Holidays at Crescent Cove (12 page)

Chapter Five

N
ICK
P
RESCOTT WAS
taller than his brother, bigger-boned, more strong-willed, and carrying a deep pain. David had seen that look in men's eyes before. He just hoped he wasn't going to make that pain worse.

Do no harm,
he repeated to himself as he stepped forward to shake hands.

They exchanged names formally, like two businessmen at a board meeting.

David had already removed the letter from his pack and transferred it to his shirt pocket. He didn't want to have to fumble through what had to be an excruciating moment to the man who stood stoically in front of him. Not unfriendly, but preparing himself for whatever the letter contained.

He reached in his pocket and held out the folded envelope, hoping whatever it contained wouldn't prove too much for this man to take.

Nick took it. Looked at it. Glanced over to his wife, then turned around and left the room. Bri moved to Margaux's side. Margaux didn't attempt to go after her husband. Some things were best done alone.

Feeling like a harbinger of doom, David couldn't make himself move. He knew he should get his pack and walk away. But he had knowledge, stories, words that Nick Prescott didn't, and he felt the responsibility not to leave until he'd tried to make a terrible thing more understandable.

And then it would be over. He'd find a job somewhere. Working with his hands, but not anything where lives hung in the balance. Carpenter. Plumber. Mechanic. He'd learned a lot about a lot of things in the last decade. A handyman. A little of this and a little of that. The only blood, if spilled, would be his, from a cut finger, a scraped elbow.

He felt a tug at his leg. Lily shoved her scruffy bunny at him. He looked at her and she pushed it at him again. He took it. Knelt beside her and thanked her for sharing.

She reached up and squeezed his face in both hands.

His throat felt tight. “Bunny wabbit,” he said.

She squealed with delight and pulled him toward the Christmas tree where Connor and Mimi were playing a mysterious game with colored blocks. They made room for him and Lily, and they all played. As far as David could tell, nobody knew the rules and nobody cared.

B
RI STOOD AT
the window next to Margaux and watched Nick stop by the lifeguard stand where Ben had spent so many summers. She put her arm around Margaux, and Margaux linked hers around Bri's waist. They didn't look at each other. Bri was having a hard time holding in her tears and her anxiety, and she knew if she looked at Margaux they would both lose it.

Margaux never told her what Nick had said about Ben's death, but she'd been around them both long enough to know that Nick felt responsible for it, and that it weighed him down in spite of Margaux and Connor and their love for him.

Nick's head was bent and Bri knew he was reading. Then he looked up and out to sea.

Margaux started.

“Go,” Bri told her. “I'll watch the kids.”

Margaux headed to the hallway, and David came to stand beside Bri at the window. A minute later they saw Margaux shrugging into a jacket as she hurried across the beach.

She reached Nick and he looked up. They stood looking at each other for what seemed like an eternity to Bri. Then he took Margaux in his arms and held her.

Bri blinked furiously. “That means everything is okay, right?”

“I don't know. But I don't think we should be watching.” David nudged her away from the window.

“When are we going to eat?” Connor asked.

“Eat,” echoed Lily.

Mimi looked up, expectant, anxious.

“Now,” said Bri, forcing enthusiasm, then stood there unable to leave the window or take her eyes off the intimate, life-changing scene on the beach.

“Walk this way,” David said, and lumbered bearlike out of the room. Lily and Connor jumped up and lumbered after him. After a quick look at Bri, Mimi ran after them.

Margaux came back in while the kids were eating.

“Nick had to check in at the station. But he's taking the rest of the day off. David, he wondered if you could stay and talk to him for a while.”

“Is everything okay?” Bri asked, and held her breath waiting for Margaux's answer. David looked like a trapped man. And to all intents and purposes, he was.

“Well, yes. I think it is,” Margaux said. “Considering. Let's eat. I'm suddenly ravenous.”

Bri cleared the kids' meals away, while Margaux reset the table for three and made a plate for Nick that she put back in the oven. David stood off to the side, once again withdrawing from the situation. He was so strange, one minute playing with the kids, making breakfast, asking questions, the next, clammed up and retreating like maybe he wished he could disappear altogether.

She glanced over at him standing in the doorway, propped against the door frame. He should have looked relaxed now that he'd performed what he clearly saw as his duty, but he looked ready to bolt.
God, please don't let him be waiting to drop another bombshell.

By the time Nick returned two hours later, Bri and Margaux were cleaning up after an hour of letting the kids decorate store bought cookies. Nick took two beers out of the fridge and he and David sat down at the kitchen table.

Bri and Margaux took the kids out to the parlor to watch
Rudolph,
while Margaux plied Bri for information about David and his night in the barn. By the time they'd watched
Rudolph, Frosty the Snow Man, A Charlie Brown Christmas,
and were halfway through
The Grinch,
Bri's update was finished and Margaux and Bri had both begun casting surreptitious looks toward the hall door.

“What do you think they're talking about in there?” Bri said.

“I wish I knew. My guess is that David is telling Nick about knowing Ben?” Margaux grimaced. “I just hope he doesn't have any gory details. Nick doesn't need to deal with that, especially now when he's so busy.”

“Surely he wouldn't put anyone through that. You don't think he witnessed what happened, do you?”

“I don't know. I hope not.”

They turned back to the television.

They had just given in to pleas of
“Shrek, Shrek”
when Nick and David came into the living room. They both looked wrung out but calm, Nick, a man who had somehow been comforted and David as if he'd had a burden lifted.

David stepped toward Margaux. “I wanted to thank you for your hospitality.” He glanced at Bri and she knew what was coming next. “And for
your
barn and breakfast. You both have great families.”

It was an exit speech if Bri had ever heard one. And she wasn't ready for him to go. She cautioned herself to smile, say it was her pleasure and let him walk away. Hell, just this morning she couldn't wait to get rid of him. But now . . . she'd known him less than twenty-four hours and yet somehow he'd carved out a place for himself in their extended family.

She stood just as he said, “But I have to get going. Nick was kind enough to offer me a ride to the highway.”

Margaux and Bri both zeroed in on Nick, who shrugged slightly.

“You don't have to go,” Connor said. “We're going to build a snowman and have hot chocolate with marshmallows.”

Sensing something was happening, Mimi and Lily stood up and ran to Bri, burrowing into her legs and looking up at her for answers. “It's okay,” she said. “David has to go away.” Bri looked to David to translate.

He did, then smiled at the girls, nodded to the room, leaving them as frozen as if he'd cast a spell.

Margaux broke it. “Are you hitching? Wouldn't it better to wait until tomorrow and get an earlier start? It will be dark soon.”

Bri came to life. “And you might not find a barn as deluxe as mine.”

David smiled. “I know for sure I won't find a roommate like Hermione.”

“We can give you a bed for the night,” said Margaux. “It's the least we can do, right, Nick?”

“Of course,” Nick said, but he didn't seem too enthusiastic.

Was Nick anxious to get rid of him? What had passed between the two men during the last hour?

“Thanks, but—”

“And,” Bri said, “if you liked the barn, you should see my caretaker's cottage.”

“Does it even have heat?” Nick asked, and gave Bri a cautionary look. What wasn't he saying? Did he think David was not to be trusted?

“Yes, and electricity and running water. I've been using it as a workshop. Besides,” she continued, “I was kind of hoping you could help me buy a tree with the girls tomorrow. And explain to them about Christmas.”

I
T WAS TEMPTING.
He'd been alone for so long, he'd grown accustomed to it. Expected it. Craved it. Until now. But that had changed the minute Bri shoved that pitchfork at him. At his first sight of Lily and Mimi. At the spoken thanks and unspoken understanding from Nick Prescott. His wife's generosity. The decorated tree, the warmth and closeness of the group. They weren't even real family. Just a mash-up of stray ends. And yet they were everything David thought a family should be.

God, it was so tempting. And it was Christmas. He could help them buy a tree. Tell the girls about Santa Claus or whatever. Sit around the fireplace . . .

Then he thought about his last December. An epidemic swept over the village. The supplies were late, held up by warring factions. And all he could do was watch, first the children, then the old people die. He hadn't even thought about Christmas. He wanted to erase that memory. Maybe it was better to let Christmas become like all other days. Each the same as the next. Nothing to remember. Everything to forget. Burning the memory bridge.

He glanced at Nick. The man was no fool; he didn't trust David, and David didn't blame him. Only he knew himself well enough to know that he wouldn't run amok like some. He was here, wasn't he? He wouldn't lose it and hurt anyone. He'd burned out; disgusted with greed, corruption, the hatred, the uselessness, the inevitability of it all.

Afghanistan had just been the straw that had broken his back. He'd given up and come back to find Ben's brother.

Now that was done.

He realized that everyone had fallen silent and was watching him.

“Nick will tell you, Bri, that you shouldn't invite strangers into your home.”

She put her hand on her hip and shot him an ironic look. “Well it's a little late for that. And the cottage is a good two hundred feet away.” She turned to Nick. “I'll lock my door.”

In the end he agreed to take up short-term residence in the caretaker's cottage in exchange for helping with the tree and chopping some firewood and doing any other chores that she needed done.

When he finally said yes, Margaux and Bri looked satisfied. Nick looked at him like he'd lost his mind, but he didn't say a word against the plan.

So after a snowman and hot chocolate with marshmallows, he and Bri bundled Lily and Mimi back into their snowsuits and headed back to the farmhouse.

“Oh good, my plow guys have come,” Bri said as they pulled into a cleared drive. “I was afraid we were going to have to trek across the pasture.”

She drove past the house, which was lit up with welcoming light. And down a narrow car path to the caretaker's cottage. It was a smaller, one-story version of the main house, sitting at the end of the path on a blanket of snow. It was separated from the main house by a stand of now leafless trees.

David wondered what it looked like in summer and was sorry he wouldn't see it.

“We'll get you settled, then go make something for dinner.”

“You don't have to do that. Margaux stuffed me with food all day.”

Bri laughed. “The Sullivans have always fed everyone. In the summer's we practically lived at their house. Margaux's mom, Jude, makes the best homemade lemonade. In the summer there's nothing better.” She stopped. “Anyway, you won't get as good here, but you won't starve.”

David didn't argue, though he was exhausted, not just from today, not even from his travel across the country. He was just tired. So damn tired.

Bri stopped the car, looked in the backseat, where Mimi and Lily had fallen asleep before they'd gone two blocks. David took his pack and followed Bri the short distance across the snow to the front door. Bri pulled off her glove with her teeth and held it in her mouth while she jangled through a key ring to find the one that opened the door.

It was endearing, how she went from sophisticated woman to farm girl. She opened the door and reached inside for the light switch. The lights came on, outlining a square room with a sofa and scrubbed wood table.

The room was cold, but not as cold as the barn, for which David was grateful. Bri crossed to another door and fiddled with a thermostat. Baseboard heaters began to crackle and pop.

Serious living accommodations.

Bri bent over and touched the front of the nearest one with her palm. “Whew,” she said. “Now if the pipes haven't frozen . . .”

David dropped his pack at the door and followed her into a small kitchen with ancient appliances he had no intention of using. She turned on the sink. After a couple of bangs and a screech, water gushed out of the old spigot.

Bri turned a satisfied smile on him. “I had the cottage fitted out three summers ago. I stay here when the renovations in the house make staying there impossible.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

“Yeah. It seems like the more work you do, the more there is to do.” She turned off the water and went back into the main room. “You can sleep in here,” she said, and disappeared into another room.

It was a bedroom, and already the heat was warming the space.

I'll have to get linens and blankets from the house, but I'm assuming you can make your own bed.” She shot him a grin that made the room seem too hot.