Hunter's Bride and A Mother's Wish (4 page)

“I think he's having a good time.” She couldn't actually bring herself to say she was glad Gran had gotten her into this fix. In fact, the truth pressed against her lips, wanting to burst out. If she told Gran all of it, Gran would understand, wouldn't she? Or would she look at Chloe with disbelief that her granddaughter had behaved this way?

Gran held Chloe's hand, her gaze fixed on Luke, too. “Maybe one of my grandchildren will finally find a lasting love. I'd started thinking the dolphin ruined that for all of you.”

Chloe blinked. “What are you talking about?”

A faint flush mounted Gran's cheeks. “'Spose you'll think it nonsense.”

“You know I'd never think that. But what do you mean? What dolphin?”

“Chloe's dolphin, child. What else?” Gran's eyes brightened with tears. “That dolphin carving disappeared from the church, and no Caldwell has been married under it since. It's not right.”

“Gran, you're not superstitious, are you?” She'd known Gran mourned the loss of the dolphin that was part of the family heritage, but hadn't imagined it meant more than that to her. “You don't really believe that old story!”

Gran looked at her sternly. “Chloe Elizabeth, there are more true things in stories than you can explain. I'm not saying folks can't have happy marriages even though the dolphin's not there anymore. Look at your daddy and momma—they're as much in love as ever. But it seems to me God's plan got messed up when that dolphin disappeared, and we need to see him back where he belongs.”

Gran had always had a strong streak of the romantic in her, but Chloe hadn't expected this. She didn't know what to say.

“Don't worry about it, Gran. We'll all find the right someone to love, eventually.” It was the most comforting thing she could think of, though none of the grandchildren had managed a happy ending yet.

“It's not just that.” The lines in Gran's face deepened as she looked from Chloe's father, on one side of the room, to his brother, as far away as he could get and still be in the same room.

The breach between her daddy and Uncle Jefferson had existed long before Chloe was born, an established fact all her life. Everybody on the island knew that Uncle Jeff called Daddy a straitlaced prig and a failure, and that Daddy felt his brother's ambition had killed off his honor. They kept up a semblance of civility for Gran's sake, but their feud obviously still hurt her.

“I'm sorry,” she said softly.

“Not much we can do about them, I'm afraid. But as for you young ones—seems to me you've found someone to love, dolphin or no, haven't you.”

“I don't know. It's not…not really serious between us—not yet, anyway.”

Gran's wise old eyes studied Chloe. “Don't think you can fool me, Chloe Elizabeth.”

Her heart stopped. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I can see how well the two of you fit together. You care about him, don't you?”

She couldn't lie about it with Gran looking at her. “Maybe so. But that doesn't mean it's going to be a lifetime love or anything.”

Gran patted her hand. “You just keep in mind that verse I gave you on the day you were baptized. God has plans for you, plans to give you hope and a future. You trust in that, you hear?”

She blinked back tears, thinking of the needlepoint sampler Gran had made—the one that went everywhere with her. “I'll try.”

“Besides, now that Luke's here, maybe we can help things along.”

Panic ripped through her. “Don't you dare do any matchmaking. If things are meant to happen between us, they will.”

“No harm in helping it along. I want to see another Caldwell bride before I'm too old to enjoy it.”

“Gran—”

“Are you ladies having a private conversation, or can anyone join in?”

Chloe's breath caught at the sound of Luke's voice. She'd been so intent that she hadn't noticed him cross the room to them. She looked up, trying to smile, hoping Gran hadn't heard that betraying little gasp. Hoping even more that Luke hadn't heard it. There were no two ways about it—the sooner they got back to Chicago and their normal lives, the better for everyone.

“Always glad to have a good-looking man to talk to.” Gran fluttered her eyelashes at him outrageously. “Especially one that I haven't known since he was in diapers.”

“Gran,” Chloe murmured.
Just a few more hours, and we'll be on a plane. I'll forget this weekend ever happened.

Luke's baritone chuckle was like a feather, tickling her skin. “If you want someone to flirt with, Mrs. Caldwell, I'm your man.”

“Thought I told you to call me ‘Gran'. Everyone else does. How are you liking Caldwell Cove, now that you've been here a spell?”

“Beautiful,” he said promptly. “Now I know why Chloe is always talking about this place.” He put his arm around Chloe's waist, and she tried not to pull away. “It's the most peaceful spot I've seen in years.”

“Well, then, you ought to stay a bit longer.” Naturally Gran would pounce on that. “Spring's a perfect time for a vacation. Why don't you two stay on?”

Chloe waited confidently for Luke's excuses—they had to get back to the office, he had other plans, anything. They didn't come.

“You know, that might not be such a bad idea.” He squeezed Chloe. “What do you think, Chloe? How about if we take a few vacation days and stay for a while?”

If the rag rug at her feet had jumped up and bitten her, she couldn't have been more shocked. “Are you…?”
Crazy
was what she wanted to say, but she bit back the word. “I don't think you've thought this through. We have work waiting for us at the office.” She flashed him a look that should have singed, but he just smiled.

“Work will always wait.” He turned to her grandmother. “Don't you agree, Gran?”

Before Gran could answer, Chloe took a step away, her fingers biting into his arm. “Let's go out on the porch,
dear.
” She added the endearment through clenched teeth. “I need to talk with you.”

Fuming, she tugged him through the crowd, emerging at last onto the porch and a quiet corner. She swung to face him, anger overcoming the deference she usually felt toward him. “What on earth was that all about? Why did you let my grandmother think we might stay longer?”

“Because we're going to.” His smile was the one he wore when he crossed swords with a business opponent. “You should know I wouldn't kid about something like that.”

The porch floor rocked under her feet like the
Spyhop
in a storm. “I don't understand. We're leaving in a little over an hour. We have tickets for tonight.”

“We can change those easily enough.”

“Probably, but why should we?” Her head began to throb. “This charade was meant to last a brief weekend, remember?”

“Relax, Chloe.” He leaned against the porch railing, but his face was anything but relaxed. “I'm talking business, not romance.”

From the house she could hear the cheerful buzz of voices, of people having a good time and forgetting everything else in their celebration. But here, the sagging old porch had taken on the air of a corporate office.

“What do you mean? What business?”

His gaze seemed to grasp her. “Hotel business. I'm looking into siting the next Dalton Resort hotel here, on or near Caldwell Island.”

“Here?” She could only gape at him. “I don't understand.” Then she did, and it hit her like a blow. “That's why you wanted to come here with me, isn't it. You wanted to check it out.”

You didn't come to help me.
Disappointment filled her heart. She'd thought he had done this out of misguided kindness, out of that urge he had to direct everything, because he cared about her. He hadn't. He'd done it to advance his career.

He shrugged. “You needed to be bailed out with your family. I needed a good excuse for being here, so I could see if the area was suitable. It is. Now we have to stay until I can decide on a specific site and put the acquisition in motion.” His gaze sharpened. “What's the matter? I thought you'd be jumping with joy at the idea of bringing a little prosperity to the old hometown.”

“It means change,” she said slowly, trying to sort out her feelings.

“Of course, it means change. Jobs, for one thing. You're not going to tell me this area couldn't use a nice fat payroll.”

“I suppose it could.” No more lean times when the fish didn't run. No need for young people to leave home to make a living. He was right, she should be happy.

In the room behind them, someone, probably her father, had begun playing the fiddle. “Lorena,” one of her grandmother's favorites. The haunting air stirred misty echoes of a past that wasn't forgotten here. It was an odd counterpoint to the discussion they were having. “I'd like to tell my father about this.”

“Absolutely not.” His voice snapped, and her gaze jerked up to his.

He glanced beyond her, toward the door, then clasped her arm and drew her to the end of the porch. He stopped there, his back to the house, his arm around her. Anyone looking out would think they were seeing a romantic tryst.

“Sorry.” His voice lowered. “It's not that I don't trust your family, but you know what it will be like if word gets out as to why I'm here. Every landowner in three counties will be trying to con me into paying top dollar for a piece of worthless swamp. We can't risk it.”

His arm was warm and strong around her waist. That warmth crept through her, weakening her will to resist.
We,
he'd said. They were a team, like always. “But…you can't mean to continue this charade even longer.” She hoped she didn't sound as horrified as she felt.

“Why not?” He hugged her a little closer, and his breath touched her cheek. “We've been doing a good job so far. There's no reason for anyone to guess we're not involved.”

“I don't want to tell any more lies to my family.” She tried to pull free, but he held her firmly.

“You don't have to lie. We just let things go on the way they are.” His voice was low, persuasive. “Think about how happy they're going to be with the results, if everything goes the way I think it will. Good times come to Caldwell Island, everyone's happy, we go back to Chicago. In a month or so, you can tell your family we decided to date other people. It's going to be fine.”

No, it wasn't going to be fine, not at all. If she did this, she'd have to spend another week, maybe longer, pretending to be in love with Luke. At this precise moment, with the revelation of his motives still stinging, she didn't even like him very much. But she was getting entirely too used to the feel of his arm around her.

No matter how this worked out, one thing was crystal clear. Chloe Caldwell was in deeper trouble than she'd ever imagined.

L
uke shifted his weight restlessly, waiting for Chloe's response. He could feel her tension against his arm. It was as if everything in her resisted him. He wanted her cooperation—needed it, in fact. Didn't she understand that?

It was probably the first time he'd seen his competent assistant show anger toward him, and it startled and fascinated him. He'd always found Chloe a bit too controlled. Apparently when it came to her family, she could be passionate.

He bit back the urge to demand. He wasn't at corporate headquarters now. This was Chloe's turf, not his, and she was a different person here.

“Well, Chloe?” He tried to keep his voice gentle, as if he really wanted her input on the decision. It was tough to do, when the vice-presidency shimmered as close as the blossom from a trailing vine that brushed Chloe's hair and perfumed the air.

“I wish there were some other way of doing this.” Her face tilted toward his, troubled.

He tamped down annoyance. “There isn't. And this is your future, too. Wouldn't you like to be secretary to a vice-president? You'll move along with me. I can't do without my right arm.”

It was an argument that would have swayed him, but it didn't seem to have much effect on Chloe. If anything, the resistance strengthened in her.

“I don't like the idea of fooling my family.”

He bit back the reminder that she was the one who'd started it. “This isn't going to hurt them.”

“How can you say that? How would you feel if it were your family?”

Her question hit him right between the eyes.
My family, Chloe? What family? The father I never knew or the mother who walked away when I was six? Or maybe you mean the string of foster families who didn't want to keep me.

He took a breath, locking those questions behind the closed door in his mind. He didn't let them out because they made him think too much of where he'd been instead of where he was going. He wouldn't let Chloe and her old-fashioned family make him start remembering.

“If it were my family,” he said evenly, “I'd think about how much they'd benefit in the long run. They will, you know. There'll be more business for all of them once a resort hotel comes in. You know that as well as I do.”

She nodded slowly, her face still troubled. “I suppose I—”

“Hey, cousin.”

Chloe turned, her face lighting with pleasure. She pulled away from him to hug the man who approached, abandoning their conversation in an instant. “Matt. I haven't had a chance to talk with you yet. How are you?”

Luke leaned back against the porch rail, searching for patience, as Chloe and her cousin caught up with each other. This one was Matthew Caldwell—Chloe's grandmother had introduced them earlier.

Chloe turned back to him, her arm still around Matt's waist. There was no stiffness in her as she leaned against her cousin. Apparently her guardedness was only for Luke.

“I'm sorry, Luke, I'm forgetting my manners—” The turn of phrase was an echo of her family's speech. Chloe's cultivated urban tones were dropping away, and she probably didn't even realize it.

“You've met my cousin, Matt Caldwell, haven't you?”

Luke nodded. Matt had the strength and height that marked all the Caldwell men, but his dark eyes looked as if they'd seen too much, and there was a somber cut to his mouth when he wasn't actively smiling at Chloe.

“We already talked about Matt's reports from the Middle East. A tough spot to be in right now.”

Matt nodded. “And Gran's told me all about your new beau, Chloe Elizabeth.”

Most of it imaginary, unfortunately. The thought startled him. Unfortunate that he wasn't Chloe's beau? No, of course it wasn't. Chloe was the last woman in the world he'd become involved with, for more reasons than he could count.

“So how long are you staying home this time?” Chloe's tone was teasing. “Long enough to satisfy Gran?”

Matt shook his head. “I have to head back right away. And you should know nothing short of settling down in Caldwell Cove for life would satisfy Gran.”

“Good idea. Maybe if you were here, Gran would stop teasing me to come back. You could become the publisher of the
Caldwell Cove Gazette.
”

“You know, some day I might just do that. But not today.” Matt tugged gently at a lock of Chloe's hair. “How soon are the two of you leaving?”

Luke caught a sudden, almost anguished look from Chloe. Then she smiled, and he thought he must have imagined it.

“We're going to hang around for a while,” she said as easily as if they hadn't just been arguing about it. “Luke's decided to take some vacation time.”

“That'll make the family happy. Well, I'd better get back to the second cousins. I haven't given Phoebe a chance to interrogate me yet.” Matt held out his hand to Luke, hugged Chloe again and turned away.

The screen door banged behind Matt, and Chloe turned to Luke, straightening as if she faced something unpleasant.

“I guess that means we're staying.” He watched her, wondering what she was really thinking.

“I guess it does.” She shrugged. “I don't seem to have much choice, do I.”

“You always have a choice, Chloe. I think you've made the right one.” He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. His fingers touched her cheek, and the warmth and softness of her skin seemed to radiate up his arm.

He had a choice, too. If he were smart, he'd choose not to touch her again, not to take too much pleasure out of playing the role of her boyfriend. He suddenly realized the smart choice might be a difficult one to make where Chloe was concerned, and that surprised and disturbed him.

 

“Chloe, love, don't forget to water these in.” Chloe's mother put a flat of marigolds into the trunk of the car the next morning.

“I'll take care of it.” Chloe hovered, impatiently holding the trunk lid, ready to snap it down. She wanted to get moving before Luke came out and volunteered to go with her.

But Sallie Caldwell lingered, her strong, capable hands brushing the flowers and releasing their spicy aroma. “Have you talked to Theo since you've been home?”

The question caught Chloe off guard. “Well, of course I've talked…” She frowned. Theo had been elusive yesterday. “I guess not much. Why? Is something wrong?”

Her mother looked up, and the sunlight gilded her cheeks and brought out the warmth and welcome in her golden-brown eyes. Chloe felt a fervent hope that she'd be as lovely when she reached that age. Her mother never seemed to age, even after five children.

“I don't know.” She shook her head. “Theo's always been such an open child. All of a sudden he seems to be keeping secrets. Something's troubling the boy, and I don't know what.”

“Adolescence, maybe.” She remembered how she'd been at sixteen—full of dreams and impatient to get on with grown-up life.

“Maybe it is just that. But he might confide in you. Will you see what you can find out?”

“I'll try.”

Her mother's smile broke through. “Well, I know you'll give him good advice, whatever it is.” She touched Chloe's cheek lightly. “It's good to have you home.”

Her mother was talking to her like another adult, instead of a daughter. It felt odd but gratifying.

“I'll try to catch him alone and see what's up.” She shifted her hand on the trunk lid. “I probably ought to get going. Gran will be waiting.”

Nodding, her mother stepped away, and Chloe closed the trunk. She jingled the keys in her hand. “I'll see you later.”

“Where are you going?”

Chloe jumped at Luke's voice, the keys slipping through her fingers. He made a lunge and caught them, tossing them lightly in the air and catching them again. He lifted his eyebrows as if to repeat the question.

She'd thought he was safely lingering over his coffee and one of her mother's famous sticky buns. Looked as if she'd been wrong. “I'm taking my grandmother to the cemetery.” She hoped her tone was final enough that he'd get the message. She didn't want company.

He opened the car door, smiling. “Fine. Let's go.”

“I really don't need any help.” She could feel her mother's gaze on her as she reached for the keys. “I thought you had some work you wanted to do.”

His fingers closed around the keys. “Nothing that's more important than this.” He gestured to the car as if inviting her into a coach. “I'd love to see your grandmother again.”

“Well, of course Luke wants to go with you.” Her mother beamed at the man she no doubt envisioned as a future son-in-law.

She was outmaneuvered, and she could hardly make a fuss in front of her mother. “Fine.” She got into the car, trying not to flounce. “I'm ready.”

Luke closed her door, said goodbye to her mother and slid behind the wheel. She inhaled the scent of his aftershave as he leaned forward to put the key in the ignition, and she clasped her hands in her lap. This was going to be a long morning, after a longer night.

She'd tossed and turned for most of it, trying not to wake Miranda, who'd slept serenely in the other twin bed in the room they'd shared most of their lives. She hadn't been able to erase the memory of those moments on the porch. She'd continued to feel Luke's strong shoulder as he pulled her against him, continued to hear his voice as he called her his “right arm.”

Right arm.
Not what a woman wanted to hear, but it was an accurate description of how he felt about her—and she'd better remember it.

“Directions?” Luke stopped at Caldwell Cove's single traffic light and looked at enquiringly.

“Sorry.” She felt her cheeks grow warm and was glad he couldn't read her thoughts. “Just go straight along the water. See the church steeple? Gran's house is next to the church.”

“Tell me something, Chloe.”

“What?”

“Why didn't you want me to come with you this morning?”

So much for her belief that he couldn't read her thoughts. She seemed to be transparent where Luke was concerned. “I just…it's hard to keep up this charade with Gran. I've never kept secrets from her.”

“Never?”

She glanced at him, sure he was mocking her, but found only curiosity in his eyes. “Well, hardly ever. A lot of times it's easier to talk to a grandparent than a parent about things. You know how it is.”

“No.” He bit off the word, then shrugged. “I don't remember my grandparents.”

“I'm sorry. I can't imagine life without Gran. She's a strong woman. One of a long line.” She seemed to see all those Caldwell women, looking disapprovingly at the current bearer of the name. Maybe, if she'd been able to be alone with Gran today, she could have told her the truth.

“This house?”

When she nodded, Luke pulled to a stop by the gate in the white picket fence. She got out quickly before he could come around to open the door, then joined him on the walk. “Gran has a green thumb, as you can see.” She pushed the gate open, and they walked up a brick path between the lush growth of rosebushes. “Hers is one of the oldest houses on the island.”

The white-frame cottage was like Gran—strong, functional, enduring. Before they reached the black door, Gran opened it, seeming to accept Luke's presence as routine. She handed him a galvanized bucket filled with seedlings.

“Mind you put that someplace shady. I don't want those petunias wilting before we get them in the ground.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Luke smiled and held out his arm, as if he spent every day escorting an elderly woman wearing a chintz dress and a battered man's straw hat. “We'll take good care of them. And of you.”

Chloe fell in behind as they started down the walk, foreboding growing. Luke being charming was something to behold, and her grandmother, flirting outrageously from under the brim of the straw hat, was even worse.

Please, Lord, just let me get through this morning.
The verse Gran had given her popped into her mind and wouldn't be dislodged. If God did have plans for her future, she suspected those plans didn't include Luke Hunter.

 

“And that's Chloe's great-great-great-aunt Isabelle.” Gran pointed to the worn headstone. “She kept her family fed and safe right through the war, and that was no small thing.”

Chloe wondered if Luke realized Gran was talking about the War between the States, and then she decided it didn't matter. He was being polite and acting interested in Gran's litany of family graves, and that was the important thing.

“Your family's been here a long time.” There was a note in Luke's voice that she didn't recognize, and she wondered what it meant.

“Back to the first settlers,” Gran said with satisfaction. “Caldwells belong here.”