22
Marie.” Elliot Carrington’s voice never changed, always cold, always businesslike.
“It didn’t take you long to get here.”
His gaze swept over Jack, his frown announcing that he’d clearly found something lacking in the other man’s mild manner and relaxed attire. “Are we going to talk on the porch, or is there somewhere private”—again he stared at Jack—“we can speak?”
“Can use the parlor if you like. We moved in the furniture last night. It’s just missing the finishing touches you already picked out.”
“Thank you.” Marie touched his arm, wishing for all she was worth that this man, with his wrinkled features and wide smile, had been her real dad.
Instead she walked into the parlor off the entryway. The antique burgundy love seat she’d found at Aretha’s sat along one wall. Adjacent to it was a gray wingback chair and matching ottoman. The end tables and hutches were all in place. What the room needed were those personal touches. The lamps and antique books she’d so carefully selected.
And, of course, guests to enjoy the space.
She sat in the chair, but immediately stood back up when her dad began to pace the room. He towered over her, nearly as tall as Seth, and she wasn’t going to give up any more height than she had to.
“I hope you’ve had fun. I’ve been worried to death about you.”
“Were you?” The tone of her voice matched his, so cold that it could have burst a few pipes on its own.
“What kind of question is that? Of course I was. You ran off without a note or any way to contact you. I called your cell and filled up the voice mail. You never returned my calls.”
“That’s because I dropped the phone in a trash can at the bus terminal in Bangor. But I’m sure you already knew that. You probably had it tracked within hours.” She crossed her arms over her stomach and stared at her tennis shoes. They weren’t the only piece of her clothing stained with paint and dirt. She was surprised he’d even recognized her without her designer labels.
“Of course I knew,” he snapped, pausing to glower at her. “I did everything I could to track you down, but instead I had almost two months of silence. Two months of worrying about you. If your mother were alive she’d be horrified.”
“Maybe. But she never would have let you try to use me to get a better deal with Derek Summerville.”
“I never!” His voice rose. “Where did you come up with such a ridiculous story? Is that why you ran away? Well, forget it. It’s a lie.”
“I didn’t run away. Twenty-eight-year-olds don’t run away. I left when I overheard you trying to use me to make your deal.”
His stony exterior cracked but went back up almost immediately. He resumed his marching, shaking his head. “I don’t know what you think you heard, but it was never cause for this. I’m not even trying to do a deal with Summerville.”
Had she misheard him? Was it possible that this was all a misunderstanding and she’d left Boston for no good reason?
No.
This was his ploy and his plan. Always, always, he made her doubt her decisions.
“Then what about the Times article?”
He snapped to attention, his eyes narrowed and turned hard as steel. “What article?”
“I read it.” The words felt like acid on her tongue. “It said you were still looking for an expert for your case against the historical significance of whatever’s on his property. That expert was me. You were looking for me. Because when I left, you couldn’t lord me over his head and force him to sell. And you couldn’t promise him that I wouldn’t press charges if you didn’t have me under your thumb.”
Her stomach ached, and she would have given the entire sum of her trust fund to have Seth standing by her side. Facing her father had seemed so much more manageable when she’d pictured Seth’s broad shoulders to lean on.
She hadn’t known it when she left Boston, but what she’d needed was more than an escape from her father. What she’d needed—what she’d been missing for most of her life—was family. All she’d wanted was family. Someone to love and someone who loved her.
The man standing on the other side of the room didn’t know how to love her. She wouldn’t let him talk her into thinking he did.
Elliot waved off her comment like it was a bad call in baseball. “Don’t be silly. Our company does hundreds of deals in a year. Anyone at the firm could be working with Summerville.”
“You were quoted in the article.”
Another dismissive wave and toss of his head. His perfectly styled hair didn’t budge. “It could have been about anything.”
“But it wasn’t.” She ran her hands down the front of her shirt.
At a stalemate, they stared at each other, neither willing to give up the high ground. He glowered at her, apparently expecting her to back down. Clearly she’d learned stubbornness from him. And he wasn’t pleased that she was using it against him now.
“What do you want, Dad? Why did you come here?”
With furrowed eyebrows he shook his head. “What do I want? I want my only daughter to come home. I want to have my family close.”
“We’re not a family.” Prickles along her scalp made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the following chills.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” His roar, while not louder than normal, was lethal. “Of course we are a family.”
“Not since Mom died. And maybe not really before then.”
He spun around and walked to the door, his hand resting on the handle. “You’re coming with me. Don’t argue anymore. You sound like a child.”
She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of fresh paint and antique furniture. “Maybe so, but I’m not a kid anymore. And I’m not going back to Boston.”
“And I suppose you’re going to make this rinky-dink town your home? Is that it?” He spit the words out like they tasted bad. “You’re going to find a use for your Wharton MBA here?”
“Probably not.” It hurt to say the words more than she expected. Not that she couldn’t find a use for her degree, but that she wouldn’t be in North Rustico to look for one. “I’ll go where I need to. And I can do that now. I needed a safe place, and I found it here. Now I can face whatever I need to. But I’m not going back to Boston with you.”
He cursed low and long, finally yanking on the hem of his jacket and straightening the lapels. “Obviously we need some time to relax. You’ve been thinking something terrible for a long time, and it’s gotten to your head. I’ll take a room here for the night, and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”
“You can’t. The inn’s not open yet.”
“Fine. I’ll find another in town.”
“Don’t bother looking. There aren’t any other bed-and-breakfasts in North Rustico.”
His eyes flashed as his face turned red. “What kind of place is this?”
“It’s my kind of place.” A little smile worked its way across her lips, and she pressed her fingers over her mouth. This was her kind of town. With people like Jack and Aretha and Caden. Even Father Chuck and Caden’s slew of nieces and nephews. They were her kind of people. And that made this home.
Maybe she didn’t have to leave.
Maybe she didn’t have to keep running or keep searching for something she’d already found.
She nodded, pulling her fingers from where they’d twisted into the bottom of her sweatshirt. She had found it. She’d been about to leave, but she didn’t want to anymore. She’d never really wanted to.
Now she didn’t have to.
Her own fears, her dad’s conniving, even Seth’s response, couldn’t drive her away from the home that she’d found.
“Thank you, Dad.”
His glare could cut through platinum. “For what?”
“I just realized that I don’t have to go. I can stay here, where I want to.” She walked toward him with open arms, almost as if to hug him, although she couldn’t remember the last time they’d touched. Instead, she opened the door and ushered him into the empty foyer. “And now you can go. You know where I am, and I’m staying put.”
He bent at the waist, his fists balled in front of him. “You’re not willing to help me out with a deal? You’d let me lose out on a multimillion-dollar investment deal for this?”
And there it was. His motivation for everything.
“Yes. I would. Now I want you to go.”
“You’re throwing away everything. Everything. And for what? For some indiscretion by Summerville’s son?” He’d dropped all pretenses, the fury in his eyes clearly caused by what he’d patently denied just minutes before.
“It wasn’t some little indiscretion. Don’t trivialize it like that.” Heart pounding, she forced out the word she hated most. “He raped me. Do you not get that?”
“It’s over now, but you can still use it to help our company.”
“It’s not my company.” Her hands shook with pent-up rage as she hurled the words at him. “I won’t do it. I won’t be party to that. He deserves to be in prison for what he did, and I won’t give up my right to see that happen just for your deal.”
He’d never struck her before, so his unexpected movement caught her off guard. She flinched before his hand could strike her face. And then suddenly it was gone, wrenched behind his back as Seth hauled him to the front door.
“I believe the lady asked you to leave. You’re not welcome here unless she invites you back. Do you understand?”
“Let go of me.” He wiggled and writhed, but Seth didn’t let him go until he was firmly planted next to her flower beds. “I’ll have all your money for this.”
“By all means.” Seth dug into his pocket, found a loonie one-dollar coin, and flicked it at Elliot. “That’s all I’ve got to my name.”
As he marched up the stairs, Seth eyed her like a starving man spying a fresh steak. “That made my day.”
She nodded in appreciation and offered a half smile. “Thank you.”
He nodded in return, his smile more in his eyes than on his mouth. “I’ll be right inside if you need me.”
She stopped him with a hand on his arm, those telltale butterflies taking another spin around her insides. Heat washed over her as he stared at the place where their skin touched. Always the instant, undeniable reaction to him.
And this time more than ever, as he’d saved her from a red cheek and probably a black eye.
He’d heard it all, and he’d still come to her rescue.
Seth left the door open, and she took an extra breath for courage as she faced down her father’s sputtering curses.
“You should leave the island now. Go back to Boston and tell Mr. Summerville that I’ll be there soon.”
“To swear out a warrant against his son.”
Aretha knocked on the red door and arranged the tablecloth over her picnic basket as she waited. She tapped her toe and hummed the fiddle reel that had been playing in the store that afternoon. The warm evening breeze swept over her. She hadn’t been this content in years. Not since her husband had left, really.
Seth answered the door, a hopeful smile falling away from his face. “Aretha, it’s good to see you.” He didn’t exactly sound like he meant that, but she let it go for the moment.
“I brought dinner.” She held up her basket and he motioned her in.
“I hope not a pork and jerk.”
She touched a finger to her nose and smiled all the way up at him. Goodness, his head nearly touched the top of the door frame. “You’re quite right. Where are Jack and Marie? I haven’t seen you hardly at all since you moved back in here. My house is awful quiet. I didn’t even realize how quiet until it was noisy again. Chapter and I just don’t make enough of a racket, I suppose.” She looked around, hoping to spot Jack’s broad grin. “So, the dining room?”
“Sure. The dining room is great.” He led the way into the house and disappeared behind the swinging kitchen door. When he emerged a moment later, he had a stack of plates in his hands. “The dishes and flatware came in, so we can actually eat on real plates.”
“Wonderful. Marie must be so excited.”
He set the dishes down and put a hand on his waist before plunging the other one through his hair, which was already a disheveled mess. Actually, all of him was a mess. From his rumpled T-shirt to his stained pants. Even the dingy socks that he plodded around in were hanging off his toes.
“Seth, are you all right?”
“Sure. Great.”
“Seth . . . tell me the truth.”
He kept his head down but glanced up, misery in his eyes.
She put her hands on her hips and frowned at him. “Where is Jack?”
“He’s out back checking on the new garden. He’ll be in here in a minute, I’m sure. We just planted squash and green beans. And Jack has a tomato plant he’s trying to get to bud. He figured now that the weather is warmer they won’t freeze. Might be pretty good, even.”
The boy’s tongue flapped like it was attached with a hinge. Like he was intent on keeping her from having a chance to ask any more questions. That had never stopped her in all her sixty-seven years.
“Where’s Marie?”
He cleared his throat just as Jack slammed the back door. “Something smells wonderful! I know that’s not Seth. Must be my favorite girl.” He strode through the kitchen without stopping to wash his hands and leaned in to hug her.
She put her hands up and stepped out of his reach. “Where’s Marie?”
He stopped and rubbed black hands together. Shooting a glance at Seth, he shrugged. “She’s staying with Caden for a bit.”
“Why?” But she already knew. These fool men. They’d run her off. The best thing that had ever happened to them, and they’d chased her away.
Seth dipped his head, more grade-schooler than grown man. “There was a misunderstanding.”
“So why didn’t you go after her and explain? Apologize if you need to. That’s what grown-ups do.”
Jack cleared his throat and nodded. “That’s what I’ve been telling him. He’s got to go after her and apologize.”
She shot him a stern look, and he quieted down. “You’re in no position to give the boy advice about going after what he wants. We’ll come back to you in a minute.” Turning her attention back to the younger Sloane, she stepped into his space, staring hard into his puppy-dog eyes. “Nothing’s so bad that you can’t ask for forgiveness. She cares about you too, you know.”
He stood up a little straighter. Maybe he just needed to be reminded that he wasn’t the only one with a hurting heart. But his face didn’t brighten and his words were laced with anger. “It’s not that easy. I said something terrible.” So that anger was directed at himself.
“What did you say?”
He looked at Jack as though begging for him to step in. But his uncle had the good sense to stay where he was. No need to get mixed up in this. She’d have a few choice words for him in a moment.
With no help coming, Seth cleared his throat. “I said that she was just like my ex-fiancée.”
“Who did what?”
“Swindled me out of my business and life savings.”
Aretha couldn’t stop herself. She smacked his arm, which didn’t budge. In fact, she was pretty sure it hurt her hand more than him, but the grief registering on his face melted her heart. “That was an awful thing to do. You’ve run her off just to spite your own self.”
He looked up at the ceiling, running both hands over his face. “She was offering a loan, offering to be a partner with Jack. Reece wanted to be my partner too. That’s how she got on all of my accounts, cleaned me out, and left the country.”
“You do realize how stupid that is. Marie is not this Reece girl.”
“I know. It was stupid.”
“Good. We’re on the same page. Now go talk with her. Make it right.”
“I don’t think she wants to talk with me right now. She was here this morning, and she left as fast as she could after her dad took off.” Seth’s shoulders, those big broad shoulders that had rebuilt the house in which they stood, slumped.
“Her father was here? At the Red Door?” What else weren’t these men telling her?
They both nodded mutely. Perfect.
She sighed, giving him a firm pat on his rather muscular arm. “So, what? She walked out of this house, but she didn’t go home with her dad, right? You’re just going to let her go? That is not how a man treats the woman he loves.”
“Whoa.” His hands shot up as if he was defending himself. “Who said anything about being in love with her? We’re friends. We get along.”
He wouldn’t even see the nose on his own face if someone didn’t point it out. “It doesn’t even take both eyes to see how much you care about each other. I’ve seen the glances you give her when you think no one is watching. Well, I’m watching. I’ve seen them. So set it right. Now.”
“I’ve been telling him the same thing.”
“Oh, don’t get me started, Jack Sloane.” Her voice jumped at least an octave, but she was rolling too fast to stop now. Wagging a finger at him, she said, “You’ve been perfectly content to create an inn for your late wife, who I think I would have loved being friends with, while building a relationship with another woman.” She waved her finger in the air, her heart beating fast enough to steal her breath. “You don’t get to give love advice. Not until you figure out what you want and decide to do something about it.”
She snatched up her picnic basket, ignoring the stunned looks on their faces, and swung around. “There won’t be any more free meals from me until then either.”