A Family Come True (27 page)

Her gaze followed Cady, doing her best to shove the phone into her mouth. “In some ways, no. That was so out of the blue, but in other ways... Oh, Ian. Now she’s real, my whole world, and all I can think is that with him around all the time...”

“He’s not like those guys your mother hung out with. And you’re not your mom.”

“No.” Her voice was bitter. “I’m just the idiot who got drunk and messed up my baby’s whole life.”

It hit him then what he had to do—what only he could do to help her.

“I know him, Darce. And I promise you, he’s going to be a good father.”

“How—” she began, but he placed one gentle finger over her lips.

“I know you’re scared,” he said, slow and low, the way he would speak to a terrified child. “But just listen. Let me tell you about Xander, okay?”

He dug through his memory and pulled up every story he could remember. About walking into the dorm that first day, alternating between excitement and frickin’ terror at all that lay ahead, and being greeted by his new roomie, who had seemed to have made friends with half the floor in the space of an hour. About the way Xander had plunged headfirst into university life, joining groups and signing up to tutor kids. About Xander’s many exploits, yes, but about how he treated each new girl as if she were the most amazing thing to ever happen in his life. About how all his exes seemed to stay friends with him. About the night when Ian got the news that Grandpa Gord had dropped dead in the middle of the diner, when Xander had quietly and efficiently made arrangements for Ian to get home.

“That guy is still inside him, Darce. I know he went off track, but I promise, he’s not that same guy who messed up. From the minute he found out about Cady, he’s been... He’s who he used to be. You don’t know, but I do, and I swear on everything I hold sacred, he wants to do right by her. He’s head over heels and I think— No, I know. I
know
he’s going to be a good father.”

“But the other day, when we found out he was coming here, you said you thought he was seeing her as his way out. That he was more interested in what she could do for him than—”

“Yeah, I said that. At the time, I believed it.” He ran a hand over her hair, brushed a kiss on her cheek. “I don’t anymore.”

She hiccuped. “Promise?”

How could one little word, barely audible, carry so much hope and fear and desperation?

“I promise.”

She met his gaze then, searching his face. Hunting for any sign that he was simply saying things to make her feel better? He couldn’t tell. But after a moment she nodded and curled against him.

He pulled her close and rocked her, kissing her hair, wishing to God he could make the promise he wanted to make most—that he would always be there to help her through.

Except the more he heard, the more he feared that his presence—not Xander’s—was what would complicate her life the most.

* * *

S
OMEHOW THEY MADE
it through dinner.

Ian pulled up a smile for his parents’ sake. Not that he fooled Ma. He doubted that even Darcy’s mom could pull off an act that would get past Janice North when her radar was turned on. But she was focused on the party, chattering about the plans all through the night, interrupting herself to add things to her lists or place a quick phone call. She sent him and Darcy enough assessing looks that he started to wonder if she was related to Moxie by blood and not just marriage, but he could almost see her tell herself to let it go for the moment.

Dad was as oblivious as always, teasing Cady with a spoon and talking to Xander about making beer, of all things. And just when Ian had begun to have bad thoughts about the Almighty, God came through and sent Moxie to a card party at the Legion.

He and Darcy sat side by side, mostly quiet, mostly in their own worlds. Except every once in a while one of them would reach for the other’s hand beneath the table and squeeze.

He wasn’t sure if her touch made things better or worse. After a while he stopped questioning and decided simply to be grateful.

His litany of Xander’s good points seemed to have helped her. She let Xander take over more of the dinner duties. When it came time to clear the table, she suggested that Xander take Cady outside for a walk around the garden. Xander was so busy racing to comply he probably didn’t see the way Darcy bit her lip as he lifted Cady from the high chair, the way she turned sharply away when the two of them walked out the door.

This time, when Ian reached for her hand, it took a long time for her to let go.

Dishes. Bath. Songs and a bottle in the rocking chair, a few minutes assuring Ma that the weather forecasters knew what they were saying, that Moxie’s dire mutterings about aching knees didn’t guarantee weekend rain. Familiar routines that both grounded him, yet felt oddly surreal, probably because he was only halfway present. Even as he talked and teased and reassured, he was increasingly aware of a thread running beneath his thoughts like the steady beat of a drum, slowly getting louder, finally breaking through and claiming him when he took Lulu outside for a last walk before bed. He stood in the darkness of the backyard and let it roll over him.

The best thing he could do—for Darcy, for Cady, for everyone—would be to take himself out of that picture.

Not immediately, of course. He had to give notice, had to pack up and move and figure out a place to live here. More than that, he wanted to be there for Darcy during the first weeks of having Xander as a semi-regular presence in her life.

But once they got back to Stratford—once the party was over and Xander had been told the truth—they would have to go back to the way they were. Friends. Amazing friends, but no more.

Lulu ran up to him and let out a short,
what’s up?
bark. He scratched behind her ear, sending her into a wiggling frenzy.

“You see the lights, girl?”

As the darkness grew deeper, more and more lights appeared. Watercraft out on the river. Stars overhead. And fireflies winking out from between tall leaves of the hostas and irises.

You know, North, Mother Nature might be trying to give you a message. Lights that you can’t see until dark and all that jazz.

Right. And according to Moxie, late at night, you could still hear music playing from the dance halls of the Lost Villages.

He scooped a stick from the ground, held it out for Lulu to bite. Time for a little tug-of-war.

“Here we go, girl. Here we go. Come and get it. Yeah, you think you’re so strong, huh? Huh? Yeah, well, you’re not the only one.”

Because even though he knew he should talk to Darcy right now, he wasn’t fool enough to think he could do it. Once they got back to Stratford he would do the decent thing. But not while they were in Comeback Cove. For as long as they were here, they could keep pretending.

“But tell me this, girl. Is it really pretending when I already love her?”

* * *

T
HERE HAD BEEN
very few nights in Darcy’s life that she’d wished would never end. When she opened her eyes Saturday morning, it hit her: if ever she could have chosen her own personal Groundhog Day, she would have picked last night.

Not because of the sex, as raw and needy as it had been. Not because of the moments after when Ian had pulled her close and stroked her arm and told her, without a single word, that he knew what she was feeling.

But because somewhere, in the sharing and the holding and the understanding, she had found new hope.

Yes, Xander was going to be in Stratford, but she could still make this work. How many years had she spent protecting Sylvie? If anyone knew controlled access, it was Darcy.

So Xander would be in town. Okay. She could do this. Regular visits. A gradual transition to Cady going to his place, once he got one, and assuming it was child-safe, though he did seem to be very good about that. A routine. A schedule, clear guidelines, open communication.

And Ian to tell her that she was doing the right thing.

True, he wouldn’t be around as much as she wished. But there was a highway and phones, text messages and Skype calls and emails. This wasn’t
Little House on the Prairie
. She would never need to go more than a few hours without a word, a joke, a reminder.

She could make this work.
They
could make this work. Tonight she would tell him that he was right, that she could find a way to ease Xander into Cady’s life so he could become part of a routine, not a disruption.

And then she would kiss Ian slowly and steadily and tell him that she loved him.

* * *

E
VEN AN EXTRA-LONG
run by the river wasn’t enough to wipe out the
over-over-over
chant pulsing through Ian’s brain. Dripping and defeated, he let Lulu lead him across the yard and to the house.

One step at a time. Just like when things fell apart with Taylor. Just like when he found out the truth about Carter. One step at a time. Go upstairs. Shower. Get dressed. Come down and smile and don’t let anyone figure out that pretty soon you’re going to walk away from your own personal sun.

Lulu circled back and gave him a
get moving
bark. He dredged up a laugh for her.

“Thanks, girl. You want to come with me this morning, help load those picnic tables onto Hank’s truck? I might need you to keep me on track.”

Especially as Carter would be there. But Hank and Cash would be there, too—to lend muscle, Ma had said when she’d roped him into it—so surely this first brothers-only task would be survivable.

He dragged himself past the sunporch only to be stopped by a high-pitched squeal.

“Eee!”

Cady stood on Xander’s lap, holding his hands and bouncing to her own unheard music.

“Morning!” Xander called over the shrieks, then turned back to Cady.

“You want Daddy to do the horse thing for you again. Don’t you, pretty girl?”

Cady spotted the dog. “Ru! Ru!”

“Where’s Darcy?”

“Upstairs. She asked me to look after Cady while she got dressed.”

So they had a few minutes. This might be his best chance today to grab some time alone with Xander and propose the idea that had come to him as he’d run—an idea that both made perfect sense and made him wish he could yank his heart from his chest and lock it in a freezer so he wouldn’t have to feel it break.

He dropped to the ottoman and sat on his hands to keep them from reaching for Cady. “Listen, Xander. You’ve probably figured out from the talk around here that I’m moving back to Comeback Cove.”

“I heard things, yeah.” Xander shot him a fast glance. “I didn’t want to ask.”

“Yeah, well, it’s happening.”

“So you and Darcy—”

God, get him through this. “We’re still working out the details.” At the swift panic in Xander’s eyes, he rushed to add, “Look, this all happened before you came back, and everything’s been so crazy since you showed up. Not your fault, just the nature of the beast. But, anyway, don’t worry. Cady isn’t going to leave Stratford the minute you get settled.”

“That’s good to hear. Not that it’s all about me,” he added with a laugh.

“Anyway, I was thinking.” Ian said it fast, before he could change his mind. “With your plans getting rearranged and everything, you probably don’t have a place to stay yet. So maybe you might want to talk to Darcy.” He swallowed hard. “About renting the garage apartment.”

“Your place?” Xander tore his eyes away from the bouncing baby long enough for Ian to see the surprise.

“Well, it’s not like I’ve really been using it for a while now.” And why the hell hadn’t he figured that out earlier? “It would make a ton of sense. For you and for Cady. Probably the closest you all could come to that white picket fence thing.”

Because even if Xander didn’t need that, even if Cady didn’t—Darcy did.

* * *

C
LEAN, DRESSED AND
as ready as she ever would be, Darcy set out to help with desserts. For the sake of everyone who would end up eating the food she was about to prepare, she hoped the recipes were written down in very clear language.

“Good morning!” Brynn all but sang the words as Darcy entered the kitchen. Taylor paused in the midst of setting out measuring cups, spoons and pans to offer a wan smile.

“Hi, Darcy.” Taylor seemed a little more reserved than she had the other day. Given the paleness of her face, she might simply be having a particularly bad day of wrestling morning sickness.

Or it could be that her stomach, like Darcy’s, was fluttering over the fact that—thanks to their plotting—Carter and Ian were about to find themselves alone together.

Brynn, who was in on the plan, pushed a bowl of pistachios toward Darcy. “Here. Put some of that nervous energy to work and shell these. We need them for the biscotti, and the store didn’t have any of the naked ones.”

“You sure you don’t need me to cream something by hand, or punch some bread dough?” Darcy picked up a nut and squeezed. “It seems a shame to waste all this angst.”

“You guys are wusses,” Brynn said. “You’re doing the right thing. Ian and Carter will be a little ticked off when they figure out they were hoodwinked, but they’re smart enough to know this is for their own good.”

“I hope so,” Taylor said with a sigh. “I know Carter will be. Darcy, don’t take this the wrong way, but he’s been on edge ever since you guys arrived. I think he’ll be glad to have this out in the open.”

Darcy wasn’t so sure that Ian would be as grateful. But there was nothing to be done about it now. He was already on his way to Hank’s.

A pointed piece of shell poked her finger.

“How did you guys convince Hank and Cash to go along with this?” she asked.

Taylor’s grin was a little bit more believable this time. “I called Cash and played the pregnant card.”

“Shameless,” Brynn said. “And clever.”

“Oh, yeah? How did you convince Hank to play along?”

Brynn’s blush was all the answer Darcy needed.

“Okay. We have to talk about something else or I’m going to freak out. So...how were you guys able to do this—” she gestured toward the bags and canisters “—without Moxie insisting on being part of the production?”