CHAPTER 11
C HAPTER 11
A fter viewing the property, Marlow realized that Pixie truly did have a good eye. She easily envisioned what Marlow wanted and shyly offered suggestions that made a lot of sense.
The second building they looked at was almost perfect. There were a few walls she’d want removed to improve the flow and available floor space for displays, so she hoped Cort would get involved, too.
Before they’d left, Pixie had sat in the back seat and nursed Andy while they chatted about potential for the business. When she’d finished, she’d changed the baby’s diaper, and now he was sleeping.
The drive was peaceful, the day had been productive, and Marlow decided to push forward. “Could I ask you something?”
Immediately, Pixie said, “You can ask me anything. Heck, you have the right to ask me anything.”
Getting her new friend over the idea that she was “less than” wouldn’t be easy, but Marlow was determined to make it happen. “No, I don’t. No one has the right to make personal demands of you. I have questions, and as your friend, I hope you don’t mind answering. Whether you do or not won’t change our friendship.”
“I don’t mind.”
That simple answer didn’t quite cover it, but for now, Marlow let it go. “Is Pixie your real name?” So her friend would understand, Marlow said, “I think it’s adorable, and it suits you, but it is unusual.”
The smile that bloomed on her face reassured Marlow, even before Pixie answered.
“My aunt helped to raise me. My legal name is Joanna, but Aunt Mary always called me Pixie because I’m small, and I guess it stuck.”
“What about your mother and father?”
The smile faded. “Mom lost custody of me when I was five, so Dad had me for a while. Then he got arrested, and Aunt Mary didn’t want me held by the state, so she stepped in.” She fiddled with her purse strap, peeked back at Andy, looked out the window.
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to, but no one’s asked me about it before, so I just . . . never have.”
There it was again, the emphasis on how alone Pixie had always been. Of course, she’d been easy prey for Dylan. The girl had been starved for attention. “I’m sorry. I’m here, and I’m always willing to listen, okay?” More and more, this brave young woman stole her heart. Pixie had such a can-do spirit, and she was so quick to smile, to appreciate every scrap of kindness she got, Marlow couldn’t help but care about her.
Maybe that was how the town had felt about Cort’s mother, too. Marlow, however, wasn’t at all the same. That made her frown. Would the town embrace her anyway, or would people feel she didn’t need them?
She did, but maybe she hadn’t shown it enough. It was something to think about, but for now, she wanted only to encourage Pixie.
Quietly, Pixie said, “My mom was an addict. Dad drank too much, but it mostly wasn’t a problem.”
Until it was, Marlow assumed. “Why was he arrested?”
“He got in a bar fight and it was bad. He had a knife.”
Dear God. “Where were you?”
“Oh, I wasn’t with him! I was at our apartment.”
“How old were you?”
“Ten.” She went quiet again. “Dad had gotten in trouble once before, when he was drinking and got mad and threw his car keys.” At the side of her head, Pixie slid her fingers beneath the locks of her fair hair. “He didn’t mean for them to hit me, but they cut my scalp and I had to get stitches at the hospital. He told me not to tell anyone how it had happened, but since he was drunk, he didn’t realize how loud he was. The nurses heard him.”
Dear God. Appalled, Marlow said, “I am so damn sorry.”
“No, it was okay. Aunt Mary ended up with emergency custody, and that turned into permanent custody. She was awesome. She passed away when I was seventeen, but by then I already had a job and was able to live on my own.”
Marlow thought her emotions had taken a beating lately, and that the hard knocks had toughened her heart.
How wrong she’d been.
So often, in completely guileless ways, Pixie proved just how tender her heart remained. For this brave young woman and her endearing son, Marlow’s heart ached.
Compared to Pixie’s numerous trials, Marlow’s paltry difficulties hardly mattered. Realistically, she knew it didn’t work that way. Heartache was heartache, each unique and difficult for different people and their situations. You couldn’t compare problems or how they affected someone.
Knowing that, having a small understanding of Pixie’s struggles, Marlow reached out to pat her arm. “You know what? I was already impressed with you, and now I’m downright floored. You’re an incredible young lady.”
Pixie stared at her in bewilderment. “But I’m not! I’ve made a complete mess of my life.”
“Oh, honey. Nothing could be further from the truth. You took a very messy life and somehow managed to become a strong, capable, and determined woman, who I think also happens to be an incredible mother.”
“You’re going to make me cry again,” Pixie warned with a laugh. “I swear I never used to be this weepy. The doctor said it’s from having a baby and my hormones being overactive—though that’s not how he said it—but seriously . . .” She fanned her face as her eyes turned red. “Don’t be so nice to me.”
Marlow laughed. “I’ll be as nice to you as I like. After all, you’re working for me and that makes me the boss. Bosses often do exactly as they please.” Inspiration struck, and she said, “In fact, as your boss, I’d like to stop for ice cream.”
“Ice cream?”
“Yes. I think I want a banana split. What do you say? You like ice cream, right?”
“Love it, actually.”
“Good, then let’s indulge.”
“But . . . you’ve already spent enough on me.”
Marlow waved that off. “Consider it payment for today, for keeping me company and helping me view properties. Your time is valuable. You’ll be compensated.” As she drove, she saw a department store and decided on another stop first. “An ice cream doesn’t cover it, so I also want to get one of those neat baby carriers. You know, the kind you wear like a backpack? What are they called?”
Pixie stared at her. “Um, with Andy so small, I’d need to carry him in front of me.”
“Of course. I should have realized. A front carrier then. We’ll find one.” Her thoughts seemed to skitter everywhere at once. There were many things she suddenly wanted to do, and while she could claim they weren’t self-indulgent, she knew that would be a lie.
Spending the day out, pampering Pixie, and enjoying time with her in the ways she wanted were actually for her enjoyment—but hey, they’d benefit Pixie as well, right?
As she parked in the lot, she added, “Since you’re feeling better, one night this week we’ll walk on the beach. I know you’ve seen the fireflies.”
Pixie nodded. “They’re neat.”
Was Marlow the only person completely amazed by the tiny creatures, then? “There are so many of them along the empty stretches of beach. You’ll love it. And I’m sure Cort won’t mind carrying Andy.”
“Oh, um . . .” With wide eyes, Pixie lifted a hand, then let it drop. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt a date between you two.”
“Nonsense. He’ll enjoy it.” Marlow felt certain of that. “And Andy will get some fresh air. Babies need fresh air.” That had to be true. “It’ll be a nice evening out. Not too late, of course. I don’t want to throw off your schedule.” She stopped in the middle of releasing her seat belt. “Will it hurt the schedule? I have no idea.”
Slowly, a smile spread over Pixie’s face. She released her own belt and twisted to look over the seat at Andy. “It’ll be fine, and I’m already excited thinking about it.”
Such a simple thing, but the joy on Pixie’s face couldn’t be feigned. Marlow vowed to herself that she’d arrange more days like this one, no matter what.
She and Pixie deserved it.
And at the end of the summer, if both of them weren’t able to stay, well then, she’d find permanent housing for them nearby. Living just outside Bramble would be almost as nice as living within it.
One way or another, she wanted to continue her relationship with Cort, with Pixie, and with sweet little Andy.
Funny that she’d left so much behind . . . but found so much more in her new life.
* * *
Not only company but shopping and then ice cream. Pixie couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such an awesome day. Excited to visit the store, she started to open her car door, but Marlow reached over and touched her arm.
“You look so happy, I hate to burst your bubble, but while Andy is still sleeping, there’s one more thing I want to discuss.”
Pixie just knew what it would be. “You talked to Andy’s grandma, didn’t you?”
The funniest expression fell over Marlow’s face before she grinned. “Sandra, a grandma. I can almost see her reaction to that.”
Pixie felt a little sick, and all of her happiness leached away. “She wouldn’t like it, would she?”
“Well, I feel certain she won’t like the term grandma , but as to whether or not she’ll enjoy being one, who knows? We won’t find out until you tell her.”
What a relief. “So she doesn’t know yet?”
“No, but . . .”
Unsure what Marlow was getting at, Pixie asked, “It was her snooping around?”
“Someone she hired, yes. The person was supposed to be checking up on me. Sandra seems to think I’m having a midlife crisis, and she sounded genuinely concerned about me.” For a second, Marlow appeared baffled by that, but then she shook it off. “My guess is that she doesn’t want me to screw up too badly, because then it would reflect back on the Heddings family, and ultimately on Dylan. She wants to protect his ‘legacy.’”
“But you never screw up.” Pixie couldn’t imagine such a thing. As far as she could tell, Marlow was perfect.
“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Marlow said, grinning, “but believe me, I’ve made plenty of mistakes. Being in this town isn’t one of them.” Her voice softened. “And neither is being your friend.”
How could she stay gloomy when Marlow said things like that? “I’m honored.”
Marlow drew a deep breath. “The thing is . . .” She winced. “When I spoke with Sandra, the conversation veered a little and she made a few assumptions—about you, I mean. I’m afraid I defended you.”
And that was a problem? Whether she deserved it or not, Pixie was thrilled to have someone like Marlow on her side. “Okay?” she said, making it a question because she didn’t understand.
“Sandra is smart. Brilliant even. A lot of people underestimate her. I’ve seen it happen dozens of times. They think she’s just the pampered wife of Mr. Heddings, without realizing the power Sandra has. She sees things that others don’t, and that means she’ll quickly realize I must know you, since I automatically defended you.”
“Oh.” That would definitely bring more trouble to Marlow. “I’m sorry.” Her apologies seemed to be stuck on repeat. Every day, five times a day, she found reasons to say those small words that didn’t begin to convey the remorse she felt for complicating the lives of others.
Exasperated, Marlow shook her head. “Pixie, we’re friends now. You have nothing to apologize for, but I do. If I’d been thinking, I would have simply ended the call. Now, I’m afraid I just ratcheted up her anger at you.”
“Because I was with Dylan?”
“Because you, as the woman he cheated with, are proof that Dylan wasn’t perfect. Sandra’s already having a really hard time with everything. This is going to put her over the edge.”
Shame scorched Pixie from her head to her toes. She tried her best not to dwell on it, but she’d slept with this amazing woman’s husband . She’d been a complete fool, believing someone like Dylan would love her. Worse, she’d had the audacity to beg Marlow for help.
Before Pixie could even think of how to reply, Marlow spoke again.
“Don’t you dare apologize. It’ll seriously piss me off if you do.”
Hearing Marlow curse startled her enough that the awful truth of her mistakes blipped right out of her mind. “Okay,” she whispered.
“I mean it, Pixie. You’ve apologized enough, and I don’t fault you. Sandra has this skewed impression of her son, as if he was a saint. Trust me, she wasn’t fond of me either when I decided to divorce him. Actually, she was never all that fond of me, and I’m not going to take that personally anymore. In her eyes, I doubt anyone would have been good enough for Dylan. As astute as Sandra is in business, she’s blind to her son’s failings. Or maybe she sees his failings as her own as his mother, so she can’t accept them for that reason. I don’t know, and I’m tired of trying to figure her out.”
“I can’t imagine her not being thrilled with you.” What more could Sandra have wanted in a daughter-in-law?
“Thank you. You’re sweet. Now, I want your word that if anyone representing the Heddings family contacts you, you’ll let me know.”
It would be wrong to do that, another imposition, but Pixie knew turning to Marlow would be her gut reaction, especially if she felt threatened. For better or worse, she trusted Marlow, and she relied on her. “I promise.” Soon, she told herself, she’d stand on her own two feet. But not yet.
Marlow wasn’t finished. “If you decide to face Sandra and Aston, if you choose to tell them about Andy, I’d like to be with you.”
Such a generous offer. “I’d like that, too.” She couldn’t imagine facing them alone.
“Well, then.” Marlow shared a relieved smile with her. “I’m glad we’re past that. Let’s shop!”
* * *
When Cort got to Marlow’s house, he was surprised, but also pleased, to find her and Pixie fixing dinner in the kitchen together. When Marlow had called earlier to say she’d like to eat with him, her treat, he had assumed she’d order pizza, or maybe want to head back to The Docker restaurant.
Instead, after knocking and hearing her call out, “Come on in,” he opened the door to the scent of seasoned pork chops baking and the sound of women laughing.
Heading through the foyer to the kitchen, he found potatoes boiling on the stove while Pixie stood at the counter making a salad with a lot of different greens, tomatoes, onions, and cucumbers. Marlow had just turned the pork chops, then returned them to the oven.
His mouth watered, and it wasn’t just the food. It was this, a small family gathering, the unity and cozy warmth.
They were things he hadn’t even realized were missing from his life.
Marlow glanced up, her soft brown eyes smiling at him. “Hi. Just in time. Dinner is almost ready.”
He noticed the table was set for three and that Andy was on a blanket in the family room, where both women could see him contentedly gumming a new soft toy.
Cort went to the stove, where Marlow poked the potatoes with a fork. Her light brown hair, now with natural highlights from the sun, was in a thick braid hanging over her shoulder. The back of her neck was enticingly bared, so he pressed a kiss there. “Smells great.” The food—and her.
She tipped her head to give him better access. “I hope it tastes good, too.”
He took a soft, quick love bite near her shoulder and hummed. “Definitely does.”
Pixie turned away from them, but not before Cort saw her grin.
It was overly familiar of him, but why not? This all felt like a very familiar moment, so he stepped up to Pixie next and put a peck on her temple. “Hey, Pixie.”
Her face went bright pink, but she smiled hugely. “Hey, back.”
He started to ask what he should do to help, but then Andy started to fuss. “Could I hold him while you finish up?”
Pixie’s brows lifted. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all.” He quickly washed his hands, then gathered up the baby, blanket and all, and took a seat at the kitchen table. “It gives me an excuse to sit while you two work.”
Marlow sent him the warmest smile he’d ever gotten from her. “You’ve already worked today, and you still plan to put up lights. Dinner is the least we could do.”
“Everything is about done anyway,” Pixie said.
“I’ll mash the potatoes, then we can eat.”
He loved how she and Pixie meshed, the protectiveness Marlow couldn’t hide, and the hero worship Pixie displayed. “Mashed potatoes. I haven’t had those since my mom last made them.”
“No fair,” Marlow said. “I can’t compare to a mother’s home cooking.”
Pixie said, “Ha! Pretty sure you can do anything.” Then she caught herself and sent Cort a horrified glance of apology. “Not that your mother’s cooking wouldn’t have been—”
“She was a good cook,” Cort interrupted, to spare her. “But I agree. Pressure is on, Marlow. Pixie and I both expect excellence.”
“I’ll do my best,” she quipped back, not at all bothered.
Of course, she wouldn’t be. Overall, Marlow proved immune to pressure. Immune to stress and change. She amazed him. Bowled him over, even, and after his time serving in the Marines with some phenomenal men, that was no easy feat. “Soon as we finish, I’ll have to get to work on the lights.” He wanted Marlow safe, and he wanted Pixie to feel secure.
“Isn’t he the best?” Marlow asked as she added butter and milk to the potatoes.
And Pixie replied, “For sure.” Then more quietly, “But I hate being such a bother.”
Together, they replied, “You aren’t.” Then they even grinned in sync.
Dinner, of course, was incredible, and they told her so. Marlow accepted their praise graciously, but then, a woman like her was surely used to accolades.
It was the little compliments he and Herman gave her, truths all of them, that she seemed to enjoy the most.
It still surprised Cort that she could be so content in Bramble. Every day, he expected her to announce that she’d be leaving, either heading back to her city life or accepting a great job offer.
Instead, each day she became more entrenched in the town. She won people over with little effort—himself included. Herman couldn’t say enough good things about her. The siblings admired everything about her, especially the way she’d befriended Pixie and Andy.
He was in awe of that, too.
As a woman of means, she could have simply presented Pixie with a check and sent her on her way. Doing so would have been beyond generous. Instead, she’d gotten personally involved. She’d given Pixie a greater gift than money.
Hope. Purpose. And acceptance. She’d offered a guiding hand, had become both a resource and an emotional supporter.
In the process, Marlow had completely stolen his heart.
It wasn’t easy to remember, so Cort had to continually remind himself that she’d moved here to escape the chaos of conflict and emotional pain. She was here to ground herself, to start anew. In no way did Marlow appear a victim. A little wounded sometimes, but she’d shown herself to be practical, capable, quick-witted, and fun loving. She embraced life, taking from it what she could but giving back so much more.
And she’d shared that outlook with Pixie.
He thought of his mother, how broken she’d been, emotionally, spiritually, as well as physically. Thanks to Marlow, Pixie now had better prospects, an admirable role model, and her confidence grew every day.
For years, rage would infuse Cort whenever he thought about what his dad had put them through, how badly his mother had suffered, but the Marines had helped him get that anger under control. Now when memories gripped him, which they did far too often, he gave thanks that the two of them had moved here, that his mother had had good friends who’d loved her and helped her to heal.
These people had all championed her, and it had made a world of difference.
Pixie, on the other hand, had Marlow, and Cort thought that relationship just might be as impactful as the love of an entire town.
He was so lost in thought, it took him a moment to realize that the women were smiling at him. “Did I miss something?”
Marlow laughed quietly.
Pixie said, “You cleared your plate—and you’re still holding Andy.”
Yes, he was, because he’d insisted. The baby was a warm, gentle weight against his chest. Eating one-handed hadn’t been a problem. “I like holding him.”
“You’re good at it. Have you been around a lot of babies?”
What an idea. “No.”
Pixie tipped her head. “You’re a natural, then.”
Marlow shrugged. “He’s a Marine, remember.”
That seemed to be her go-to explanation of his thoughts, or his abilities. True, most of his Marine brothers were strong, honorable men who’d taken to family life. His best bud . . .
No, he blocked that thought. Or tried to.
Now it was there, digging in and bringing along the familiar guilt.
Marlow touched his shoulder. “What is it?”
Usually he would play it off, avoid the truth. He didn’t want to lie to Marlow, though. Not ever. So he said, “Just a bad memory.”
Pixie crossed her arms on the table and studied him. “From your time as a Marine?”
Again, surprising himself, he said, “Yeah,” and then he looked down at Andy’s angelic face. “He has the cutest little nose.” The attempt to divert them didn’t work, at least not completely.
Pixie asked, “Do you have a good memory you could share?” To explain her question, she said, “That’s what I do. When I start to remember how scared I was when I was sick, not knowing where to go or what to do, I try to think of a good memory instead and then concentrate on that.”
Slowly, Cort nodded. It was a solid plan, so he went with it. “Good memory it is.” He thought for only a second, then knew what he’d share. “When we first came here, I wasn’t sure what to expect. We’d never been part of a real community before.” No, they’d lived in places that forced a person to concentrate on survival—but that was another bad memory. “Everyone was quirky, open, and friendly in a way I hadn’t seen before. Folks were good to Mom, and good to me.” Without thinking about it, he cuddled Andy a little closer. “In no time at all, Bramble felt like home, when nothing else had before.”
Pixie and Marlow shared a look, and then Pixie said, “To me, too. It confused me at first.”
“You weren’t used to trust,” Marlow said. “Either of you. I’m glad Bramble is the kind of place that lets you trust again.”
Did he trust? Cort trusted her, definitely. And Herman, who in many ways was like a father figure to him. The siblings could easily be his eccentric aunts and uncle. Letting the realization sink in, he nodded. “You’re right. The people here are easier to trust.”
“They’re good people,” Marlow agreed. “Not perfect, because no one is, but I’ve found them all to be genuine.”
Pixie looked down for a moment. “After Dylan . . .” Her voice faded, but when neither he nor Marlow pressed her, she started again. “I felt really used, and that made me feel gullible, too. Like the biggest stooge alive.”
“Pixie,” Marlow started to say, ready to comfort her.
She shook her head. “I should’ve asked Dylan about providing for the baby, but I was just so mad at him . . . And embarrassed that I’d been so easy . . . And I honestly thought I’d be able to take care of myself.” She rolled her eyes. “None of that made any sense once I started getting sick, but by then it was too late.” She looked up at Cort. “That’s a bad memory, I guess. Sorry.”
“It was his loss,” Cort put in. “He screwed up with Marlow, and with you. He spent his last days being angry and making himself miserable, and in the end, he lost not one but two terrific women.”
Marlow smiled her agreement. “Perfect way to look at it.”
“I came to that conclusion about my father, too.” Understandably, both women went quiet again. Cort didn’t share personal stuff very often, but something about sitting here with these two special women, holding an innocent baby after a delicious home-cooked meal, made it feel just right. “My father spent his life drunk and angry. Mean and abusive. Sometimes I wonder what made him that way, if he had a really hard life before meeting Mom, and maybe he didn’t know any other way.”
“It’s possible,” Marlow agreed. “But that doesn’t excuse it.”
“No, it doesn’t. I don’t mourn his death. If anything, I’m glad he died when he did, because it gave Mom a chance to find peace.”
Pixie, a little lost because she didn’t know his history, tried to quietly leave the table.
“It’s okay,” Cort told her. “If you talk to a few people around here, you’ll hear about it.”
Pixie shook her head. “I respect you and Marlow too much to ever pry.”
“I admire that, but around here, no prying is necessary.”
“It’s true,” Marlow said. “I need to take you to the tavern where I work. They have a photo of Cort on the wall in his uniform.” She glanced at him, then added, “Looking very handsome, by the way.”
“That seems like a lifetime ago.” In the shortest way possible, he gave Pixie a rundown on his childhood. Predictably, tears welled in her eyes. She had to be one of the most tenderhearted young women he’d ever met, and damned if her vulnerability didn’t make him feel like a very protective big brother. A novel emotion, for sure. “Hey, I got through it, and luckily, nothing like that will ever happen to Andy.”
She nodded. “I’m determined that he’ll have a good life.”
“We’ll make sure of it,” Marlow said.
And that, of course, was why Cort loved her.
* * *
While Pixie nursed Andy in her bedroom and Cort got busy with the new lights, Marlow cleaned up the kitchen. The domestic routine was nice, especially since both of her dinner partners had tried to insist on helping. She’d been just as insistent that they were guests, and of course, she’d won in the end.
Just as she finished up, Pixie rejoined her in the kitchen with Andy now wide awake and smiling. “Thank you so much. I think that was the best meal I’ve ever had, especially with the great company.”
“We’ll do it more often,” Marlow promised.
“I should get Andy home now. It’s time for his bath.”
“I can drive you—”
“No, I’ll walk. It’s not far, and it’s a beautiful evening.”
Marlow glanced at the clock. It’d be light for some time yet. “You’re feeling strong enough?”
“I feel amazing, inside and out.”
Wonderful! Watching Pixie bloom was one of the most satisfying things Marlow had ever experienced. “All right, if you’re sure.” She walked with her to the door, where Cort, on a ladder, was adding the new, brighter lighting.
When he heard the plan, he glanced up to Pixie’s house, then apparently came to the same conclusion as Marlow. “I’ll be up in about an hour to change your lights, too. Will that disturb Andy?”
“No, we’ll be fine. And Cort? Thank you. For everything.”
“I’m the landlord,” he said, already back at work.
Pixie didn’t give up. “I meant for the conversation over dinner, too. Being here with you two, almost like a family . . . it’s a meal I’ll always remember.” Holding Andy in his carrier with one hand, the diaper bag over her shoulder, Pixie headed off across the lawn.
“She’s overloaded,” Marlow fretted.
“She’s fine,” he corrected. “She doesn’t have that far to go, and she’s feeling steady again. I bet she’s enjoying a little independence, being able to do for herself. It’s how you or I would feel.”
Very true. “She appreciates everything.” Marlow didn’t want to think she’d ever taken her life for granted, but had she truly appreciated each and every special moment? “I want to be her family.”
Cort glanced down at her. “Is that so?”
“An older sister, and an aunt to Andy. We discussed that today, before a fun shopping trip.”
His brows lifted, then he smiled and got back to work. “Glad to hear it.”
“I can only imagine what my mother-in-law will think, once she finds out that Pixie and I are friends.”
“I think it’s a blessing Pixie found you.”
“A blessing for her—and for me,” Marlow agreed.
“Might as well count me in there, too.” He started down the ladder. “I’m enjoying it all as well.”
Marlow moved out of his way, but when he reached the ground, he dropped his tools and gathered her into his arms. “Pixie is right. Dinner was great, not only delicious but incredible company, too.”
“Like family?” she asked, searching his gaze. Had Cort had many family meals? From what she knew, it was just he and his mom, and after an awful childhood, he’d spent a lot of his time serving in the Marines.
His broad chest expanded as he inhaled a slow breath. “I never knew much about family, really, other than my mom. She and I ate a lot of meals together whenever I was home. It was nice, but in a totally different way.”
Thrilled to have him open up a little, Marlow silently waited.
His forehead touched hers. “My best bud in the Marines was a family guy.”
Was . Her heart thumped heavily, and her stomach clenched. She could tell this was a bad memory, maybe the one Cort had been thinking of at dinner.
From the day she’d arrived, he’d been there for her. She wished she could have been there for him, too.
Lightly, she kissed him, then without a word, she wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. She waited for his usual inscrutable reaction. Maybe he’d hug her and then get back to work. Whatever he chose to do, or not do, she wouldn’t pressure him, because he’d never pressured her.
Then suddenly, he held her closer with her face tucked under his chin so she couldn’t look at him. “There was a deadly Osprey accident when I was stationed in North Carolina. I was supposed to be there, on that flight, but I’d left earlier that day to be with my mother.”
Marlow’s throat tightened with dread. She nestled against him, which was all she could do in her current position.
His voice was still strong and steady, but she felt the pain in the words as he spoke. “Mom’s doctor had called, saying she might not make it through the night, so I was granted emergency leave.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “You had to be with her.”
He gave a single nod. “I was by her bedside when the Osprey left for Pensacola. Along the way, there was a catastrophic mechanical failure, and it went down.” His throat worked as he swallowed heavily. “Everyone on board died.”
Marlow didn’t mean to, but a gasp escaped her, prompting him to kiss her temple.
“Twelve Marines died, including my best friend, Nathan.” Silence stretched out. “He left behind a wife and two little kids.”
Breathing was difficult when all she wanted to do was sob. “I’m sorry, so sorry,” she managed to choke out. Good God, this was painful. She felt Cort’s agony, and his undeserved guilt.
“It should have been me, Marlow. I was supposed to be on that flight.”
“ No .” Somehow she got out of his arms and glared up at him, furious that he would say such a thing. His expression was severe, yet wounded, softening her reaction. “No, Cort,” she whispered.
“My mother died that night, too. I didn’t have anyone else, but Nathan had a family who needed him.”
I need you , she wanted to shout, but it wouldn’t be fair to put that on him. “Everyone in this town needs you. Don’t you know that?”
He started to turn away, but she knotted her hands in his shirt and did her best to bring him back around. She succeeded only because he let her. “I’m not a badass Marine, so I can’t pretend to know how you feel. But I know it hurts, I swear I do.”
His gaze veered from hers, but she brought it right back with a gentle touch to his cheek. “How is Nathan’s wife now? His kids?”
“She remarried a few months ago. She seems happy. The kids are doing great. They’ve all . . . adjusted.” He crushed Marlow against him. “They’re both girls, cute as hell. Everyone is okay. I see that, and I’m glad.” His mouth firmed, and his nostrils flared on a ragged breath. “I’m also aware of what he lost.”
“It was tragic,” she said, wishing there was a way to ease him. “All those heroes—”
“Brothers,” he said. “Good men.”
He was a good man. She had to make him see that. “That describes you, too, Cort. You are the finest man I’ve ever known.”
He made a sound of disgust.
“It’s true!” With one hand still knotted in his shirt, she thumped his chest. “This town is amazing, but you’re a big part of what makes it that way. Your mother’s life started out awful, but it ended happily because of you.” She released him just long enough to swipe away her tears. “Don’t you dare downplay your worth.” Her voice broke. “Not to me.”
Brows coming together, he whispered incredulously, “You’re crying ?”
“So? I’m allowed.” She swallowed heavily, and more tears welled up. Damn it, now she understood why tears frustrated Pixie so much. But if there was ever a reason to cry, this was it. To see this strong, capable, caring man suffering such awful guilt . . . She’d cry buckets for him, whether he liked it or not.
“Babe, don’t.” Gently now, he cuddled her to his chest. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have unloaded on you.”
“Gah!” Taking him by surprise, Marlow shoved him back, nearly tripping herself in the process. She saw his shocked face, and it only angered her more. “I want you to unload on me!” She pressed a fist to her chest. “I want you to share with me. Trust me. Include me.”
“Marlow?”
“Don’t you dare look confused! There’s no way you don’t know that I’m . . .” Falling in love with you . She sucked in a startled breath. They stared at each other, both of them silent.
She wasn’t falling. Oh, no.
She was flat on her face, completely and thoroughly in love with Cort Easton.
And she didn’t even know if she’d get to stay in Bramble.
“Good God,” she breathed, feeling as bewildered as he looked. Hastily, she stepped up to him again and tried to sound like a logical woman as she—nicely this time—embraced him. “Thank you for telling me, Cort. I mean that. I love that you shared with me. Please, always feel free. I want you to.”
Cautiously, his hands came to her back.
The poor man probably didn’t know if she’d explode on him again. “Of course, I’m heartbroken for you, too, and for the men who lost their lives.” To think he’d been carrying this burden all alone. That was the worst part. “The thing is, Cort, I’m so very, very glad you’re still here. Not just in this town but in the entire world, because I swear, it’s better with you in it.”
He stroked his hands up and down her back as if to soothe a wild animal. “I’m glad you’re here, too, in Bramble.”
“With you.” She tipped her head back. “Say it.”
For long moments he just stared down into her wet eyes, then he growled, “With me,” and punctuated the words with a kiss that seemed to put everything right.
His hands cupped her face as he deepened the kiss. He let up long enough to reiterate, “I’m glad you’re here with me.” Then he took her mouth again.
Marlow groaned. God, it felt good to be wanted by Cort. So good that she wouldn’t have stopped, but he was a responsible guy—a Marine, she reminded herself—so when he gradually eased up, she slumped against him, trying to catch her breath.
His thumb brushed her cheek, then her damp bottom lip. “I’ll make you a deal.”
“I live for deals,” she quipped back, feeling a little unsteady on her feet.
His mouth curled in one of those small smiles she cherished. “How about you stop trying to conquer the world, and I’ll try to deal with my guilt?”
“Or,” she said, loving him so much it almost hurt, “we could just be imperfectly human together.” For now. Tomorrow. Possibly. . . forever .
“See. You always have a solid plan.”
Wasn’t easy, but she managed to stand upright entirely on her own.
He bent to pick up a tool. “Marlow?”
“Hmm?”
As he started back up the ladder, he said, “I care a hell of a lot about you, too.”
Her heart floated. It wasn’t a declaration of love, but for a man like Cort, it was a lot.
And as he’d said, she didn’t need to conquer the world—just this small part of it. As far as she was concerned, she was making excellent progress.