Lakeside Hero (Men Of Millbrook Lake Book 1) (4 page)

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Authors: Lenora Worth

Tags: #Religious, #Faith, #Inspirational, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Fiction, #Christian, #Family Life, #Marine, #Retired, #Return, #Wounded, #Veterans, #Pastry Chef, #Single Mother, #Daughter, #Danger, #Strangers, #Thrill- Seeking, #Wounded Hearts, #Healing, #Scars

BOOK: Lakeside Hero (Men Of Millbrook Lake Book 1)
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He leaned close, his eyes going smoky amber. “Well then, if you believe I’m still a kid at heart, can you believe that not all warriors are hard-core and full of rage?”

She swallowed and took a breath. “I’d like to believe that, but this is the part where most men get up and never come back.”

He chuckled and pointed to his face. “This and my bad leg are usually the reasons most women never give me a second glance.”

She took a sip of her tea. “I’m not good at believing things I can’t trust. It’s one of my biggest flaws.”

“You can count on the truth from me,” he said, his gaze holding her with a warm regard. “I’m my own man, and while I still have scars, I’m healing each and every day—even on my worst days. I just want the rest of the world to give me a chance. I want you to give me a chance.”

Still not sure, Marla lowered her head and whispered, “What kind of chance?”

He held his hands up in surrender. “Just to be your friend, okay? So I can get free cupcakes and big slices of wedding cake, of course.”

After that remark, he grabbed his fork and started eating his meal, his golden eyes twinkling.

Marla didn’t know what to say to that eloquent declaration. She toyed with her tea glass and wondered what to do. Should she take a chance? Should she give Alec a chance—as a friend at least? He’d been nothing but kind to her, and he sure didn’t fit the wounded-warrior stereotype, even with his visible scars still fresh. Maybe she should reach out to him—to help him on those worst days he’d mentioned.

Dear Lord, don’t let me mess this up
. She couldn’t rush headlong into anything. She wasn’t ready for that. But she could get to know him better, a little bit at a time. A friendship never hurt anyone. He was nice and he was working hard for a good cause. Wasn’t that the best kind of friend to have?

“I’m willing to give you a chance, yes. But I need something from you in return.”

“Name it.”

“I need you to be patient while we become friends. I’m a widow with a little girl. We only just met, so I need to get to know you a little better before I can let you meet Gabby. I have to take things slow and be very sure of what I’m doing. She’s been through a lot and...she’s sometimes afraid of strangers.”

He leaned back in his chair and studied her for what seemed like a long time. “I’m so sorry to hear you’re a widow. Sorry for your loss, but happy to get to know you.” Then he nodded. “No hurry. I’m not ready to dive right in to anything else, either. I’ve got all the time in the world, Marla. For you and especially for Gabby.”

He lifted up the Give Chocolate a Chance cupcake by his plate. “Even your cupcake seems to be in on this little discussion. Everything in life involves either taking a chance or relying on our faith to see us through. As Preacher would say, it’s the excitement of what’s next that keeps us alive.”

“Are you excited about...me?” she asked, too caught up in his words to care. “I mean about making a new friend?”

“I sure am. My new best friend is an amazing cook.”

Then he bit into his cupcake and sent her a chocolate-covered smile that melted her heart.

Chapter Four

T
wo days later, Alec sat in his office inside the Caldwell house and finished up the last tasks of a long tempting spring day. Taking in the dark teakwood cabinets and matching desk, he reminded himself that this house had once belonged to his parents and their parents before them. His father had spent his childhood here and after his death, Vivian and Alec had stayed here with Grandfather.

Alec remembered his mother and grandfather had both grieved the loss of his dad, to the point that Alec was neglected and left to his own devices. But Aunt Hattie had taken charge and hired a housekeeper to cook and clean and help look after Alec. Because during some of those early days, his mother had refused to get out of bed.

He didn’t like these memories, so he brought his mind back to the here and now.

The bay window off to the left gave him a perfect view of the big lake that fed into the Millbrook River. The river flowed south all the way into Escambia Bay and the Gulf of Mexico. Lots of fishermen and tourists came through here: some on their way home from having fun on the bay and some heading out to explore the balmy waters that poured out into the ocean.

But here, on the big oval lake that sat in the center of town, life moved at a slower current. The old umbrella-shaped live oaks and thick-trunked, waxy-leafed magnolia trees that circled the water made a nice shade for the blossoming hot pink azaleas and the thick clusters of gardenia bushes and hydrangeas that colored the manicured grass. White benches sat underneath the trees and along the trails that wound around the water. Ducks and geese quacked and cackled down near the lush orange and white daylilies growing near the shoreline. Occasionally out by the long pier, a fat mullet or a sleek catfish would jump up and make a lone splash in the dark water.

Alec got up and went to stand at the window—something he did on a regular basis every day since he’d come home. His loyal border collie, Angus, jumped up from his spot on the burgundy-colored Aubusson area rug and came to nuzzle Alec’s hand. He patted the shaggy dog’s head and nodded. “Okay, okay. I know it’s time for our walk. Give me a few more minutes.”

They had to wait until the sun began to set. His scar didn’t stand out as much in the shadows of dusk.

Watching the ducks crossing the lake, Alec remembered paddleboats and picnics, racing boats and water-skiing all weekend long and so many other things that now seemed like sunny dreams. He’d had a good life. A life without a father, of course, but his grandfather had tried to make up for that.

He turned from the big lace-curtained window to stare up at the family portrait over the marble-encased mantel. His grandfather, Alexander Garrison Caldwell, stood dressed in a dark suit behind a high-back chair where Alec and his mother, Vivian, sat. Grandfather Alexander had insisted on having the portrait done only a year or so after Alec’s father had been killed. Vivian pouted and fumed but she’d finally given in. Alec was around five and he was laughing up at his smiling mother. His mother’s smile seemed frantic and forced while his grandfather’s expression was full of indulgence and pride.

“We are a prideful lot,” he said out loud.

“Talking to yourself again?”

Alec turned to find his Aunt Hattie standing at the pocket doors, her green eyes bright even if she did have cataracts.

“You caught me.” He rushed to help her with the coffee tray. “Are we taking a break?”


You’re
taking a break,” she replied, ever the fussy hen. “I baked a pound cake and I have fresh strawberries from the Millbrook Market.”

Alec did a mock glance at his watch. “I do believe I could use a break, even if it is near quitting time.” He winked at Angus. “Sorry, fellow, our walk will have to wait.”

“You’ll need a walk. This might spoil your dinner.”


You’re
spoiling my dinner,” he retorted but he sat down with her and took the chunk of buttery cake she offered him. “These strawberries look pretty tasty.”

“Good crop this year, according to Delton Fisher,” Aunt Hattie said, looking younger than her seventy years. Delton Fisher owned a large produce farm and he also managed a big farmer’s market on the edge of town. He and Aunt Hattie, both widowed for years, were considered “good friends” around town. She shot Alec an inquiring smile. “Now tell me all about your day.”

Alec grinned and refrained from teasing her about Delton. His aunt had lived here all her life. She’d married a local banker and lived down the street in a big two-story Georgian house until her husband had died six years ago. After that, she’d sold the house and traveled some before she’d returned to a smaller house across town.

When her sister Vivian had died last year, Alec had asked her if she’d like to move in with him, reasoning to himself that this house was too large and rambling for one person and that she was lonely and isolated on the other side of town. She agreed on the stipulation that he’d allow her to cook and clean the house.

“Cook, yes, and only when you’re in the mood,” he’d told her. “But I have a maid who comes twice a week to clean the house.”

And so they’d settled in nicely together. His aunt didn’t have a problem staying active. He rarely saw her most days. But on ones such as this, she’d take a few minutes to come into his office and check on him. He kept her apprised of Caldwell business and she kept him informed on the local gossip.

Now she sat back with her tea and smiled over at him. “You are a paradox, you know.”

He took a big bite of strawberry-soaked cake and then gave her a questioning look. “Oh, and how is that?”

“Watching you now, I’d never know you were a hardened marine. You might be more comfortable in desert fatigues than you are here, but you
were
born to the manor, so to speak.”

Alec had to wonder if he was truly suited for this duty. Sometimes he thought about what he’d like to do with his life, but for now he was focused on Caldwell Canines. “So are you saying I’m going soft on you, Aunt Hattie?”

She laughed at that question and reached across the side table to pat his bicep through his button-up shirt. “Are you?”

He waved a hand toward the stack of documents on the desk. “I’m fighting a different kind of battle these days.”

“But the foundation is solid, right?”

He nodded to alleviate the worry on her beautifully wrinkled face. “Solid, yes. But I want to do more.”

“You’re still determined to build your training school? For the service dogs?”

“Yes, ma’am. It takes a lot of money to provide a service dog to an injured vet and most can’t afford that cost. I want to be able to help any wounded warrior who can’t afford to buy a service animal. And I’ve had several good contributions to match the foundation funding.”

Aunt Hattie leaned back and crossed her hands in her lap. “Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He put down his plate of cake and sipped at the coffee. He couldn’t explain something he didn’t quite understand himself. But this restlessness had to stem from one thing. “I...I met someone—”

Aunt Hattie clapped her hands together. “Oh, how lovely.”

He held up a hand at that feminine glee. “We’re just friends, as per an agreement.”

Aunt Hattie frowned and touched on her soft gray curls. “An agreement? That’s not very romantic.”

“I met someone,” he began again. “She owns a bakery—”

“Marla’s Marvelous Desserts?” Aunt Hattie’s glee went into overdrive. “Marla is one of the nicest girls I’ve ever known. Her parents are a joy, too. And that cute little daughter of hers—”

“You know her?”

“Of course. I know everyone in Millbrook.”

That was the truth.

His aunt leaned forward in her chair and clasped her hands together. “How did you meet?”

He told her about the wedding and the dinner at church. “Her desserts are...addictive.”

“And she’s a pretty woman.” That knowing smile again.

Alec had to be careful here. “She’s attractive, yes.”

Like, cute-as-a-button attractive
.

Aunt Hattie slapped a bejeweled hand against her lap. “I have a confession to make.”

Alec shook his head. “You already knew all of this, right?”

His cagey aunt had plied him with cake and strawberries, hoping to get the real story. She, of all people, knew he had a major sweet tooth.

Giving him an innocent smile, she said, “Well, I might have heard a rumor that you two ate together at the singles dinner the other night. I would have been there, but Delton took me to see a play in Pensacola.”

“Single-and-social,” he countered. “Networking.”

“Oh, is that what they call it these days?”

“It was a great networking opportunity. I’ve received several donations from that one dinner and I’ve had several calls from interested people.”

“And you’ve found a new friend.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No, I don’t. And please, I don’t want you talking about it with all your church friends, either.” He patted her hand. “I meet people all the time but Marla is...different. Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”

“Okay, then. All in due time.” His aunt took another nibble of cake. “But I’m so glad you’re making new friends.”

Bless her. She made it sound as if he was back in middle school, but Aunt Hattie would honor his wishes because she’d been raised to be polite and discreet. Even when she “shared” information with the other matrons in town.

Aunt Hattie didn’t pursue the subject of Marla Hamilton, thankfully, and soon they were talking about the weather, his plans for the rest of the week and her upcoming doctor’s appointment. Angus woofed and yawned and glanced longingly toward the window.

His aunt got up after they’d finished their cake. Alec stood, too. Aunt Hattie came around the coffee table and gave him a quick hug. “I’ll see you later at dinner. We’ll keep it light—just fresh sliced tomatoes and cucumbers and some cheese and crackers.”

Then she glanced out the window and turned him around on his heels. “Oh, and by the way, your new friend is out there taking a stroll around the lake with her little girl.”

Alec gave his aunt a frown but he moved toward the window in a flash, with Angus right behind him.

“You should go out there and visit with them,” Aunt Hattie said, the hope in her voice shouting at him.

“I’d rather not,” Alec admitted. “Not right now. Not yet.”

“She’s seen your scars, Alec,” his aunt said on a soft note. “And Marla is the kind of woman who can deal with any scars you might have.”

“Yes, she’s seen my wound.” He touched a hand to his face. “But her daughter hasn’t. And she won’t. Not until Marla thinks she’s ready.”

“I hope that’s soon, then,” Aunt Hattie replied before leaving him alone.

He turned back to the window and watched as Marla walked behind a bright pink-and-white miniature bike with training wheels attached. The little girl on the bike could be a tiny version of her mother from what he could see of her long reddish blonde hair. The sight of them together, laughing and having fun, tore at Alec in a way that nothing else had in recent days.

And made him ache for something unattainable, something unexpected.

Gabby looked adorable.

And so was her mother. Marla wore a flared floral skirt and a simple blue T-shirt. But her long hair spilled out around her shoulders in bright hues of gold and red.

Alec almost headed out with Angus, but he’d promised her he wouldn’t push. And he didn’t want to scare Gabby before they’d been properly introduced.

So he waited until they’d circled the park and when he didn’t see them coming back around, he finally took his dog out for a lonely walk. For now, that would have to be enough.

* * *

Marla and Gabby left the park and headed back to Lake Street, but she couldn’t help but think about the big white Victorian house that stood on a prime piece of real estate right across from the lake. Caldwell House had always been a fixture of Millbrook Lake, and she’d been by the old house many times through the years. But back then, she’d never connected the house with the man she’d recently met.

Funny how their paths had never crossed when they were younger—but then, Marla had lived outside of town on a farm and attended a different school from him.

Alec Caldwell had lived up there, in that wedding cake of a house, growing up. And now he was back as a grown man. A marine who’d served his country and was now trying to help wounded veterans have better lives.

What about his own wounds?

While Gabby had fed the fussy ducks, Marla had ventured a glance toward the rambling white house with the dainty scrollwork on the porch posts and the big bay windows on each floor.

And she’d wondered if Alec was in there, working hard at making his dream become a reality. Had he inherited a lot of money? Did he want the responsibility of running a massive charitable foundation? What had made him go from being a soldier to becoming a local businessman? Did he have another dream that he’d put on hold?

So many questions that she wanted to ask and so many questions that she needed to leave alone. Checking on Gabby, she watched her daughter and smiled. Gabby loved riding her bike through the park but she always stopped and waited for Marla if she saw any men approaching. Knowing that her only child was frightened of grown men broke Marla’s heart, but as a mother, she stood between her little girl and any imagined dangers. Gabby was improving, though her therapist had told Marla it might take a while before Gabby got over her fears.

Which meant that Marla couldn’t think about Alec Caldwell in any way other than as an acquaintance.

Because how could she bring together a man with a noticeable scar on his face and a child who had hidden scars that held her back? And how could Marla heal her own scars enough to even get up the courage to try?

She had to think of her child right now, and if that meant she couldn’t go on a friendly date, then so be it.

After all, she wasn’t ready for anything too heavy. She had Gabby and she had her work and she had friends and family to help her through. For now, that would have to be enough.

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