At Hidden Falls (Angel's Bay Novel) (12 page)

BOOK: At Hidden Falls (Angel's Bay Novel)
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Nick’s gaze burned with an intensity that shocked her. Then his hands were on her hips, and his mouth was coming down on hers. The quick kiss she’d stolen turned into a full-blown, tongue-tangling, heart-stopping, breath-stealing inferno.

Nick couldn’t seem to get enough of her, pulling her against his hard groin, her body pressed against his from head to toes. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe; she could only feel. It was too much, yet it wasn’t nearly enough. She slipped her hands under his shirt, feeling the sleek, sweaty heat of his abs. He was a strong, physical man, and her body wanted to get a whole lot closer.

Nick groaned into her mouth, his hungry hands running through her hair, down her back, cupping her ass.

Rufus’s barking finally broke the spell. The dog barreled past her, the leash whipping her legs as he took off into the woods.

Isabella pulled away from Nick in shock. She had no idea what had set Rufus off. She couldn’t believe the old dog was even moving that fast.

Dazed, she glanced up at Nick. “I—I have to get him.” She took off after Rufus, trying to catch up with him before he got too deep into the woods.

Off the trail, the brush was thick, the tall trees throwing shadows in her path. When she came through a thicket, she stopped abruptly, shocked to see a beautiful waterfall that splashed into a large pool of clear, sparkling water.

Rufus was on the other side of that pool, barking at something in a tree. She knew she should grab his leash before he took off again, but the waterfall was mesmerizing.

She had the odd feeling that she’d been here before. As she stared at the falls, her body began to tingle the way it did when she touched something that triggered a vision. She wasn’t touching anything now, but she felt as if someone was touching her.

He pulled her into his arms with rough, needy hands. “You’re late,” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Alice wanted more alterations. She suspects something.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Even so, I shouldn’t have come. This is wrong. In my dreams I see disaster coming. There is nothing but pain.”

“You have such an imagination,” he said with a conciliatory smile.

“Sometimes they come true.” She wanted to make him believe her, but it was beyond him. He was too logical, and she didn’t want to drive him away or waste the little time they had arguing. Still, the worry gnawed at her. “I’m concerned about your sister. Caitlyn is getting into trouble with that boy—”

He put a finger over her mouth. “Shh. I don’t want to talk about my sister or anyone else.” He gazed into her eyes. “We might not have forever, but we have right now.”

She wanted more than just now, but she loved him too much to ask for what he couldn’t give. “Yes. Right now,” she whispered as he pulled her into the dark alcove behind the falls.

“Isabella?”

Nick’s voice snapped her out of her reverie. He gave her a questioning look, then moved across the clearing to grab Rufus’s leash. The dog was pawing at the trunk of a large tree, barking at the cat just out of reach.

She walked over to join them. Joe had warned her that Rufus loved to chase cats, but she hadn’t expected to come across any in the woods. The cat leaped onto another branch and then sped away. Rufus barked in dismay and sank to the ground as the cat disappeared.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the leash from Nick’s hands. “I didn’t know Rufus could move that fast.”

“Apparently, he can when he wants something. Kind of like you.”

She wasn’t sure what to say, so she changed the subject. “I had no idea there was a beautiful waterfall just off the trail.”

“That’s why they call it Hidden Falls. We used to come up here in high school. It was a good place to drink, make out, and tell ghost stories.”

“I can imagine.”

“Are you all right?” Nick asked, his eyes curious.

“Of course.”

His eyes narrowed. “About what happened before . . . it was a mistake.”

“It didn’t feel like a mistake,” she said, meeting his gaze. “It felt amazing.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice husky. “But it’s over.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. I’m trying to figure out how to be a father to a daughter I barely know, I’ve got my crazy family to worry about, and it’s all I can handle.”

He was trying very hard to convince himself, but she could feel the swirling heat of his mixed emotions. As he turned to leave, she put a hand on his arm.

The flash almost blinded her.

Nick looked at her with desperation, his fingers biting into her skin, his voice raging with fear as he said, “Help me.”

She let go of his arm with a shaky breath, her heart thumping against her chest, her blood rushing through her veins.

“What’s wrong?” Nick asked.

A dozen memories ran through her mind, other people looking at her with the same concern, the same question—other moments when she’d made the wrong choice, when she’d put her heart and her soul on the line.

“Nothing,” she said finally.

She could see the relief in his eyes when he said, “All right. Well, I need to go to work. I’ll get you back to the trail.” He took off at a brisk pace, giving her no choice but to follow. When they reached the trail, he asked. “You’ll be okay from here?”

“Yes.”

Nick sprinted down the path, kicking up a cloud of dust in his wake.

Rufus barked and gave her a questioning look, as if to ask her why she wasn’t following. “Don’t worry,” she told the dog. “He won’t get away. No matter how fast he runs.” Their story wasn’t finished yet, however much he wanted it to be.

Charlotte felt as if she was losing her mind. The baby’s screams hammered the ache in her head. Would he never stop? She juggled him in her arms, trying to soothe him with rocking, bouncing, and calming words. But nothing seemed to work. He’d been crying off and on all night. He’d slept two hours at the most, and she’d probably slept one, because between crying bouts, she’d stayed awake, listening to every breath he took.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” she told him. “I’ve fed you. I’ve changed you. I’ve burped you.” His bottom lip jutted out as he grabbed more air to cry with. “No, please, stop. Please, please, please.” Exhausted tears gathered behind her eyes as she sat down in the rocking chair.

She kept a steady rhythm, stroking his head with her fingers. An old song came to mind, and she began to sing, the words coming from some long-ago memory. It worked. After a few moments, his sobs turned to hiccups, then his eyes drifted shut, and he slept.

She let out a breath, afraid to move. But it seemed he’d finally worn himself out.

“I didn’t know you remembered that song.” Her mother stood in the doorway, an odd look in her eyes.

“I didn’t know I did, either, but the words just came back.”

“I used to sing you that song before you went to sleep.”

“Really? I don’t remember you singing to me.” The idea seemed rather extraordinary.

“I used to sing at the church, too. But then I got busy with you and your brother and sister and all your dad’s needs.” She sighed. “Those days seem like a million years ago.” Her soft, wistful gaze sharpened. “You should put him down. He’ll get used to you holding him, and he won’t be able to sleep on his own.”

“So far, he doesn’t seem able to sleep much at all.” But some obedient-daughter gene made her get up and put the baby in his crib. He squirmed for a moment, then went back to sleep.

As she moved across the room, she became very aware of her wrinkled pajama bottoms and her camisole’s odor of baby spit-up. She hadn’t brushed her teeth or her hair, and thank goodness she’d had her office reschedule her patients for the next few days. Because she would definitely not inspire anyone’s confidence.

Her mother, on the other hand, looked positively glowing. She had on a skirt and a silk blouse with high heels and panty hose. There was eyeshadow on her lids and gloss on her lips.

“Where are you going?” Charlotte asked as they walked into the hall.

Her mother flushed. “I have some things to do.”

“Like what?” she asked curiously. There was an almost guilty look in her mother’s eyes.

“I’m meeting Peter at Kellum’s Antiques. He needs my help picking out some furniture.”

Peter Lawson? No wonder her mother was blushing. The good-looking older man had been around quite a bit lately. Charlotte wasn’t sure how she felt about it. It was less than a year since her father had died, and her parents had been married for forty-plus years. It was difficult to imagine her mother with another man—any man.

“He seems to need your help a lot,” she commented as they entered the kitchen. She poured herself a cup of coffee, desperately in need of caffeine.

“He isn’t very skilled when it comes to decorating,” Monica answered. “You know how men are.”

Charlotte sipped her coffee and leaned against the counter, keeping her thoughts to herself.

Her mother cleared her throat. “We need to discuss what we’re going to do if Annie doesn’t come back.”

“Let’s not go there yet,” Charlotte said, cutting her off. “I don’t want to consider that possibility.”

“You can’t stick your head in the sand.”

Charlotte smiled at her mother’s choice of words.

“What’s so amusing?” Monica asked sharply, raising an annoyed eyebrow.

“The irony of what you just said. You’re the queen of not seeing what you don’t want to see.” She regretted the statement when she saw thunderclouds in her mother’s eyes. Monica Adams could dish it out, but she definitely couldn’t take it—especially from her middle and always-disappointing daughter.

“You’re the one who pretended she wasn’t pregnant for two months. Who was avoiding the truth then?” her mother challenged.

There it was—the elephant in the room they’d managed to avoid for so many years.

“And you’re the one who made me wait another month to go to the doctor, because you wanted to take me to someone out of town who didn’t know us, who wouldn’t spread my shameful behavior around,” she replied.

Her mother’s lips tightened. “You blame me for your miscarriage. But some things just aren’t meant to be. You were lucky.”

“Lucky?”
Charlotte echoed in shock and anger.

“Do you think you were ready to raise a baby at seventeen? Do you think you would have become a doctor—that your life would be anything like it is now—if you’d had that child? Because it wouldn’t have been. I know that for a certainty.”

“You can rationalize all you want, but you can’t diminish the pain I felt. I was carrying a child, and I lost it, because I was young and stupid and I let you talk me into keeping it a secret. I wasn’t feeling well. I needed to see a doctor. I never should have told you or let you make me wait. I should have gone on my own.”

“That wouldn’t have made any difference, and you know it. For heaven’s sake, Charlotte, you’re a doctor. Miscarriages happen all the time.”

Logically, she knew that, but her heart and her head had never been in agreement when it came to that tragedy. Because no matter how terrified she’d been of having a baby, she’d still grieved for the life she’d lost. She’d still felt responsible, because she’d done so many things wrong, made so many mistakes, not all of which she could blame on her mother. Worst, she’d gone through it all alone, because her mother had convinced her that no good could come of talking about it after the fact. It was better if she stayed silent. Maybe it had been better—for everyone else. But for her, the pain had eaten away a part of her heart that she could never get back.

It had been many years since she’d relived that pain. Taking care of Annie’s baby had brought back a lot of memories—apparently for both of them.

“Charlotte,” her mother said uncertainly. “We shouldn’t have started this now. You’re tired, and I’m on my way out.”

“This conversation has been a long time coming.” She paused. “I know that the miscarriage was probably inevitable, but you were wrong to keep me from going to the doctor.”

Her mother’s face paled, her eyes dark beads of anger. “I did what I thought was best for all of us. And it was only a couple of weeks. You were a strong, healthy girl. I never thought you’d lose the baby.”

“But you were happy that I did.”

Her mother stared back at her. “What do you want me to say? I didn’t want that life for you, a single mother at seventeen. I wanted you to have more. And in the end, you got more. Things worked out the way they were supposed to.”

“The lie split us apart. And keeping it a secret from Dad hurt my relationship with him, too.”

“He would have been devastated if he’d known.”

“Is that what you honestly believe?”

“He was a man of God.”

“He was a man who understood that people sometimes make mistakes.”

Her mother crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Was it a mistake, Charlotte? Or was it deliberate?” she challenged. “Another act of rebellion?”

“You think I got pregnant to spite you?” She was amazed by the thought. “You never knew me at all.”

“You hated living under our rules. You were always challenging me. You could never just go along, to trust that I knew what was best for you.”

“You didn’t always know.”

“Yes, I did. I was your mother. I did for you what you’re doing for Annie’s baby. I stayed up all night while you cried. I held you and rocked you and fed you, and I loved you every second of your life, from your very first breath.” Her mother’s voice shook with emotion. “I wanted you to have everything, Charlotte. The world would be yours. You would be happy. You would be successful. But you wouldn’t listen to me. You fought me at every turn. And as you got older, you looked at my life and decided you didn’t want anything to do with it.” Her gaze burned into hers. “Do you think I didn’t feel your judgment?”

“My judgment?” she echoed in astonishment. “You were the one who criticized
me.”

“And you did the same, every time you defied me. You didn’t want the life I wanted to give you.” She took a deep breath, then said fiercely, “Whatever I did, I did because I loved you. And I wanted to protect you, so I made rules. I was willing to let you hate me, if it meant you’d have what I wanted you to have. But you couldn’t understand that.”

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