Laura Abbot (11 page)

The house seemed emptier, chillier somehow with the young people gone. She felt a renewed affection for Laurel just thinking about her delighted reaction to the house. Katherine could spot a phony, but there was no pretense in the young woman’s appreciation. People could have a special affinity for places. She herself did. Summer Haven was the home of her soul. But it was interesting that Laurel, after only one visit, also seemed so attached.

Katherine had taken great delight in watching Ben follow Laurel with his eyes. Bless his heart, he was trying so hard to resist her, but his expression was a dead giveaway. The man was besotted!

Laurel was exactly what he needed. Katherine remembered him and Jay as little tykes—Jay, the mischievous troublemaker, and Ben, the steady, calming influence. He’d always been bright and mature beyond his years. That was one reason she’d entrusted so much of her legal business to him. Yet he could use a strong dose of Laurel’s zest for life. Surely he wouldn’t be a big enough fool to let her get away.

She squinted. Things were getting interesting on the beach. The two figures were mere specks now, but not too distant for Katherine to miss seeing that Ben had his arms around Laurel and neither seemed in any hurry to move.

“Perfect,” she muttered with a satisfied sigh. “I couldn’t have arranged it better myself.”

C
URLED IN THE CURVE
of Ben’s arm on her loveseat here in Belleporte, Michigan, above her very own gift shop, Laurel knew a contentment she wasn’t sure any human being deserved. He was a wonderful man, stirring in her a fierce need to take care of him, to smooth over the troubles he took to heart.

He ran his forefinger down the hollow space in her neck, and then leaned over to kiss her. They’d been holding each other for hours and she still couldn’t get close enough. And then, out of nowhere, her stomach growled. Ben laughed. “Can I take you out?”

“What time is it?”

He checked his wristwatch. “Nine.”

“How do you feel about bacon and eggs?”

“Food for the gods.”

“Coming right up.” She stood and crossed to the kitchen. Lady Luck was with her. Using the green peppers, onion and cheese she found, she could whip up a Spanish omelet, topped off with Enrique’s Salsa, which she just happened to carry in the store.

While the bacon cooked, she put on a bluegrass album, then heated the oven to bake the refrigerated biscuits she’d found behind the eggs.

“Hey, the woman can cook!” Grinning like a satisfied tomcat, Ben wandered into the kitchen.

“We mountain girls have a multitude of talents.”

He approached, put his arms around her and lightly ran his sandpapery beard across her cheek. “Very impressive.” With that, he released her and straddled one of the kitchen chairs, watching her thoughtfully.

As Laurel prepared the food, she hummed along with the music, almost afraid to trust her happiness.

Ben looked like he belonged here, in her kitchen. She whipped up the eggs and poured them over the chopped pepper and onion sautéing in the pan. But she couldn’t get her hopes up. Not until he sorted out his family. Besides, she’d promised to wait. But it wasn’t going to be easy. Ben was like the last piece of her dream dropping into place. The most important one.

“I’ve been sitting here thinking whether I ought to apologize,” he said.

“For what?”

“For coming over here and monopolizing your entire night.”

Laurel took a moment to set the wire whip on a spoon rest. “Why would you say something like that?”

“I don’t know whether I made it clear that right now I’m not in a position—”

“Ben, stop.” She turned down the burner and took the seat across from him. “I know you’re tied up with your family. That’s what I meant about waiting.”

“But that doesn’t seem fair to you.”

“It works fine for me. After all—” she gave him a knowing grin “—I’m the
carpe diem
girl, remember?”

“I remember.”

“You could do with a little of that philosophy, too.”

“Mine’s more like trying to make ends meet each day,” he said, his bitter tone catching her off guard.

“What do you mean?” She wanted to see his expression when he answered, but she had to check on the eggs. She rose to her feet, dread building.

“I’m looking at a lot of expenses. Terry’s in college, Megan will be going soon, followed by Mike, if he ever gets his act together. We’re still sorting out what Mom’ll have to work with financially. Then there’s Bess and the boys.”

Carefully she slid the omelets onto their plates. Equally carefully she asked, “Is all of that solely up to you?”

“I’m the oldest. Dad left me in charge.”

“I understand your sense of obligation, and I admire you for it. But does that automatically let the others off the hook?”

“What are you getting at?” There was no mistaking the edge in his voice.

She set down their plates, then turned back to get the biscuits and bacon. “It’s probably none of my business, but it seems to me Brian could pick up some of the slack. Terry could put himself through school and maybe Megan could work a year after high school, save some money and then go to college. Perhaps Bess could eventually get her own place.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“I’m sure it’s not.” Laurel tasted the omelet. Sawdust. How had she so quickly managed to mess up a perfect evening?

“My family must seem wild to you. That day you came to brunch it was a madhouse. You probably can’t imagine having brothers and sisters, and I can’t imagine not having them. Until you know more about us, you can’t possibly understand what I’m up against.”

“You’re right, but I’d like to learn, to try to get used to a big family.” She swallowed hard. “If you’ll let me.”

He slathered a biscuit with butter, then looked up. “I knew I shouldn’t have let this happen. It’s not fair to need you and not be able to give you much in return.”

Laurel slipped out of her chair and walked behind his. Leaning over, she cradled his head. “Darling Ben, you don’t have to save the world, and you don’t have to save me. I’ve already had one man try to protect me, thank you very much. For now, all you have to do is—”

He set down the biscuit and captured her hands. “Live the day with you.”

She kissed the top of his head. “That’s good enough for me.”

“And when it isn’t?”

“I’ll let you know.”

He stood and pulled her close. “Deal,” he said quietly. She laid her ear against his heart, listening to its steady, reassuring beat, understanding in a way she hadn’t until this evening how his family drew strength from him. It was easy to do.

B
EN THREW
a forearm over his eyes, shielding them from the shaft of sunlight slanting across his bed. With all his worries, insomnia often prevented the kind of deep sleep from which he’d just awakened. Then memory kicked in, accompanied by a slow-forming, satisfied grin.

Laurel.

And Laurel’s promise. Time to get his life on track.

He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and sat up. When was that likely to happen? No sooner did he put out one fire than another erupted. Mike was in danger of failing geometry, Bess was filing for a separation, the economy was hindering Terry’s job search, and Mom?

Ben ran his palms up and down his thighs. She was carrying on, but lately she’d seemed brittle—as if the effort of keeping the family together was too much.

He lurched to his feet. So much for euphoria. Laurel’s words from last night came back to him.
I understand your sense of obligation…. But does that automatically let the others off the hook?

She didn’t get it. How could she? Her family was very different from his. That night on the beach she’d referred to most of her life as “charmed.” Must be nice. Quickly he censored that thought. He wouldn’t trade his family—difficulties and all—for any other.

Moving to the open window, he breathed in the smell of freshly mown grass, acknowledging that he couldn’t get her out of his mind.

She’d said she could wait. He hoped so, because regardless of all his reasoned arguments about not getting involved, he could no longer stay away from her.

Didn’t want to stay away.

He raked a hand through his hair, then headed for the shower.

“K
ATHERINE
,
YOU’RE TOO
generous. I couldn’t ask that of you. At least let me pay you.” Laurel perched on the wooden bench beside the older woman in the garden of The Gift Horse, where she’d just finished arranging statuary, pots and wind chimes.

“Nonsense, child. I don’t need the money. Besides, what else do I have to do? And think of all the people I know. I’m a natural hostess.”

Katherine was in the habit of stopping by the shop in the course of her morning walks, and from her questions, Laurel knew she took a sincere interest in the business. But this? “I would want our arrangement to be flexible.”

“Understood.” The older woman put her arm around Laurel’s shoulder and gave her a quick hug before getting to her feet. “Greta will provide the cookies and I will pour for your weekend teas. It’s a delightful touch and should be a draw for your female customers.”

“It’s only a week until the grand opening. You’re sure about this?”

Katherine’s gaze was steady. “My dear, I’m as sure as I’ve been about anything. It will give me a sense of purpose and help you in the process.”

Laurel stood quietly, fingering a fern, as she watched Katherine stroll jauntily down the street toward the post office. One day Laurel had casually mentioned she planned to serve refreshments for the grand opening. Katherine had seized upon the idea, appropriating it as her own and expanding it to include a midafternoon tea each weekend during the tourist season. She insisted on presiding herself, claiming she needed worthwhile activity. It was a gift Laurel graciously accepted.

Katherine’s was a friendship she valued. Despite the difference in their ages, they had much in common, including an optimistic outlook on life. In fact, Katherine was an inspiration. Laurel didn’t know many women her age who would embrace such a radical change of lifestyle with such energy and enthusiasm. When Laurel had infrequent doubts about The Gift Horse and the financial obligation she’d undertaken, she had only to think about Katherine to receive an infusion of confidence.

She checked her watch. Time enough to hang the gourd birdhouses before opening for business. She dug in the packing box and pulled out the first—painted with a dogwood design—and hung it under the eaves. When she turned around, she noticed Mike slowly approaching the shop, head low, the bill of his ball cap shielding his face. When he entered the garden, his usual smile was missing, replaced by a sullen look.

“Good morning,” Laurel said cheerfully.

“Right.” He stood in front of her, avoiding her gaze.

“Ready for work?” She gestured toward the box of birdhouses.

“I guess.”

She handed him two gourds, took two herself and nodded toward the nearby tree. “Let’s hang these over there.”

He followed her, but said nothing, and his movements as he adjusted the birdhouses betrayed irritation. This was a side of the boy Ben had hinted at but Laurel hadn’t seen before. When they finished, she stood back admiring their work. “Birds ought to love these.”

“Birds don’t buy them,” Mike said. “People do.”

Laurel grinned. “A bit of humor. That’s a good sign. For a while there, I was afraid you’d gotten up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Mike stared at her, his lip curling. “I did.” He hesitated. “But it’s got nothin’ to do with you.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No. You’d just take Ben’s side anyway.”

“Try me.”

“He’s ruined my whole sophomore year. I’ve been grounded again.”

“I’m sure he’s only trying to do what he thinks is best for you.”

Mike glared at her. “See? I knew you’d stick up for him,” he said as he stalked off toward the garage, where the lawn tools were stored.

Laurel’s instinct was to go after him, but she had no right. It wasn’t any of her business. Ben was trying so hard to hold everything together, but Mike wasn’t making it easy for him. Maybe what the boy needed was to get into trouble and be forced to face the consequences. Ben couldn’t indefinitely save Mike from himself by grounding him. Her life with Curt had proved experience could be a powerful teacher.

Sighing, Laurel turned and entered the shop. At the counter, Megan was breaking wrapped coins into the register drawer. “Your brother doesn’t seem too happy this morning.”

Megan looked up and rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. Final exams are next week and he has to get a B on the test in geometry to pass. Except for work, Ben’s grounded him so he can study. Mike is
not
happy. He’s missing all the end-of-the-year parties.”

“What happens if he doesn’t pass?”

“He’ll have to take geometry again in summer school.”

“Would that be the end of the world?”

Megan shrugged. “I guess Ben thinks so.”

At that moment a customer entered, and Laurel shifted her attention to locating just the right basket for the woman’s kitchen. Later, though, she wondered if she should risk talking to Ben about Mike. Things were going so well between her and Ben. They’d shared the best conversations—and embraces. She didn’t want anything to upset this newfound harmony.

And interfering with his family would.

Still, they couldn’t live in a cocoon, no matter how cozy. More and more, she had to admit, she wanted a future with Ben, even though that thought filled her with both exhilaration and wariness. But she’d made him a promise.

One that was becoming increasingly difficult to keep.

T
HE EVENING BEFORE
the grand opening of The Gift Horse, Laurel was too nervous to sit still. She paced the garden, running over in her mind last-minute details. Balloons. New gift bags with the rocking horse logo. Entry forms for the door prizes. Good weather was forecast and already most of the summer homes were occupied.

“Hey, Miss Proprietor, keyed up?” Ben leaned on the gate, studying her with a bemused grin.

Laurel spread her arms wide. “Oh, Ben, I want tomorrow to be perfect.”

He moved toward her. “It will be.”

“I wish I could be as sure as you are.”

He tucked her hand under his arm. “You’ll see. Meanwhile, lady, we’re going for a stroll along the beach—get your mind off business.”

It worked. As she walked hand-in-hand with Ben, the sounds of water lapping at the shore and the soft strains of jazz emanating from one of the beach houses calmed her. She inhaled deeply, breathing in the lake-freshened air.

“That sounds a lot like contentment,” Ben said, tightening his grip on her hand.

“It is. Regardless of what tomorrow brings, this place is where I belong.” The unspoken words flashed like a marquee in her mind,
Like I belong with you.

On the horizon, the last rays of the setting sun winked across the lake and the evening stars took on added luster. They walked in companionable silence. Up ahead, beyond a modern multi-decked house, which Laurel secretly thought was a monstrosity, she spotted Summer Haven, solid and welcoming, its twin chimneys silhouetted against the darkening sky.

Abruptly she stopped. Whether it was an angle of light or an instantaneous image in her brain, she didn’t know, but…

Something was different.

She squinted, then shook her head dazedly. Whatever the “something” was, it was gone, leaving the square brown house planted firmly on the land’s end, looking exactly as it always had.

“Laurel?” Ben studied her closely. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” She started walking. He came alongside her and put his arm around her waist, drawing her close. Until then, she hadn’t realized she was chilled. Keeping her eyes on Summer Haven, she willed the change to manifest itself again.

“It must be something,” Ben said.

She tried a self-deprecating laugh. “For a minute there, I thought Summer Haven looked…never mind.”

“Your imagination working overtime?”

“Something like that.”

“It figures—as many hours as you’ve been putting in.”

She wasn’t accustomed to seeing things, so he was probably right.

“Let’s sit.” He motioned toward a set of steps leading up from the beach. He sat on the fourth one, cradling her between his knees, his fingers playing idly through her curls. The wind died and snippets of conversation wafted down from above, indistinguishable sounds reminding them they were not alone. Ben gently massaged the nape of her neck. When he finished, he leaned down and kissed the hollow under her ear.

“You make me happy,” he whispered.

“I’m glad.”

“I almost forget about things when I’m with you.”

She scooted back against a rail post so she could observe him. “By ‘things,’ do you mean your family?”

“Family. Business.”

“You don’t really want to forget them, do you?”

His grin came slowly. “No. Actually, the practice has had a boost. I’m going to Chicago next week on some business for the Kelleys.”

“And Bess? Mike? Your mother?”

He leaned back, bracing his elbows against a higher step. “Bess is keeping up a brave front, but I know she wishes she could wave a magic wand and restore her marriage. Mom?” He shook his head. “She’s bottling up everything.”

“Mike?”

“Nothing works with that kid.”

“Megan told me about the geometry.”

“He’s bright. He can do it if he wants to.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to.”

“Why not? He’s only punishing himself.”

Laurel leaned closer and spoke quietly. “And you.”

“Me?”

Laurel debated whether she should say something more and ruin the magical spell of the evening. “You,” she said simply. “Think about it.”

He stood abruptly. “Exactly what is it you think I should do about Mike?”

“Let failure be his choice…and his lesson.”

He didn’t say anything. Instead he moved a few feet toward the water’s edge and gazed out over the lake. Laurel watched him, fearful she’d crossed a line. Minutes passed. She hugged her knees to her chest, feeling, as if by osmosis, his distress.

Finally he turned back, holding out his hand to her. “Let’s walk.”

And they did, each lost in thoughts too personal to share. When they reached The Gift Horse, he paused at the door and framed her face in his warm hands. “I’ll think about it,” he said simply.

Then he lowered his mouth and kissed her, his lips gentle. Relief washed over her. She’d been concerned she’d offended him.

“Good luck tomorrow,” he murmured, before turning to walk toward the street.

“Thanks.” The word echoed in her mind. She stepped back and studied the painted sign over the door. Her own place. She ran a tentative finger over the lips Ben had just kissed.

One dream realized. One to go.

“M
OTHER
, you’re doing
what?”

Stifling a grin, Katherine faced Nan across the breakfast table. “I’m serving tea at The Gift Horse.”

“That shop you told me about?”

“Laurel Eden’s shop. Have I told you about Laurel? She’s a fascinating young woman. You’ll like her.”

Taking a sip of coffee, Katherine decided to go ahead and drop the next bombshell. “In fact, I’m going to serve tea every weekend through the season.”

Nan’s eyes widened. “You can’t do that. What about golf? Entertaining?”

Katherine wondered how long it would take Nan to get the picture—her mother had a new life. “There’ll be time for that. When I’m ready.
If
I am. But right now, I’m going to do exactly what I want to do. And what I want to do is help Laurel.”

Nan set down her fork and pushed back in her chair. “Mother, I don’t know what to say. You seem quite attached to this young woman.”

“Relax. It’s not as if she’s after the family jewels or anything. She’s pleasant, hardworking and fun to be around. What do I need with a bunch of old biddies in golf carts, anyway? You and I’ll walk down to the village this afternoon and I’ll introduce you before I begin my shift as the tea server.”

“Walk?”

“Oh, haven’t I told you?” Katherine twirled her finger airily. “I’m up to three miles a day now.”

She would have traded her best pearls for a photograph of the expression on her daughter’s face. Yes, indeed, wearing purple was minor league.

B
EN BENT OVER
his desk Saturday morning, determined to finish the most pressing paperwork before his trip to Chicago. He still didn’t quite understand why Jay and his father were involving him with the merger work, but he’d be a fool to turn his back on the opportunity. After he finished preparing a couple of filings, he turned to the thick folder Jay had provided him and began studying the financial figures for Allied Tech.