Hunter's Bride and A Mother's Wish. Marta Perry
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bad.” Luke rubbed lotion vigorously on his neck and shoulders. “Not bad at all.” He held out the bottle to her. “Thanks, Chloe. I’m glad you pushed me into it, even if you were just trying to pay me back.”
She smoothed the lotion along her legs, watching the movement of her hand so she didn’t have to look at him. “I can’t imagine what you’re talking about.”
He grinned. “Chloe Elizabeth, your grandmother would be ashamed of you, telling such a big fib.”
The tension she had been feeling slipped away in the warmth of his smile. She leaned back on her elbows, lifting her face to the sun, and closed her eyes. Couldn’t she just enjoy the moment and forget about why they were here together?
“Tell me something, Chloe.”
She opened her eyes. “What?”
Frown lines laced between Luke’s brows. “Your father and his brother—what’s going on there?”
No, it looked as if she couldn’t just enjoy the moment. It was her own fault for mentioning Uncle Jeff. She might try telling Luke another one of her fairy tales, but she didn’t think he’d believe it. She could tell him it wasn’t his business—but she was the one who’d brought him here. Or she could tell him the truth and let him make of it whatever he wanted.
“My father and Uncle Jefferson don’t speak to each other unless it’s absolutely necessary.” She hadn’t realized how odd that sounded until she said it aloud to him. “I guess that seems strange to you.” She sent him a defiant look.
He leaned on his elbow, the movement bringing him close enough that she felt the energy radiating from his skin.
“I’d say it was strange, yes. How long has this been going on?”
“Since I can remember.” She swallowed, knowing that answer wasn’t all of it. “Since they were teenagers.”
He whistled softly. “That’s a long time to live in the same small community with your brother and not speak. What happened?”
“They quarreled,” she said shortly. She felt his gaze on her and knew she had to say the rest of it. “No one knows exactly why, but people guess over a girl. They seemed to go in opposite directions after that. My grandfather divided the family property between them. Daddy took the inn and Angel Isle. Uncle Jeff got the boatyard, the cannery and the real estate. He…well, my daddy would say he wheeled and dealed so much he forgot who he was. Forgot what it meant to live with honor.” She shrugged. “And Uncle Jeff thinks my daddy is old-fashioned, self-righteous…” She stopped. What was Luke thinking?
“Must be hard on your grandmother.”
He had hit on the sorest point. “Yes, it is. I wish I knew how to make it better, but I don’t.” She hated that helplessness.
He put his hand over hers. “I guess your family isn’t so perfect, after all.”
She sat up, yanking her hand away. “I never claimed it was.” Her resentment spurted. “I suppose yours is.”
“My family?” His mouth narrowed to a thin line. “No, Chloe, my family’s not perfect, either. Not by a long shot.”
A barrier had suddenly appeared between them. She couldn’t see it but she knew it was there. All the sunlight seemed to have gone from the day.
Secrets. She’d always known Luke had secrets to hide—always guessed it had something to do with his family.
But he wasn’t going to tell her, that much was clear. The illusion of friendship between them was just that—an illusion.
This was getting to be a habit. Luke sat on the porch late that afternoon, frowning at the computer screen. Once again, Chloe’s face intervened, hurt evident in her eyes.
He hadn’t meant to cause her pain with his questions earlier about her father. He’d just been curious, trying to figure out what made the sprawling Caldwell clan tick. But he should have realized he was prodding at a tender spot.
He glanced out at the water, absently watching a white sailboat curve across to the mainland. He hadn’t imagined it would cause Chloe pain to talk about it. He had no basis for comparison when it came to families, happy or otherwise.
All the more reason he shouldn’t get further entangled with Chloe and her family. He should let them get on with their work, while he got on with his.
He looked around, exasperated. The Caldwells were doing a fine job of that. Daniel and David had taken a few guests out on a dolphin cruise. Miranda had whisked out of the kitchen a few minutes earlier, deposited a pitcher of iced lemonade and a plate of molasses cookies at his elbow and disappeared again.
As for Chloe…he had to smile. Chloe was busy setting up a Web site for the inn. Her parents’ reluctance had been almost comical, but she’d finally gotten through to them. It looked as if Chloe had absorbed a bit about marketing from Dalton Resorts.
He was the only one not getting on with his work. He wanted—He wasn’t sure what he wanted, and that was an odd feeling.
Erasing the pain he’d seen in Chloe’s eyes might restore his balance. Then they could go back to their usual businesslike relationship, with no more delving beneath the surface to discover unexpected facets of each other. That would be far safer.
Two figures sauntered down the lane. The smaller one stooped to pick up a shell, then skimmed it out across the water. Sammy and Theo, obviously home from school. They turned, saw him, and seemed to hesitate, as if his presence disturbed their usual routine.
The yellow pup raced around the house, throwing himself at Sammy in an exuberant greeting. The boy dropped his knapsack and tussled with the puppy, then boy and dog raced toward him, with Theo following at a more sedate pace.
“Hey.” Sammy’s gaze fell on the plate of cookies. “Molasses. Bet my momma made those. She always makes them for guests.” He was obviously too polite to ask for one, but his eyes spoke for him.
“You’re right about that.” Luke slid the plate toward the boy. “I’m plenty full, but I don’t want to hurt your mother’s feelings by not eating these. You could do me a favor by taking some.”
Sammy nodded solemnly. “I guess that would be okay.” He took a handful of cookies, then smiled. “Thank you, sir.” Clutching the cookies, he whistled to the dog and then charged inside, the wooden screen door banging behind him.
Theo mounted the porch steps and leaned against the rail. “Sammy always acts like he hasn’t had a cookie in a week, but I happen to know Miranda put three in his lunch bag.”
Luke tried to picture a childhood in this place, where someone put homemade cookies in your lunch bag and you came home to the same welcome every day. He was watching it, but he couldn’t quite believe in it. People didn’t live like this anymore, did they?
Apparently the Caldwells did.
He expected Theo to hurry off, as Sammy had, but instead he lingered. Something self-conscious in the boy’s manner made Luke look more closely at Chloe’s little brother.
Theo had the height of his brothers, but his weight hadn’t caught up yet. He had the sun-bleached hair, too, falling on his forehead, and his father’s hazel eyes. But where the older man’s gaze was confident and unhurried, Theo had the eyes of a dreamer. A certain vulnerable something about his mouth reminded Luke of Chloe.
The silence stretched uncomfortably long between them. “So, how’s school?” A stupid thing to say, probably, but he didn’t seem to have any common ground with the boy.
Theo shrugged. “Okay, I guess, sir. Pretty boring, most of the time.”
“I remember that.” He’d usually found ways of livening things up that probably would never occur to Theo, and Chloe certainly wouldn’t thank him for bringing them up. “What do you