Haven Creek (18 page)

She also didn’t know why she hadn’t given him an answer about the fair. Maybe it was because going with him would mean that they were more than just two people hanging out. She’d been lying to Nate, Francine, and herself. She wanted to fall in love. She wanted marriage, and she definitely wanted her own family.

Spending time with Kara and watching her face when she talked about Jeff was mesmerizing. The joy in her eyes was almost palpable. Kara had come to Angels Landing to accept her birthright, unaware she would find the love of her life.

Rasputin crawled up on Morgan’s lap and settled down to sleep, forcing her to open her eyes. She had to get up and try to go back to sleep or she would be out of sorts for the rest of the day. It was Irene’s turn to host Sunday dinner, and Morgan had promised she would come to her house to help her make a few side dishes.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Ras, but I have to get up.” The cat jumped off her lap, heading for his own bed in the alcove off the pantry. Unlike a lot of cats, her pet preferred sleeping in his own bed to hers.

She got back into bed, fluffing up the pillow under her head. Morgan stared at the whirling blades of the ceiling fan until her eyes grew heavy. She slept fitfully, erotic dreams assaulting her like missiles, until she got out of bed and lay on the love seat on the screened-in back porch to wait for the sun to rise.

The warmth of the rising sun came through the screen, filtering over Morgan’s face. It was the heat that woke her. Smiling, she realized she had managed to grab snatches of much-needed sleep. The birds were singing, hopping from branch to branch, as Rasputin sat on a perch in the corner watching them.

Sitting up, she stretched her arms upward at the same time she rolled her head on her shoulders to relieve the tightness. Morgan knew a leisurely soak in the bathtub would help start her day off right, followed by a full breakfast that would tide her over until she ate later that afternoon. Walking on bare feet, she made a mental note to call the Beauty Box to schedule a full-body massage. The tension holding her in a punishing vise was what wasn’t on her wish list.

Morgan acknowledged the people she’d known all her life as she entered the Haven Creek Baptist Church. She walked to the pew where generations of Danes had sat since the small church had been erected. She stopped short when she spied Nate sitting between Irene and Rachel. She stared numbly at his strong jaw and chin when he lowered his head to hear what Rachel was saying. She’d remembered Nate attending services with his father, mother, and sister, but he’d stopped coming to church after his mother passed away.

Why, she mused, was he sitting in her family pew when the Shaws had one of their own? And had he come to church because she’d mentioned she was coming? Well, she thought, she would find out soon enough. Morgan entered the pew, sitting on Rachel’s right.

“Hey,” she whispered to her sister.

Rachel’s head came around at the same time Nate turned to smile at her. “Hey,” Rachel said. “I told Nate he could sit with us because his family usually attends the later service.”

Morgan stared at Nate, wondering why she hadn’t noticed the length of his lashes before now. “Good morning.” Her voice was shaded in neutral tones that belied the turmoil roiling inside her at that moment.

A crooked smile touched his strong mouth. “Good morning, Mo.”

Irene leaned forward. “I invited Nate to join to us for Sunday dinner.”

If she hadn’t been in the house of the Lord Morgan would’ve told her sisters what she thought of their very transparent scheme. Instead, she settled back and picked up a hymnal. The church was quickly filling up with worshippers.

Cavanaugh Island was eight square miles, with Sanctuary Cove claiming four of those miles, Angels Landing three, and Haven Creek a mere one. The Haven Creek Baptist Church had once been used as a one-room schoolhouse, and had a capacity of fifty. An addition expanded the church to include a Sunday school. It had become the norm for fathers to attend the later service while their children received Sunday school instruction. This ritual permitted their womenfolk to attend the early service, then return home to begin preparing the most important meal of the week.

The corpulent organist sat on the bench, his thick fingers poised on the keys. A melodious chord filled the church, soaring to the rafters as the voices of the choir joined in. Morgan cast a surreptitious glance at Nate, smiling when she saw his lips moving as he sang along. It was apparent he hadn’t forgotten his religious upbringing.

The one thing Morgan could count on during the summer months was that the service would begin and end on time. The lack of air-conditioning was definitely a factor. Ceiling and portable fans did little to dispel the humid air and the heat generated by the crush of human bodies.

Reverend Hightower’s sermon, about King Nebuchadnezzar and Daniel’s ability to interpret the king’s dreams, was particularly moving for Morgan when she recalled her conversation with Francine, who had said,
You dream and I can see the future
. She couldn’t tell anyone that her dreams about Nate were triple-X-rated.

The service ended with a recessional hymn, and Morgan walked to the lot set aside for parking. Nate followed, his arm around Rachel’s shoulders as she waddled slowly. She was a week past her due date.

Morgan turned to face her sister. “You look like you’re ready to pop.”

Rachel cradled her belly. “I know; I feel like it, too. I’m going home to lie down.”

“Are you in pain?” Morgan asked.

“No. I’m just uncomfortable.”

Morgan glanced around the lot, looking for Rachel’s minivan. “Where’s your car?”

“Irene picked me up.”

Morgan saw her oldest sister talking to the assistant pastor. “I’ll take you home.” Rachel lived with her daughter and Charleston PD husband in a newly constructed four-bedroom West Ashley duplex apartment.

“No,” Rachel said in protest. “You have to help Irene with dinner. Drop me off at Mama’s.”

“I’ll take you to your mother’s house,” Nate volunteered.

Rachel held her belly with both hands. “Have you ever delivered a baby, Nate?”

He smiled. “Not yet.” He led Rachel to his truck, physically picking her up and settling her on the seat.

“Where’s Rachel?”

Morgan turned. She hadn’t heard Irene come up behind her. “Nate’s taking her to Mama’s. She should know she’s too close to having that baby to go gallivanting.”

Irene sucked her teeth. “No one can tell Miss Know-It-All a thing. I told her to stay home, but she wouldn’t listen. Poor James threw his hands up. He told me on the down low that everyone at the Charleston PD has been alerted to expect a nine-one-one call from his wife.”

“There’s something I need to know from you.”

“What is it?” Irene asked as she took a pair of sunglasses from her handbag.

“Why did you invite Nate to dinner?”

“I saw him sitting alone, so I asked him to join us. Is that a problem?”

Morgan’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Not for me.”

Irene affected a smug smile as she settled her glasses on the bridge of her nose. “Good. It also isn’t a problem for Nate.”

“I know what you’re up to, Irene.”

The elegant medical examiner’s eyebrows shot up. “And that is?”

“You’re trying to set me up with Nate.”

Irene fingered her key fob. “No, I’m not. You did that already. You know Mama hates gossip, so I’m going to let you know what I’ve heard. There’s talk that you and Nate were seen together at Happy Hour. His truck was parked in your driveway, and someone claims they saw you walking together on Southern Pines Road. If you’re going with Nate, then you hit the jackpot. Every girl in high school had a crush on him, yours truly included.”

Morgan’s mouth dropped open. She couldn’t believe she wasn’t the only Dane girl to have a crush on Nate. “You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Why are you waiting until now to tell me this?”

“I just want you to know that Dane women have impeccable taste when it comes to men.”

The emotion eddying through Morgan was so strange and foreign that it took a full minute before she was able to identify it. The harder she’d tried to ignore the truth, the more it’d tormented her.

She was still in love with Nate.

M
organ watched Irene as she added two cups of water to a large pot containing smoked turkey necks and bay leaves before she covered it with a lid. “Lower the flame and let it simmer until the necks are tender,” Morgan said. Both women had covered their short hair with colorful bandanas. It was a habit they’d adopted from their mother, who wore one when cooking to keep her hair out of the food.

Irene gave Morgan a sidelong glance. “Maybe with you talking me through each step, I’ll be able to make a palatable gumbo.”

“It’s all prep work. Now we’ll slice the sausage and chop the bell pepper, celery, white and green onions, and okra while the smoked meat is simmering.”

“Are you going to chop the garlic clove?” Irene asked.

Morgan shook her head. “No. You’ll add it to the chopped ingredients that you’ll sauté in a cast iron skillet. Do you have a cast iron skillet?”

Irene glanced up at the pots and pans hanging from a rack suspended over the cooking island and stove top. “I was certain I had one.”

“That’s okay. I’ll go home and get mine,” Morgan volunteered.

Irene rested a hand on her sister’s arm, stopping her retreat. “Let me call Mama and ask her to bring hers.”

“Mommy, Daddy wants to know when we’re going to eat.” Irene’s youngest son had come into the kitchen, handing her an empty bowl.

Irene ruffled his coarse sandy-brown hair. “Tell him we’ll eat when the food is done.”

“Mommy says when the food is done!” Ethan Snell shouted loudly.

“Ethan! What were you told about yelling in the house?” Irene said.

“Sorry, Mommy,” he whispered.

Irene looked teasingly at Morgan. “See what you have to look forward to? I have two teenage sons who have bottomless pits for bellies and an eight-year-old who pretends he’s a secret agent when he spies on his older brothers. Let me call Mama before I forget.”

Even though her sister occasionally complained about her sons, Morgan knew she was very proud of them. The twins were honor students, and Ethan was a musical prodigy. Irene and her husband had sold their Charleston town house for a house in the Creek, which they renovated to accommodate their growing family. It wasn’t far from the house where the older Danes had raised their three daughters.

Irene finished her call. “Mama said she’s going to bring the skillet.”

“What’s up with Rachel?” Morgan asked.

“James came to Mama’s and took her home. When he tried to put Amanda in the car she threw a hissy fit, so Daddy told him to leave her.”

There came a roar of deep voices, and the sisters exchanged a knowing look. Nate and the Snell men had gathered in the family room to watch a baseball game. Morgan had made the introductions when Nate arrived with a decorative shopping bag filled with wine. He’d bought red, white, and rosé because he wasn’t certain what Irene was serving. Nate and Dr. Anthony Snell bonded quickly once they discovered they liked the same sports teams.

Morgan raised the lid on a Dutch oven, which held two cut-up stewing chickens. There still wasn’t enough liquid to add the dumplings. “Can you check to see if the greens are tender?” Irene asked her.

Mouthwatering aromas filled the kitchen when Morgan took the top off the pot of collard greens. Whenever it was Irene’s turn to host dinner, she prepared a variety of dishes because her sons and husband had prodigious appetites.

“Mom, are you making biscuits?” A mop of sun-streaked light brown hair fell over a gangly teenager’s forehead.

“Yes, Brandon. Now tell your father to stop sending you kids in here.”

Brandon blushed. “Yes, ma’am.”

Gussie walked into the kitchen, kissing Brandon’s cheek as he ducked his head. “You need a haircut, baby.” Irene took the shopping bag containing the skillet while Morgan hugged and kissed her mother. “What’s this I hear about Nate Shaw joining us?” she whispered.

“I invited him, Mama,” Irene said.

“That’s real nice of you.”

“I’m glad you approve,” Irene quipped.

“How’s Rachel?” Morgan asked her mother, hoping to defuse a potentially heated verbal exchange between her and Irene. Of the three Dane sisters, Irene had been the one who had most often challenged her mother, usually without much success.

“She was complaining of back pain.”

Irene laughed. “It won’t be long now. I can’t wait to hold my little niece or nephew.”

The three women launched into a debate about whether Rachel was going to have a girl or a boy, while Irene insisted she would have twins because of her dream.

Two hours later, Morgan sat between her identical twin nephews, Brian and Brandon, and across the table from Nate in the formal dining room. Everyone bowed their heads while Anthony blessed the table. Conversations started up again once the soup tureen filled with gumbo was passed around the table.

Gussie swallow a mouthful. “Who made this?”

“Irene.”

“Morgan.”

The sisters had spoken in unison.

Irene shook her head. “It’s Morgan’s recipe.”

Brian elbowed Morgan. “This is so good, Aunt Mo.”

Morgan patted his back. “Thank you, Brian.” The twins were seven when their uncle Anthony Snell married Irene Dane. Irene had sat them down, telling them they were going to be a family. Anthony would no longer be Uncle Tony but Dad, and Irene would be Mom.

“I believe your gumbo is better than Jack’s, baby girl,” Stephen Dane announced proudly. “It’s definitely a winner.”

“I agree,” Gussie said, confirming her husband’s assessment. “You should enter it in the one-pot category at the Island Fair.”

“Don’t forget her potato salad,” Irene added.

Gussie stared directly at Morgan. “Do you plan to go to the fair this year?”

Thank you for putting me on the spot, Mama, Morgan thought. “Yes. Nate and I are going together.” She felt the heat from countless pairs of eyes on her with the announcement.

Stephen cleared his throat. “Won’t this be your first fair since you’ve returned to the Creek?” he asked Nate.

Nate knew his smile spoke volumes. Unknowingly, Morgan’s mother and father had been instrumental in Morgan’s decision to go with him. “Yes it will, Dr. Dane.”

Stephen waved his hand. “There will be none of that Dr. Dane business. If you’re dating my daughter, then I’d like you to call me Stephen.”

Nate was gloating and he didn’t care who knew it. “Thank you, Stephen.”

When Morgan had asked to speak with him at Jeff’s wedding, he never anticipated the effect she would have on his life. She’d gotten him to come out of his shell since his very public marriage and divorce. When he thought about the other women he’d dated, Nate could honestly admit he’d never been friends with them.

Being in a relationship with Morgan would be deeper than any he’d had before, because he and Morgan could be friends as well as lovers.

He met Morgan’s eyes. “You definitely should enter the gumbo in the fair’s food-tasting contests.”

A secret smile trembled over her lips before they parted. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Anthony swallowed a spoonful of gumbo, chewing slowly on a tender shrimp. Brian and Brendan looked enough like him to have been his sons rather than his nephews. “What’s there to think about, Morgan? I went to med school in New Orleans and had my share of gumbo. But this is the best I’ve ever eaten.”

“I’ll act as your sous-chef,” Nate volunteered.

“What’s a soup chief, Grandpa?” Amanda asked.

Everyone at the table laughed. Stephen dropped a kiss on his granddaughter’s hair. “He or she is an assistant chef, Grandbaby girl.”

Amanda’s mouth formed a perfect O. “Wow. That’s cool.”

Stephen kissed Amanda again. “Morgan bringing home a ribbon would be cool. The last time we had a ribbon was when my mother won first place for her peach cobbler. And that was more than forty years ago.”

“Hear, hear,” everyone around the table chorused as they raised their glasses.

“Don’t forget I still have to help Mama roll out crusts for her pies,” Morgan reminded those sitting around the table.

Nate smiled at Morgan. “I told you I’ll act as your sous-chef when you make the gumbo, so that should give you time to make the crusts.”

Gussie pressed her palms together. “That settles it. This year the Dane women are going to enter several contests. Morgan will make her gumbo and I’ll make my sweet potato pies. Of course she’ll make the crusts because I can never roll them that thin.”

“That’s cool,” Amanda repeated.

Nate wanted to say it was more than cool. Eating dinner with the Danes had become a time for healing and reflection. Today was the twenty-second anniversary of his mother’s death, and he’d felt the need to connect with her spirit before visiting her grave. Manda had been very involved with Haven Creek Baptist Church, serving on several of the many committees dedicated to improving the spiritual and physical health of its members.

Sitting at the table with Morgan’s family made him feel as if he were truly a part of their family unit. That was something he was still working on with his own. His gaze had fused with Morgan’s, and he wondered if she was aware of how much he liked her, how often he wanted to see her.

Everyone took second helpings of gumbo before filling their plates with collard greens, stewed chicken and light, flavorful dumplings, and fluffy, buttery biscuits. A glass of ice-cold milk sat at Amanda’s place setting, while the other children drank freshly squeezed lemonade. The adults were given the option of choosing sweet tea or wine.

After a dessert of coconut lemon cake, the table was cleared, dishes were stacked in the dishwasher, and containers were filled with leftovers for those who wanted them. Brian and Brandon protested loudly when Irene gave their grandfather a container of gumbo. They managed to look embarrassed when their mother opened the refrigerator to show them several large containers filled with it.

Nate shook Anthony’s hand, and then hugged Irene. “Thank you again for inviting me.”

Leaning back, she stared up at him with eyes that reminded him of Morgan’s. “Now, don’t you be a stranger.”

“I promise I won’t.”

He exchanged handshakes and fist bumps with the twins. Nate stared at Amanda, who clung tightly to her grandfather’s leg. Holding out his hand, he smiled at her. “Good-bye, Amanda.”

The little girl stared at his hand for at least thirty seconds before she touched his fingers. “Good-bye.”

Walking into the kitchen, he found Morgan wiping down the cooking island. Smiling, she closed the distance between them. “You’re leaving?”

“Yes. Dinner was wonderful.”

“We enjoyed having you.”

Lowering his head, he kissed her cheek. “May I come by and see you later?” he whispered in her ear. He heard the hitch in her breathing with the query.

“Yes.”

He kissed her again. “Good night, Mo.”

Her eyes moved slowly over his face. “Good night, Nate.”

Morgan was sitting on the porch steps when Nate drove up. He stuck his head out the driver’s-side window. “Lock up the house and come get in.”

She rose to her feet. “Where are we going?”

He smiled at her. “It’s a surprise.”

“Do I have to change?” she asked Nate, holding out her arms at her sides.

“No. What you have on is perfect.”

Turning, Morgan climbed the steps and retrieved her house keys from the basket on the parlor table. Like so many island residents, she didn’t lock her doors unless she was out or it was time to go to bed. During daytime hours, even if the doors weren’t standing open, they were usually unlocked. It’d been a while since there had been a reported burglary or break-in. Maybe that was because everyone knew each other, or because all-seeing eyes were always on the alert for anything out of the ordinary—such as when Nate’s truck was parked in her driveway. It wasn’t as if it’d been there overnight. She wondered if there was a clandestine citizens watch group, in addition to the deputies who patrolled the towns around the clock, that went around peeking in windows or monitoring cars.

Nosy neighbors were definitely a downside of living in a small town. But that wasn’t enough for her to consider moving. Living in Haven Creek made Morgan feel connected and protected. And going out with Nate was a plus. She knew his family. He knew hers, and there wasn’t much he could attempt to conceal from her.

She locked the front door, pushing the keys into the pocket of her shorts. She’d come home, showered, shampooed her hair, and changed into a pair of shorts, an oversize T-shirt, and flip-flops. Rasputin had followed her around, making strange growling sounds until she picked him up. Her cat was an anomaly, because most cats were solitary and independent.

Nate was standing outside the vehicle watching her approach. She smiled. He was similarly dressed, in cutoffs, a white T-shirt, and sandals. Morgan enjoyed the feel of him when he held her close, kissing her mouth. This kiss was different from the others they’d shared. It was an intimate caress.

He ended the kiss, pressing his mouth to her eyelids. “You don’t know how much I wanted to kiss you today. I’m glad I was seated across from you instead of next to you, because I’m afraid my hands would’ve done things under the tablecloth that would’ve been unquestionably inappropriate while dining.”

Morgan was grateful they hadn’t been seated together. It would’ve proven much too tempting to inadvertently have their shoulders touch or for her to lean into him. She’d never been one for public displays of affection, especially in the presence of her family. When Nate held her hand at the wedding reception, she knew why the gesture had elicited talk among her relatives.

“Are you ready to tell me where we’re going?” she asked when he helped her up into the Sequoia.

“If I tell you, then I’ll ruin the surprise.”

Morgan didn’t have to wait long to discover what the surprise was. When Nate pulled into the area at the beach set aside for parking, it was obvious he wasn’t the only one who’d made the same plans. She counted eleven other vehicles.

Nate retrieved a wicker picnic basket, blanket, a boom box, and two solar-powered lanterns from the Sequoia’s cargo area. She picked up one of the lanterns and the blanket as they made their way down to the beach. This is what she’d wanted so many years ago. She’d fantasized about sitting on the beach with Nate while pouring out her heart and telling him of her love for him.