CHAPTER 7
C HAPTER 7
C ort dropped by the tavern near closing. He’d spoken with Marlow on each of her breaks. The wealth of compassion she’d shown flat out astounded him. It cost her, he saw that multiple times, but she hadn’t turned Pixie away—thank God.
The young woman looked like a child, petite and far too thin, her eyes bruised with illness and her shoulders rounded by loss of pride. He believed her assertion that she’d had nowhere to go and no one to help her.
Coming to Marlow might have been the best decision she’d made in a year. His faith in Marlow surprised him, too, but he didn’t have a single doubt that she’d get the girl on the right track, whatever it took. She was that amazing.
Going straight to the bar, he flagged Herman and immediately asked, “Where is she?”
Herman nodded to the back corner, where Marlow was taking orders from a group of four outsiders, all of them young men. “They’ve kept her jumping.”
His gaze never strayed from Marlow, but Cort’s tone lowered and his eyes narrowed. “Meaning what, exactly?”
“Look at her. She’s cute as hell and smart, with quick comebacks, and those young fools have all asked her out, several times each. Doesn’t seem to matter how many times she dismisses them. I think they’ve eaten and drunk more just to get her back to their table.”
“Excuse me.” Cort started toward her. Herman was right—she was extra cute tonight with her tawny hair in a thick braid over her shoulder, jeans hugging that lush behind, and her Dry Frog Tavern T-shirt filled out in all the right ways. Even her method of tying her apron showed flair, crossed over her waist once and in a fancy little bow near her hip.
Herman was at his side in an instant. “Now, Cort. Don’t go causing any trouble.”
That unnecessary request stopped him in his tracks, and he slowly turned to face Herman with a frown. “Have I ever?”
“No.” Shifting his feet and running a hand over his face, Herman said, “But we’ve never had anyone like Marlow here, either, so I think you could, given how you’re looking at her.” When Cort just stared at him, he groused, “Never saw you look at anyone like that before.”
Damn. He hadn’t meant to alarm Herman. Briefly clasping his friend’s shoulder, Cort said, “I wouldn’t, unless it was absolutely necessary. You have my word.”
Herman’s attention shifted to Marlow, and he nodded. “If it was necessary, I’d do it myself.”
Huh. She’d definitely won over Herman, and probably a dozen other originals. Marlow had that way about her, a genuine kindness no one could dismiss. “Good to know.” And with that, Cort moved on, making his way around occupied tables, greeting familiar faces with a nod and ignoring the wary looks from outsiders.
He reached Marlow in time to hear one guy say, “Come on, give me a shot. I swear I’ll show you a good time.”
Apparently fed up, she replied succinctly, “You’re a child.”
“I’m not!” he said, sounding very much like an insulted boy.
“Of course you are. A man would understand the word no .” She pulled the bill from her pad and laid it on the table. “Now, if you children don’t need anything else, we’re ready to close.”
Struggling to hide his amusement, Cort slipped his arm around her. Instantly, she stiffened, then turned on him with umbrage.
Until she saw him. “Cort!” She gave him a brilliant smile and leaned into him. “I didn’t see you come in.”
Ignoring the young men, he asked, “Busy night?”
“Every Saturday is like this.”
“True enough.” But he was still getting used to Marlow being a part of the Saturday crowd. He took the tray from her, holding it one-handed, nodded at the gawking guys who’d all clammed up, and led her in the direction of the kitchen. “Do you have a few minutes?”
“Barely.” She tucked her order pad into her apron pocket. Along the way she accepted a tip from an older couple they passed, thanking them with a smile, and grabbed three more glasses off an empty table. “I’ll be glad to call it a night.” The second they reached the kitchen, she asked, “How’s Pixie?”
Before he answered, he took the extra glasses from her, set them and the tray by the massive utility sink to be washed, and leaned in to brush his mouth over hers.
Man, he’d been missing her mouth. She’d quickly become an addiction for him—the scent of her skin, the softness of her hair, the taste of her lips.
In a little possessive show of her own, she slid her hands to his neck and deepened the kiss, then eased up and rested her cheek on his chest.
Nice. He could get used to greetings like that. “She’s okay. Settled in and resting.” He sensed that it was more emotional exhaustion than physical that wore on Marlow tonight. She was a dynamo with endless energy, but her emotions had been through a chaotic cyclone.
“I feel terrible abandoning her, and it annoys me that I do.”
Loving her honesty, Cort wrapped her up close and offered reassurance. “Both of those feelings are understandable and acceptable. You know that, right?”
“Maybe.”
Lifting a hand to her face and cradling her cheek, he looked into her eyes and knew he’d do damn near anything for her. How that had happened so fast, he couldn’t say, except that he was a natural protector, and Marlow was an exceptional woman.
He wanted to make sure she knew it, too. “Life doesn’t play fair. It wasn’t fair to my mom, it hasn’t been fair to you, or fair to Pixie.” Touching her made him want to kiss her, so he did, but he kept the contact to a soft press of his mouth to her forehead. “I wish Mom had had someone like you.”
“She had you, a big, badass Marine, instead.”
“Not until I was older. When I was little . . .” There were so many times he wished he could go back in time and face his father as the man he was now, instead of the scared boy he’d been. “We’d have been better off alone like Pixie than with my dad around.”
She gave him a sad smile and another tight hug. “The thing about life is that it has a mean way of reminding us how good we have it. You had your mom, and she had you. Your memories of her are a gift, and she was so proud of you.”
“True. Some people are completely alone in the world.” He’d thought of that many times. He’d lost his mother but gained a town.
Now Marlow was here, and through a campaign of her own making, she was quickly becoming an insider.
When she looked up at him, he saw that her hair was a little sweaty near her temples, and her mascara was smudged near the corner of her left eye.
No woman had ever looked better to him.
She said, “I came here to Bramble, determined to downsize my life. Less stress, less obligation and wealth, and definitely less pretense. I was so tired of living up to other people’s standards. This was going to be my time.” She sighed heavily. “It’s easy to live in a bubble of our own complaints. In Illinois, I felt like I was living such a sorry tale.”
“You’ve been through a lot.” He already knew where she was going with this, but she had a right to her feelings. Few would have recovered as gracefully as she had, and with a huge heart still intact.
She nodded. “But then I see Pixie. My God, Cort, she was only nineteen when she was going through all that alone. The poor girl turned twenty and at the same time got the biggest, scariest, most precious burden life offers. Facing the world without a job or family is scary enough, but with a tiny baby to care for?” Her dark eyes held a wealth of empathy. “And she’s still so sick.”
It had stunned them both when the doctor said that Pixie’s blood pressure was still far too high, that she should have been on meds and possibly bed rest, and that she currently had bronchitis. Marlow had wanted to stay with her, but at the same time, Cort could see that Pixie needed some space.
So he’d offered.
“For tonight, she’s fine, I promise. I made sure she ate, and she has meds for the coughing and her antibiotics. I put diapers and wipes for the baby on a dresser. Plus, I stocked up on some easy food for her.”
With a tired smile, Marlow asked, “Frozen dinners?”
“And canned soup, cheese and crackers, snacks, lunch meat for sandwiches, and plenty of juice. Oh, and skim milk and tomato juice, like the doctor suggested.”
“I swear, you’re an angel who’s landed on earth. Thank you for doing all that.”
He was far from angelic, and sometimes his remorse put him squarely in hell. “It’s no more your responsibility than it is mine, except that people should help one another when they can.”
“Yet one more Bramble rule for neighbors?”
“No, a rule for humanity.” He glanced at the time. “You want to make another trip around the restaurant before clocking out? I’ll wait for you.” They had a little more talking to do, and he’d rather do it tonight.
“You don’t mind?” she asked.
For answer, he gave her a hotter kiss, then turned her toward the seating area and walked her out. “I’ll be at the bar.” Where he could keep an eye on pushy young men .
Fortunately, within fifteen minutes, everyone had cleared out. Herman would stay until the dishwashers finished, but he insisted that Marlow go.
“You did great today. Don’t think I didn’t notice. How you kept up with the outsiders, I don’t know, but I appreciate it.”
She glowed with his praise. “Actually, it was a nice distraction, and after the first hour, I found my rhythm.” She grinned. “Take orders, pick up empties on my way to the kitchen, carry out food, handle refills, and then take more orders. It was almost like working a conveyor belt, not that I’ve ever done that either, but I imagine it’s similar, minus all the chitchat—and the tips.” She bobbed her eyebrows playfully. To Cort, she said, “I’ll grab my purse and be right back.”
Once she’d gone, Herman grinned. “She’s a keeper.”
Cort agreed but kept the words to himself.
“Are you driving her home?”
“No, she has her car, but we might sit in the lot a minute to talk.”
His brows lifted. “Anything wrong? Her pushy in-laws aren’t back to give her a hard time, are they?”
So Herman knew they were her in-laws? “Did Marlow tell you about them?”
“Just the basics. Also told me someone got her address from a local. She said if she got any calls, she’d need to take them. Usually she leaves her phone in the break-room locker, but she kept it in her back pocket this time. Saw her check it off and on.”
Marlow returned to them in time to catch that last bit. “Thank you for not complaining about my phone, Herman.”
The way she’d worded it, if Herman had been complaining, he’d have felt rebuked. But Herman blustered now, saying, “’Course I wouldn’t. It didn’t slow you down, not like it does some people who want to be on their phone around the clock.”
“You’re a terrific boss.”
It amused Cort to see Herman blushing. “I have to get to the kitchen, make sure everything is cleaned up right.” He started toward the door. “I’ll lock up behind you.”
Once outside, Cort said, “We can sit in my truck for a minute, or I can follow you home. Which is easier for you?”
“You don’t mind being up this late?”
It was now after one in the morning, and he should have been tired but wasn’t. “I’d love to head home with you to talk for a while, but it’s been a hell of a day for you. If you need to rest, I understand.”
“I won’t be able to sleep anyway. How about I follow you to my house? Every time I drive home after dark, I worry that a deer will jump out and startle me.”
He agreed, and luckily the deer stayed hidden. At the driveway to the cottage, he waited in his truck until she pulled up beside him.
The air was brisk, the dark night amplifying the distant croak of frogs on the lake.
As Marlow unlocked the front door, she said, “It’s so peaceful here, it’s hard to imagine that anything bad could ever happen.”
“But you’re still worried?”
“Let’s call it concern.” She led him into the kitchen and dropped into a chair, her elbows on the table, her head in her hands. “Pixie doesn’t have a phone. She’s so thin, and the baby is still so tiny. What if something happens?”
This was why he’d wanted to talk. After getting them each a bottle of water from the fridge, he sat across from her. “Actually, I reactivated her phone.”
“Cort!”
“She’d previously downgraded to the most basic plan, so it wasn’t expensive. She can call or text but can’t access the internet, and there’s no GPS or long-distance calling. That wasn’t my decision; it was just the plan she’d chosen before her service was shut off.”
“Trying to conserve funds, I guess.”
“That’s what she said. Understand, honey, she protested. She kept saying the diapers and a bed to sleep in were more than she’d dared to hope for.”
Marlow groaned. “If Dylan was here, I’d beat him up.”
Envisioning that, Cort smiled. He’d put his money on Marlow. “I assume he was your age?”
Her head came up with a fierce frown. “Four years older, so he was damn near forty and involved with a nineteen -year-old. And not a sophisticated nineteen-year-old, either.”
Cort didn’t disagree with her. It was unconscionable that the man had used Pixie as he had. “Knowing she was pregnant, he should have legally made sure she’d be protected.” That sounded wrong, like an insult to Marlow, so he amended with, “Not that a married man should have ever touched her in the first place. All that aside, though, she’s here now, and she’s anxious to do whatever she can to repay you.”
“And you.”
Knowing Marlow as he did now, he assumed she had a plan in mind. She’d probably already plotted out the next few days, maybe even the next few weeks. Her willingness to get involved astounded and pleased him.
There couldn’t be many people like her in today’s jaded world.
To put her mind at ease, he said, “I gave her my number in case of an emergency and told her we’d check on her tomorrow.” That was hours ago. It would be dawn soon.
“Did you give her my number, too?”
“No. That’s for you to do, if you want to.”
“I want to,” she said firmly. “I’ll feel better knowing she can reach me if it’s necessary.” Tapping her fingers on the table, she detailed some of her plans. “I’ve thought about her and this situation nonstop since she arrived.”
He’d known she would. “And?”
“I have some ideas on how I can help her regain her independence. That’s important for anyone, but especially for a single parent. She’ll need to know that she can take care of herself and Andy, no matter what.”
“So that she never again finds herself in a position like this one?”
Marlow waved that off. “Things are sometimes out of our control. That could happen to anyone.”
Such a remarkable attitude for a woman as independent and accomplished as Marlow. More and more every day, she impressed him.
She did more finger tapping. “I’d like to see her better armed for success, and I’d like for her to have options. That means she needs marketable skills, and probably more savvy. I can help her with both.”
How was a man to guard his heart against that type of logic? “I bet you were one hell of a sexy businessperson.”
Her smile showed a load of confidence, and that was sexy, too. “Cort, would you be amenable to adjusting our agreement just a little?”
He wasn’t sure what agreement she meant, not that it mattered. “Right now, here with you, I’m amenable to just about anything. But to be sure we’re talking about the same thing, why don’t you lay it out for me?”
Her dark eyes stared directly into his, making both promises and demands. Reaching across the table, she settled her small, warm hand over his forearm. “I know it’s late, or rather early, and we’ve both had a full day. However, I propose we bump up our assigned Sunday date to this very minute. Well, after I have a quick shower, that is.”
Pushing back his chair, Cort said, “I have one stipulation.” He got to his feet and held his hand out to her. “We enjoy that shower together.”
“You’re a tough negotiator.” Grinning, Marlow placed her hand in his. “But I’ll agree to your terms.”
* * *