“But Emma, don’t you think—”
“No…” Emma said sharply. “Please, can we go to the car? I’ll deal with everything later.”
“Putting it off won’t make it any easier.”
“Mom…please,” Emma whispered, feeling as though she might have a nervous breakdown at any moment. “I can’t.”
Her mother sighed and then swept her into a hug. “All right, honey. Let’s go.”
The burial was to be held at Bonita Valley. Emma followed silently as they trooped back down the block to her mother’s car. Then they joined the processional of vehicles heading toward the final resting place of Thomas and Mona Bertram. Emma could only hope that once she could no longer see the two caskets, she’d be able to deal with everything else.
Like how to cope with two young girls who had lost everything, when Emma didn’t know how to cope herself.
Chapter 3
I’m half orphan…
Emma watched her father’s casket disappear into the ground, along with any chance she’d ever had of repairing their relationship. Mona’s matching casket was being lowered right beside it. Once more, a giant fist clamped around her heart, and she gasped from the almost physical pain.
Maybe she was she having a heart attack. Is this what one felt like? She was only thirty. Healthy, thirty-year-old women didn’t have heart attacks. Did they?
She shook her head and tried not to think about the horror her father and stepmother must have felt as headlights glared into their windshield. Maybe…hopefully…there hadn’t been time for them to feel anything. Maybe they’d never seen the danger coming at all.
Emma swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. She wondered if perhaps she was trapped in a horrible nightmare. Maybe none of this was real and she was merely asleep on board the Queen’s Ransom.
No, the devastation on the faces of her half-sisters was real enough. She gazed at them from across the gravesite. Imogene had dark hair that flowed just past her shoulders in a smooth curtain, and she was already about three inches taller than Emma. Meanwhile, Paige was a carbon copy of Mona, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed china doll. The girls looked nothing alike. Not that they should since Imogene had been adopted, but the contrast was still striking.
Emma wished she could say or do something to ease their pain, but other than the brief encounter in the church, they hadn’t even looked at her. It was clear the two girls had forged a unit that didn’t allow strangers in, and as far as they were concerned, Emma was a stranger.
She swallowed her guilt over evidence of yet more relationships she’d allowed to molder and looked away. Just when she was about to collapse in a heap of hysterical wails, Emma’s mother reached for her hand. The touch calmed her nerves, and she took several deep breaths and then glanced over.
“Hold it together a little longer,” Mary Bertram silently communicated with just a lift of her brow.
Emma managed to smile back in silent thanks. If her mother could endure being back in Shellwater Key, then Emma could, too.
She closed her eyes. Prayed.
When she looked up, her gaze landed on Reece Casings. While she might have been able to avoid talking to him after the service, she couldn’t dismiss his presence here. She also couldn’t miss the grief in his eyes when he looked at the twin gravesites. It was obvious he’d been close to her father and Mona. Emma wondered how he’d come to work for her father. Why would a young, single man choose to live in a place like Shellwater Key anyway?
At that moment, Reece looked up, and their gazes clashed like swordsmen engaged in a fight. Emma imagined she could almost hear the sharp clink of steel. He frowned and even through his grief, it was clear he was still annoyed with her. Emma was annoyed with herself. It wasn’t like her to run. As a woman working in a profession dominated by temperamental, ego-driven men, she couldn’t afford to be seen as weak. However, the feelings stirred up by Reece Casings scared Emma to death.
Pulling her gaze away, she concentrated once more on the gravesite. Mercifully, the ceremony was concluding. The minister said a final prayer, and then Emma, her sisters, and Reece Casings tossed flowers into the open grave. She noted once more that Mona’s mother was still absent, but Emma’s own emotional turmoil was too raw to puzzle out why the girls’ grandmother would miss the funeral.
Finally, the guests began to walk back to their cars. Someone led the girls away, but Emma didn’t move. Couldn’t move.
Until her mother finally grabbed her arm. “Emma, come on now. There’s going to be a small reception at the house that we need to get through. Just a little while longer and then we can go back to the inn and hide out.”
“Did you say hide?” Emma asked, head swiveling around.
Her mother clucked her tongue. “I meant get some rest. It’s been a very long, difficult day.”
Emma looked back at the grave. “Do you think they knew they were about to die?”
“Oh honey, don’t do that.” Mary Bertram smoothed a strand of hair back, the way she’d done when Emma was a little girl. “You’ll drive yourself crazy.”
“Did he think about me, or only his other daughters?” Emma asked. “Did he remember what a colossal brat I was to him after the divorce?”
“I’m sure his only thought was regret that he wouldn’t have more time with all of you.”
Emma wrapped an arm around her mother’s waist. “Thanks again for coming. This can’t be any easier for you.”
A flash of dark emotion streaked across her face so fast Emma wasn’t sure she’d even seen it. “Where else would I be?”
Emma took another deep breath. There was no way to get out of the reception. She glanced up, trying to gather courage, and her gaze caught on a statuesque blonde standing a few feet away.
A smile blossomed on the woman’s face. “Hi Em.”
The voice and face were at once familiar, though it had probably been more than ten years since Emma had last seen Layla McCarthy.
“Laylee. What are you…how…oh my…” she breathed, wondering if her earlier wish had somehow been magically granted? How else to explain how her best friend was standing a few feet away?
Emma wasn’t sure who moved first, but in the next breath they were embracing. As Layla’s arms wrapped around her, it was as if a small part of Emma’s lost childhood returned to fill up the empty place in her heart.
Then Emma pulled back to gaze into Layla’s face. She was still gorgeous. Maybe even more so than she’d been as a teenager. “Look at you!”
“You too.”
“I’ve missed you—” they said in unison.
Thirty seconds and already they were completing each other’s sentences. Emma grinned. “It’s been too long. I don’t know what happened.”
“Life, I guess.”
A shudder shimmied down Emma’s spine, and she glanced over her shoulder toward the two graves.
Layla brushed a hand down Emma’s arm. “I’m so sorry. How are you holding up?”
“I don’t know yet. It still seems so unreal.”
“Layla…”
Emma stepped aside as her mother approached with arms outstretched. Layla seemed to sink into the embrace, and held on for a long time. Even in Emma’s numb state she couldn’t help but notice her childhood friend seemed more fragile than she remembered. Layla had always been a tower of strength and determination, the clear leader of their friendship pack. Now the armor she’d always worn seemed to be missing.
Emma’s mother eased back and framed Layla’s face. “Oh my lovely girl,” she said, eyes shining with tears. “How I’ve missed you.”
A choked sob escaped her lips, and for a moment Emma wondered if she might have to comfort Layla. Something traumatic must have happened.
Her mother seemed to notice, too. “You look troubled.”
Layla chuckled. “You haven’t seen me in over a decade, but you can read my thoughts?”
“I always knew you, Layla,” Mary Bertram said in a manner that ha
d Emma hiding a smile. Her mother did seem to have the ability to read minds. Emma hadn’t appreciated the trait as a teenager, but as an adult she found comfort in her mother’s discernment and wisdom. She also knew how lucky she was to have a loving, supportive mother. Especially when both Layla and Callie had had the exact opposite.
“Don’t worry about me,” Layla said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I just wanted to come for Mr. Bertram, and for Emma. I didn’t expect to see you.”
“It’s a blessing,” Mary Bertram said. She reached for Emma’s hand and pulled her into the circle. “If there’s anything good to come out of this tragedy, perhaps it’s you and Emma finding each other again.”
Layla smiled. “Maybe.” She glanced back to Emma. “Do you know how long you’ll be in town?”
“I’m not sure.” She would have to figure out how to get back to the Queen’s Ransom fairly soon. Isabella was an incredibly generous employer, but she wouldn’t hold Emma’s job forever. There were scores of chefs who would jump at the chance to sail around the world on a luxury yacht.
“What about your sisters?” Layla asked.
The sisters who wouldn’t speak to her? Who had probably been raised to hate her? Emma’s jaw clenched as she thought about their shattered expressions and how she was probably the last person they would turn to for help.
“I don’t know anything about that, either.”
Layla seemed to realize she’d stepped into something awkward. “Well, I’m sure there was a plan for them in place. Your father would have seen to that.”
“I suppose, but we didn’t—”
Emma broke off, the stifling guilt rising in her once more. She and her father had never talked about anything beyond general updates and inquiries about everyone’s health. Emma hadn’t allowed him in since the divorce. She stared at the ground and swallowed, trying to contain the growing emotion.
Luckily, something caught her attention. Reece Casings was standing a few feet away, and it was obvious he was waiting for her. He stood with legs spread and his arms folded across his chest, as if daring her to make a break for it again.
“Who is that?” Layla asked.
“My father’s law partner.”
Reece took a step closer, and then he dipped his head in a clear signal that he wanted her immediate attention.
“It looks like he’s waiting for you,” Layla said. “I should go.”
Layla turned to leave, but Emma reached out and clutched her friend’s hand. “I feel like you’ll disappear for another ten years if I let you go.”
Layla smiled. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll see you soon.”
Reece cleared his throat.
“Looks like I’m being summoned,” Emma said, eyes narrowing as her temper rose. What could be so important he had to stand over there like a Roman centurion?
Layla let out a soft chuckle before hugging Emma and her mother again. Then she walked away.
Emma wished she could follow. Instead she turned to confront Reece Casings. “What is your problem?” she asked as he closed the remaining distance between them.
Reece scowled. “My problem, Miss Bertram, is that you keep avoiding me,” he said. “I was afraid you’d take off again before I had a chance to speak to you.”
Emma’s hackles went up at the judgment she saw in his eyes, but she held her temper. The sooner she wrapped up this conversation, the sooner she could put some distance between her and the disturbing sensations Reece Casings stirred up. “Fine, so you caught me. What do you need to speak to me about?”
His glance went beyond her shoulder. “Perhaps your mother can go on ahead?”
Mary Bertram nodded. “Of course, I can—”
“There’s nothing you can’t say in front of her,” Emma said. “Why don’t you tell me what’s so important that it can’t wait until later?”
“Because later you might escape again,” Reece said dryly. “Judging by your past behavior, I wouldn’t be surprised if you took flight in the dead of night.”
She wouldn’t run like an escaped convict. Most likely. Her mother did have a room at the inn after all.
“I already told you I’m not going anywhere,” Emma said, fighting to hide any reaction. Fighting not to care that Reece Casings seemed to hate her. “At least not tonight.”
He glared down at her. “If I have my way, you won’t be going anywhere.”
“What does that mean?” Emma asked. “Are you going to lock me up or something? I’m not a prisoner, you know. My father and I didn’t get along, but that’s not a crime, and really it’s none of your business.”
“Everything having to do with you is now my business, Miss Bertram,” he said. “As executor of his estate, everything left behind after your father’s death is my business. Including your sisters.”
“Are you their guardian or something now?” Emma asked in confusion. “I thought Mona’s mother would have been named. Where is she, by the way? Why isn’t she here?”
He froze for a moment. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“Mona’s mother had a severe stroke about a month ago,” he said. “It was quite debilitating. She’s in a rehab facility right now, and it will be some time before they know how much function she might regain. She’ll probably never be able to live on her own again.”
“No, my father didn’t tell me.” Calls to her father had happened sporadically, especially once she’d started working on the Queen’s Ransom. Her sisters must have been devastated. Mona’s mother was practically the only relative they had. Her father had been an only child, and his parents had died when Emma was a little girl…
“Wait…” Emma said, a new kind of tension gripping her. “If she can’t take the girls, who will?”
Reece Casings simply looked down at her, his expression pointed, as if he were waiting for her to connect the dots.
When she did, a whole new level of panic swept over her. “No…” She shook her head. He couldn’t be saying… She couldn’t.
“Emma, there’s no one else,” he said, his tone gentler now, as if he didn’t want to spook her.
Oh, dear Lord, this was happening. “But there has to be.”
“I’m sure you know the extent of your father’s family,” Reece said, dipping his chin toward her in case she’d forgotten that fractured family tree included her. “Mona was an only child as well, and as you know, her father passed away years ago. There’s a distant aunt, but she’s not fit to take in two young girls, either.”
“I can’t take them,” Emma said, desperate to make him see the truth. “I work as a chef on a yacht.”
“That will probably have to change.” Reece Casings gazed down at her, his eyes warmer than they had been before.
“I don’t think I’m fit to raise two children.”
“Well, you’re going to find out. Imogene and Paige need you. You’re all they have left in the world.” He put a hand on her shoulder as if to emphasize the weight he was placing on her. “Emma, it’s time to step up and finally be part of the family you’ve ignored for years.”
Chapter 4
Oh, dad…what have you done?
Somehow Emma managed to stumble back to the car. Thank goodness her mother had insisted on coming because Emma was pretty certain she’d crash into one of those giant mausoleums if she attempted to drive.
“I can’t believe it,” she said, as her mother started the car.
“I’m shocked myself,” her mother said, as she guided the vehicle out of the cemetery and back toward town. “I guess I assumed their grandmother would take them. I thought it was strange that she wasn’t here today, but I had no idea about the stroke.”
“Neither did I.” Emma covered her face. “Mom, what am I going to do?”
Her mother didn’t answer.
She looked across to the driver’s seat. “Mom?”
Mary Bertram sighed. “Honey, those girls need you. I know you’ve always res
ented them.”
“That’s not true,” Emma burst out. Resenting two little girls was so childish.
She sent a ‘don’t try to fool your mother’ look. “I understand why you feel that way, but honey, you’re the adult here. You’re going to have to get over it and do what’s right.”
Emma pinched the bridge of her nose. “This can’t be happening.”
“Well it is, and the sooner you accept it, the better off everyone will be. Mr. Casings is right. Your sisters need stability right now. Their entire world has shattered.”
“Like mine did fifteen years ago,” Emma said, unable to stop the bitterness from pouring out.
“It’s not the same thing, and you know it,” her mother said in a sharper tone. “Your parents didn’t die. We got a divorce, but your father never stopped loving you.”
Even when perhaps she’d deserved it…
They drove in silence to the house her father had shared with his new family. Reece was waiting outside, probably to make sure she didn’t try to escape again. Like she could escape her duty. Emma got out and walked toward the man who both terrified and intrigued her. Terrified, because despite the animosity radiating off of him, Emma couldn’t help but be attracted. Intrigued, because she still couldn’t figure out why he cared so much about someone else’s family.
He stepped closer to intercept her before she went into the house. “I know there’s a reception going on, but I thought it might be a good idea if we talked a little more,” he said. “I’m sure this can’t be easy for you.”
“Good of you to acknowledge the inherent awkwardness of the situation,” Emma said, flinging some of her frustration and fear at his wide shoulders.
If her aim was to start a fight, Reece Casings didn’t deliver. Instead, his lips firmed, and he waved toward the house. “After you?”
How did he keep everything so bottled up? He was like a machine, with no feelings whatsoever. Except for the brief glimpse of anguish back at the gravesite, he hadn’t shown a flicker of emotion—if she didn’t count the flare of interest when she’d fallen into his arms at the church.
Straight on Toward Paradise Page 3
