Twilight at Blueberry Barrens (6 page)

K
ate swiped damp palms on her skirt under the table as she faced Drake. Lordy, but he was handsome. His dark curly hair just begged to have a woman run her fingers through it, and he had that solid muscular build she'd always found attractive. No studious, wiry type for her. She was drawn to strong good looks, and Drake had them in spades with his bulky arms and square jaw. Peeking at his left hand, she saw no faint tan line where a ring might have been either. But that didn't mean he didn't have a fiancée in the wings somewhere.

She blew out a breath and squared her shoulders. If she wanted this job, she had to corral her emotions and quit mooning over him. It was so unlike her, and she couldn't blame her straying thoughts on chemo brain. She eyed the two girls who were both engrossed in iPads.

Before she stopped to think, she reached over and plucked both tablets out of their hands. “It's bad manners to use those at the table, girls. Before you know it, you'll be adults, and you need to have at least some idea of how to carry on a conversation.”

Phoebe's eyes widened and her lower lip protruded. She looked up at her uncle with beseeching blue eyes. “I want to play
Angry Birds.
”

“And I want my book back.” Emma reached across the table.

Kate moved the iPads out of the way. “What grade are you in, Emma? Tell me about the book you're reading. I'm still a book nerd myself.”

Emma's frown eased, but she kept her gaze fixed on her tablet. “
A Wrinkle in Time.”

“Oh, that's my all-time favorite book! I've read it at least ten times. How far have you gotten?”

Emma picked up a linen napkin and began to pleat it. “They just got to the planet Camazotz. Meg's father is trapped there.” Her hazel eyes searched Kate's face. “It made me wonder if my mom and dad are there, too, instead of in heaven.”

Kate inhaled and shot her gaze to Drake. Their parents were dead? His dark-brown eyes were moist and filled with pain. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and searched for a way to answer the little girl. How well she remembered the feeling of abandonment caused by her own father's neglect. Emma's father was dead, but that didn't change the little girl's sense of betrayal. Mommies and daddies weren't supposed to leave their children for any reason. Could she even say Emma's parents were in heaven? Kate had no idea of their spiritual state, and she didn't want to misstep.

Drake pulled his niece into a one-armed embrace. “Emma, honey, we talked about heaven, remember? You'll see your mom and dad again someday.”

Tears pooled in Emma's eyes, and she jerked away from her uncle. “I want to see them
now
.”

Kate mouthed
I'm sorry.

Drake's jaw hardened and he shrugged. “So, you must be a strict disciplinarian.”

His tone told her what he thought of that type of behavior, but she tipped her chin up and met the skepticism in his gaze. “Kids need both love and structure. Give one without the other and they have no guidelines to go by. When they are grown and out in the world, it's like turning a five-year-old loose in a car on a four-lane highway without ever having handled a steering wheel.”

Something shifted in his eyes and he sat up straighter. “I hadn't thought of it that way.” He stared down at Emma's bent head, then across the table to Phoebe, who was beside Kate. “My aunt thinks highly of you.”

“Who's your aunt?”

“Dixie Carver. She runs the post office.”

“I adore her! Everyone here knows and loves her. I didn't realize you had family here. Why aren't you staying with her instead of looking for a place to rent?” Wait, why had she said that? Maybe he'd change his mind, and she really wanted him to take her cottage.

“Her house isn't big enough, and I was afraid the girls would wear her out.”

Kate saw his point. Dixie worked a full-time job and she wasn't young anymore.

He took a sip of his coffee. “I called your pastor. He had nothing but great things to say about you. What didn't he tell me about you? What are some of your bad habits?”

She blinked and grinned. “I have a quick tongue, and I generally speak before I censor myself. You'll never have to wonder what I really think about anything. I have no patience for whining, and if a kid tells me she's bored, it's a good way to be given a cleaning job. I'm a bit of a health nut, and I'm apt to dose you with essential oils if I notice a sniffle.”

“My aunt said you had been sick. Are you sure you're up to watching two energetic girls?”

Her chest squeezed. There was always gossip in a small town, but she was beginning to think people might continue to talk about her illness forever. “I'm fine now. Most of the time a stem-cell transplant is an actual cure for aplastic anemia. If I can keep up with fifty kids in junior church, I can keep up with two little girls.”

His gaze lingered on her face. “You look the picture of health. How are you in the mornings? Grumpy or cheerful?”

“Disgustingly cheerful.”

“I'll make sure I down two cups of coffee before you show up then. I don't like to talk until I've got some caffeine in me.”

She chuckled and picked up her fork. “Does that mean I'm hired?”

“I'm going to think about it overnight. I'll call you in the morning.”

“I'll be waiting by the phone. I like the girls, and I'd love to spend the rest of the summer with them.” Judging by the way her pulse skipped when her gaze met his, she wasn't sure how wise it was to be around their uncle every day. The last thing she wanted was to risk her heart on someone who would pick up and leave at the end of the summer.

* * *

Claire patted the ground around the rosebush she'd just planted and stood. “This will give us some nice color in a few weeks, and it's probably all we can do today. It's getting too dark to see.”

The beautiful old house in the woods seemed to preen in the
sunset with its newfound glory. The renovation was complete with new siding, roof, and windows as well as a complete gut and remodel inside. This time next week their wedding guests would gather here for a garden wedding before going to the Hotel Tourmaline for the reception.

Luke's jeans were muddy, and he had a dirt smear on his cheek. “By the time we see buds, I'll be living here too. Finally.” His slow smile built to a grin as he wiped away a smudge on her chin. “And I'm never letting you go.”

She leaned into his embrace and rested her head on his chest. The reassuring thump of his heartbeat under her ear eased the tension out of her. This was where she belonged. How blessed she was to have found Luke. One more week and they'd be married.

His hand stroked the length of her hair, then settled at her waist. “It can't come too soon for me. By this time next year we could have a baby.”

She lifted her head and searched his expression. “You're sure you want to try for a baby this fast? I thought you might just be a little jealous of our time.” She wanted to give him an option to back out of having a baby right off the bat, though she desperately wanted one herself.

“I've always wanted a big family. You do, too, right?”

She nodded. “And I'm thirty-one. If we want more than one child, we need to get started.” She stilled and looked away. Poor Kate would never be able to have a baby. How would she feel when Claire got pregnant? Would it make things strange between them? She'd spent too much time in her life away from Kate to want anything to come between them now.

Luke turned as tires crunched on gravel. “Kate's here.” His hands dropped away from Claire as they turned to greet her.

The little yellow Bug had mud on its tires and fenders. The recent rain had left the drive like a bog. Claire advanced to hug her sister, but her welcoming smile froze when she saw Kate's frown. “What's wrong?”

Kate slammed the car door and strode toward her. She wore a cute denim skirt that showed off her legs and a formfitting blue sweater. Her short, curly hairstyle suited her heart-shaped face, so like Claire's. “I think I blew the interview. You know how I hate for kids to be disrespectful?”

Claire nodded. “I do too.”

“The girls were playing with their iPads at the dinner table, and I took them away without thinking.”

“You didn't! They aren't in your charge yet.” Claire took her twin's arm and guided her up the brick walk to the rocking chairs on the newly built porch. “What did Drake say?” She shot a warning glance at Luke, and he nodded before picking up the yard tools to put them away in the shed behind the house.

“Not much, but I could tell he didn't like it.” Kate sank onto the chair and doubled over with a moan. “And I was so close. He said he wanted to think about it overnight, but I bet he doesn't call in the morning.”

Claire flipped on the porch light, then sat beside her in the other rocker. “Maybe it's not as bad as you think. How did the girls react?”

Kate sat up and exhaled. “Like you'd expect. They whined about it. At least he didn't make me give the tablets back. We ate dinner, and he hardly asked me any questions other than what were my worst traits that the pastor wouldn't tell him.” She let out a chuckle. “I told him I don't like whining and I speak my mind. I bet that sealed my fate.” A grin spread over her face.
“Guess I proved what I was saying. And I'm crossing into whining territory myself, so I deserve to be given a job I hate, like planting roses.”

Kate's smile faded. “And the worst faux pas was that I got Emma to talking about her book and she wondered if her parents were in Camazotz and not in heaven. I just thought Drake was a good uncle taking them while they were on a trip or something. I obviously upset them.”

It didn't sound good, but Kate was such a crusader. She wanted to help everyone she saw, and she often rushed in without thinking through the consequences. But now wasn't the time to harangue her. “I could go see him. Maybe try to smooth it over. Or we could get the pastor to call him.”

Kate shook her head. “It won't do any good. Let's talk about something else other than my lacking social skills. The house looks great. Everything ready for next weekend?”

“Everything.” Claire ticked the items off on her fingers. “My RSVPs are back, the reception is planned and ready, the house is done, the hotel reservations for guests are made, and my dress has been tailored to fit. Luke won't tell me where we're going on our honeymoon, but he told me to pack a bathing suit and not much else. I'm hoping for Hawaii.”

Amusement lit Kate's eyes. “I'm not telling.”

“You know? You little traitor. Come on, tell me where we're going.”

“Only if you take me with you.”

“Not a chance.” Claire smiled at her sister. “Isn't this the best thing ever? I mean, you and me together after all these years, and it's like we were never apart. I can talk to you about anything.”

The smile on Kate's face stumbled and fell. “It's the glue
that keeps me together.” Her gaze searched Claire's. “Will you still have time for me after you're married?” She bit her lip and looked away as scarlet swept up her face.

Claire took her sister's hand. “Nothing will change, Kate. You'll just have a brother as well as a sister. Luke loves you. He'd never come between us. You have to know that.”

“Why does everything have to change? Everyone I love is in jail except for you. I know that sounds needy, but I'm scared you'll leave me too. What if Luke gets transferred to somewhere else and you have to move?”

A brief spasm of panic tightened Claire's chest. There was no guarantee Luke would stay at this post, and she'd go wherever he went. She forced a smile and squeezed Kate's fingers. “Nothing can come between us ever again. Please trust my promise. I won't let you go again. Never.”

Before Kate could answer, something zipped by Claire's cheek, and her hair fluttered in its wake. Something thunked the wall behind her, and she turned around to see a crossbow bolt sticking into the brand-new clapboard siding.

Something trickled down her cheek, and she touched it, then looked at her fingertips. “I'm bleeding,” she whispered.

“Into the house!” Kate grabbed her arm and hoisted her out of the chair and through the door. “Luke, there's an intruder!”

I
n the sleek new kitchen Kate dabbed a wet paper towel on Claire's cheek. “Thank the Lord it's superficial. I don't even think it will leave a scar. Hold that against the cut.”

While Claire pressed the towel against her cheek, Kate peered out the window into the dusk-shrouded backyard. Luke, gun out and at the ready, crept around the edge of the house. In his other hand he held his cell phone to his ear, and she exhaled. He must be calling for help.

She looked out over the new back deck, elegantly furnished in blue and white. As Claire had said, everything was ready for the wedding, but would it even be safe to hold it out in the open? Kate had a sinking feeling she might know who had shot that arrow.

Claire tossed the paper towel into the cabinet trash can. “It's stopped bleeding. You think it was an accident?” Her face was a little pale, and the mark on her cheek looked like a faint scratch now.

Kate turned and raised a brow. “Only an idiot would aim a bolt toward a house.”

“Maybe it was a kid with his first crossbow, and he lost control.”

It made for a nice explanation, but still staring at the line
of trees behind the house, Kate shook her head. “I think it was Uncle Paul.”

Claire's eyes widened, and she took a step back. “Why would you say that?”

“His favorite weapon is a crossbow. It's how he has taken down every deer and moose he's brought home to the freezer.” Kate shivered and hugged herself. “The thing is, if he wanted to hit you, he would have. So what's his game? Is he just trying to terrify you to get back at you for him being sent to prison?”

“Maybe he stumbled and missed. Or was startled.” Claire grabbed the cherry-red teakettle and filled it with water, then put it on the induction cooktop. “I need some tea. Want some?”

“Sure. I'll try to get my breathing back in order.” The back of her neck still prickled, and Kate rubbed it.

The back door opened, and Luke stepped inside, bringing the fresh scent of the outdoors with him. “Whoever it was, he's gone now.” His gaze went to Claire, and he winced when she turned enough to show the mark on her cheek. “Let me see.” He stepped closer and moved her into the wash of light from the ceiling globe. “I don't think it needs stitches.” He brushed a kiss on top of her head. “Does it hurt?”

She shook her head. “I'm fine. Did you call the sheriff?”

He nodded. “Kevin is closer though, and he's on his way.” He glanced at Kate. “I saw where the guy was standing. The grass is matted down across the road in a stand of ash trees. It looks like he hiked in. I didn't hear any motor vehicles.”

“She thinks it was Paul.” The teakettle shrieked, and Claire moved to lift it from the heat.

Luke stared at Kate and took a notepad from his pocket. “You think Paul got out and came here for revenge?”

“I don't know what his plan is, but remember Daryl in
The Walking Dead
? That's my Uncle Paul. He's deadly with that crossbow, and he knows these woods better than most people know their bedrooms.”

“But you don't know it's Paul,” Luke said. She stared back at him and said nothing until he shrugged. “Okay, I get it. You know him better than I do, and you're sure. But Kevin will be here shortly and we have no proof.”

“He hung out at this old house a lot when he was hunting. You found that mattress on the floor in the downstairs bedroom, remember? He probably didn't know you'd taken it over since he's been in prison. It might have ticked him off when he saw Claire on the porch and realized the house was hers.” Kate accepted the hot mug of tea Claire handed her. “I don't know what he was thinking. I need to find him. He'll talk to me.”

At least she thought he would. They'd always been close. He'd been the only real father figure she had, and he'd taken her fishing and hunting more times than she could count. He'd comforted her when her mother was too harsh and remote, which was most of the time. She was certain of his love even though his actions had shaken her faith in all she thought she knew about family.

Surely there was some good left in her uncle. He could have killed Claire today, and he didn't.

Claire pulled out a chair at the chunky farm table. “How can you track him down?”

“I know his haunts. And maybe he'll call me or come by the cottage.”

“Won't he be afraid the law has your place staked out?” Luke asked.

Kate pulled out a chair beside Claire and sat. The thought of seeing Paul hauled off to jail again tightened her throat. And what if someone shot him right in front of her? He was still her uncle, part of her. She didn't want him hurt. “I'll have to see if I can find him.”

But where? Wait, he'd had a new girlfriend. What was her name? It didn't come to her right now, but it would. Maybe he'd gone there.

* * *

The distant roar of the waves expending themselves on the rocky shore added to Drake's turmoil as he watched the girls throw bread to the gulls. The birds fought viciously for their crumbs and pecked at any other gull that dared to try to snag a piece of their treasure. The girls laughed at the birds, then tossed them more bread to fight over.

“Kind of like people, aren't they?” The wind tugged at Dixie's hair bun and had put a hint of pink in her weathered cheeks. She was barefoot on the cold sand, and her legs beneath the rolled-up denim overalls looked cold and chapped.

He frowned down at his aunt. “I'm not tracking with you.”

“Everyone's natural inclination is to get all they can and can all they get. They never think about other people until they're taught about compassion and caring.”

“You think I should hire Kate Mason, don't you? But she grabbed those iPads right out of the girls' hands. I thought that was a little bold. They've been through a lot.” He'd tossed and
turned a lot last night and awakened with the decision to find someone sweeter and gentler.

She shrugged and tugged her camo jacket a little tighter around her shoulders. “That's life. And if we give them a pass for every bump in the road, they'll turn out just like so many self-absorbed teenagers you see every day. You want that for them?”

“I don't call losing both parents a ‘bump in the road.' ” Not many kids had to face that kind of heartbreak. He wanted to see Phoebe sleep without a lamp on again. He'd give up every cent in his hefty bank account to hear Emma laugh again.

His throat tightened, and he looked out to sea where a large yacht scooted past the rocks. Heath had loved sailing. They'd spent many happy hours on their family boat when they were growing up.

Sometimes the pain of his brother's loss was too much to bear. He had to find out what happened or he'd never have peace.

His aunt touched his arm. “I'm not saying it wasn't a tragic, horrible event, Drake. But if you're not careful, you'll ruin those girls. Do you think Heath would have wanted that?”

He shook his head. “He was always strict with them and insisted on good manners. He started taking them to soup kitchens as soon as they were born, and every Christmas they took loads of presents to homeless people in Boston.”

“Then don't mess up now, kiddo. Take a firmer hand with them. It doesn't mean you don't love them. In fact, it means you love them enough to train them for living a productive life.”

He studied her rugged face. She'd always been a no-nonsense sort of woman, and she made a lot of sense now. “Maybe you're right. I'm just not sure about Kate.”

She wagged a finger at him. “That girl's had a tornado of events in her life, and she's emerged still kicking. You want a strong mother figure for them, someone whose strength the girls can emulate.”

He held up a hand. “Whoa, mother figure? No nanny will take Melissa's place.”

“Of course not. I should have said role model. That suit you better?”

“It's just for six weeks. I hardly think Kate or anyone else would have that big of an impact in such a short time.”

“You'd be surprised.” Her voice was soft, and she turned to look out at the water.

He counted back to how many days in total he'd been around his aunt and realized it wasn't a whole lot more than that. He and Heath had come here for a week every summer starting when they were ten and until they were eighteen, and then a weekend here and there after they'd grown up. Maybe a total of sixty-six or seventy days. It wasn't much more than the forty-five or so days a nanny would be with the girls. The impact Dixie had on him had been profound.

He studied the topknot on her head and the sag of her shoulders. She'd been widowed when she was twenty-five and never had children, but that was about all he knew. “Why didn't you ever remarry?”

When she turned around to face him, a tiny smile lifted her lips. “I'm a slow bloomer, but I'm working on it. Walker Rocco didn't work out, but there are still fish in the sea.”

“You're seeing someone
now
?”

“Drake Newham, I might be old, but I'm not dead.” Her
penciled-in brows were drawn together, and she folded her arms across her ample bosom.

He knew from her steely tone that his aunt wasn't about to give him any more personal information. “All right, I'll hire her. But if it ends up poorly, it's all your fault.”

Her grin up at him held a triumphal gleam. “I think my shoulders can bear the burden.”

“I love you, Aunt Dixie.” Slinging his arm around her, he motioned for the girls with his free arm. “Dinnertime.”

Seeing Kate's pretty face every day wouldn't be a trial, but he wasn't sure it was enough to compensate for her take-no-prisoners approach with his nieces.