LUKE WAITED FOR a while to see if Nicole would return in time for lunch, and then walked with the girls to a pizza place he’d seen near the brick-paved pedestrian shopping street.
He wasn’t overly impressed with the restaurants in Glimmer Creek so far. The offerings seemed limited to things like steak houses and glorified hamburger stands.
Figuring the vegetables would be canned or prepackaged, he ordered an olive-and-pepperoni pizza, only to notice mushrooms and other toppings being prepared fresh in the open kitchen.
“I’d like to change my order,” he said to the cashier, who had given him a credit-card slip to sign.
“Oh.” The kid, who was probably barely out of high school, looked down at the cash register, nonplussed. He fiddled with the keys for a moment before turning his head. “Boss, how do you cancel a charge? Someone wants to change their order.”
A faint ripple of groans went through the line of people who’d come in behind them.
A woman with a no-nonsense air came over and reversed the transaction.
“What will you have, sir?” she asked crisply.
Luke checked the menu. “A medium vegetarian pizza with artichoke hearts to go. And to eat here, a medium special pizza with extra mushrooms and...” He focused on Beth and Annie, realizing he should have asked their preferences first. “What would you like, girls?”
They whispered in each other’s ears for a minute. “Pineapple,” Beth finally pronounced.
“You mean Hawaiian, with Canadian bacon.”
Beth shook her head. “Just pineapple.”
The growing crowd behind them was getting restless and Luke gave them a cool glance. There were two cash registers and it wasn’t his fault that the restaurant had only opened one.
He focused on the woman taking his order. “In addition to the pizza to go, we’ll have a medium pizza to eat here, half the special with extra mushrooms, the other half with just pineapple. We’d also like a pitcher of lemonade and an order of cheese bread sticks with marinara sauce.”
The woman rang up the charge and handed him a new slip. “Please sign here, Mr. Forrester.”
Luke signed and took the girls to a table. The restaurant was similar to some of the dives he’d eaten at while in college. A trust fund from his paternal grandparents had been available to help with his education expenses, but he’d used most of it to start buying and selling real estate and investing in stocks. It hadn’t left money for high living.
The teenager had returned to the cash register and was taking orders. Luke heard him apologize for the delay, saying their second cash register was broken and they were waiting for repairs. So that was the explanation.
The pitcher of lemonade arrived and he poured three glasses, wishing he could have the coffee supplied at Poppy Gold instead. The food they served was excellent, as well.
When the pizzas and bread sticks were brought to the table, he handed the server a twenty-dollar bill, though tips left on the table hadn’t been customary at the pizza parlors he’d gone to in college. “Thanks. Can you tell me if the Poppy Gold caterer runs a restaurant in town?”
“Not a restaurant, but a bakery called Sarah’s Sweet Treats. It’s just down the street. Did you need change, sir?” she asked, gesturing with the bill he’d given her.
“No, that’s for you. I just wanted to be sure you got it.” She looked surprised, then smiled her thanks before hurrying away. He served slices to Beth and Annie. “Let the food cool down,” he warned, and they obediently kept their hands in their laps until he told them it was all right.
The food was tasty, but Luke was distracted watching his daughters. Pineapple? He liked Hawaiian pizza with Canadian bacon and pineapple, just not by itself. He’d half expected the twins to wrinkle their noses and refuse to eat after taking a bite, or else to scrape off the fruit, but they seemed to enjoy their choice.
The sky had cleared by the time they came out of the pizza parlor and the girls’ moods brightened. On the walk back to Poppy Gold, Annie cried, “Carlie!” and took off running, with Beth not far behind.
Luke caught up with them and Carlie gestured to the pizza box he carried. “I see you’ve discovered Valentino’s.”
“It reminds me of the pizza I ate in college.”
“I also like Giancarlo’s Little Italy. They deliver, too, which is nice. I particularly enjoy their pasta primavera and salads.”
He knew he’d annoyed her on Saturday night with his comment about an interview, though she’d tried to conceal her reaction. Since then she’d been coolly pleasant to him, but with the girls she was warm and approachable and they’d continued asking her to attend various activities with them. At a choral performance in the concert hall late Sunday afternoon, Annie had actually sat on Carlie’s lap, while Beth leaned against her shoulder.
“By the way,” Luke said, “what did you want to talk to me about on Saturday? We never got back to it.”
“Maybe Annie and Beth would like to check out our DVD library while we chat,” she suggested.
“Sure.”
Apparently Carlie wanted a private discussion. They returned to Old City Hall and she took them into one of the rooms they hadn’t seen before, behind the reception area. It was paneled in mahogany, with an ornate fireplace and chandelier. Bookshelves matching the paneling covered most of the wall space.
“Nice,” Luke murmured.
“This used to be the mayor’s office. According to the stories, he paid to finish the interior of city hall, thinking it would guarantee his reelection, only to get booted out midterm when the citizenry discovered...” Carlie’s voice trailed off and she looked at the girls. “Annie, Beth, kids’ books and DVDs are over there.” She pointed to the opposite end of the room and the twins began exploring.
“Discovered what?” Luke asked in a low tone, suspecting it was one of two things.
“That Mayor Colonel Stafford owned a string of brothels from Coloma to San Diego. He was also invested in shipping and patent medicines, but most of his wealth came from old-fashioned sex.”
Owning brothels wasn’t one of the options Luke had considered. “Really?”
“Definitely. Glimmer Creek started out as a rough-and-ready gold mining camp, but when Victorian civility took over, the town got prudish. For years a number of women refused to even enter Old City Hall because the services of ‘good-time’ girls had paid for the decorating.”
Shaking his head, Luke set the pizza he’d gotten for Nicole on one of the side tables, only to have Carlie scoop it up with a faintly alarmed expression.
“That’s an antique, original to the office,” she advised hastily. “Let me have this delivered to the John Muir Cottage for you.”
“I’ll handle it,” volunteered the young woman who’d stepped in from the reception area.
“Thanks, Christine.”
Luke was rarely embarrassed, but discomfort went through him. The pizza box was warm and damp. Grease also stained the lid and presumably the bottom, so placing it on an antique table hadn’t been the best move.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said. “I’ll pick it up at the front desk.”
“Very well, Mr. Forrester.”
Christine exchanged a look with Carlie and left.
“What burning topic do you want to discuss?” Luke asked.
“Hardly burning,” Carlie returned. “I wondered if Annie and Beth would each like to decorate a Christmas tree for their bedroom. They have such different styles, I thought it would be nice if they could explore them in a personal tree.”
Though Luke recognized the differences between his identical twin daughters, it surprised him that a virtual stranger had seen the same thing. But then, Carlie was unusual. She’d been able to tell Beth and Annie apart from the beginning, something few people could do, even after knowing them for years.
“I’m sure they’d love it.”
Carlie smiled. “In that case, I’ve already selected two high-quality artificial trees and boxes of ornaments for the project. I’ll bring them over tomorrow and leave everything on the porch if you aren’t there. I thought the trees could be Annie’s and Beth’s own individual works of art.”
“I suppose, though they’ll probably look similar when they’re done.”
Carlie hiked one eyebrow. “If that’s what you think, then I suggest you watch which ornaments they pick and distract Beth from convincing Annie to make different choices.” She checked the grandfather clock ticking in one corner. “Um, I have to go. If you want any books or DVDs, they can be checked out with the front desk. Don’t forget your pizza in Guest Reception.”
* * *
CARLIE HURRIED OUT.
She didn’t know if she’d crossed the line with her remark about Beth, but Luke didn’t seem to realize how often Beth overrode her sister’s wishes. In the few days they’d been at Poppy Gold, Carlie had already seen it happen several times.
Annie wasn’t weak-willed; she just seemed more concerned about keeping the peace than her sister, sending worried glances at her father whenever Beth pushed for something to be done her way.
Kids squabbled. It was part of growing up. But why was Annie so concerned about not making a fuss? Perhaps it was losing her mother or a natural shyness that made her recoil from creating a scene.
Carlie wondered how much time Luke was actually spending with his daughters if he wasn’t aware of the odd push-pull dynamic between the girls. She had a head start on understanding twin behavior after watching her brothers grow up, but Luke was obviously intelligent enough to see what was going on. Of course, he was ambitious and assertive himself, so he might approve of Beth’s behavior.
Vaguely depressed, Carlie headed over to the Douglas House, where high tea was being served soon. There were two sittings, the first at 1:30 p.m. and the second at 4:00 p.m. It was presented as living history, with the “hostess” wearing a Victorian costume and greeting guests as if they were entering her home in 1897.
During the holiday season, high tea was available at the Douglas House seven days a week, except on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Carlie had loved going to the tea parties when she was a little girl, but now they were largely adult affairs.
Inside the living room, one of her aunts, Mattie Pennington, was doing a final check on the food and making sure the tables were set to her satisfaction. “Hi, Carlie. Are you staying for tea?”
“Wish I could. I just wanted a word with Jamie. Is she back from doing her spiel at the train depot?”
“No—sorry. I’ll have her call when she’s free, but the guests will be arriving shortly. What do you have in mind?”
Jamie Fullerton was another cousin who worked at Poppy Gold. She did a living-history performance at the train depot before coming to help serve tea to guests with Aunt Mattie. Jamie was a talented kid. Hardworking, too. She and her boyfriend, Lance Beckley, were taking college classes together at night and on their days off.
“I thought it would be nice to have a few morning tea parties for the under-twelve crowd,” Carlie said, trying to snitch a cucumber sandwich from a plate and getting her fingers slapped by the “maid,” who happened to be another cousin. They grinned at each other and Katie slipped it to her, anyway. “If Jamie is interested, I thought she could handle the hostess duties.”
“I’ll mention it. She’s always thrilled to try something new. Oh, did you hear? Lance has decided against going in the navy. He’ll keep working with Poppy Gold’s antique vehicles while he gets a degree in civil engineering.”
“That’s terrific. Uncle Liam says he’s very mechanically minded.”
Carlie left, munching her tiny sandwich. She’d missed lunch again, but had wanted to get everything together for Annie and Beth’s Christmas trees.
* * *
WHEN LUKE STEPPED through the front door of the Yosemite suite, a strange sight captured his attention. A scrawny kitten was scratching a piece of fabric on the stone hearth in front of the fireplace, trying to cover evidence of a puddle. A blue cone-type thing around its neck was impeding its progress and it seemed genuinely embarrassed being caught in such an ignominious position.
“Omigod.” Nicole ran out of the kitchen wearing a different outfit than the one she’d been wearing at breakfast. She dropped a towel over the puddle before picking up the cat and cuddling it in her arms. “Sorry, Luke. This is the kitten I told you about.”
“Told me about?”
“In my voice-mail message.”
Damn.
He’d forgotten to turn his phone back on after he finished working earlier. “I’m afraid my cell has been off. What happened?”
“I found him near a road outside of town while I was out walking. He’s seen a veterinarian and I want to take him back to Austin with me. I already have food, but I have to call Housekeeping for other supplies. Poppy Gold has cats residing at the Victorian Cat mansion, so I thought they might have an extra litter box and stuff he could use,” she said in a nervous rush.
Luke nearly grinned. Whatever it took, he’d make sure his sister kept the kitten to which she’d plainly given her heart.
“You haven’t even been at Poppy Gold for twenty-four hours. How do you know about the Victorian Cat?”
“I explored the website, of course. Didn’t you?”
He shrugged. The cursory glance he’d given the site didn’t count. He would have learned a number of important pieces of information if he’d done a better job checking everything for himself. Not that their visit wasn’t working out now that he’d adjusted his expectations.
“I’ll take care of contacting the housekeeper,” he said. “Watch to be sure your new friend doesn’t do anything else that’s socially unacceptable. Carlie just reminded me there are a lot of antiques here at Poppy Gold.”
“Can we see him, Aunt Nicole?” asked Beth, hopping from one foot to the other.
The kitten shrank against Nicole as she sat on the couch and answered their questions about why he was wearing the cone around his neck. “He’s still a baby and healing from an injury. You need to be gentle,” she warned.
Luke took the pizza box into the kitchen and leafed through the information packet. Gloria Mendoza was the head of Housekeeping, so he dialed her number and explained their needs. “Naturally I’ll pay extra. Also for any supplies.”
“Don’t be concerned, Mr. Forrester. The John Muir Cottage is one of the few buildings where we allow small pets, though we ask you to monitor their behavior. I’ll have a litter box delivered immediately.” She went on, saying something about the circumstances of their visit and that she didn’t see the need to add a charge for supplies during their complimentary period, since the cost was minimal.
Luke was distracted by the sight of his daughters’ excitement over the kitten, so the gist of her comments didn’t sink in until after he’d disconnected.
Complimentary period?
It seemed odd, but he put it out of his mind as they waited for Housekeeping.
“There’s a pizza in the kitchen for you,” he told Nicole, “but it’s cold by now.”
“I’ll have some later. Weren’t microwave ovens invented to heat pizza and make popcorn?”
“Got me. In college, I’d stick a leftover pepperoni pizza under my bed and eat it cold until I ran out and needed to get more.”
Nicole shuddered. “Yuck. You’re lucky you didn’t poison yourself.”
Luke didn’t remember it being that bad, but he’d been chronically short on sleep as a working student and eating cold pizza had been the least of his concerns. One thing was certain, though—it had made him determined that his sister wouldn’t have to go through the same thing.
A short time later, a knock sounded and he opened the door to two Poppy Gold employees.
“Hello, sir. We understand you need a litter box for a rescued kitten,” said one of the women. “Because your suite is two-story, Mrs. Mendoza thought it would be best to have a box on each floor. Would you like us to set them up?”
“Can you put one in the tower bedroom?” Nicole asked.
“Of course.”
The job was handled quickly and Nicole decided to shut the kitten into her room to help keep him quieter while they went out to see a puppet show in the park.
Luke was surprised his sister was willing to leave her new baby alone. She reminded him of one of his senior executives when she’d first become a mother—fiercely protective and prone to separation anxiety.
* * *
CARLIE OBJECTED WHEN the Glimmer Creek High School drama class wanted to change the scheduled puppet program to a Punch-and-Judy show when they arrived, declaring it didn’t fit the Christmas spirit. Perhaps that hadn’t occurred to the young puppeteers, because they looked startled and agreed.
The budding thespians were doing the show as a class project and they’d probably decided their original story of a lost toy searching for its child was too tame. However, while “Punch and Judy” might provide comic relief, Carlie didn’t care for its violent premise.
Carlie was glad the weather had cleared enough for an open-air show. While they’d been prepared to move the event into the concert hall, it was more fun this way.
She snagged a cup of cocoa and a mandarin orange from the treat table and waved at the Forrester family approaching down the block. She’d told the twins about the performance the day before and they had, as had already become their habit, begged her to watch with them.
For the next several weeks, some type of Christmas performance would take place every afternoon in the Poppy Gold town square park. In most cases it would be the local theater group, class projects, the glee and drama clubs from the junior and senior high schools or a choir from one of the churches.
“Carlie,” called Beth, rushing over to her. “Guess what? Aunt Nicole found a lost kitty.”
“It got hurt,” Annie said in a much quieter voice.
“That’s too bad.”
“Uh-huh. He’s got four white paws and—”
“They aren’t white,” Beth interrupted. “They’re all dirty. He’s got tiger stripes and long fur and has to wear this blue thing around his neck to stop him from licking the cut on his leg.”
Annie’s face scrunched up, but it wasn’t clear whether it was from anger or hurt. Carlie didn’t think it was her place to say something, but Luke didn’t appear to have noticed, so she crouched in front of Beth. “White feet are white, kiddo, even when they’re dirty. Okay?”
Beth nodded and Annie appeared happier. Kids were kids and they sometimes interrupted each other the way adults did; it just always seemed to be Beth doing it to Annie.
“Papa, may we have hot chocolate?” Annie asked.
“Sure. Let’s go get it.”
Carlie turned to Nicole Forrester when they were alone. They’d met the previous afternoon, but Nicole had been pale and withdrawn; she looked much more rested now. “How is the kitten?”
“Dr. Cartwright says he should be all right. The wound is already healing, but he’s really thin. Apparently somebody dumped him outside of town.”
“People like that make me crazy.”
“Me, too. And he’s such a darling little guy. You’ll have to see him once he’s settled down and feeling better.”
Carlie could tell she was going to like Nicole Forrester, which was ironic considering her brother was such a royal pain in the behind. But she didn’t have time to say anything before Luke and the girls returned with their cups and one for Nicole.
The puppeteers brought everyone to attention and began their performance, which, judging by the audience participation and applause, was still a success without the heightened action of a Punch-and-Judy show.
“Carlie, I wanted to ask about something,” Luke said afterward. “When I spoke to Mrs. Mendoza about supplies for the kitten, she mentioned a complimentary period. What did that mean?”
It didn’t surprise Carlie in the least that Luke Forrester was unaware of the circumstances of his visit. He probably had employees who took care of mundane details like making reservations and travel arrangements.
“The owners of Poppy Gold try to assist military families and service members who are, uh, going through rough patches.” Carlie looked at the twins, hoping they weren’t paying attention and that nobody else could hear what was being said. “We get referrals from a variety of sources. The first week is a gift. If there’s a need to stay longer, an at-cost rate is given for the remaining time.”
Luke stiffened. “That’s unacceptable. I insist we move to a noncharity suite.”
Carlie blinked. As the activities director, room rates weren’t a subject she’d ever discussed with guests.
“It isn’t charity,” she said in a low, firm voice. “Besides, what’s wrong with the John Muir Cottage? The Yosemite is the largest suite at Poppy Gold and one of the nicest. We don’t provide substandard accommodations to our military guests. My cousin and uncle simply want to do something for service people and families going through a difficult time.”
“Nevertheless, I want to be moved.”
Considering Luke’s belief that his money could buy everything, she shouldn’t be shocked by his reaction. “I doubt anything is available. We have a long waiting list during the holidays. But you could speak to the front desk.”
“I’ll do that. Nicole, will you stay with the girls?”
His sister nodded and Carlie shrugged as he marched toward Old City Hall. The guy was impossible, but that didn’t change the fact that his wife had died a hero and his daughters were adorable.
The front desk wouldn’t have an easy time with him. They’d probably end up calling Tessa to ask about the emergency reserve rooms, but it would be more of a courtesy than anything. The Yosemite suite was the only suite with three or more bedrooms.
As a result, Luke might even decide to leave Poppy Gold, which would be a shame since Annie and Beth seemed to be opening up.
* * *
“I’M SO SORRY,” Nicole apologized when Luke was out of earshot. It was almost amusing that Carlie didn’t seem awed by her brother’s wealth and good looks. Over the years, dozens of women had chased Luke and now he was dealing with one who apparently didn’t care much for him.
“That’s all right,” Carlie assured her. “I’m sure everything will get straightened out. Honestly, this is just Poppy Gold’s way of saying thank you to veterans and service members and their families. There’s no charity involved.”
“Aunt Nicole, what’s charity?” asked Beth.
“It’s something your papa has worked very hard to be sure we don’t need,” she said quickly. “Put your cups in the trash if you’re finished with them.”
“Okay.”
After tossing their hot-chocolate cups, her nieces went over to see the puppeteers, who were now doing impromptu performances for children and adults alike. They’d probably be occupied for a few minutes.
Nicole turned back to Carlie. “Be sure to tell Poppy Gold’s owners how much I appreciate them wanting to help my brother and the girls. The suite is absolutely lovely. Luke should have reacted better, but he’s proud and...well, nothing has been the same since Erika was killed.”
“You’ve all been through a lot.”
“I feel helpless sometimes,” Nicole confessed. “I don’t know how to help the girls or Luke. But I should know what to do. I’m his sister.”
“Some people—” Carlie’s phone chimed, interrupting her. She pulled it out and read something on the screen. “Oops, I have to go. Maybe we could get together sometime for coffee or lunch.”
“That would be great.”
Nicole was interested to see the activities director head the same direction Luke had gone, but hoped it didn’t mean anything.
* * *
LUKE TRIED TO restrain his impatience as the front desk staff called the manager and then explained that there weren’t any other suites available at Poppy Gold. They were polite, but they couldn’t understand how it galled him to think that he and his family were staying free of charge in a charitable outreach to military families.
He saw a movement from the corner of his eye; it was Carlie stepping through the double doors of the reception area.
“In that case, I want to be charged the full rate for our accommodations,” he insisted, “as well as for any special services we’ve received. I don’t see how anyone could have gotten the impression we’d anticipated staying for free. I don’t accept charity.”
“Carlie?” asked the young man at the desk.
“Do as Mr. Forrester asks. I’ll clear it with Tessa.”
“But we don’t have a regular rate schedule for the John Muir Cottage.”
“Ask Aunt Polly to work one up and send it to Tessa for approval. Is that satisfactory, Mr. Forrester?”
“I... Yes.”
“Then have a nice rest of the afternoon.” Carlie immediately turned and went through the ornate doors.
Luke cast one look at the registration desk employee and followed her. “Carlie, wait,” he said, catching up on the sidewalk.
She turned with a chilly expression. “Yes?”
“You’re upset.”
“What was your first clue?”
“Several things, including calling me Mr. Forrester. Speak your mind. I prefer it.”
“All right. Don’t ever call what Poppy Gold does at the John Muir Cottage charity. Of all people, you know the sacrifices our military and their families make. Is it inconceivable that somebody would want to acknowledge those sacrifices and say thank you?”
“Of course not, but—”
“No buts,” she interrupted furiously, her cheeks bright with indignation. “What if someone else staying there heard you call it charity? How do you think it would make them feel? They’re going through enough—the last thing they need is for someone to judge them for accepting a few days of rest and relaxation.”
An unaccustomed shame went through Luke. He hadn’t considered how anyone else might take his ill-chosen words.
He checked to see if other guests were within earshot. “Let me explain why I reacted that way.”
Carlie’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her stomach. “Okay, explain.”
“I, well, my parents are trust-fund kids. They’re nice people, but irresponsible. When I was growing up they spent their money wildly, doing whatever captured their fancy. So every year they’d run out of funds by September or October and expect friends to put us up until January. If there were children in the household, they’d taunt us as charity cases. They made life miserable for Nicole and me.”
“It isn’t necessarily how their parents felt.”
“They had to hear it from somewhere. Most of our hosts were friends of my parents from boarding school or college, so maybe they were amused by Mom and Dad. Nicole and I could have been the ones who weren’t welcome.”
“I understand how difficult it must have been,” Carlie said slowly. “But that was a long time ago. Everybody knows how successful you are today.”
“My gut reaction is still the same.”
She nodded, still looking troubled. “All right. Just don’t say anything else in front of our other guests. Poppy Gold doesn’t advertise its policy at the John Muir Cottage. We receive referrals from various commanding officers and make the arrangements that way. In your case, the referral would have been from General Pierson’s office. Other guests shouldn’t know anything about it.”
Luke released a harsh breath as he watched Carlie walk away, energy seeming to swirl around her. While he’d already noticed she was attractive, this time her appeal was striking a primal chord.
There was nothing indifferent about Carlie. She was passionate, vital and far more beautiful than he’d recognized at first. She reminded him of the desert after a spring thunderstorm, where everything has been dry and desolate, only to awaken with a roar after a dose of life-giving rain.
A wry smile curved Luke’s mouth—flash floods through an arroyo weren’t uncommon after a spring storm, either, and they could be lethal. Besides, he wasn’t a desert. He was a man who’d lost his wife.
But if nothing else, his response to her was proof that his body wasn’t dead. After Erika’s death he’d never expected to look at another woman that way again.