arriving back from her trip to town and to the Bridgeport Hotel. “You could have knocked me over with a feather when I found out my great-grandson owned our biggest competitor, Simon. Honestly, what the Elliots wouldn’t do to get their revenge. Well, that’s all in the past—of that I’m certain. The family will win Caine over in no time at all. Though it might take longer for the lad to gain Jasper’s trust. He wasn’t exactly welcoming, now, was he? I think he may have hurt Caine’s feelings. Sophie wasn’t much better. I suppose I can’t blame them for being less than friendly after he got the manor closed down. Thank goodness Evie got Caine to make the call to the health department. Though it sounded like he had to grease a few palms to get them to rescind the order. I guess he proved to Evie that money comes in handy after all.”
She glanced over her shoulder at Simon, who was following her. “Did you see what I did? The two of them are head over heels and don’t even know it.” Colleen smiled as she flopped down on the couch. “I haven’t had that much fun in years. Wasn’t it grand to be out and about, Simon?”
He lifted a whiskered brow as he stretched out on the back of the couch. “Not so grand for you,
I suppose. But your paws seem to be none the worst for your frostbite. I hope you know I appreciated you coming after me. I must have given you a fright.”
From where she lay, Colleen watched her great-grandson bang about. “He’s not thrilled the ladies in his life have put him in this position, is he? It’ll be for the best, laddie,” she called out to Caine, testing to see if he could hear her. He showed no sign that he had, and Colleen wasn’t surprised. Gadding about had cost her her strength. “It’s a good thing the family won’t be needing my help this evening. I—” She sat up. “Simon, I think there’s someone in my closet.”
She looked to see if Caine had noticed, but the lad had his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder, allowing him to talk while at the same time unpacking his bag, from which he pulled Colleen’s memoir. He left her book on the end of the bed while continuing to settle into the room. With a shaving kit in hand, he walked into the en-suite bathroom. As he did, a redhead popped out of the closet. Clio. The girl tiptoed to the bed to retrieve the book, but just as she reached for it, Caine said, “Give me a second, and I’ll grab the information for you.”
At the sound of him returning to the bedroom, Clio dove under the bed.
* * *
“Thank God,” Caine said when he opened the tower room door to see Evie standing there. She wore a red ski jacket and a knitted hat and held a take-out bag in her mittened hands. He pulled her inside. “I’ve never been so glad to see someone in my life.”
“Are you talking about me or your burger and fries?” She held up the bag.
“Both.” He grinned, then kissed her because he really was glad to see her. He felt like he was in the enemy camp, and it was good to see a friendly face. How she’d ended up being the first person he thought of when he was sitting alone and feeling sorry for himself, he didn’t know.
“You do realize that the manor has a dining room and the food is very good, don’t you? I’m pretty sure you can get room service too.”
“I don’t trust them not to poison me,” he said, only half-joking. “Jasper and Sophie aren’t exactly thrilled that I’m here.”
“You didn’t tell them you’re Colleen’s long-lost great-grandson, did you?” she said as she took off her hat and coat.
“No, I didn’t. And give me those.” He put the bag of food on the dresser and motioned for her hat and coat. “I think the room is haunted.”
“Maybe you have—”
He held up a finger. “Don’t mention the R-word.”
“I was going to say the M-word, but I’m sure Simon would have taken care of either problem.” She nodded at the cat stretched out on the back of the couch as she pulled off her boots and smiled. “I hope you’re prepared to share. I’m starved.”
She wore a pair of faded jeans and a red sweater that made her look soft and womanly, and suddenly he wasn’t hungry for food anymore. He’d been going to suggest they eat on the bed, but he no longer thought that was a good idea. “I might be able to spare some fries,” he said, picking up the bag from the dresser.
“You should grab a towel so we don’t get crumbs on the bedspread,” she suggested as she crawled onto the middle of the bed.
“Right.” He leaned across to hand her the bag and then walked into the bathroom, thinking a cold shower might be in order. His stomach growled, reminding him he was indeed starved.
Both his desire and appetite vanished when he returned to the room to discover Evie propped against the pillows reading The Secret Keeper of Harmony Harbor. Her wide eyes moved to him. “Um, have you read this? The title is not a lie. Colleen knew everyone’s secrets.”
“I haven’t had a chance. I planned to read it tonight,” he said, unable to keep the irritation from his voice.
“I’m sorry.” She closed the book and put it on the nightstand. “I shouldn’t have picked it up. It was just sitting there, so I assumed—”
“No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just that I’m not looking forward to learning what happened to my grandmother at the hands of the Gallaghers. It was pretty awful from what she’s told me.”
“Maybe it would help if we read it together. That way you’d have someone to talk to about it. Sometimes it helps to get another person’s perspective. Someone who’s not emotionally involved.” She kept her eyes on the towel as she helped him spread it and then set about laying out the food. “Just a thought,” she said.
“A good one. If you’re willing to hang around for a bit, I’d like you here when I read the book.” He hadn’t realized how apprehensive he’d been about reading the memoir until the weight lifted off his shoulders at Evie’s offer. He joined her on the bed, smiling at the double order. “You didn’t intend to make me share after all. You’re a keeper, Evie Christmas.”
“You’re easy to please,” she said, looking flustered.
“Far from it.” Their eyes met and held, and he was the first to break contact. If he didn’t, he was afraid he’d tell her he meant what he’d said. And not for the first time, he wished he could keep her in his life. Instead he took a bite of his burger.
She smiled at what must have been his expression of surprised delight. “Amazing, aren’t they? Jolly Rogers makes the best burgers. Fries are fantastic too.”
“I’ve heard they also make a brilliant Irish breakfast. Uncle Seamus has hit every pub and restaurant in town.” He frowned as she dipped her golden French fry in a container of something white. “What are you dipping your fries in?”
“Mayo.”
“No accounting for—”
She popped the fry in his mouth.
“I take back what I was about to say. You have excellent taste.”
They spent the rest of the meal talking about her day, about how her mother had surprisingly become quite the saleswoman and how Evie thought it was all thanks to his uncle’s influence. “And what are they up to this evening?”
“When I left, they were arguing over which movie to watch.”
“Are you okay with all the time they’re spending together? If you aren’t, I can talk—”
“No. Seamus is good for my mom. And I think she’s good for him. Did you notice he’s not going to the pub as much?”
“I did. And I agree, although they’re complete opposites, they seem to be good for each other.”
“There’s a reason opposites attract, I guess,” she said, then became overly interested in the pattern on the red-and-gold comforter.
It wasn’t hard to understand why. Like Seamus and Lenore, he and Evie were each other’s opposites. He opened his mouth, thinking they needed to talk about it, about them and why there couldn’t be a them. He’d messed things up earlier today and didn’t like how he’d left things.
But apparently Evie didn’t want to talk about it because she began cleaning up the wrappers and containers. “You’d better wash your hands before you pick up the book. You don’t want to get grease on the pages.”
“Right.” He gathered up the towel and went to the bathroom to shake it off in the tub before doing as she suggested.
She did the same, then rejoined him on the bed. “You can tell me if this is none of my business, but I have heard a little about this book. You don’t live in Harmony Harbor long before someone brings it up. I heard it was missing, yet…” She made an open-palm gesture to the leather-bound book now in his hands.
“Yeah, and from what I’ve heard, it would probably be best if it had stayed missing. I wouldn’t want to think what would happen if my grandmother got ahold of it. Promise you’ll keep this between you and me?” It was a stupid question really. He trusted her implicitly. He probably shouldn’t, but he did. And it was odd, because he didn’t trust easily.
“Of course. I’ve told you before that I’d never betray your confidence, and I won’t.”
“It’s not that I doubt you. It’s just, if word got out the book had been found, there might be people willing to do whatever they had to do to keep their secrets hidden. T
heia had the book. I don’t know how she got it, and I don’t really care. But as soon as I’ve read what I need to, I’ll return it to her to do with what she will. I trust her to do what’s right, and I think Colleen would too.”
“I think your great-grandmother would trust you to do what’s right with her memoir too, Caine.”
“I’m not so sure about that, but I appreciate that you think so. Now, when you were looking through it earlier, did you get an idea how she set it up? Was it alphabetically, by year, or—”
“By year.”
“Let’s open it in the middle and go from there. My dad would have been fifty-nine last month so that would mean she should have written about him and Emily somewhere around 1959 and 1960.” He flipped through, trying to look at dates without focusing on the stories of anyone who wasn’t an Emily or Killian. “There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing about them from 1959 to 1970.”
His phone vibrated on the bedside table with incoming texts. He glanced at the screen, groaning when they kept coming, and he tossed it on the bed. The phone slid off, falling onto the floor.
Evie put a hand on his arm. “Everything okay?”
“My grandmother found out about my latest angel assignment. She’s less than pleased I’m staying at the manor. Though I’m sure, in the next few minutes, she’ll figure out a way to use it to her advantage. Don’t worry about it,” he said when a frown furrowed Evie’s brow. He leaned over to grab his phone off the floor, only it wasn’t there. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow. She should be in bed by now anyhow. It’s almost one in the morning her time.”
Evie opened her mouth. Then, seeming to think better of it, she took the book from him. “Here, let me look,” she offered, and then, whether she did so to comfort him because she sensed he was upset or it was unintentional, she snuggled against him.
Distracted, he stopped patting the floor for this phone and put his arm around her shoulders, resting his chin on her head. “I’m glad you’re here.”
