California Homecoming (18 page)

“But Sarah beat you to it.”

“Yeah.” He dropped his gaze to his hands, uncertain where to go with the conversation.

Elizabeth’s foot began to tap. “Your last name is Evans, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “I seem to remember something about your dad … and your mom. Oh — ” She broke off. “I’m not sure I should tell you this. They’re only rumors.”

“I’m sure I already know. My dad was cheating on my mother like crazy and she had an affair, or started to, when he found out.”

Elizabeth said, “I’m sorry you had to go through that, but we’re getting distracted. Rick hasn’t abused Sarah in any way, so don’t you think you should give them a chance?”

“I am.” He clenched his fist. “I leave when he’s due to show up and keep my relationship with Sarah above board.”

“But you’re living here.” Elizabeth’s voice had an edge to it.

“So is Mandy. Sarah and I are well-supervised.”

“Do you love her?” Elizabeth asked.

He was startled by the question. “Love never crossed my mind. It’s too early to know that.”

Liar.

Elizabeth smiled. “Oh, I don’t know. When the time is right, it seems to happen quickly.”

He shook his head and stood. “Not for me. I’m not here to seduce your daughter, or take her away from Rick. He’s got his shot with her. It’s up to him not to blow it.”

Elizabeth stood and peered into his eyes. He held her gaze. Finally, she nodded. “I’ll trust you. For now. Now, shall we join the others?”

He shook his head. “I’m going to stay out here for a bit. Got some thinking to do.”

She smiled. “You do that.” She went back into the inn.

The gardener’s truck pulled up fifteen minutes later. Gertrude got out, all leanness and capability. If she saw Hunter, she didn’t let on. Instead, she got her gear, loaded up the wheelbarrow, and headed in his direction.

“No need to move,” she said. “I’m working over there.” She gestured toward the far corner.

He laughed, but stood anyway. “If you come across an old tree house, it’s mine.”

“You used to live here?”

He nodded. “A long time ago.”

She stared at him unblinking. “Ah,” she said and pulled loppers from the wheelbarrow. Without looking at him she asked, “Was it bad? When you got your leg destroyed?”

“Bad enough.” He walked closer to her. “Sarah said your name is Gertrude, right?”

Gertrude nodded. “She’s a sweet girl, Sarah. The boyfriend is another matter. Self-centered.”

Exactly Hunter’s assessment.

“How’s your mother?” Gertrude asked.

“Do you know her?”

“Mmm.” Swaths of vines began to hit the ground.

“She’s not doing so well. Cancer.”

“I’m sorry.” Another bunch of branches came crashing down. “Why aren’t you going after what you want? Or are you too much like your mother?”

“What do you mean? How do you know my mother?”

Gertrude dragged the vines down the path to the parking lot, dumped them, and turned to face him. “She was in love with my brother.”

Hunter didn’t say anything as she walked past him. Instead, he lowered himself onto the bench. “Is he still around?”

Gertrude shook her head and tackled another patch of vines. “Killed in a car wreck on Highway 17 about six years ago. He never got over your mother. Couldn’t understand why she gave up.”

“She was
married.
”

“To a man who cheated on her every chance he got.” Gertrude glared at him, her hands on her hips. “That’s not a
marriage.
That’s torture.”

Time to turn the tables. “What made you become a gardener?”

“I needed something living in my hands. A year after my brother was killed, my oldest daughter died of cancer, and my husband left me for a younger woman. Sounds like a bad novel. It‘s even worse living it.” She tossed a stick toward the pile. “I used to be a research chemist up at the university.”

She stopped what she was doing and walked up to him. Sticking her finger under his nose she said, “Get over what’s bugging you and grab life with both hands. Whatever happened in the war is done. You can’t change it. You can only change the future.” She walked back to the brush. “Now get out of here. I’ve got work to do.”

• • •

Over the next two weeks Hunter spent most of his days on Sarah’s kitchen and his evenings working on the hallstand at Joe’s. His friend had promised him a new job — something more to his liking — in early April. Construction season was opening up and his “winter of discontent” was coming to an end.

He concentrated on the wood under his hands, going over the piece one last time to ensure there were no nicks or scratches. He’d found an old mirror at a garage sale that he’d dismantled and used in the back of the stand. With its tarnished elegance and the distressed stain techniques he used, the entryway piece was looking like the antique it was supposed to emulate.

As he worked, the conversations he’d had with Elizabeth and Gertrude played through his mind. One wanted him to stay away from Sarah, the other wanted him to go after what he wanted.

Gertrude was right, life was too short. He’d seen it firsthand. But Elizabeth had a point, too. Sarah needed to come to her own conclusion. If he destroyed her chances with Rick and then things didn’t work out with him and Sarah, he’d have a hard time forgiving himself.

He shook his head. Better let sleeping dogs lie. “Joe?” He stuck his head in his friend’s surfboard workshop.

“Yeah.” Joe’s smile was ready.

“Can you give me a hand? I want to load the piece in the back of the Jeep and take it over.”

“Who’s going to help you at that end?”

Hunter grinned. “You in the mood for a little drive?”

“That’s what I figured. Let me see the finished product.”

Joe walked over to the hallstand, stroked the sides, and inspected the detail of the curved supports. “Nice work. You got any pictures?”

Hunter shook his head. “Hadn’t thought about that.”

“That’s why you have me, bro. It’s all about pictures these days — pictures and videos. The written word is an endangered species. You’ll have to hire a professional someday, but my digital camera should do for now.”

Quickly, Joe snapped a few shots and then put his camera back in his studio. “Let’s get to work.”

It took about fifteen minutes to get the piece blanket wrapped and in the Jeep.

“So I finally get to meet the mystery woman,” Joe said. “Leave it to you to fall for a pregnant woman.”

“I haven’t fallen for her.”

“Right. Any day now you should take me up on that bridge I’ve been trying to sell you.”

“Not happening, Joe. Peddle that thing, and the load you’re selling, somewhere else.”

“Ooh, testy.” Joe laughed. “Okay. I’ll wait and see.”

“I’m not ready for anyone new. Losing Lauren was hard enough.” Hunter’s hands gripped the steering wheel, knowing Joe would easily see through the excuse.

“Hunter, I know it was tough to lose Lauren in the war, but have you asked yourself what it would have been like if you made it home? War intensifies things. People do things they didn’t intend to do. She told you she was separated from her husband, but then you found out she still had been living with him.”

Something in Joe’s voice alerted Hunter. “I thought she was planning on leaving when her tour was up. Is there something you’re not telling me?” Hunter’s grip tightened more.

Joe let out a breath. “I went to her funeral for you, remember?”

Hunter nodded his head.

“Her husband was there. I talked to him for a few minutes. He said he was counting the days ‘til she got home. She was going to resign her post and they were going to try for a family. Didn’t sound like they were planning on splitting up to me.”

Hunter sighed. “Nope.” Were any women faithful? Or men for that matter? He suddenly understood Sarah’s need to make sure she was done with Rick before she moved on. No matter how hard Hunter wanted to grasp his life with two hands, he was going to have to wait this one out.

“Sorry,” Joe said. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but there never seemed to be a good time to do it.”

“Never is a good time for bad news.”

They pulled up the driveway and Hunter parked as close to the front entrance as he could. He opened the inn door with his key and propped it ajar.

Daisy peered around the hallway corner and gave a soft bark. She emerged, tail wagging, and bumped his hand for a pat.

“Good girl,” he said.

“Nice dog. Sarah’s?” Joe came into the hallway.

“Who’s there?” Sarah called from the living room, a note of concern in her voice.

“Just me and my friend, Joe.” Hunter said.
Drat
. He’d hoped she’d be asleep so he could surprise her in the morning.

“Well, bring him in here so I can meet him.”

The men walked into the sitting room where Sarah was in her customary position on the chaise lounge. Daisy trotted over and sat next to Sarah’s right side.

“Sorry not to get up,” she said to Joe as they shook hands. “I’ve got ninety-seven days, twelve hours and forty-two minutes of bed rest left before the doctor will spring me.”

Joe grinned. “Not a problem.”

“Where’s Mandy?” Hunter asked.

“Work.” Sarah shivered. “What’s the chill? Did you leave the front door open?”

“Uh. Yeah. I have something for you. Well, for the inn, actually.” All of a sudden building a hallstand for Sarah seemed totally inappropriate.

Her eyes lit up. “Really? What is it?”

He smiled. “Wait ‘til we bring it in.”

A frown of disappointment didn’t quite erase the spark in her voice. “Okay.”

Joe and Hunter walked back to the Jeep, boots clunking on the hardwood floor. With minimum of grunting, they got the awkward piece into the front hall and set up.

It was exactly as Hunter had imagined it would be.

“Now do I get to see?” A whine came from the far room.

Hunter and Joe grinned at each other. “It would be fun to torture her a little longer,” Hunter said.

“Yeah, but she’s pregnant. Trust me, after going through two with Mary, that’s torture enough.”

“You got a point.”

Sarah was struggling to get up when they returned.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Hunter said and gave her his hand.

After she maneuvered herself from the chair, their eyes locked, and the room faded away for a brief moment. Unable to help himself, Hunter feathered a kiss on her soft lips.

“Ahem.” Joe mocked clearing his throat.

Shit.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to do that.”

“I know.” Sarah’s voice was soft. “Now can we see what you brought for the inn? The way you two were grunting and groaning, it sounded heavy.”

“I never grunt.” Joe grinned.”Do you?”

“No. Never. Don’t groan, either.”

“Must have been someone else I heard,” Sarah said.

“This way.” Hunter took her hand and led her into the entry way.

“Oh, my. It’s beautiful. It’s perfect. Where did you find it?”

“I made it.” Hunter’s chest burst with pride.

“Really?” Sarah touched the burnished wood reverently, her mouth framed in a small “O.” “This is amazing. But I can’t afford to pay you for this. It must be worth thousands.”

“I don’t expect you to. It’s on loan. All I ask is that you put my business cards on this shelf, right here.”

“You’re opening your own business! What a great idea!” She hugged him “I’ll do your website in return for the loan.” She laughed and smiled up at him.

The front door was pushed open. “I thought I’d come early and surprise you.” Rick stepped into the entryway. “What the hell!”

Silence fell over the small group.

“I thought you were serious about working on this with me,” Rick said. “I guess I was mistaken.”

“You’re taking this all wrong,” she protested.

“Yeah, right.” Rick thrust the flowers he had in his hand at Joe and walked back out of the inn.

Sarah burst into tears.

“I’ve made such a mess of things,” Sarah told Carol the following afternoon after sending her an emergency email. “I wanted to give Rick a chance and there I was hugging Hunter when Rick walked in the door. It was so innocent and Rick took it all wrong.”

“Is that true?”

“What do you mean?” Sarah’s tone was sharp.

“I mean are you dealing with the reality of your feelings, or are you trying to make things the way you think they should be?”

Sarah was taken aback. “Of course, I want to make things work with Rick. It would be best for the baby.”

“That’s your mother talking, not you.”

The problem with this coach was she was right too much of the time. “Good thing Mom’s in France pruning vines with Marcos. She’d have a fit.”

“When you think about being a single mother, where do you feel it in your body?” Carol asked. “Think about it right now and tell me where you feel it.”

Sarah thought about everything she’d heard about single mothers, how they were damaging their children, selfish, and living in poverty. In high school whispers followed pregnant teens like bad omens. “I feel sick to my stomach.”

“Could it be you feel ashamed?”

Sarah pondered the question. “Well, I certainly don’t feel like the smartest person, allowing this to happen to me. I mean, Rick and I had exciting plans. We were going to create a place worthy of being featured in the
New York Times, Travel and Leisure
, even on television. And I ruined it.”

“Ahh. Is that true?”

God, I wish I could pace.
Instead, Sarah drummed her fingers on her slightly enlarged stomach.”Technically, no. His sperm had to hit my egg. We were using protection, but I didn’t want to go on the pill. I don’t know why. Seems silly now. If I’d been using it, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Is
that
true?”

People did get pregnant even if they were using the pill. If they were careless, or forgot. “Even if I was using the pill, I could have gotten pregnant. But it still would have been my fault.”

“Is — ”

“I don’t know!” Sarah’s head was going to explode. “It feels like it would be my fault. I mean, isn’t the woman always responsible?”

Silence thrummed the line before Carol spoke. “Often women take responsibility in a relationship for things they shouldn’t. Yes, a woman is going to bear the burden of having a child, so it behooves her to pay attention to these things. But we’re passionate creatures, too. We’re human. We make mistakes. So do our partners. We get to own our mistakes, not theirs.”