Cam and Tawny settled into a routine, which, after a few days, they had down pat. By five a.m., Cam was working out in the basement, and by six o’clock, he was making breakfast for two. He’d learned almost immediately that Tawny needed time in the morning. There was no rise and shine and up and at ’em with this girl. Hell, no. The kid needed time to wake up, and that usually included at least an hour of TV, along with a bowl of dried Cheerios and orange juice. Only then would she allow him to brush out her hair, a task he approached with the kind of ferocious tenacity he was known for. He’d spent his entire Wednesday evening googling different ways to brush out kinky curls and how to control them.
By Friday, he was a pro, and though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, when Tawny clapped her hands and hugged him because she loved her French braids--French freaking braids--his chest tightened and he had to clear his throat in order to speak. The kid looked damn cute, though she could use some help in the wardrobe department. He perused her clothes with a frown. Today, she’d picked out a pair of denim shorts that once again were too big, paired them with a purple T-shirt that had seen better days, and the same pair of sandals she’d worn every day since she’d arrived.
She was sitting on top of the island, his preferred spot for the daily hair ordeal, and he helped do up the buckles. “These the only shoes you got?” he asked, helping her down and reaching for her backpack.
“My running shoes have holes in them,” she answered with a shrug. Then scrunched her nose. “And they stink.”
“Well, that’s no good.” He thought ahead to his weekend. He was working Saturday, but Sunday was open. “How about we go shopping for some new clothes?”
She clutched at his hand, those big eyes of hers shining. “Can I have a pretty purple dress?”
“Whatever you want.”
“With a princess on it?”
He nodded, though he had no idea where to get the damn thing. Cam decided he’d ask Honey when he dropped off Tawny. His brother’s wife had stepped up in a big way, and Tawny had spent the week at the lake with her. Of course, as of Monday, he had to make new arrangements because Honey and Nash and their young son were headed to Florida to visit friends. Cam wasn’t one to dwell on stuff he couldn’t figure out, because he would figure it out. He had no choice. Eventually.
He whistled to Rufus, and the dog followed them outside. The grass was wet, heavy with dew, and the air fresh. Birds sang from the trees, and Rufus ran after a squirrel, spoiling the small animal’s quest to find food for the coming winter. It was already muggy, and he knew the weekend was going to be a hot one, but he wasn’t complaining. Already the dog days of summer were coming to an end. With only a few weeks of August left and kids getting ready to go back to school, the landscape had changed.
Mrs. Eddy was on her porch, watering hanging baskets filled with deep pink petunias. He waved, got Tawny settled in her car seat, and then they were off. It was almost eight o’clock, and he needed to be out at the jobsite by nine.
His brother’s place was on the lake, though it was nowhere near the vicinity of the larger estates. Nestled among trees with enough waterfront for a beach, the Booker family cottage had been passed to Nash by their grandparents, and he’d done a considerable amount of upgrading—especially once he got himself hitched. Cam had helped him out, and as he pulled up alongside his brother’s truck, he took an appreciative look around. The area was filled with older cottages, and though they couldn’t compare to, say, the widow Barnes’s place, there was a certain kind of charm to these homes that couldn’t be replicated.
One day, he planned on having his own place among the trees about fifty feet from shore.
He grabbed Tawny’s backpack and followed her and Rufus inside. Honey was in the kitchen, her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, a loose summer dress swishing around her hips as she stirred something in a big pot. It was something that smelled good, and he sniffed the air, though what it was escaped him.
Tawny made a beeline for the baby, who was sitting in his playpen gnawing on a large blue teething ring, and the dog plopped down beside them. Cam set down the backpack and headed for the kitchen, grabbing himself another coffee and dropping a kiss to his sister-in-law’s cheek.
“Where’s Nash?”
“He’s in the boathouse. We’re taking the kids out to the island this afternoon.”
“Yeah?” Cam sipped his coffee. “The Coach House running itself these days?”
Honey laughed. “Tiny’s got it under control.”
The Coach House was a local bar in town that had been around forever. It was practically an institution and the place to go for cold beer and the best chicken wings in town. Nash had bought it a few years back, and then Honey had shown up and been hired as a bartender. Took the woman less than a year to blow his brother’s plans right out the window. Since the baby had come, he’d cut his hours and she’d never gone back. Seemed to work for them. Truthfully, Cam had never seen Nash this happy before. But a settled life with a wife and child wasn’t something Cam was after, and he was more than happy to leave his brother to it. At least he had been.
His gaze fell to Tawny. The little girl had her face pressed to the side of the playpen, and her giggles were rewarded with a toothy grin from his nephew. Gabriel tried to pull himself up and only managed to make Tawny giggle harder. Honey came up alongside him.
“She really is adorable,” his sister-in-law murmured. There was a pause. “Do you know what you’re doing yet?”
He glanced at Honey and shook his head. “I know she can’t go back to Iris’s grandmother. I know she can’t go in the system, so right now, she’s with me.”
“Oh. I meant for next week.”
Right. Cam sighed and ran his hands across the stubble on his cheek. “I might have to take her with me to the job.”
“How’s that going, by the way? Nash said it was a big project.”
“It’s going well.” Thankfully, Bluebell Barnes hadn’t surfaced since day one, and he’d been fine with that. Something about the woman threw him off his game, and right now, he needed his game more than ever.
“What’s she like?” Honey’s eyebrows rose dramatically. “The infamous widow Barnes.”
He made a face. “Since when do you care about Bluebell Barnes?”
“I don’t really. I mean, I don’t know her. I just think there has to be more to this woman than what the local gossip mill churns out. I heard she’s working at Poppy’s place down by the boardwalk.”
That yanked his head around. “I doubt that.” The woman had more money than most anyone in Crystal Lake, including the Blackwells. Why in hell would she be putting in time at some boutique?
“It’s what I heard.”
Cam finished his coffee and handed the empty cup to Honey. He didn’t have time to sit around and worry about where the widow Barnes was spending her time. The fact that she hadn’t been home all week (as far as he knew) was all that mattered. “I gotta run. I’ll be by later to get Tawny.”
“Stay for supper?” Honey nodded toward the kitchen. “I’m making homemade goulash.”
“I knew you had something good in there.” He flashed a smile. “Goulash is a hell of a long way from burnt Kraft dinner.”
Honey made a face. “Can’t believe Nash told you that.” She gave him a hug, and he tousled the top of Tawny’s hair on his way out. The kid didn’t bother to look up, and he supposed that was a good thing.
Twenty minutes later, he pulled into the driveway of the Barnes residence. Rufus ran ahead, and Cam followed the dog around back. His guys were there, and the materials he’d ordered for the new deck had been delivered.
“Okay, boys,” he said, grabbing his tool belt. “Let’s get to work.”
By noon, the landscape crew was half done with all the planting, while he and the construction crew managed to get a good chunk of framing done for the deck. He’d just called quits for lunch when Dave walked by and nodded toward the side of the house.
“You got company.”
Cam wiped sweat from his brow, pulled his cap back low, and turned as Edward Barnes made his way carefully through the construction zone and headed toward him. Rufus was nearby and ran a few feet, a low growl rumbling from his chest and a warning bark following.
“Easy, boy.” Cam put his hand on the dog’s head.
Edward Barnes was tall and well built, no doubt from hours in a gym, because as far as Cam knew, the man wasn’t the type for physical labor. His brown hair was thinning, his features sharp, and his expression was all business. He was dressed for golf, sporting an emerald-green collared shirt, gray-and-white-plaid shorts, and sandals that weren’t exactly appropriate footwear for a yard under construction.
“Booker,” Edward said conversationally as he approached.
Cam knew the man casually—they didn’t exactly rub elbows and run with the same crowd. He offered his hand. “It will be a hot one on the links.”
Edward smiled and nodded, though it did nothing to thaw the frost in his eyes. He glanced at Rufus. “Dog doesn’t seem too friendly.”
“He’s friendly enough.”
“He bite?”
“He’s been good today.” Cam kept his voice light. He didn’t like the man, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to play games with him. “What can I do for you?”
Edward shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts and turned in a full circle, his forehead marred by a frown and all pretense of politeness gone as his gaze settled on the house.
“She home?” Contempt dripped from each word, and the man’s eyes hardened. “I rang the doorbell and knocked, but there’s no answer.”
“If you mean Blue, I haven’t seen her.” Cam took a step back, unwilling to be pulled into family stuff that didn’t concern him. Everyone in town knew there was no love lost between Edward Barnes and his father’s widow.
Edward swore under his breath. “Bitch changed the code, and I can’t get in.”
Cam had to work to keep his cool. “Last I heard, you don’t live here.” He wasn’t exactly a fan of Bluebell Barnes, but at the moment, she was his employer, and he wasn’t going to let someone like this douchebag talk shit about her.
Edward made a face and glared at him with a sneer. “She’s spreading her legs for you now, I guess.”
Cam clenched his hands together. The guy had just crossed a line. “You need to leave.”
“She’s nothing but a whore. Trapped my father and took all this from me.”
“I’m not going to say it again, Barnes. You should leave.”
But the man was on a roll, and spittle formed at the corners of his mouth as he rattled on, his words carried by anger and something else. Something darker. “She’s easy on the eyes. No denying that. But she ruins everything she touches, and if I have my way, she’ll—”
Cam had had enough. He took a step forward, and instantly, Rufus growled, the hair along his back standing on end.
Dave appeared from nowhere, his tone even, but he was swinging a hammer and his smile was steely. “You got a problem, boss?” he asked, not taking his eyes off Edward.
“Nope.” Cam stood back, his chest flush with an anger that made it hard to talk. “Barnes was just leaving.”
Edward glared at both of them for several long moments. With one last look of disgust, he spit into the ground. “You see her, tell her she needs to return my phone calls or there’ll be trouble.”
“What the hell was that about?” Dave tossed the hammer onto one of the work benches as Edward disappeared around the house.
“Nothing I want any part of,” Cam replied.
“You good?” Dave asked.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m good.” He let his anger subside and decided to put Edward Barnes along with his “stepmother” out of his mind. The sooner he got this job done, the better, because he had a feeling things were about to go south where those two were concerned. No way was he getting caught in the middle of whatever the hell they had going on.
He had enough on his plate. Cam scooped up his lunch bag and joined his crew, but as he bit into his ham and cheese sandwich, he glanced at the house, and even though he’d just told himself to forget all about her, he wondered…
Where in hell had the widow Barnes been all week?