Bittersweet Surrender (29 page)

Since it didn't look as though he would get to sleep anytime soon, Scott opted for a snack. He threw off the covers and walked into the kitchen. Superman trotted along behind. Flipping on the light, Scott reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice, tore a hunk from a block of cheese, and sat at the table.

Superman whined at his feet and Scott threw him a piece of cheese.

“What is the matter with me, Superman? This is Carly we're talking about.” Superman cocked his head to one side as though he was trying to understand what was going on, but Scott knew his dog really just wanted more cheese. He tore off another hunk and tossed it. Superman lapped it up midair.

Scott laughed. “Good catch.”

Images of C. J. at his house, the words he'd said about Ivy, caused anger to surge through Scott again. He still couldn't imagine Ivy breaking their marriage vows, but he was beginning to think he didn't know anything anymore. He would never have thought Gary would do what he did to Carly either. He and Gary had been good friends. He had tried to talk some sense into the man before he walked out on Carly, but Gary's mind had been made up. Scott knew Carly blamed her body on their breakup, but the truth was Gary had been keeping in contact with that gal in Estes Park for a while before Carly's cancer.

Of course, Scott hadn't known it at the time. Gary had told him just before he walked out. If Scott had known, he would have tried to help them much sooner, before things got out of hand. Scott had figured Gary had hit midlife and just gone a little crazy. He'd seen it happen before. Unfortunately, as it turned out, Gary had gone down the path of no return, leaving the wife of his youth to marry someone he hardly knew at the time.

Scott couldn't point fingers, though. If he didn't keep up his relationship with the Lord, he'd be just as tempted as the next guy. In fact, he had his own temptations to deal with, but he kept them at bay through constant prayer. He'd learned long ago he couldn't fight those things with mere human strength. It took a far greater strength.

Superman whined again and Scott looked down at him. “Okay, one more piece, but that's it.” Superman seemed satisfied and happily chomped on Scott's last offering.

After eating and sorting through some of his frustrations, he made his way back to bed. Lightning flashed outside his bedroom window. Hopefully, it wouldn't be a long night.

Thunder rumbled. Rain pelted the window
pane, waking up Carly. It seemed she had more and more trouble sleeping through the night, even through good weather. She decided there was no point in fighting it, pulled off her covers, and shrugged on her robe. Pinkie lifted her head, looked at Carly through sleepy eyes, then dropped her head back between her paws.

“Well, it's easy to see where your loyalties lie,” Carly said. She stepped into her slippers and decided on a cup of hot cocoa. That always made her feel better. She didn't care if she gained a pound over it. Right now her cup of cocoa seemed more important than Jake.

Obviously, they weren't ready for a marriage commitment.

Once she made her drink, she decided to go downstairs so she wouldn't disturb Magnolia. The thunder and lightning outside, coupled with the creaking stairs, made Carly feel a little creepy. She listened for the possible
rat-a-tat-tat
or a string of steady beats coming from the basement. The last thing she needed was to run into Magnolia tonight.

Pure silence. She sighed with relief. She was beginning to understand that whole “silence is golden” thing. Maybe now she would actually get some think time.

Settling in at the sofa in her office, she sipped her cocoa and attempted to work her way through her problems. Rita would be coming back soon. Only weeks ago Carly had lived alone and now she wondered if she should make her place into a bed-and-breakfast. Not that she minded. She was only too happy to help Rita—and Magnolia, too, for that matter. She just hoped they'd all get along well together.

She had to figure out a way to get C. J. his life back before he lost Rita for good. Maybe it was a good thing they didn't have children—at least at this point. Carly couldn't imagine Rita not being a part of their family. Maybe it was selfish on her part, but Carly figured she'd lost enough, and she wasn't about to stand by and do nothing at the risk of losing her sister-in-law too.

But where to begin? She couldn't exactly force C. J. to get professional help. And what was his secret? Something that he shared with Jake but no one else. He was obviously afraid Jake would tell her. So it must have something to do with the family. Something about Dad?

Lightning cracked and slashed a brazen light across the dark sky outside her window, causing Carly to jump. A droplet of hot chocolate spilled onto her hand. Everything made her jumpy these days.

She'd have to talk to C. J. when he was sober. Maybe she could get him to tell her what the problem was, and they could work through it together.

Then there was Jake. Did he care about her, truly, or was she just a pastime, someone who could help with Katelyn till he figured out what he wanted to do with his life? And just how did she feel about him? She'd thought she knew. Now she wasn't so sure.

Her finger traced the bottom edge of her cup while she sorted through things.

Was Magnolia moved in for all eternity? Sure, Carly wanted to help her and was happy to have her in her home, but did the woman have any plans to leave anytime soon? Surely she wanted to get away from the spa smells so her allergies would settle down. Obviously, Carly couldn't stop her spa business for Magnolia.

She heard a noise in the hallway that had her nerves standing at attention. She stilled and listened. Nothing. No doubt just the storm or the house settling. That's what her dad had always called it when unexplained noises cropped up. “May as well expect it with an old house, Carly,” he had said. “When they get old, they groan just like we do.”

Another sound. Not drums playing, but rather like an eerie shuffling of feet or something. Maybe Magnolia had gotten up. Still, as tired as she'd looked last night, Carly doubted Magnolia would get up to practice drums tonight.

Adrenaline pulsed through Carly, tiny needles pricked her arms. Thunder growled low and menacing. She took deep breaths to calm herself, then stood up and carefully made her way out of the office, ears perked, her breath hovering in her chest. Just as she rounded the corner from the hallway, she came face-to-face with Magnolia. At least Carly
thought
it was Magnolia.

Her stepmother's finger curled around a silver candleholder that lit her way. Her long hair drifted across the shoulders of her white nightgown. A flash of lightning exposed the dark shadows beneath her sunken, hollow eyes. To say nothing of the olive oil on her face.

Despite her best intentions, Carly screamed. It was just a tiny one, and any other woman on the face of the earth would have done the same. For a moment she felt she was caught up in a scene of
Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein
. One thing she knew: this woman should never, ever go without makeup.

After she caught her breath, Carly suddenly realized Magnolia was still shuffling forward. Her gaze unwavering.

“Magnolia, what are you doing? You nearly scared the life out of me.”

Steady gaze forward. Shuffling. Shuffling.

“Okay, you're freaking me out. You stop that, right this minute, do you hear me?”

Shuffling. Shuffling.

Another smack of thunder and jolt of lightning sent chills scurrying up Carly's arms. She gulped and grabbed Magnolia's cold arm.

“Magnolia, so help me, I will eat three pounds of chocolate for breakfast if you don't wipe that ghoulish look off your face right this minute.”

Her stepmother blinked three times, sneezed softly, and looked at Carly.

“What are you doing down here? It's the dead of night,” Magnolia said.

Now Carly blinked. And just for the record she did not like that “dead of night” business. She opened her mouth to say something but barely a squeak escaped through her voice box.

“Come on, dear. You've worked long enough today. You'll catch your death of cold.”

Death of cold? This was getting way too freaky for Carly.

“Magnolia, do you realize you've been sleepwalking?”

Her stepmother put her hand to her chest. “Oh, dear. I thought I'd gotten over that.
Tsk, tsk
,” she said, shaking her head. She looked at Carly and shrugged. “I guess not. Oh well, keeps life interesting.” She gave a slight chuckle. “Time to get some rest.”

Magnolia took Carly's hand and pulled her toward the stairway. Thunder bellowed. Wind whistled. Panes rattled. Rain stormed against the rooftop. Lightning speared the darkness.

Drums in the middle of the night. Sleepwalking. Carly didn't want to find out what was next. The sooner she got Magnolia out of the house, the better.

“So how did you sleep last night, Magnolia?” Carly asked the next morning at breakfast.

“Oh, just fine, dear. How about you?”

Carly studied her. “Um, oh, fine.” She spread some butter on her wheat toast and sprinkled a little flaxseed on top. She wanted to ask her mother-in-law about the little sleepwalking adventure, but decided to let it, well, rest.

“So have you talked with Scott anymore about the coffeehouse name? If he doesn't agree to it soon, the pastor could pick another name. I will not be happy.”

Remembering how Magnolia looked sleepwalking, the mere thought of the older woman not being happy sent a shock of alarm through Carly. A bolt of reality hit her: too many episodes of
Murder, She Wrote
was to blame for all this—Carly's fear and Magnolia's stalking. Carly would have to get rid of cable, that's all there was to it.

“Not recently. I'll try to do it soon.”

Carly stared at Magnolia. She couldn't believe how much makeup helped this woman. One glimpse of her without her makeup had probably sent Carly's dad straight to be with the Lord.

If that's what eating healthy looked like, Carly wanted no part of it.

“So how was your weekend?” Carly asked
Scott on Monday morning.

He shrugged. “It was okay. How about yours? I brought the coffeepot in here. Want some?” Anything to keep his mind off her right now. Hadn't he seen that green top before? So why all of a sudden was he noticing the way it made the green in her eyes sparkle? He tried to shake his thoughts.

“My weekend was interesting. What? You don't want to hear it?”

He turned to her.

“You shook your head like you didn't want to hear it.” She pointed.

“No, I was just—I—no, that wasn't it.”

“Hearing bells, are we?” She grinned.

“Something like that. Now tell me about your weekend.” He walked her cup of coffee over to her.

“Thanks.” Her finger brushed against his when she reached for the cup, sending a tingling sensation up his arm. What was up with him? Maybe he needed a checkup. He hadn't had one in a while. His legs wobbled. Could be an age thing. Maybe he was exercising too much. Yeah, that was probably it.

She told him about Magnolia sleepwalking.

“I'm telling you, there's more to that woman than meets the eye,” Scott said, trying to act nonchalant though an avalanche seemed to be going through his body. He eased into the chair at his desk.

“I'm beginning to think you're right,” Carly said with a chuckle. “Say, Scott, just between you and me, what's holding you back from letting the church name the coffeehouse after Ivy?”

There was no accusation in her voice, so Scott tried to stay calm and figure a way out of this. He took a deep breath. “I don't know, Carly. You know how I feel about elevating people. I just don't think that's what it's all about.”

“I understand that. I really do,” she said after taking a drink from her mug. “It's just that it would mean so much to Magnolia. She has no one now and I just thought—”

Oh man, she was going for the gut here. He didn't want to hurt Magnolia, but it would hurt her more if she knew the truth. What if he said yes to the coffeehouse name and then the truth got out? It could be embarrassing for everyone involved—especially Magnolia. On the other hand, if the truth stayed hidden, it would make an old woman happy to know that someone remembered her daughter.

“Scott?” Carly's hand touched his arm and he jerked, bumped his cup and sloshed coffee across his desk. “Oh, I'm sorry.” Carly ran over to her desk, grabbed some paper towels, and came back to help him clean up the mess.

Why hadn't he noticed her walking to his desk? What was the matter with him? What was the matter with her, and what was she doing at his desk? She needed to keep her distance. He could clean this himself.

He shuffled through his papers to make sure there was no coffee on them and tried to ignore the light smell of her fragrance as it wafted over his desk. Her hand grazed his and it sent a powerful warmth through him.

He didn't like it.

Well, he tried not to, anyway.