“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Frances asked, putting on her sweater.
Outside, the streetlamps were just coming on, illuminating the wet sidewalk in silver. The rain had stopped, and the clouds had cleared in the night sky overhead. Stars twinkled there like fireflies.
Frances was already late. Bingo at the community center started at eight sharp. But they’d had inventory that day, and she was a stickler when it came to inventory. Now that they were finished, though, it looked like she’d have time for a few games. And maybe even some leftover popcorn if she hurried.
“I don’t think so,” Kyla said. “I’m beat. But I’d love to drive you...”
Frances shot her a look. “I promised to let you girls start helping me more. But I can get to bingo just fine. It’s only a block away, straight as an arrow. And Donna is going to meet me at the door, so you don’t have to worry.”
Kyla smiled. She was trying not to; she really was. “Okay. But you’ve got your phone in case you need me?”
“I’ve got my phone, but I won’t need you. Donna is giving me a ride home and I’ll be fine.” Frances gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “I promise, honey. And don’t forget Jacques.”
“I won’t.” Actually, she might’ve if Frances hadn’t said anything. The cat had taken to sleeping in the storage room lately, his princess bed abandoned on the counter. He’d found some leftover Bubble Wrap that made for a cushier experience apparently, and Jacques and cushy went hand in paw.
“Don’t wait up!” Frances waved and was out the door before Kyla could tell her to be careful.
She watched out the window as her foster mother headed down the sidewalk and toward the community center in the distance. Only a block. She’d be fine.
Still, Kyla had a funny feeling that she couldn’t seem to shake. She’d had it all day. At first, she thought it was because she hadn’t heard from Ben. He’d taken Gracie deep sea fishing on his friend’s boat earlier, but he’d texted a few hours ago. They were home safely, and he was getting ready to work the graveyard shift because one of his officers had called in sick.
So, that wasn’t it. Kyla had never believed in premonitions, but as she stood there with her stomach in a strange knot, she told herself she might have to drive by the community center on her way home. Just in case.
She stretched her arms over her head and yawned. She hadn’t been lying when she said she was beat. Her back ached from bending over their inventory all afternoon, and suddenly all she wanted was to get home and run a hot bath. Maybe she’d make some tea afterward, and see if that position at the middle school was still open. She hoped with a sudden pang that it still was.
Smiling to herself, she turned toward the darkened storeroom. “Jacques, here, kitty kitty! Let’s go home.”
She waited, looking at the spot underneath the lowest shelf where he liked to stuff himself, but he didn’t appear.
“Jacques. Come on—let’s go.”
She really didn’t want to have to bend down and pull him out. Her muscles were screaming.
“Jacques—”
He meowed behind her. She turned to see him sitting near the front window, his tail twitching back and forth. He was staring out into the darkness, ignoring her completely.
“What are you doing, you crazy cat?” She could hear the slight edge to her voice. Ever since the incident with the guy in black a few weeks ago, she’d made sure not to linger too long after closing. It had unsettled her enough that it was the first thing that popped into her head now. Especially since she’d forgotten to lock the door behind Frances when she’d left.
She reached for her purse and dug around for the keys. Stupid. She needed to be more careful.
Jacques meowed again, and she twisted around to look. She couldn’t see anything through the darkened window, but this was so unlike him that chills marched up the back of her neck. She had to remind herself that she didn’t believe in premonitions. Or overweight cats suddenly warning of impending danger. It was probably just a squirrel or something. At night. In the middle of town...
She turned her attention back to her purse and dug around some more. Where the hell were they? This was ridiculous.
With trembling hands, she plopped it down on the counter. She pulled her cell phone out. Her wallet, her makeup bag, her sunglasses. And there, in the very corner, were the keys.
She sighed. Good Lord. At this rate, she was going to have to start wearing them around her neck.
She plucked them out and turned toward the front door again, but jumped when she saw a man standing on the other side of the glass.
“What the hell?”
He stood in a shadow underneath the awning, looking unsettlingly familiar in his dark clothes.
Her thoughts bounced around chaotically, trying to find purchase. It was probably the same guy from a few weeks ago. It’d be too much of a coincidence otherwise. Which meant he wanted something, or was trying to scare her. And since he’d decided to show up after closing both times, the second scenario seemed most likely.
“What do you want?” she asked, loud enough that he’d be able to hear through the glass. She really needed to go lock the door in his face, but was having trouble taking the first step toward him. All her instincts screamed to stay as far away as possible.
Swaying a little, he reached for the door handle.
Jacques hissed and pinned his ears back. Then darted into the storage room, knocking the broom over as he skittered past. Kyla gaped after him, unable to believe what she’d just seen.
The door opened with a soft swoosh, and she looked quickly back at it, the cat forgotten. The man stepped inside, and she took a step backward toward her phone.
“We’re closed,” she managed.
It was an absurd thing to say; of course they were closed. And it was obvious this guy wasn’t here for candy. But her brain didn’t seem to want to come to the conclusion that he might be here for something else.
She watched him, knowing he was drunk. She could smell his sour breath from where she stood. His eyes were maybe the palest shade of blue she’d ever seen. Something about him looked familiar, but again, her brain wasn’t connecting the dots. It was like she was moving underwater. This was something that happened in the movies, not in a candy shop in Christmas Bay.
“I know you’re closed, you dumb bitch,” he slurred.
She reached for her phone on the counter, but was shaking so hard, she ended up batting it further away.
“You need to leave,” she said, her voice sounding miraculously firm. She actually felt like she was having a heart attack. “Or I’m going to call the police.”
His mouth stretched into a grin. “Oh, you’re going to call the police? Like you called the county about my boy?”
Kyla’s stomach dropped. Oh, no. Oh, God. No wonder he looked familiar. This was Hunter’s dad.
All of a sudden, the pieces shifted and fell into place. His wife had finally left him. She’d moved with their son to another city. He was drunk and alone and pissed off. And he blamed her for all of it.
Without taking her eyes off him, she reached for the phone again, this time grabbing on to it with a vise grip.
She stepped quickly behind the counter and dialed 911.
“You think you can just screw with people’s lives like this?” he said, ignoring the fact that she was obviously calling the police. It was like he didn’t care. About anything. The look on his face said it all. He had nothing left to lose.
Kyla kept an eye on him closely as the phone rang once. And then a dispatcher picked up.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“I’m calling from Coastal Sweets on Main,” she said. “We have an intruder. Please hurry.”
“Ma’am, I have a unit—”
With catlike quickness, he reached out and slapped the phone out of her hand. It went flying and hit the wall behind her.
She gasped. Her ear rang, the side of her face going numb.
“You thought I wouldn’t come for you?” he said. “Is that what you thought?”
Kyla twisted around, looking for the phone.
“You’re not calling anybody,” he said quietly. “I never touched my kid.”
She turned on him then, triggered by the words. Liar. He was a liar and a coward. Unable to take any kind of responsibility. Unable to admit that he was a lousy father. Unable, or unwilling to try and do better. She thought of her mother then, and how their life together had been destroyed because of those very same traits.
Fury rose in her chest like fire, sparking and cracking, and giving her courage where there hadn’t been much before. Maybe this was the gift that her mom had finally bestowed on her all these years later. Maybe she was reaching across time and space, and saying, see? Something good came of it after all...
“Don’t you stand there and lie to me,” Kyla hissed. “I know better. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“And you should learn your place.”
He lunged forward and grabbed her before she could bolt. He squeezed her arm viciously and twisted it around. This close, he smelled even worse, and her eyes began to water. She was terrified of what he might do. But she was also livid that he had the nerve to come in here like this. To put his hands on her. To put his hands on his own son.
“Let me go!” she screamed, kicking him square between the legs.
He doubled over with a grunt, but held tight.
From across the shop, someone hit the door with such force that it shattered. In the furthest corner of her mind, she was aware of the glass tinkling to the floor.
And then that someone was pulling Gabe Mohatt off her with a deep, guttural sound that she knew she’d remember forever. A man, also in black. Tall and broad chested, with a silver badge pinned to it.
Ben. Her Ben...
“Get on the floor!” he growled. “Now!”
She blinked, her eyes filling with tears. They spilled down her cheeks as she stumbled backward and leaned against the wall for support. She watched the two men struggle a few feet away, but truthfully, it wasn’t much of a struggle. Ben had Gabe pinned to the floor, his knee planted firmly in his back. And then the handcuffs were on.
“Forty-seven twenty-one,” Ben panted into the mic on his shoulder.
The radio crackled. “Go ahead.”
“Code four, one in custody. Send backup code three, please.”
“Copy that.”
Kyla stood there staring down at him, holding her arm which was now starting to throb. Ben. In his crisp uniform, with his dark eyes flashing.
After a minute, they found hers, and his gaze immediately softened. “Are you okay, Kyla?”
She nodded, unable to speak.
A moment later, there were red-and-blue lights flashing outside. And more police officers walking through the shattered door, their boots crunching on the glass.
One of them hauled Gabe Mohatt to his feet and began reading him his rights. And then Ben was there. Pulling her into his arms, saying gentle things in her ear that she was having trouble understanding.
She just clung to him. As if her life depended on it. Because a few minutes ago, it actually had.
“You’re safe,” she realized he was saying over and over again. “You’re safe now.”
Kyla sat curled up on the couch the next afternoon, watching the fire crackle in the hearth. Outside, it was chilly, and a light rain pattered against the windows, making the old house feel even cozier.
She could hear Frances puttering around in the kitchen. Her foster mother was in full spoil mode. She’d brought in a plate of cookies earlier—peanut butter, Kyla’s favorite. And was now working on sandwiches for lunch.
You have to stop, Kyla had teased her. Or I’m going to end up weighing as much as Jacques. Frances had shushed her, of course. And pulled her blanket up farther over her shoulders.
Kyla looked down at the cat now, who was sleeping in a plump black-and-white ball in her lap. She hadn’t told anyone what he’d done before Gabe had come into the shop—about the hissing that had been a sign that something was definitely off. Partly because she was afraid they wouldn’t believe her. Even Frances, who had a tendency to think Jacques walked on water, might have a hard time with it, since cats weren’t exactly like dogs when it came to protecting their people. But mostly, Kyla had kept it to herself because it felt too special to share. An instant that might well have been meant to warn her. Maybe with help from someone from above.
At the moment, she didn’t want to think too much about it. She just wanted to sit with Jacques on her lap, listen to him purr and feel grateful that it all turned out okay. She had no doubt that if Ben hadn’t come when he had, she might’ve been struggling for her life. She’d never seen such cold, empty eyes as Gabe Mohatt’s. She knew he was capable of much, much worse than what he’d actually done.
She rubbed her upper arm where a series of black-and-purple bruises had bloomed this morning. He’d yanked it so hard, the EMT who’d looked her over last night thought she might have a rotator cuff injury, and told her to see her doctor to have it checked out. Kyla didn’t have a doctor in Christmas Bay, but she had Isabel, who was even better.
Leaning her head back against the couch, she breathed deeply. The woodsmoke from the fire filled her senses, along with the warm, sweet smell of the cookies on the plate next to her. A combination that reminded her of home. Of family. Of love and security that she’d come to know in this house. She was finally beginning to see that, as a person, as a woman, she was healing here. She was getting better.
Frances had so much to do with that. And so did Ben.
He was a concept that had taken a while to accept because she’d been fighting him so hard. At the beginning, she thought she’d have to lose her strength and independence if she allowed herself to need him. Now she knew that allowing herself to need him, or anyone else, was just another stage of her evolution. It wasn’t a sign of weakness to need love. It was a sign of strength to welcome it into your life, even after you’d been hurt by it in the past.
So, she guessed she had her mother to thank, too. She’d let Kyla down in so many ways. But she’d also taught her some invaluable lessons, lessons that she was still learning to this day. And in that way, her mom would always be with her—teaching her, and loving her in death, in a way that she hadn’t been able to in life.
Kyla stared into the fire, letting her thoughts ebb and flow like tributaries that led to the ocean. Cutting their own path, and showing her the way.
Frances walked in, and patted her knee. Then sat down beside her with a sigh.
“Lunch will be ready in a few,” she said. “I’m making some homemade tomato basil soup, your favorite.”
“Frances, what would I do without you?”
“Good thing you won’t have to find out, honey. You’re stuck with me.”
“I think we’re stuck with each other.”
Frances looked toward the fire too, and they gazed at it together, a comforting silence settling between them. It snapped and popped, the sap in the wood hissing every now and then. And then the logs would shift, and the embers would brighten momentarily, glowing orange, like tiny slivers of the sun.
“Did I ever tell you that I was afraid to become a foster parent?” Frances asked quietly.
Gazing at her, Kyla pushed herself up on the couch. “No, I’ve never heard you say that.”
“I was. I was scared to do it. Scared to get attached to children who weren’t mine.”
Kyla had never heard her say it, but she wasn’t surprised. There were times when she wondered how Frances had done it. She knew there had been other kids, before her and her foster sisters. Kids who had come and gone, who Frances never talked about much. And Kyla had never pushed, because she’d always gotten the feeling that the subject was a tender one.
“What made you change your mind?” she asked.
Frances looked over at her and smiled, the warmth of the fire flushing her cheeks. “Bud.”
Her late husband had been the love of her life. When he’d passed away, it had nearly broken Frances in two. They’d had a happy marriage inside this house above Cape Longing, but it hadn’t been nearly long enough. And when he’d left her, she’d told Kyla once that she was so lonely it felt like she’d never be happy again.
That was about all Kyla knew of Bud, except for the pictures around the house. He’d had a wonderful, vibrant smile, and kind blue eyes. He looked exactly like a man Frances would love.
“We’d never been able to have kids of our own,” Frances said wistfully. “And I wanted to adopt. But Bud wanted to give a home to as many children as possible, for however long they needed one. He had the biggest heart—he was such a good person. He would’ve been a good dad to you.”
Kyla felt a lump rise in her throat. How she would’ve loved that.
“I never talked about him much when you girls were growing up,” Frances continued, “because it was so painful. But that wasn’t the right thing to do. I should have talked about him every day. I should have made sure you all knew him, because he was the reason you came here. He wasn’t scared to get attached to any of our kids, because he knew that saying goodbye to them didn’t mean we had to stop loving them.”
Before Kyla realized that her eyes had filled with tears, they were already spilling down her cheeks.
“Aww, honey,” Frances said. “I hope I’m not making you sad by telling you this.”
“I’m glad you’re telling me. I’m so proud to have grown up in this house, Frances. I hope you know how proud I am, and how much I love you. And how thankful I am that you gave me a home when I needed one the most.”
Frances leaned forward. “And I’m just as proud of you. What happened with Hunter...what happened with his dad last night. You were so brave. You welcomed that boy into the shop and into our lives, when I know you had reservations about it. But your heart is big too, Kyla Bear. And now that boy has a fighting chance. He’s gone, but you can still love him.”
Kyla wiped the tears from her chin. She thought of her mother then. All the good and wonderful things, like her birthday cakes, and her hugs. And she felt an absolute peace spread over her like a warm blanket.
You’re gone, but I still love you...
Frances stood, her knees popping, and held out a hand.
“Come on,” she said. “The soup is ready.”
Ben stood on the doorstep, holding the get-well flowers in one hand, and Gracie’s hand in the other. She’d helped pick the bouquet out. Daisies—or as he now knew they were called, common daisies. He was also clutching a bag of gummy worms which Gracie had insisted on.
They’d had to go to the grocery store to get them, as Coastal Sweets was closed for the next few days to have the front door replaced. But he didn’t think Kyla would mind.
“Do you think Jacques is making her feel better?” Gracie asked, looking up at him with wide, serious eyes. “He’s such a good little fella.”
He smiled. “I think Jacques is definitely on duty.”
“Do you think he misses his bed at the shop?”
“I bet they brought it home while the shop is closed.”
“How long is it going to be closed?”
“Until they can get the glass fixed.”
“The glass that you broke?”
Ben would rather she didn’t know about what happened last night, but he had a cut above his eyebrow that he couldn’t explain away. So, he’d told her. And ever since then, she’d been elevating Kyla to princess status, and him to the Prince Charming who’d come to rescue her.
“Was Kyla very scared, Daddy?”
“Kyla was very strong. She called the police, and then she fought back. She’s a very strong lady.”
“I like her.”
“I like her, too.”
That was a little bit of an understatement. He was actually in love with her. He loved everything about her. He especially loved the way she made him feel—like he and his daughter were special to her. Like she might love them back.
It was too early to tell what would come of this new love, if anything at all. And that was okay. Right now, it was just enough to be feeling it again, to be feeling anything other than the bitterness that he’d grown so used to over the last few years. Kyla had come into his life, and lit it up. And he simply wanted to enjoy her warmth and light while it lasted.
He squeezed Gracie’s hand. “Ready?”
“Affirmative. Daddy.”
He reached up and knocked. And after a few seconds, Frances opened the door.
Smiling wide, she bent down and tweaked Gracie’s nose. “What a surprise!”
Gracie laughed, delighted, as usual, with anything Frances did. “We brought worms.”
“You brought worms? Well, you need to come in immediately, then. So we can share them.”
“Is this a good time?” Ben asked. “We can come back...”
“Don’t be silly. You’re the best thing that’s happened today.”
Frances ushered them inside, fussing over Gracie’s new dress.
“Is that new?”
“It’s brand-new,” Gracie said, giving her a little twirl. And then a curtsy, killing Ben dead.
“Isabel brought it over the other day,” he said. “I think she likes it.”
“It’s absolutely adorable.”
It was pretty cute. Yellow, with little honeybees all over it. Different than Gracie’s usual palette of pink and purple, but it suited her. A ray of sunshine.
“Did I hear something about worms?”
This, from Kyla who was camped out on the sofa next to a crackling fire. She was leaning forward, trying to see into the entryway, a soft cream-colored blanket falling off one of her bare shoulders.
Ben’s heartbeat slowed in his chest. She’d just grown more stunning since last night. Since the moment he realized how he truly felt about her. Since the moment he’d nearly lost her. She’d always been lovely. But he didn’t think she’d ever be more lovely than she was right then, her dark hair wavy around her face, her gray eyes settling on him with a knowing look in them. He thought that look might be mirroring his own.
He leaned down close to Gracie. “Be careful around Kyla, okay?” he said into her ear. “I think she’s a little sore, and her arm probably doesn’t feel very good.”
“Jacques is nursing her, Daddy,” she whispered back. “Look. Right on her lap.”
“He sure is.”
Straightening up again, he nudged Gracie forward, and they headed into the living room. Jacques looked up and blinked at them through yellow eyes. He was taking his job very seriously, looking like he hadn’t moved in hours.
Kyla beamed. She wore no makeup, and was so pretty that he almost forgot he was standing there holding flowers like a kid picking up his prom date.
“We brought you something to make you feel better,” he said.
“Just you being here is enough to make me feel better.” She winked at Gracie.
“Here,” he said, handing her the flowers. And then the gummy worms. “Those are from Gracie.”
“We had to go to the grocery store to get those, since Daddy broke your door.”
Kyla laughed, glancing up at him. “He did break my door, didn’t he?”
“And he got a cut on his eye.”
Kyla frowned then, looking closer.
“It’s nothing,” he said.
“It bled a little,” Gracie said. “But Aunt Isabel told him to put some medicine on it, and it’ll be just fine. A-okay, that’s what she said.”
Frances poked her head out of the kitchen. “Gracie, I just took some peanut butter cookies out of the oven a few minutes ago. Do you want some with a glass of milk?”
Gracie’s eyes lit up and she tugged on Ben’s hand. “Can I?”
“Of course. Be sure and say thank you.”
She ran into the kitchen, her sandals slapping on the hard wood floor.
After a few seconds, Kyla patted the spot next to her. “Come here, Ben.”
He sat, careful not to jostle her.
“You do have a cut,” she said. “Why didn’t I see that before?”
“It’s just a scratch. And you were a little busy with your own injuries.”
“I’m okay.”
But she wasn’t. The bruises were clearly visible above the blanket, and he felt a slow fury build inside him. Gabe Mohatt was lucky he’d be safely behind bars for a while.
She reached for his hand, then brought it to her chest. The backs of his knuckles brushed against her breasts, and below his anger, there was a stirring of something else.
“I’m okay because of you,” she said.
“If I hadn’t gotten to you first, the sheriff’s office would have. They were close, thank Jesus.”
“I’m not talking about last night.”
He watched her. Loving her. Seeing her then, in all her complexity and layers. How lovely they all were.
“You changed my life, Ben,” she said quietly. “Thank you for following your heart that day.”
And like she had so many times since coming home to Christmas Bay, she reminded him of that little girl she’d been. He’d had no idea all those years ago that Kyla Beckett would grow up so brave, so forgiving, so full of fire in her belly.
“I don’t know that I could’ve done anything else,” he said.
“I know. And I love you for it.”
He looked down at her hand in his, and saw how perfectly they fit together. Like they were always meant to be. And maybe they were. Maybe the story he and Kyla had started so long ago wasn’t done being told yet.
“Kyla,” he began, not quite sure how he was going to say this. But knowing he needed to tell her what was in his heart. If he’d done the right thing in following it that day, he was going to follow it today. He owed that to himself. And he owed it to Gracie, too.
“Me first,” she said.
He looked back up at her.
“I’ve been thinking. About leaving...”
He braced himself. But it didn’t really matter what she was about to say. He still loved her. That wouldn’t change. If she had to go, he’d just have to love her from afar.
“And I don’t really want to,” she said evenly, her eyes taking him in with that sexy, knowing warmth.
“Why is that?”
“Frances needs me. And you know, after everything that’s happened, it just feels really good to be home. I’ve missed it here. I’ve missed the town, the people. The ocean... But there also happens to be this really great guy, and he’s got this sweet little girl, and I’ve actually fallen for them both.”
If he’d had any more doubts about letting himself fall for her too, they were gone in that instant. He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand, reveling in the feel of her skin underneath his fingertips.
“You’re too late,” he said, with a slow smile. “I heard he’s already kind of sweet on this lady from the candy shop. Maybe you know her...from up north somewhere?”
She smiled back as he leaned in close, his lips hovering over hers.
“No,” she whispered. “She’s from here. She’s always been from right here.”