THE NEXT EVENING, Isabel sat on the couch in her father’s living room. His chair sat empty, the ridiculous orange chair mocking her from across the room. None of it seemed to matter quite so much now, and she looked over at Britney, who sat across the couch from her.
“My parents want me to move back in with them,” Britney said. “But I said no.”
Isabel looked at the younger woman in surprise. “You don’t want the extra help?”
“Not really.” Britney smiled sadly. “I want to raise my daughter in her father’s house.”
Isabel nodded. “It’s a good place to grow up.”
“My family thought I was crazy to marry your dad, too,” she said. “They thought I was throwing my life away on an old man.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t more supportive,” Isabel said.
“It’s okay, I get it.” Britney rubbed her hand over her belly. “I’m scared, though. For all the flak I got for marrying George, I’m now on my own.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“How do you figure?” Britney cast her a bland look. “Should I move back into my parents’ house?”
“We Baxter women aren’t pushovers,” Isabel replied. “We might have acted the part at some time or other, but deep down we’re strong. We’re smart. We have what it takes to really make something.”
“We?” Britney asked.
“We’re both Baxters, Britney. And I meant it when I said that you could be a part of it.”
Britney shifted her position and smiled that gentle, secretive smile that mothers had. “Do you want to feel the baby kick? She’s pretty active in there.”
“Okay…” Isabel put a hand out tentatively, and Britney put it onto her stomach. At first she felt nothing, then there was a little tap, then another. She grinned. “I felt that!”
“Yeah…” Britney laughed softly. “I feel that all the time now.” She was quiet for a moment. “Isabel, I always wished I could be more like you.”
“No, you don’t…” Isabel shook her head.
“You were strong, beautiful, confident,” Britney countered.
“I wasn’t confident, I was mean,” Isabel replied quietly. “I used people. I thought I was better than others. You don’t want your daughter to be like I was. Raise her to be like you, and to be proud of who she is.”
Isabel looked around the room. This was no longer her childhood home—it would be another little girl’s childhood home. Her sister would grow up a new breed of Baxter—a kinder generation of women who were tough enough to succeed on their own, and confident enough to retract the claws.
She didn’t want to live her life on a pedestal anymore. She knew exactly what she needed to do. She pulled out her cell phone and typed in a text: James, would you meet me at the diner at 8? I have some business to discuss.
* * *
JAMES SAT IN a back booth of the diner, a ceramic mug of coffee in front of him, two empty creamer packets lying on the table. He glanced out the window into the twilit evening, his own haggard reflection clearer than the outdoors. He looked rough—he felt rougher. Somehow, this business arrangement had gotten very personal.
What was it with Isabel and her clandestine meetings? Not that he minded. He missed her. He’d felt a hollow ache inside ever since their talk last night, and while he knew that she couldn’t be the woman for him, he still longed for her. She’d inherited her father’s penchant for odd hours, and he’d shared his cousin’s ability to fall for the one woman capable of breaking his heart.
But he couldn’t blame Isabel for this—he’d done it to himself. She hadn’t lured him in, or manipulated anything—she’d just been a bare, honest version of herself, and that was all it had taken.
The door to the diner opened, and the bell overhead tinkled. He glanced over his shoulder to see Isabel coming in. She wore a pair of blue jeans and a billowy pink blouse that brought out the rosiness in her cheeks. She had a manila envelope under one arm, and when she spotted James, she moved in his direction.
“Hi.” James stood and kissed her cheek before they both sat down. He’d have to stop that—the physical contact—but he couldn’t help himself one last time.
“Thanks for meeting up,” she said, and a smile tickled the corner of her lips. “I was halfway here before I realized that ordinary people don’t do their business after hours…or have their lawyer’s personal phone number.”
He chuckled. “Baxter to the core. It’s okay. What can I do for you?”
She placed the envelope on the table and pushed it toward him. “This is the deed to the house your sister is living in.”
James raised an eyebrow. “Is there a problem? I checked for liens or anything like that. You should be in the clear.”
“I want to sign it over to Jenny.”
James stared at her. “You what?”
“I’m serious, James.” The smile dropped from her lips. “I want to sign this house over to Jenny.”
“That’s a very bad idea,” he countered. “I told your father—”
“My father is gone!” Her voice trembled. “I know what he was doing when he gave me that house, James. He was setting me up like a Baxter, giving me some clout, raising me just a little higher to give me that leg up—” her voice softened “—over you.”
“Isabel, you don’t need to sign away your property for me,” he said.
“Who said this is for you?” she demanded. “This is for me. My dad raised a shark, and I don’t want to be that woman anymore. I’ve chosen a different life, and I might not ever be ordinary—I’m okay with that. But I can’t be a shark.”
“Izzy…”
“No.” She pushed the envelope closer to him. “I want Jenny to have that stability. I know you think you’re the only one who cares about her future and her happiness, but you aren’t. I care, too. I’d love for her to keep working with me, but if she loses interest or decides she wants to do something else, I don’t want her to feel like she has to keep working at my shop in order to please me. I want that house in her name—no strings attached. The thing is, I’ve figured out why my dad took Jenny under his wing like that—it was in honor of my brother. My dad really cared about Jenny, and so do I.”
“But it’s all you got from your dad,” he said.
“No, it isn’t,” she countered. “I got the seed money for my business, a Yale education and the Baxter genes that thrive on that entrepreneurial challenge. I’m going to be just fine. I can build this business, and I can build others after it if I need to. I’ve got that tiny house of mine, and it suits me to a T. I’m not suffering in the least, James. Now, are you going to do the legal part of this, or do I have to go find that baby-faced lawyer?”
James shook his head. She wasn’t going to listen to him, and he suspected that if he turned her down, she’d do just what she threatened and find Eugene. “Why are you so stubborn?”
“I’m a Baxter.” She grinned. “And I’m tired of the pedestal. I’m going to earn what I get, and I’ll deserve it when I get there. But I’m starting out on a level playing field, and with a clear conscience.”
“You don’t owe us anything,” James reminded her.
“I owe myself,” she said, and he could hear the emotion in her voice. “Will you take care of this?”
“Yeah…” He reached out and put his hand over hers. She turned her palm over, intertwining her cool fingers with his. His heart pounded in his chest, and he swallowed hard. She was giving it up—the power, the house, any hold she might have over him and Jenny. She was giving it away. Shoulder to shoulder… wasn’t that what he wanted?
She pulled her hand out of his and wiped the tear away. “I’d better go.”
“Izzy, wait—” He couldn’t leave it like this, couldn’t let her walk away. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t fair to you. I was afraid that you’d be the kind of woman who would resent how much I have to do in order to take care of my sister. But I was wrong about you.”
“Very wrong.” A small smile came to her lips. “And I like to hear you say it.”
“That I’m wrong?” He laughed softly. “Well, there you have it.”
“Thank you.” Her gaze softened. “It means a lot to hear that from you.”
James scooped up her hand in his and tugged her closer. She didn’t resist, and she stood so close that he could rest his forehead against hers.
“I don’t come from money,” he said quietly. “I’m not a powerful man who can rescue you and give you everything your heart desires. I can’t promise you an easy life, but I’m asking—” He swallowed. “I’m asking you to stand by my side, to face the world with me. I’m asking you to be the woman who makes me stronger, the woman who keeps me honest with myself.”
“A life with you?” she asked softly.
“Yeah.” He moved a tendril of hair away from her face, and she looked up at him. “Would you take care of Jenny with me? Would you build a life with me? Maybe have a few kids with me, too?”
“I’d help take care of Jenny even if you didn’t want me,” she whispered.
“Want you?” he asked. “Isabel Baxter, I want to marry you.”
She nodded, and he felt a weight lift off his chest. Had she really agreed? He hadn’t been sure he’d ask until the words came out of his mouth, and once they did he knew he wanted this more than anything else in the world. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes, James,” she said, moving into his arms. “I’ll marry you.”
James pulled her against him, sliding his arms around her slender waist, and dipped his head down, catching her lips with his. She felt warm in his hands and tasted sweet on his lips. Her breath tickled his face, and when he finally pulled back, her eyes were glittering again.
Around them, three waitresses and a couple of truckers broke into a spattering of applause.
“The ring won’t be what you’re used to—” he began, and she put a finger on his lips, silencing him.
“The ring will be perfect,” she said. “And the wedding will be small, and the honeymoon—”
“Will be very sweet,” he said with a low laugh.
“Actually, I was going to say that it’ll have to be quite short, because with the store just opened, and—”
James laughed and smothered the last of her words with a kiss. She melted into his arms and sighed softly against his lips.
“Baxter to the core,” he murmured lovingly. “We’ll sort it out together.”
* * * * *