Falling for the Single Dad (8 page)

Her heart accelerated. “I won't,” she whispered.

“Good.” He tapped the doorframe before disappearing into the hallway. A valve squeaked, followed by the sound of running water.

She occupied herself with washing the dishes. She'd set the kitchen and dining area to rights when Weston reappeared. He'd taken time to comb his hair. The aroma of fresh soap with hints of Old Spice emanated from a man who already rocked her senses. The Old Spice reminded her of her father.

“I didn't mean for you to do the dishes.”

“My pleasure after the wonderful dinner you prepared.”

Weston stroked the beard shadow on his jawline. “According to Izzie, one of the two dishes in my entire culinary repertoire.”

“A great dad who's in no way defined by his cooking prowess.”

His mouth pulled downward. “As in lack thereof. And I wasn't always a great dad.” He frowned. “I was a terrible father, but I'm learning and trying to make up for what happened before.”

“You don't have to explain anything to me.”

“I want to.” He twined his hand through her fingers. “And no one is more surprised by that than me.”

She stared at their locked hands.

“Also, I want to show you the rest of the lighthouse. Including the gallery, where Izzie isn't allowed to go by herself. The view will take your breath.”

Looking into his eyes, Caroline decided the view wasn't so bad from where she stood. But she allowed him to lead her toward the lighthouse tower.

Past the cozy, future living room. Up the stairs. Past the landing where Izzie's room was located. Upward they climbed. Caroline paused to catch her breath on the top landing.

She peered over the banister. “Now I know how you keep in shape.” She could've bitten off her tongue. “I mean...”

He made a show of flexing his biceps. “Glad to see you noticed.”

She made a show of rolling her eyes and motioned toward the black-hinged door on the landing. “What's in there?” Her turn to change the subject.

He threw open the door. “The master bedroom.”

She stepped across the threshold as he fumbled for the light switch, revealing circular walls painted a
cielo
blue, and a mahogany floor minus furnishings.

“It takes minimalist to a whole new level.” She strolled over to one of the tall windows encircling the room and gazed below at the rhythmic pounding of the surf on the beach. “Literally.”

He shuffled his feet on the polished floor. “Honey put together Izzie's room. I haven't decided how I want my room decorated, so I've left it bare for now. More important projects to work on first. I'll throw in some furniture eventually and call it done.”

She did a slow three-sixty. “The sea views alone... Above everything with only the sound of the wind... In daylight with the sunshine pouring into these gorgeous windows—”

Weston propped against the wall with an interesting smile on his face. “My thoughts exactly. Sawyer and Honey think I'm crazy to roost here in this eagle's aerie of a room.”

He scratched his head and gave Caroline a slow, steady smile. “'Course most folks think I'm crazy in the first place for rehabbing a derelict lighthouse into a home.”

* * *

Weston waited for Caroline's reaction. And she didn't disappoint.

She lifted her chin. A gesture he was finding increasingly endearing. “I know a little something about crazy. Trust me, this isn't even close.”

“And then there's all those stairs...”

Her lips quirked. “Well, there is that. They may have a point.”

“Speaking of stairs, think you can handle one more flight to the lantern room?”

“Lead the way, Commander Clark.”

He found it increasingly impossible not to smile in this woman's presence. She'd have him grinning like a buffoon all the time if he didn't watch himself. “Ex-Commander.”

At the top of the stairs, he leveraged open one final door with his shoulder. He gave Caroline an apologetic look. “A work in progress, remember?”

She smiled. And he couldn't help himself. He smiled back. Caroline Duer—aka Turtle Lady—lightened his life in ways he hadn't experienced since...

He stepped out of the doorway to allow Caroline through. Since never.

“The light...” Like steel to magnet, she headed toward the enormous light in the center of the glass-studded room. “I didn't think the Coast Guard used these anymore.”

She ran her fingertip over one of the multifaceted prisms.

“The Coast Guard doesn't. When they automated most lighthouses in the 1950s, this one was decommissioned. Now with cheaper light stations anchored and floating in troublesome channels, the new systems don't require the manpower this type of lens demanded.”

“Does the lens still work?” The awed hush to her voice filled something empty in his soul. Her delight pleased him in a way he hadn't expected.

“Not yet. But I'm working on it with Coast Guard officials. For rare, ceremonial occasions.”

“Your most amazing project ever.”

He shook his head. “Izzie is my most important project. The lighthouse is merely a boyhood dream come true. Icing on the cake.” He pulled her toward a glass door in the wall of glass. “There's more I want to show you.”

She favored him with a sweet smile. And his heart sped up. He drew her out onto the gallery.

The wind buffeted them. She wrapped her cardigan around her body. He stepped closer to block the wind. “I should've brought my jacket.”

“It's fine. You were right. This is glorious.”

He gestured toward the string of lights to the south. “Kiptohanock.” And to the north, “Maryland.”

With one arm keeping her sweater in place, with her other hand she tucked a strand of hair the wind had unloosed from the bun at the nape of her neck.

He gave in to the urge to touch the mahogany tendril blowing across his cheek. “Not much for hairdos, I'm afraid.”

She stilled at his touch, but she didn't step away. He feathered her hair behind her ear. The vein in the hollow of her throat thrummed with a beat as steady as the pull of the tide.

Weston felt himself drawn by the tug on his heartstrings. But beyond the attraction, he sensed dark, turbulent waters inside this woman. A riptide that could possibly leave him far out to sea.

He refused to ask her why she'd left her home and family. He wanted her to trust him enough to share the details of her past with him. Despite the danger shouting in his head, he wanted to share the deep places in his own life with her.

Weston took her in his arms. She didn't resist. He lifted her chin with the tips of his forefinger and thumb. A look of fear, disbelief and hope shone in her eyes. The pulse at the base of her throat beat furiously now, matching the drumming of his heart.

She leaned closer. He tilted his head. Her lips parted and he felt her breath on his cheek. He held his breath.

Then she pulled back. “I can't,” she whispered. “I'm too much of a mess. My family...” Her eyes darted to the sky studded with stars like diamonds on blue velvet.

He let go of her. “I'm scared, too. I'm a mess, too.” Weston wanted to kick himself. Too fast, too soon for whatever secrets Caroline battled.

She backed as far as the railing allowed. “You don't know what I did.”

“Nor what I did, either.”

Her brown eyes flicked to his with uncertainty.

Exposed to the elements, he wondered if he dared to come clean—if he cared enough to try and bridge the gulf between them. Would his willingness to share his dark places help her overcome her own? Or would Caroline lose all respect for him?

Chapter Eight

“I
met Izzie's mother after I graduated from the academy.”

Out on the gallery, Caroline glanced over a few feet to where Weston gripped the railing.

“Looking back, I see now how young and unsure of myself I was on my first duty assignment. She needed me so much. It bolstered my flagging confidence.”

He faced Caroline. “But no excuses. I was raised to know better. Jessica got pregnant, and we got married.” His gaze rested on Caroline as he waited for her reaction.

“You're not the only young person to make poor choices. But you tried to make things right as best you could.” She touched his hand, cold on the iron railing. “As any honorable man would.”

“Not so honorable. Marriage was the only way I could convince Jessica to keep the baby. She wanted to—” He took a ragged breath. “But as the pregnancy progressed, Jessica came more and more unglued. Hormones, I rationalized. Uncontrollable bouts of crying bordering on hysteria. The clinginess and dependency mushroomed.”

A sinking dread formed a knot in the pit of Caroline's stomach.

Weston raked a hand over his head. “Her all-consuming need scared me. And then there were the unpredictable fits of rage.”

He stared far out over the ocean waves. “When I got the chance to go to sea, I'm ashamed to say, I jumped at the opportunity to get away from her for a few weeks. She went into early labor.” He closed his eyes. “I left her to have Izzie alone.”

Caroline pressed her shoulder into his. “Early labor, you said. Doesn't sound like you intentionally abandoned her to go through that by herself.”

“I've always wondered if while I was gone, Jessica did something to make herself...” He swallowed. “To get me back in port.”

“And after Izzie was born, did things get better?”

“Worse.” He clenched his jaw. “Postpartum depression, the doc said. I didn't know how to help Jessica. She wouldn't get out of bed for days on end. She begged me to leave the Coast Guard. To stay home with her. To make a home for her.”

His mouth tightened. “Instead I poured myself into my career.”

“Your safe place.”

He frowned. “How did you know?”

Clutching the railing, she turned away toward the choppy sea.

He sighed. “I forced Jessica to see a doctor. The pills helped.” He grimaced. “For a while, at least.”

“They always do.” Caroline's lips twisted. “For a while.”

“I rose quickly through the ranks. Cutter duty became my respite from real life. I was ashamed of how I'd failed Jessica and the baby. I hid the truth from my crew and commanding officer.”

Caroline threaded her arm through his. “You can't blame yourself for everything.”

He shook his head. “I realize now, every time I left port Jessica found other options to satisfy her emptiness.”

Caroline squeezed her eyes shut
.

“Only Jessica's out-of-control behavior wasn't the big secret I believed.” He pounded the railing with his fist. “While I was away, she spent her evenings clubbing and her days sleeping it off. I didn't know any of this until one of the other officers' wives stopped by the house one day and found Izzie alone and crying in her crib.”

His voice broke. “She hadn't been fed or changed in who knows how long. Jessica was gone.”

Caroline leaned her forehead against the solid bulk of his arm. “Wes...”

“The other wives rallied, God bless them. The station chaplain and his wife, too. I was helped off the cutter. Those first few weeks...” He exhaled. “My mom and sister flew in from Richmond, or I'm not sure how Izzie and I would've survived.”

“And Jessica?”

“She'd met a rich executive. He promised to fulfill her biggest dreams. So she ditched us.” He laughed, the sound without mirth. “Truth be told, I deserved to be ditched. But Izzie? That's something I've never understood.”

Caroline sighed. “She wasn't in her right mind, Wes. She wasn't thinking.”

“Oh, she was thinking, all right. About herself. She didn't have to leave Izzie alone. She could've called my mom or Social Services. That's what I've struggled with the most—forgiving Jessica for that.”

His voice quivered. “And forgiving myself for ever putting Izzie in that dangerous position because of my pride. Anything could've happened to her, Caroline. Anything.”

“Izzie doesn't know about her mother, does she?”

His chest heaved. “Would you tell a child something like that? About the person who's supposed to love you the most?”

She hugged him.

“Those days were the darkest of my life. Jessica cited me in the divorce papers for abandonment.” His face shadowed. “And she was right. I'd abandoned her emotionally long before she left us.”

“I know about dark days, Weston.”

He pulled her closer. “I somehow thought you might. But despite everything—no,
because
of that—that's when I came back to the God of my childhood.”

Weston rested his chin on the top of her head. “If perhaps I'd come to Him earlier... If I'd been the man, husband and father I should've been, then Jessica might have found in Him what she so desperately craved in me.”

Caroline pulled back far enough to catch his gaze. “None of us can be that kind of enough for somebody else, Wes. I, too, learned that the hard way. The would-haves, could-haves, should-haves will kill you, trust me.”

“The never-dids killed Jessica. Despite her new life with the big house and new husband, only the booze and narcotics helped her feel better, albeit temporarily. Intoxicated, she plowed her Corvette into a tree five months after the divorce.”

“Only a strong man could've managed to survive everything you've been through and become the wonderful father you are to Izzie.”

He favored her with a small smile. “Only a man with a strong faith in God.”

“Thank you for trusting me with what happened, Wes.”

“Maybe when Izzie's older, I'll tell her the truth. After the both of us have had years of living the life God meant for us.”

“And God led you here.”

He blew out a breath, releasing, Caroline prayed, more pieces of the pain. “Full circle to my family's lightkeeper legacy.”

“Pretty cool.”

Weston touched her nose with the tip of his finger. “You're pretty cool for understanding the heavy stuff I just laid on you and still wanting to be my friend.” He cocked his head. “You still do want to be my friend, don't you?” His eyes searched her features. “Or perhaps more?”

Caroline's heart raced. Hope surged. But fear rose in her gut, clenching her insides. Quenching the light.

She tore her gaze away. “I'm only here for a few months.” She was surprised at how steady her voice sounded. “Best not to complicate either of our already complicated lives. Friends would be good, though.”

“Friends.” He didn't sound pleased. “If that's what you want.”

She stepped away. “That's what I need.”

“For now.”

Weston Clark wasn't a man used to failing to find a solution to every problem. Jessica had been his most spectacular failure. A failure he didn't intend to repeat. Wes was lonely. Caroline was lonely, too.

But he'd only find in her an equally frustrating, unsolvable dilemma. Perhaps her real purpose in returning to the Shore this summer might not just be reconciliation or building a marine rescue center.

Perhaps she might offer a transition, a bridge to healing for Weston and Izzie. From the pain of the past to the bright hope of tomorrow. Discovering a future with a woman who could be the wife and mother they both needed.

Sadness engulfed Caroline. Not her, but the sort of good woman a man like Weston deserved.

“Want to know what I've learned from rehabbing this old lighthouse?” His voice broke through her bleak reverie. “One of many lessons, but maybe the best lesson of all.”

She raised her chin. “What would that be?”

“This place proves none of us need to be defined by our past forever.”

He gazed over the railing. “From here, the past and all those problems recede to their rightful perspective. 'Cause up here we can see the problems the way God sees them. From His all-encompassing view.”

She peered at her RAV4 and Weston's Chevy parked below the tower. At the base of the dunes, neon tape fluttered in the ocean breeze and cordoned off the precious nest of turtle eggs.

“This place reminds me that with God's help I can redefine myself and forge a new future if I've the courage to try.”

Exactly why Caroline had returned home in the first place. She pressed the bracelets against her flesh.

His eyes pinned her. “Do you have the courage to try, Caroline? To see what the summer holds?”

Oh, how she liked the way he looked at her. She gulped. “I'm leaving as soon as those eggs hatch.”

Weston pursed his lips. “Consider me warned. Dinner tomorrow night? You can try out my other culinary achievement.”

“Hot dogs?” She laughed. “With an enticing offer like that, how could I refuse?”

Weston's eyebrow arched. “How indeed?”

She poked him in the chest. “Persistent, aren't you?”

“One part persistence plus one part perseverance has gotten me this far, haven't they?”

The same could be said of her, as well. She and Weston had more in common than he knew. More than what a good man like Weston ought to have to endure twice in one lifetime.

* * *

To Weston's chagrin, Caroline canceled on him for dinner. In her defense, Braeden recruited her for a rescue mission involving an injured dolphin, hit by a recreational boat operator near one of the barrier islands.

Another week flew by with the last week of school activities, which he diligently attended as a classroom dad. The only classroom dad in a sea of moms whose unabashed friendliness made him feel like a rooster at a hen party.

He and Sawyer labored long into each night on the lighthouse. Trying to get as much done before school let out for summer and Izzie roamed underfoot. The first round of foster siblings for Keller's Kids Camp were also inbound on Monday.

From brief texts and snatches of phone calls, a hectic week for the fund-raising turtle lady, too. Thanks, in part, to him. He used his Coast Guard Auxiliary contacts to put Caroline on the docket as keynote speaker to plead her case for the rescue center at the group's monthly breakfast meeting.

Because he believed in the worthiness of her cause? Of course. But it also gave him an excuse to see her. When he showed up to the church fellowship hall to offer his support, a smile tugged the corners of her mouth as they shared a long look across the crowded room.

“You did good.” He grinned at her later across the toy display at a nearby baby store. “We make a convincing team. I think their support will clinch the funding you need.”

“Is that why I let you convince me to drive to Onley to shop for a baby shower gift?” In a classy violet blouse and pleated linen skirt, she cocked her head. “Remind me why I'm doing this? I hate shopping.”

He sorted through the stand of baby bibs, rompers and blankets. “'Cause you missed me?”

She smirked. “Try again.”

He threw a stuffed gray elephant at her. “Hey.”

She caught it in a one-handed swipe. She cut her eyes around the boutique. “You're going to get us kicked out of the only baby store this side of Salisbury.” She returned the elephant to the shelf.

“Good reflexes for a turtle lady.” He held up a crocheted pair of pink baby booties and inspected the price tag. “Seriously?” He placed the booties back on the shelf. “How about 'cause friends don't let friends shop alone?”

She seized hold of the booties. “They're precious, Wes. So cute...”

“I think you're cute.”

She gave him a sidelong look and put the booties down again.

“Actually, that's wrong. I don't think you're cute.”

She gave him her full attention then.

He smiled. “I think you're beautiful.”

Two spots of color reddened her cheeks. She folded and refolded a fuzzy pink chenille blanket. But a smile softened the corners of her mouth.

“Besides, neither you nor Izzie has purchased a gift for this all-important social event of the Kiptohanock season.”

She rolled her eyes. “You mean, the otherwise nonexistent Kiptohanock social season.”

“Do you hate it here so much?”

“Surprisingly, no. I love getting to know my nephews and spending time with my sisters. I'm always happy if I can be close to the sea, too.”

“And your father? Is it still awkward?”

Her eyes dropped. She flipped through the book
Goodnight Moon
. To stall or to compose herself, he guessed.

“Awkward would be an understatement. We stay out of each other's way for the most part, which is the only reason I've remained at the cabin. He's busy with fishing charters, and I'm spending most of my time at the rescue center.”

“But that isn't close to the reconciliation you'd hoped for.”

She shrugged. “Hope is a commodity I've learned not to indulge in. Too costly in the long run.”

It gutted him to realize how something—or someone—had wounded Caroline so deeply. In some ways, she was still as entangled in the snares of her past as the marine life she rescued.

Weston longed to cradle her in the circle of his arms. But he dared not. “I don't know how you—how anyone—survives without hope, Caroline.”

Her lips trembled before she regained control. “Listen to you, getting all serious on a shopping expedition.” She threw a fluffy sea horse at him.

It bounced off his chest and fell to the carpet. He feigned a look of mock outrage. “Are you trying to get us kicked out of the only baby store between here and Salisbury, Turtle Lady?”