Chapter 10
Ten
Cretia pulled away from Finn so fast that she managed to shove him, and he groaned as the back of his head cracked against the wall. She was barely on her feet when an older couple appeared in the barn. The woman was soft but sturdy—maybe an inch or two over five feet. The man was an exact copy of Finn, plus a few gray hairs and about thirty years’ worth of wrinkles.
“Mom?” Finn groaned from his seat on the floor but didn’t make a move to get up. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Well, we had an errand over in St. Peter’s and thought we’d—What happened to your eye?” His mom looked between Finn’s rapidly swelling face and Cretia several times, her eyebrows rising with each glance.
Cretia had never prayed for an earthquake to open the ground until right then. Or maybe for the presence of those European magicians who waved a gold sheet to distract their audience while one of them disappeared. She’d wasted more than a few hours giggling over their videos, and at the moment, she’d happily pay them for a personal demonstration. To have someone distract Finn and his parents while she bolted out of the barn.
But she had no such luck.
She had to stand there under the weight of Finn’s mom’s inspection while her whole body probably turned as red as her flaming neck. And all she could think about was how close she’d come to knowing if Finn’s kiss was as sweet as the man himself.
And wouldn’t that make his mom proud?
“Just a little accident,” Finn finally said in answer to his mom’s question. He groaned as he pushed himself upright and strolled past Cretia, surreptitiously squeezing her elbow along the way.
Finn’s mom was apparently unconvinced by his explanation and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him down to her eye level. “You need to get some ice on that.”
“I know. I’ll take care of it in a minute. It just happened.” He waved his hand toward the partially finished box on the floor. “We were putting together Bella’s bed, and I walked into a—”
“ We? ” his dad echoed.
Like a veil had been lifted and Cretia had suddenly appeared, both Mr. and Mrs. Chaffey looked around their son and focused on her.
“This is Cretia. Martin. My ... um ... a friend of mine.”
His mom’s eyes flashed with some understanding. “From the harbor? You’re the girl he pushed into the water.”
Cretia shook her head quickly. “No. It wasn’t like that. It was just an accident. I ran into him, actually, and stumbled. He and Joe saved me.”
Mrs. Chaffey grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug, arms circling her shoulders like she never intended to let go. “We didn’t know you were still here. But we’re so—” She glanced back at her husband as though looking for the right way to end that. “Well, it’s just lovely to meet you.”
Under different circumstances, Cretia would have probably agreed. They were surely a sweet couple, and she couldn’t deny a bit of curiosity about Finn’s relationship with his parents. But if they’d only arrived five or ten minutes later...
Flames licked at her neck while her imagination filled in the gap, the might-have-been. She likely would never know now.
Forcing a smile, she shook Mr. Chaffey’s hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Call me Thomas. And this is Bea.”
“Ma’am,” Cretia said with a nod.
“Oh, now, we’re not so formal here. Bea is fine. And we’re so delighted to get to meet you. Of course, we heard about the accident all the way down in Summerside. But Finnegan seemed to think you weren’t going to stick around and we wouldn’t get the chance to meet you.” Turning to her son, Bea said, “You should have called us sooner. We would have made the trip.”
“Well, I...” Cretia glanced at Finn, hoping for some rescue. But his face wore the same confusion she felt. “I had to order a new phone and things. And Marie has been very kind to let me stay at the inn while I wait for them to arrive.”
“Well, come inside.” Bea wrapped an arm around her waist and ushered her toward the house. “Tell us all about yourself. You know, Finn never brought girls home. We didn’t get to meet any of his special friends...”
As Bea continued prattling on, Cretia saw Finn cringe. Just for a moment. It was clear he wanted her to stop talking, that she was winding down a road he’d rather not travel. But he never interrupted his mom. He didn’t clear his throat or cut in. Or even nudge his dad to end the painful chatter.
Instead, he squeezed his mom’s shoulder and kissed the top of her head.
Cretia knew his response wasn’t because she was a so-called special friend. She wasn’t. She wouldn’t even begin to assume so.
Finn’s actions spoke to his love for his mom. Even when she embarrassed him.
Something pierced straight through her chest that felt a lot like regret. A lot like wishing she had a relationship with her mom that looked even a fraction like Finn and Bea’s.
Finn ambled toward the house. With his good eye, he searched for Cretia, who had dislodged herself from his mom’s grip and disappeared somewhere out of his range of vision. When he tried to turn to find her, his head spun and he stumbled.
“Finn?” His dad approached from behind him, wrapping an arm around his back. “Steady there.”
He was fine. Perfectly fine. Except he couldn’t find Cretia or hear her footsteps above the pounding of his heart in his ears. If she’d taken his parents’ arrival as an excuse to scoot back to the inn before he could say anything about their almost kiss, he’d kick himself in the seat of the pants.
Because he had wanted to kiss her.
Correction. He still wanted to kiss her.
But obviously not now. Not with his parents hovering around.
Maybe it had just been the moment. The weight of her hand over his heart. The smell of fresh hay. The warmth of her body beside his.
Then he caught sight of her on the far side of his dad, reaching for the screen door to hold it open for them all. The punch to his gut said it hadn’t just been the moment. Even as she ducked her chin and tucked an escaped strand of hair behind her ear, she called to him. Whether she meant to or not was still uncertain. But he felt the tug toward her all the same.
As their little parade traipsed inside, he shuffled behind his dad to Cretia’s side. Catching her eye, he tried for an apologetic smile, scratching at his missing beard and mouthing a silent I’m sorry .
She brushed her fingers along his forearm, light as a feather. He was forgiven. For intruding parents. For interrupted kisses. For a life that must look entirely foreign to her.
“Oh, Finnegan,” his mom cried.
He whipped around to look for the disaster that must have provoked his mom’s reaction. Maybe Joe had gone after one of the throw pillows or pulled his treats off the counter. That had happened once or twice. But his dog had been in the barn with them, and a quick survey showed his home was just as he’d left it a few hours before.
“Your desk is a mess!” his mom continued, marching in that direction.
Finn almost laughed the comment off until she neared the corner in question. Suddenly his pulse skyrocketed, and a rush of adrenaline raced through him.
He’d dropped the letter from the bank on top of a pile there. He also hadn’t bothered to move it since then.
“Mom!” The word came out much sharper than he’d intended. At least it made her stop and turn toward him, so he slapped on the best smile he could manage. “Would you ... would you...” His mind was absolutely blank. He’d like to blame the board he’d taken to the face, but that wasn’t at fault. Still, maybe he could use it as an excuse. “Would you get me an ice pack for my eye?”
“Oh, my dear. Yes!” She scurried toward the kitchen, almost immediately rummaging through the freezer. Ice cubes clinked against each other as she poured them into a plastic bag.
He let out a quick sigh of relief, only to see his dad headed in the same direction his mom had been.
“Your father had a pretty good system back in the day,” his mom said. “I’m sure he’d help you get it organized.”
As if pulled by a rope, his dad strolled toward the desk and the letter he absolutely could not see.
Finn swallowed hard against the sudden pounding of his heart in his throat. “No. No.”
His dad turned, halfway across the room, an arched eyebrow asking all the questions he needed to.
“I mean, I know where everything is.” Finn offered a lame shrug. “A new system would just make me lose things.”
With a laugh, his dad walked back toward him, his motions stiff and slow, and clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s my boy.” Leaning in, he added in a whisper, “That’s what I tell your mom even if I have no idea where things are.”
Finn gave the expected chuckle, but a line around his lungs pulled tight, stealing his breath.
“You could hire some help, you know,” his mom said as she marched his way, holding out the ice pack wrapped in a dish towel. “I did most of the finances when your dad ran the business.”
He accepted the ice and pressed it to his face, the cold making him grimace and reigniting the nerves along his cheek. Keeping his other eye on his dad, Finn watched for any response to the suggestion.
His dad squeezed his shoulder. “That’s not a terrible idea.”
Finn couldn’t tell if that meant his dad thought he could use the help. Or if it meant that he didn’t think Finn could do it all on his own.
Probably the latter. Which stung like a wasp. But that hadn’t changed in more than ten years. His dad had always questioned his ability to take on the family business. Not so much to his face, but Finn had overheard enough to know the truth.
“I’m doing fine,” Finn said. “Things are running as smoothly as ever.”
His dad cleared his throat. “I heard from Mike that you’re thinking about adding onto the barn.”
Finn pressed his ice pack harder against his cheek. It was already numb, but the pressure against his face took his mind off of other stresses. “It’s just an idea. I haven’t really looked into it.” His insides twisted on the lie. But he couldn’t handle hearing his dad’s thoughts on a possible addition.
The property boundaries hadn’t changed since his great-grandfather bought the land. But the once tree-covered fields were now grassy pastures, fenced plots for the dogs—and other animals—to roam. The rolling hills blocked even a hint of a view of the north shore, but on quiet days, Finn imagined he could hear the gentle crash of the bay against the rocky red beaches.
Sometimes, when he let the dogs out to run, he stood in the fields and simply watched the wind ripple through the tall grass, the green flickering and changing with every stroke. Even Roberta enjoyed simply standing in the sunlight that poured over the hills. The animals seemed to know what he had learned long ago. There was something special about this plot of land.
It was made for more.
His dad had seemed content with it as it was. As far as Finn knew, his dad’s only hope was that the business would continue, that Finn wouldn’t sink what their family had worked so hard to build.
Finn wanted more than survival. He wanted to leave a mark, to raise the trajectory of their family’s name.
But until he could prove that he could grow the business into something more than producing a few dozen dogs a year, he wasn’t ready to tell his dad about his hopes for expanding the barn.
“Really?” His dad cocked his head to the side. “Mike said you gave him a hand with a repair on his boat and he offered to help you put it up.”
Finn responded with a hard shake of his head. “Nah. I’m not there yet. And I’m doing just fine on my own.”
“Of course you are.” His mom pointed toward the living room. “Come on, let’s sit down.” She helped her husband into the recliner, and as soon as he sat, the lines around his mouth eased and his shoulders relaxed.
Finn plopped onto the couch, motioning for Cretia to sit too. Maybe he could get his parents curious about her so they’d forget about his questionable professional skills and quit shooting furtive glances at his desk.
Cretia didn’t seem inclined to play along as she shuffled toward the door. “I’m going to just head...” She pointed toward the back door.
“Stay,” his mom commanded. She was a few inches shorter than Cretia, but she wrapped an arm around her waist and propelled the younger woman toward the couch, nearly depositing her right beside him before perching on the arm of the recliner. “Tell us about yourself.”
Thank you, Mom.
Cretia’s wide eyes said she wasn’t quite so pleased with the situation. Hovering on the edge of the sofa cushion, hands folded between her knees, she gave them a quick smile. “There’s not much to say.”
“That’s not true. Cretia travels around the world for her job.”
His mom scooted forward. “Well, that’s exciting. What do you do?”
Cretia’s glare at him said she did not appreciate having to explain her career to more people who probably wouldn’t understand it. But as long as they were focused on her, he didn’t have to worry about his parents asking more questions of him.