The Heart of a Hero (3 page)

“Hey, no swearing. You want to be treated like a lady, then—”

Trisha snorted, cutting her off. “Yeah, yeah. Then
talk
like one.” She dumped the cushions on the platform. “I hope you know Clay’s sister is even worse than he is. Remember my new friend Kimberly? Well, her mom says that whenever you stop at the bank, Vivian starts talking nasty about you just as soon as you leave. Forget that everyone thinks you’re a slut; she’s saying you’re also stupid for moving back home.”

“I told you, all that matters is that you and I know the truth,” Julia said, walking to the platform. “As for Clay and Vivian, I refuse to stoop to their level. Because all that
really
matters,” she growled, clasping Trisha’s shoulders, “is that you’re going to college in September to become Maine’s prettiest, brightest marine biologist. And I’ll get that guest liaison position at Inglenook this spring, and together we’ll show all those idiots that the Campbell sisters don’t have one stupid bone in our bodies.”

Trisha gently turned Julia around and started undoing her braid. “Do you really think Olivia will give you the job without a college degree?” She sighed. “Too bad they don’t give diplomas to people who sneak into classes and read whatever textbooks are lying around a frat house. Heck, you actually helped some of those guys with their papers. And Clay’s master’s degree should have
your
name on it, not his.”

“Don’t forget I used to work summers for Olivia back when she ran Inglenook for her ex-in-laws,” Julia said. “So I’m hoping I can persuade her I’m as valuable as any applicant with an honest education.” Julia ran her fingers through the riot of curls that had erupted the moment they’d been set free, and turned to Trisha. “I have to get that position because it comes with housing. And since it seems I can’t stop Reggie from turning into another belligerent Campbell male, I can leave home without feeling guilty. And you’ll be a legal adult next month, so Dad can’t stop you from moving out. I’ll ask Olivia if you can live with me until college starts and also spend your summer and winter breaks with me.” Julia clasped Trisha’s face and touched their foreheads together. “Just a couple more months, little sister, and our lives will finally be
ours
.”

Nicholas heard Trisha sigh as she turned away and spread their wet coats over the pews. She then pulled some clothes and a heavy quilt from the pack, walked to the platform, and balled up a couple of shirts as pillows. She helped Julia get settled on her side on the cushions and covered her up, then started unlacing her sister’s boots.

Nicholas dropped his chin to his chest with a silent curse as he remembered wondering why no one had offered Julia a ride home. Did everyone in town truly believe she was stupid for moving back in with a drunken father after her failed marriage? Had no one considered that she might have returned for her sister’s sake after their mother died?

Because personally, he thought Julia might be one of the toughest women he knew. She was pretty damn smart, too, for stealing an education—even if she didn’t have the degree to prove it. But then, he also knew a little something about seizing opportunities when they presented themselves. Like her use of the phones, which had a range of only five miles, that he’d persuaded Olivia were needed so he could send out a blanket alert if there was trouble; Julia certainly hadn’t hesitated to use his security program to her advantage, he thought with a grin.

Seeing that both women were finally huddled together under the quilt, Nicholas started to leave, only to be pulled up short by Trisha’s softly spoken words.

“I nearly fainted when that guy kissed you,” the girl whispered. “I mean, jeesh; he just gathered you into his arms and kissed you. And you just
let
him. Except for Olivia’s husband and Mr. MacKeage, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as big and formidable-looking as that guy tonight. I can’t believe you didn’t panic.”

“I didn’t panic because it was obvious he was only trying to help me. Oh, Sis,” Julia said, touching one of Trisha’s short curls. “Please tell me you’re not afraid of men. Not all of them are like Daddy and Clay; most are actually nice. And some might even be smart,” she drawled. “Nicholas probably just figured kissing me was the easiest way out of the mess he’d gotten himself into for giving me a ride.” She chuckled, although it held no humor. “The guy obviously didn’t know he was kissing the town slut.”

“But what happens when you see each other at Nova Mare? What are you going to say to him?”

“The only times I’ve even been within fifty feet of Nicholas were when he and his men were giving instructions on resort security during a staff meeting. And we don’t exactly run in the same social circles, so I probably won’t come face-to-face with him for another six months, and by then he’ll have forgotten all about it.”

“But how come he gave you a ride home to begin with?”

“I think he just happened to be in the parking lot when Reggie started acting like a brat again, and he came over to see if I needed any help. It’s his job to worry about employees, and he apparently takes it seriously.” She snorted. “Really seriously. You should see him standing there while his men give the talks at our staff meetings; I swear they’re preparing us for an invasion or something.”

Trisha giggled. “If Nova Mare is ever invaded, promise that you’ll run and hide behind him. The guy looks like he could turn back an entire army single-handed.”

Nicholas scowled, undecided if he’d just been complimented or insulted.

Julia laughed. “I’d have to get in line behind all the female workers—single
and
married. Really, Trisha, you should hear them in the locker room talking about ‘the mysterious man with no last name.’ Apparently size
does
matter to a lot of women.”

“Well, you all but disappeared in his arms when he kissed you,” Trisha said. “It certainly shut Daddy up. At least until he got a few more drinks in him and started in again about us girls sticking our noses in the air when it comes to men, and how we can’t catch ourselves a husband if we’re not properly grateful for
any
male attention.”

“I’m sorry Clay’s lies about me ruined your reputation, too. But once you get to college, I promise you’ll find yourself a really nice young man.”

“Ah, yes; the dreaded ‘slut by association,’” Trisha moaned, making Nicholas grin when the girl pressed the back of her hand to her forehead—her angst ruined by her laugh. But then she sobered. “Tell the truth, Jules: Did you like it?”

“Like what?”

“That kiss tonight. What does it feel like to be pulled into the arms of a big strong man and kissed like that? It wasn’t a quick peck, either. I mean, it looked
real
. So what was it like?”

Nicholas stopped breathing.

“You really want to know?” Julia whispered, to which Trisha immediately nodded. “Well, it was a good thing he stopped when he did,” she said with a nod, “because I was one second away from kissing him back.” She gave a snicker. “Why do you think he all but ran to his truck? He obviously felt me getting ready to knock his socks off.”

Nicholas barely stifled a snicker of his own. He’d stopped because he’d felt Julia getting ready to panic. Then again, maybe she’d been getting ready to slap his face.

“You kissed him back?” Trisha squeaked in surprise.

Nicholas heard Julia sigh, and saw her reach out and gently touch Trisha’s cheek. “I
almost
did. But apparently it’s been so long, I’ve forgotten how.” She dropped her hand. “But if you swear never to tell a soul, I will admit I did like getting a little taste of passion.”

“Because it reminded you of when you and Clay were first married?”

Julia suddenly choked on a laugh. “Good heavens, no. I realized a long time ago that what I felt for Clay was just dumb teenage lust, combined with the excitement of being married and getting out of this sleepy town.”

“Well, Spellbound isn’t sleepy anymore.” Trisha gave a loud yawn. “Not since the earthquake.”

“No,” Julia agreed, rolling onto her stomach with a groan. “For once I’m glad I don’t have any boobs, so I can sleep on my belly tonight—unlike you, Miss Curvy.”

“You had boobs when you weighed more. You don’t eat all day because you’re too cheap to buy lunch at the resort, and Daddy won’t let you pack one unless you start paying him rent.”

“I’m not paying rent when I wash his and Reggie’s clothes and cook their meals and clean up after them. I am going to have to dip into our savings and finally get that old pickup fixed, though, even if it does mean throwing good money after bad.”

“I can go back to riding the school bus.”

Julia lifted her head. “No, you can’t. You need to stay after for extracurricular activities. They’re important for college. And besides, if you start coming home at three, Daddy and Tom will put you to work, and I swear I’ll burn that mill to the ground before I’ll let you break your back stacking pallets of shingles.” Nicholas saw Julia yawn and settle her head back on the rolled up shirt. “Come on, let’s go to sleep. I think the aspirin I took is working, and that shot of rum is finally kicking in. I’ll be back in fighting form come morning. Night, little sister,” she said. “Sweet dreams.”

“Night, Jules.”

Nicholas stood rooted in place, trying to decide how he felt. On the one hand, he wouldn’t mind paying a late-night visit to the Campbell homestead, yet he was also in awe of Julia and Trisha’s resiliency. Hell, he didn’t know many
men
facing what these two women faced every day who would keep fighting like they did.

He waited until their breathing had evened out in sleep, then quietly exited the church back down through the basement. But instead of heading to his truck, he turned and entered the woods. As he’d expected, he found Trisha’s dark green SUV parked down an overgrown path far enough to be hidden from the main road.

Which suggested this wasn’t the first time they’d sought sanctuary in the church.

Pulling his hat lower on his brow, Nicholas nevertheless found his mood lifting as he walked back to his truck. But instead of getting in when he reached it, he stood staring through the rain at the church and actually felt a grin threatening to form at the realization that far from being afraid of men, Julia Campbell was merely fed up with them. Well, most of them, anyway, he thought as his grin broke free, as she apparently didn’t mind getting a little taste of passion from a giant trying to help her.

But before he got too excited, Nicholas decided as he climbed in his truck and headed toward Nova Mare, he really should find out if the woman liked cats.

Chapter Three

Julia took three aspirin, chased them down with a long swig of water from her work-issued aluminum water bottle, then wiped her mouth on the back of her hand with a fortifying breath. “There is no problem,” she said out loud, unwrapping a peppermint candy and shoving it in her mouth as she looked around the main room of the cabin she was halfway through cleaning. “Olivia just wants to tell me that I’m in the running for the Inglenook position.” Yeah, Julia decided as she carefully slipped on her coat; she’d turned in her application two weeks ago, and Olivia just wanted to set up an interview.

That was why she’d called and asked Julia to meet her at Foxglove Cottage, and
not
that Nicholas had told their boss what had happened last night when he’d given an employee a ride home, so Olivia was
not
going to ask why her top security guard had been forced to
kiss
his way out of a humiliating situation.

Julia locked the door behind her and walked down the steps to the compact electric cart fully equipped with everything she needed to service her cottages. She loved driving around the forested paths that led to the various-sized cabins scattered over the east side of Whisper’s summit—each cottage named after a local wildflower. The most secluded cabin that she cleaned was almost half a mile away from the resort’s common green, and every day Julia felt like the luckiest girl on the planet to be working in such a beautiful setting while taking care of the priciest, prettiest cabins in Maine. But she couldn’t help wondering what it must have cost to build Nova Mare and also completely refurbish Inglenook, because it appeared as if Olivia’s funds were as substantial as the inland sea sitting nearly two thousand feet below—especially considering it was rumored that Olivia’s husband, Mac, had also bought up all the timberland around the fiord all the way to Canada.

But even though Nova Mare commanded an entire mountaintop and catered to the very wealthiest people in the world, Inglenook had its own charm for being right on the shoreline. Julia had biked up the Inglenook road on one of her days off a few weeks back and had been blown away by the renovations being done to the old family camp where she’d worked summers from high school up to four years ago. Where crooked old leaky cabins had once stood there were now charmingly rustic but very modern two- and three-bedroom cottages. The old dining hall had been torn down and replaced with one that included a state-of-the-art commercial kitchen and a dining room large enough to seat a small army. The main lodge had been completely refurbished and the old groundskeeper’s cottage spruced up—including a new fence surrounding it and a new brass bell standing sentinel at its gate.

Remembering Olivia’s rule that no one was allowed past that gate into her private sanctuary when she’d been running Inglenook, it was apparent the woman was keeping that rule intact for the new guest liaison—which would be
her
, Julia hoped and hoped and hoped. “Please let this be about that job,” she said almost as a litany as she drove to Foxglove. She stopped beside Olivia’s shiny green personal cart, swallowed what was left of her peppermint candy, then climbed the stairs and went inside.

“Hey, there you are,” Olivia said, walking out of the bedroom—which Julia knew was spanking clean because she’d just finished here not an hour ago.

“What’s up?” Julia asked, slipping off her jacket and hanging it on a peg by the door. “How’s the place look?”

“Honestly?
Better
than I remembered.” Olivia gave a small laugh, shaking her head. “Between running Nova Mare and racing to get Inglenook finished in time for our first guests in May, I just realized I haven’t set foot in any of these cottages in months.” She motioned toward the table. “Come sit down, Julia, and let’s talk.”

Julia nervously brushed down her jersey and walked over and sat down, mentally repeating her litany that this was about the job.

“First off, I want to say that I was surprised to see your application for Inglenook’s guest liaison,” Olivia said, sitting at the small table diagonally from her, “since the posting I put up in the locker room to give employees first dibs said I was looking for someone with a bachelor’s degree—preferably in hospitality.”

“But I have plenty of experience, a good deal of it with you.”

Olivia gave a nod. “I said I was surprised, but I’m also pleased you didn’t let that little requirement stop you. I don’t have any doubt you could take care of my guests, based on our past experiences together.” Olivia’s smile faltered, however, as she reached in her pocket and pulled out a small card, which she then set on the table and slid in front of Julia. “As well as from what I’ve been discovering about you these past two weeks, since I started looking into why some guests are specifically reserving any cottage
you
clean based on suggestions from their friends who have stayed here.”

Julia felt all the blood drain from her face as she stared down at the card with her name and employee cell phone number on it. “I can explain,” she whispered.

Olivia gestured around the room they were in, her hand stopping to point at the hearth. “And you know what’s funny? I don’t remember furnishing any of the cottages with old chamber pots to hold kindling, or wooden crates for the pinecones, or deer and moose antler sheds to display on the mantels. And I could have sworn the furniture was set up differently in here.” She reached for the basket sitting in the center of the table and pulled it closer, then started poking through the acorns, pieces of birch bark, lichen, odd-looking pebbles, and dried autumn leaves before she picked up the note card that had been leaning against it. “
Keep an eye out during your walks
,” she read, “
and add your own unusual finds to this woodland treasure trove for the next guests to enjoy
.” She looked at Julia. “And I can’t for the life of me remember coming up with this idea.”

“It . . . This is one of the family cottages,” Julia said, dropping her gaze to the basket as she felt the blood rushing back into her cheeks. “And I thought sending the kids on a treasure hunt might help the parents entertain them.” She looked Olivia directly in the eyes. “And I know the phones are for employee use only, but I always make sure to introduce myself to my guests, and they like having someone they know show up when they need help starting a fire in the hearth or have a question about what to do in the area.”

“We have a concierge desk for that, Julia. Why, when I checked before coming here, is the table in Thistledown set with candles that look an awful lot like the ones in our restaurant and a bouquet of fresh cedar boughs and elderberry twigs?”

“I . . . um, I heard the couple coming in from Japan is on their honeymoon.”

“You mean when you
checked
with Reservations this morning to see who would be staying in your cottages this week, like you check every Saturday before you start your rounds?”

“I thought it would be nice to set up the cabins specifically for whichever guests are staying in them.”

“And this?” Olivia asked, reaching in her pocket again and pulling out a small cloth sack tied with jute string and a little card attached that described its contents.

“I can explain.”

“Good. Because I’m dying to know why one of our guests asked how come our gift shop doesn’t sell any of the ‘pretty little tree-shaped soaps’ we have in our cottage bathrooms.” Olivia untied the string, pulled out the soap and held it up to her nose, then set it on the table between them with a snort. “Which got another guest in the shop all huffy, saying she was in one of our expensive suites and
her
bathroom didn’t have any tree-shaped soaps.”

“I was . . . It’s just an experiment. I wanted to see if people would even use goat soap before I approached you about supplying the cottages with them.”

“They’re obviously homemade.”

Julia nodded. “I found them at the town’s Columbus Day craft fair, only they were just square chunks. Regan Coots makes them. You know Regan, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t she live on the Spellbound-Turtleback town line and have, like, ten kids or something?” Olivia asked with a laugh.

Julia found her first smile since walking in. “She’s got at least ten kid
goats
and twice as many nannies, but most of the human kids you see her with belong to other people. She also runs a day care.”

“Did you buy the soaps from Regan to put in our—or should I say
your
—cabins?”

“No,” Julia said with a shake of her head. “I asked Regan if she’d find a small cookie cutter shaped like a fir tree and cut the soaps, then give me a few samples to try out on the guests. I told her if they were popular that you might consider buying more from her, just like you buy your kindling and pinecones from me.”

“Only our cottages and pavilions have wood-burning fireplaces, Julia, so you don’t have any problem keeping up with demand. But Nova Mare goes through an awful lot of soap in the course of a year, especially if I wanted to supply all fifty hotel rooms and sixteen cottages. Can Regan fill that kind of order?”

“I wasn’t intending for them to be the only soaps we supply; just an added little touch of Maine. That’s why Regan scents some of them with balsam.”

Olivia arched a brow. “Like the balsam sachets you’ve tucked up out of sight on all your closet shelves?”

Julia fought down her blush again, although she couldn’t stifle her smile. “I wanted the closets to smell woodsy, but they’ve been lugging off those little pillows faster than I can sew them.” She leaned forward, clasping her hands together and resting her arms on the table. “I’m sorry for not running my ideas by you first, but I wanted to make sure they were popular.” She shrugged. “Some tanked, but the majority of them were well received. And I have a ton of other ideas for Inglenook when it opens.” She stood up. “In fact, I have a notebook full in my cleaning cart. Let me—”

“Hold on,” Olivia said, jumping up with a laugh and grabbing her arm—only to quickly let go when Julia flinched away. “What’s wrong? Julia, are you hurt?”

“I . . . I wrenched my back yesterday. I’m okay; it only hurts when I forget and twist or move too fast.”

“At work?” Olivia asked with obvious concern. “Did you hurt yourself here?”

“Oh, no,” Julia rushed to assure her. “Last night. At home. Let me go get my notebook so I can show you what a good guest liaison I’m going to be.”

“It can wait,” Olivia said, carefully ushering her back to the table and motioning for her to sit down. She then reached in her pocket for a third time before sitting down again. “As well as the cottages you’ve already cleaned this morning, before calling you I also checked out the ones you haven’t gotten to yet.” She set some folded money on the table, but left her hand on it. “And when I saw the size of your tips,” she said, tapping the money with her index finger, “I decided I should probably hand-deliver them.” She then unfolded the small wad and tapped the top bill. “It’s a really good thing I know you personally, because another boss, particularly if they happened to believe town gossip, might wonder why a single male guest staying in our most secluded cabin leaves his housekeeper a three-hundred-dollar tip.”

Julia jumped to her feet with a gasp, even as she grabbed at the sharp pain that spiked through her back. “They’re lies, every one of them! Olivia, I’m not—”

“I know. I know,” Olivia rushed to say as she also jumped to her feet. She guided Julia back to her chair, then sat down again with a heavy sigh. “Damn, I’m sorry, Julia. That didn’t come out the way I intended.”

“Clay told everyone I’d slept with half the men at the fraternity house where I’d worked,” Julia said, hating that her voice was shaking, “so he wouldn’t look like a jerk for divorcing me after I spent six years putting him through college.” She set her elbows on the table and hung her head in her hands. “But people would rather believe the worst about someone instead of hearing the truth, especially if it involves the daughter of the town drunk.” She lifted her head. “Clay’s the
only
man I’ve ever slept with. And from where I’m standing, it looks like he’s going to be the last.” She straightened and gestured toward the window looking out over Bottomless. “Not that I wasn’t given plenty of chances the first year I moved home in disgrace, with every Tom, Dick, and Harry figuring I was easy pickings.” She shook her head. “I swear I was pinched and groped more often than those fresh watermelons Ezra gets in at the Trading Post.”

“I’m sorry,” Olivia said, her own cheeks darkening.

“No,
I’m
sorry for overreacting just now.” Julia waved at the money on the table. “If I were running Nova Mare and saw those kinds of tips being left to the cleaning lady, I’d be all over her like flypaper.”

“Well, okay,” Olivia conceded with a wince. “I did think the worst after finding your . . . ah, calling card. But then I found an even larger tip at a family cottage you hadn’t cleaned yet, so I took a nice long look around the ones you’ve already gotten ready for tomorrow’s arrivals. It was then that I started putting the gift shop incident together with your reservation inquiries, as well as the fact that guests were asking for your cottages in particular, and finally realized what you were up to.”