California Dreaming: Four Contemporary Romances (78 page)

“How’d he take it?”

Alicia navigated the turn up the driveway to the inn. “As an insult to his manhood, But he got over it quickly. I saw him wrapped around one of my friends a few days later.”

“Some friend.”

“That’s how it was.” Alicia pulled the car to a stop.

Sarah glanced at her own car with sadness. It was getting a layer of leaf dust. Alicia’s little outing had been great, but Sarah was getting restless and she had months to go. A memory tickled her brain.

“Alicia, can you do me a favor? I mean, more than you’ve already done, which was wonderful.”

“Of course.” Alicia fumbled for her seatbelt, her large stomach getting in the way.

“Let me,” Sarah said. She smiled at Alicia and unhooked her. A thread of pleasure warmed her body. Having a sister wasn’t going to be the worst thing.

Alicia helped Sarah get settled back in her bed. “That was fun. Want to do it again next week?”

“Depends on the weather. Somehow the beach in pouring rain doesn’t sound appealing.”

Alicia laughed. “No. But then we can do something else — a game?”

“Ooh! I love games! My mother doesn’t, but my father did.” As soon as she said it, Sarah stopped talking. Alicia would like games. They had the same father.

Alicia stepped toward her and put her hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “I know it must be painful for you, but it wasn’t my fault. Or yours either. I hope you can accept that.”

A tear slipped from Sarah’s eye. “I know. It’s hard to believe he could lie to us like that.”

“I think he didn’t know what to do. He was trying to do what people said was the right thing. But it wasn’t where his heart was. So he tried to do both.”

Sarah brushed the tears from her eyes. Was that what she was attempting? Do the right thing when it didn’t fit what she wanted? “Thanks. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

Alicia hugged her. “I’ll see you next week.”

“It’s a date.” Sarah laughed, feeling lighter.

Alicia made it to the entryway before she turned around. “Oh. What did you need?”

“Oh, yeah.” Sarah dug in her purse for her car keys. “In my trunk there’s a cardboard box. Can you bring it in for me? It shouldn’t be too heavy for you.”

A few minutes later, Alicia deposited the box next to Sarah and waved good-bye.

Sarah unfolded the lid of the box she’d discovered in the closet weeks before. Letters bundled in ribbon filled the container halfway. She picked up a bundle, opened it, and began to read.

Since the incident on Thursday night, Hunter had stayed away from the inn except to sleep. The scene had been exactly what he’d be trying to avoid. He’d messed up Sarah’s relationship with Rick and had nothing to offer in return. He’d spent the intervening time seeking peace with what he could create with his hands.

Hunter stared at the wood he’d found at the back of a lumber yard that Sunday morning. The owner had wanted to make room, and he gave Hunter a good deal. Hunter had lugged it back to Joe’s shop, but still didn’t know what he was going to do with it.

“How you doing?” Joe stuck his head in the back workroom.

“Fine.”

“Yeah. Imagine that. Things going well with the innkeeper?”

“I told you, she’s not available.”

“Yeah, that’s what you keep telling me. Except you kiss her. Then she hugs you.” Joe popped open a beer and handed it to Hunter. “Boyfriend still in the picture?”

Hunter grimaced. “Not sure.”

“Have you talked to her since?” Joe asked.

Hunter shook his head.

“You got to do it, man. It’s a bitch for us to talk about our feelings, but women like to stew over things — chew our asses, too, if we deserve it.”

“It’s not like that, Joe.”

“How do you know?”

Hunter began to put away his tools. “She made it perfectly clear what she wants to do.”

“What she wants to do or what she thinks she
should
do?”

“Isn’t that the same?”

Joe shook his head and took a sip of beer. “I know when Mary gets all wrapped up in what she should be doing, even if she doesn’t want to do it, my life goes to hell. Now,” he pointed his finger at Hunter, “I’m not talking about taking care of the kids or the house. No, it’s more like when someone asks her to be on a committee and she agrees. Mary hates committees.”

“Smart woman.”

“I always thought so.” Joe grinned. “So which is it — something she wants to do or something she thinks she should do?”

Hunter thought for a moment and then shook his head. “I don’t know. Yeah, she feels like she should get back with the father of her child, even if he is a pissant — ”

“That good?”

“You saw him. Reminds me of Marty, you know, the guy in seventh grade gym class?”

Joe laughed. “Yeah. Always trying to make himself more important than he was.”

“Like that. Still, them getting back together seems like the right thing. Two parents are better than one and all that.”

“Depends on the parents. You should know that.”

Hunter put the last tool away and turned to Joe. “What’s the work schedule like this week?”

Joe accepted his move to change the subject. ““Complete the Miller house tomorrow and then I’ve got something more to your liking most of the week — finishing cabinet work at one of the places up the hill. Why?”

“I got an appointment on Friday at the VA.”

“Not a problem. See your parents after that?”

“I suppose I should.” Hunter grinned at Joe ironically. “Even if I don’t want to. Some obligations you just don’t escape.”

“I hear that, bro.”

They clinked their cans, turned out the lights, and left the building.

• • •

Early Friday morning Hunter took the long way up to San Francisco. March was a good time to spot whales on their migration north.

He’d picked a good day for a drive up the coast. Spring breezes brought a chill to the air, but they also cleared the fog and mist. Broken monoliths of rock disappeared under thundering waves and the lighthouse at Pigeon Point glinted in the sun.

He stopped a while to watch the kiteboarders north of Waddell Creek and his excitement began to grow. Who knew what he’d be able to do with the new leg?

As he drove, music blaring, he let his mind drift over the past few years. There had been so many letdowns: the loss of his leg, finding out Lauren had been married, returning home to realize nothing had really changed between him and his parents.

Now he was hung up on a pregnant innkeeper who was trying to repair relations with her ex-boyfriend. The universe sure had a weird sense of humor.

Should he make another try for her? Was Rick out of the picture after that disastrous night?

Fate was a harsh mistress. Lauren had died without telling the truth to him. Rick had thrown out his girlfriend and was being given a second chance. Hunter had been prevented from suicide by a kid on a bike.

He glanced at the glove box. He really needed to get rid of that gun. Should he give it back to his father?

Not a chance.

A few hours later, he pulled into a parking place close to the Medical Center. He locked the Jeep and took a deep breath before he crossed the street. An hour later, he walked out with nothing.

They couldn’t help him.

Basic functions my ass. Whatever happened to quality of life?

He couldn’t see his parents in this frame of mind. He’d use the gun on his father and then turn it on himself.

He really needed to get rid of that thing.

Once over the Golden Gate, he headed off to the Marin Headlands. The raw land, remnants of bunkers, and vista of the Pacific stretching out forever would do for now.

He followed the winding way to the top, parked, and got to the highest point he could reach. The wind buffeted him, a hint of salt lingering from its long trip from the ocean’s surface. He sat down on the wind-mown grass and stared across the Pacific.

For a moment, he’d had hope that things might change.

When he was a kid, he believed God hid in the ocean, keeping an eye on all his creatures, cresting like a whale when He needed to check on the other critters.

Where are You now?

No booming voice replied, but Hunter continued to stare. Tight spots in the desert happened often. Everyone had their own way to pray and their own being to curse when the worst happened. The often repeated statement had been true — there were no atheists in foxholes.

What happened when a soldier returned? Hunter’s viewpoint was unexplainable to civilians, even if he wanted to make the attempt. His wartime buddies were scattered. Ghosts haunted his dreams and phantoms pretended they were limbs.

Who could he possibly share his life with? No one would understand.

Sarah.

Despite what the world threw at her, she picked herself up and kept going. He could learn a lot from her strength and give her someone to lean on when times got tough.

He scowled.

If only Rick would get out of the way.

Hunter’s head began to hurt. He wasn’t used to thinking this much.

As he stood he remembered the biker at Mt. Tam. She’d gotten her specialized leg at Cal Poly and said they’d already come up with something for amputees to ride the surf.

He grinned. He wasn’t out of the game yet.

Maybe God had answered him after all.

The visit with his mother was brief and his father wasn’t around to harass him. After a stilted conversation served with a cup of tea, Hunter made his good-byes and headed south. Traffic through the city was clogged, as always, and he spent the time waiting for lights noting which homes had gotten coats of paint since his last trip down Nineteenth Avenue.

The road finally spilled into Highway 280 and he cranked up the music, enjoying the open road as it wove through the foothills south of the city, hills that hid the mansions of the area’s elite.

An eye on the descending sun, he opted to stay on the highway and an hour later, he pulled into the gravel driveway of the inn. Only Sarah’s neglected Subaru wagon stood in the parking lot.

He pulled out the cartons of steaming Chinese he’d picked up in town. He’d brought enough for two, just in case. Time to make amends.

“Anyone home?” he called as he opened the door.

“Only me.” Sarah responded from the living room.

Hunter stuck his head around the corner and dangled the fragrant bags. “In the mood for Chinese?”

Daisy barked.

A broad smile creased her face. “How did you know? I’m starving!”

“Of course you are. You’re pregnant. I’ll dish it up and be right back.”

Daisy woofed again and he grinned. “No Chinese for you girl. But come into the kitchen and I’ll make sure you have food and water.”

“Do you think we should eat in here?” Sarah asked. “You could roll the chair into the kitchen. Too bad the dining room table hasn’t come yet.”

He knew she’d found the piece she wanted online and it was due to come in a few weeks.

Turning, he went back to the living room. “Where would you like to eat … since we don’t have a dining room table, madam?” His lips twitched into a grin.

“I think right here.” She gestured at a small television he hadn’t noticed before. “Mom sent Alicia instructions to get me a television.”

His grin broadened. “Find something to watch and I’ll be back.”

Setting up her tray only took a few minutes and by the time he’d come back, she’d found an old movie, chick flick from the looks of it. He placed her tray in her lap and then found a small stand from the stack Mandy had brought with her. Placing it in front of the couch, he set his own meal on it and sat down. From where he was he could see the curve of Sarah’s jaw, a line that was getting soft with pregnancy.

The change only made her more attractive.

“This is sooo good,” she said after finishing an eggroll. “I’m sure I’ll gain ten pounds, but I don’t care right now.”

He chuckled. The mood was so relaxed he was reluctant to bring up the question burning in his mind. Seeing her smile at one of the humorous moments in the movie he decided to wait and let himself drift into the simple story line.

“Ahh,” she sighed when the movie was over and he stood to take her tray. “If only life could be that simple.”

“If only we had scriptwriters who told other people what to do and say,” he countered.

She laughed. “You’ve got a point.”

He cleaned up the rest of the dishes and stacked the dishwasher. Sarah was leafing through a magazine when he returned.

Time to assess the damage.
“Have you heard from Rick over the last week?”

Sarah had been dreading the question, although she’d known Hunter would ask it sooner or later. “No.”

He leaned against the wall. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to screw up your relationship.”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault. I should have thought before I hugged you, but I didn’t think he’d show up early. Still, it was the wrong thing to do.”

Hunter sat cross-legged on the floor next to the lounge. “It wasn’t wrong. I think he over-reacted.”

“What would you have done?”

The scowl on his face told her.

“See?” She fumbled for something to say next.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked.

She considered him, his sharp green eyes reminding her of how much he saw. He was always taking care of the small things around the inn, often without her asking. She forced herself to look away before her gaze to slipped to his lips and the memory of their touch on hers.

She jerked her gaze away again. “My mom sent me to a life coach.”

“What the hell is that?”

Sarah chuckled. “Someone who helps you sort through your thoughts, decide what you want, and put it into action.”

“You need someone to help you do that?” Hunter capped his hands on one knee and stretched his prosthetic under her chair.

She tried not to think about his proximity. “In my case, yes.”

“So what has this person helped you decide?”

Sarah shifted in her chair. All this sitting was making her damned uncomfortable. She hoped her at her next appointment the doctor would release her, at least a little more.