Snowflake Bay (4 page)

“So . . . you're opening up shop here then? In the Cove?”

She laughed again, more openly this time. “You sound so disturbed at the very idea. Pretty much the same reaction I got from my clients and fellow designers when I told them what I was doing. Which just cemented, really, the decision to go. Maybe the bigger surprise is that I lasted as long as I did.” She leaned a hip against the center island and, finally, for the first time, felt at ease and relaxed with him.
Why was that so hard?
“Have you become a landscaping design snob down there in Rhode Island?”

“No,” he said, chuckling. “I didn't mean it like that. I—” He broke off, and his smile shifted to that endearing grin she'd seen him use more times than she could count, mostly when he wanted someone to forget or at least forgive whatever it was he'd just said. It had been charming on the boy he'd once been. It was downright irresistible on the man he'd become. “I'm sure you'll bring that same dedication and passion to whatever you decide to do here, and folks will love it. You've got hometown advantage working for you, too, so you already have a leg up. It's not like you have to win anyone over.”

“I'm hoping so, though I might have to convince them that I'm not here to citify up their homes or work spaces. People in the Cove might lead far simpler lives—and thank God for it—but that's where I think my brand of creative design truly fits in.”

“You can take the girl out of the small town, but . . .” he said, leaving the rest of the line unspoken.

“Something like that, yeah. But city, country, coast, wherever the place, everyone wants their space to reflect who they are. In the city, too often they wanted their space to reflect who they wanted other people to think they were. It was all about prestige and one-upping each other. I want to design for folks who simply want their space to make them happy, so they feel good and content inside their own four walls. It sounds simple, and it can be, but not everyone knows how to achieve that. It's not about having deep pockets. In fact, that's the part of the challenge I like best. Finding ways to turn nothing into something, purely with creative design, repurposing, redesigning . . .” She trailed off, her grin turning more self-deprecating. “Big talk, small plans.”

“Sounds like a good, solid combination to me.”

“Are you thinking about doing the same thing? Combining your work and your parents' farm all in one place?”

But, before he could answer, and before she could decide how she'd feel if she knew Ben Campbell was back in the Blueberry Cove area for good, Logan's big, lumberjack-size frame came bursting through the mudroom door and into the kitchen. His face split wide in a happy, welcoming grin as he spotted Ben, as did Ben's, she noted, her own gaze ping-ponging back and forth.

“Might have known I'd find you here raiding my fridge and picking on my kid sister,” Logan said. “The other one here is engaged, by the way, so don't get any funny ideas.”

“What's funny is the idea that some woman shackled herself to you for life. How much did you have to pay her?”

“I seduced her with my lighthouse,” Logan said with an unrepentant grin.

“Well, at least you had something of phallic substance to give her.”

Fiona rolled her eyes at their easy return to the kind of banter that was their norm. The two shared an equally manly back-slapping, head-knuckling embrace, and she smiled at the real joy she saw being shared in the grins, the laughter, and the wisecracks so easily traded between them.

Alex came bustling into the kitchen just then, and her pretty face lit up at the sight of her husband, as it always did.

“Come here,” Logan said, reaching a hand out to her. “I want you to meet the guy who tried to drown me when we were nine.”

Alex laughed as she took Logan's hand and let him pull her to his side, and be tucked under one arm. “We already met,” she said, then added, “but if I'd known that, I'd have let him push that dresser all by himself.”

Ben lifted both hands. “In my defense, it was Logan's idea to take out the two-master. We were only cleared for the little sunfish, but—”

“Oh now, hold on—”

“I hear boys bickering. Ben Campbell must be back in my house,” Hannah said, grinning widely as she came in through the mudroom door and quickly joined the foursome.

Ben folded Hannah in a quick hug and bussed her cheek before letting her go. “I understand another McCrae has been snatched up off the available list,” he told her. “Who is this Blue guy? Do I need to check him out?”

Hannah elbowed her brother in the ribs, making Logan wince. “Are you kidding me? With the police chief as my brother? I'm pretty sure Logan has everything down to the day and hour of Calder's birth in a file somewhere. There can't be anything left to check.”

Fiona watched the foursome and the ease with which they laughed and fell into that all-too-familiar pattern of bantering and teasing, as Ben caught up with the two McCraes and effortlessly included Alex in the mix. Fiona knew she could walk over there, insert herself into the conversation, but she stayed where she was, observing, telling herself she was perfectly fine just watching the happy reunion, basking in the laughter that was once again filling Pelican Point.

But instead of watching the happy reunion, Fiona turned her attention back to her coat, thinking she was going to get herself out of it even if she had to just cut the damn loops off.

Yep. Ben Campbell was back and it was like nothing had changed.

Ben dug his gloved hands deeper into the fleece-lined pockets of his canvas coat, feeling the cold already chapping his face. “Looks even more impressive up close,” he said, raising his voice a little to be heard over the wind. “Should have gotten over here sooner.”

“It's more than I thought I'd see in my lifetime,” Logan told him, hunching his large frame a little as he too sought to find a bit of refuge from the chilling wind. “It's all Fergus's doing really. He's the one who got Alex out here. The rest I owe to her.”

Ben grinned at him. “So, you got the lighthouse and the girl. I always knew you'd end up the winner.”

Logan tugged open the door at the base of the lighthouse. “I didn't know we were keeping score,” he said, motioning Ben inside.

“Since when?” Ben elbowed him on his way past, then ducked, chuckling as Logan took a mock swipe at his head, just barely missing his favorite wool beanie. “Wow,” he said, as he stared up into the restored lighthouse. “Beyond impressive.”

Logan was looking upward right along with him. “I know. I still can't get over it.” He motioned for Ben to go up the metal stairs that wrapped around and up the interior walls.

Ben kept on past the floor situated midway, all the way to the top. He stepped into the room where the big lens was housed, but opted not to go out to the widow's walk given the winter cold. “How long has it been?” he asked, taking in the stunning, panoramic view of Pelican Bay, the harbor on the other side, and even down the inlet, toward Snowflake Bay. He glanced at Logan. “A dozen years? Damn, more than that. How did we get old? Wasn't it yesterday we were up here, telling ghost ship stories?”

Logan grinned. “I'm pretty sure the last stories we told ourselves had more to do with how to get girls up here than sunken ships.”

Ben's smile remained, but there was a thread of emotion in his voice now, as he said, “Yet another contest you bested me at.” Logan had spent a lot of time up here with Jessica Tate, his first serious girlfriend and eventual fiancée, then never went in the lighthouse again after she died in a boating accident.

“Well, it is my lighthouse,” Logan replied, tone still light, and no past memories clouding his dark-eyed gaze.

“Lucky bastard,” Ben said, thinking Alex had worked miracles on far more than the lighthouse.

Logan turned his gaze from the horizon, a light twinkling in those wild, topaz-colored eyes of his now. Fiona had them, too, though Ben couldn't recall knowing or remembering that until seeing her again today.

“Of course,” Logan said, “the object of your affections also owned this lighthouse and yet you never did get her up here.”

“How can you be so sure?” Ben shot back.

“Because you're still alive.”

Ben hooted out a laugh at that. “Hard to believe she's getting married. Which is dumb, I guess, given it's hard to believe we all waited this long to tie the knot.”

Logan's gaze became a bit more pointed then. “So things with Annalise aren't—”

“No, they aren't,” Ben said flatly, but easily enough. It felt good to be past all the tougher emotions and on to that place where it was just something that had happened in his past. Or getting close to that place, anyway. “And they won't be. It's been over for a long time, longer than I wanted to admit, but we officially broke up almost a year ago.”

“You good?”

Ben half nodded, half shrugged. “I'm good.”

Logan's expression told him what he thought of that half-assed response. “You aren't back here because Hannah's come home, are you?”

“What is it with that?” Ben said, chuckling, sincerely surprised. “No, I'm not here for your sister. Jeez. Fireplug asked me the same thing.” At Logan's wince, he said, “What?” Then thought over what he'd said, and added, “The nickname? Come on, she knows it's out of affection. We were kids, and she knew I was just being a jerkface.” He grinned. “I know this, because she told me so. Often.”

Logan's expression suggested that things hadn't changed much, but what he said was, “That's not what I meant, but it doesn't matter.” At Ben's hoot of laughter, it was his turn to look honestly surprised. “What was that for?”

“Even all this time later, you're so damn relieved I'm not going after your sister. I'm a little insulted here, bro.”

“She's my sister. Hell, she should be like your sister. You grew up here, for God's sake.”

“Well, you've always been like a brother to me, you know that. But I can't lie and pretend that my thoughts of Hannah were ever—”

His words were cut off by Logan snaking his hand out and cuffing an arm around Ben's neck, effectively cutting off his ability to speak. Ben elbowed him and in an instant they were twelve years old again, scuffling about like two bugs in a lobster trap.

Ben waved the white flag first, raising his hands in mock surrender, then sucker punching Logan in the gut as he let him go. He frowned, shaking his hand. “Damn, I thought married life was supposed to make you soft. What are you wearing under that thing, Chief, a bulletproof vest?”

Logan chuckled as they both leaned on the lens housing, each a little winded, faces flushed as much from the horseplay as the freezing temperatures. “So, things in Portsmouth are going okay then? I know I haven't kept up lately. This past year has been a little crazy, but that's no excuse.”

“No explanations needed. I feel bad about not being here for the big day.”

“Is the magazine out yet?”

“Any day now. I haven't seen it yet.” At Logan's raised eyebrows, he added, “The holiday issue is their big deal of the year, so it's kept under wraps. I'll get a stack when it hits the stands.” He grinned. “As long as they make Campbell Landscapes look good, I'm happy.”

Logan grinned. “I'm sure they did you justice. That should put a little knot in Annalise's folks' starchy undershorts, shouldn't it?”

“I couldn't care less what the Mandervilles think about it.” At Logan's raised eyebrows, he let all pretenses fall, wondering why he'd even bothered. He might not have spent much time with his closest childhood friend of late, but his bond with Logan was such that no matter how much time passed between visits, they were family, born and raised, and nothing could ever change that. Any time lapse between them immediately evaporated the moment they were back in the same space. “Okay, so maybe it wouldn't break my heart if her folks saw it and had second thoughts about their daughter slumming it with a glorified groundskeeper.”

“You're hardly that,” Logan said. “But why would they want to clutter their closed minds with actual reality?”

“Exactly. Annalise is with some doctor now.”

“What? When did that happen?”

Ben laughed. “We really have been out of touch way too long. She's been with Dr. Biff Backsley III for almost a year now. Longer actually, as I'm pretty sure they were shacking up before I finally called it quits for good.”

“Biff Backsley? Seriously? Now you're just making shit up.”

Ben spread his arms out and laughed as he shook his head. “My imagination runs more toward creative landscaping solutions. I couldn't make that up if I tried. Oxford undergrad, Harvard Medical School. His family is both old New England money and old actual England money.”

“You seem to know a fair amount about the guy,” Logan said, eyebrow lifted.

“What, like I went and Googled him? Please. Annalise made sure I knew. I'm happy for the guy, truly. Now she can focus on fucking up his head instead.”

Logan chuckled and nodded. “I won't get into the ‘I told you sos' since I gave that up when you got back together after the first time she cheated on you.”

“Yeah, fool me once, shame on her, I know, I know,” he said. “But all the lessons have been learned now. Trust me.”

“So, the Mandervilles won the son-in-law lottery after all,” Logan said. “I wonder if Annalise got a finder's fee.”

Ben laughed at that, happy he was finally at a place in his life that he could truly find it funny. It had taken a good long while, but Annalise was no longer the one who got away. More like the one he was thankful to have lost.

He glanced up to find Logan looking at him again, in that way only brothers or other family could.

“You really are past it, aren't you?” he asked, relief clear on his face.

He nodded. “I won't lie. I wasn't the most fun guy to be around for a good while, but yes, well done and past.”

“Do you and Annalise communicate at all? No chance of things becoming—”

“On again?” Ben shook his head. “None. And that's a very good thing.” And that was all that needed saying.

Logan held his gaze a beat longer, then nodded, accepting the truth of it. “Anybody else on the radar?” Ben shook his head. Logan turned and leaned back on the rail that surrounded the lighthouse lens, folding his arms as he shifted his gaze back to the horizon.

“It's good to be back up here,” Ben said, after a moment of companionable silence. “Puts things in perspective, doesn't it?”

Logan nodded. Another minute passed, and then he said, “So, your folks. What's up with your dad? I'm trying to picture the discussion that ended with him willingly moving south and away from the farm, but I just can't imagine it.”

Ben grinned, even though he wanted to rub at the twinge in his heart. His grip tightened slightly on the rail that surrounded the lens housing. “You can thank my mom for that little miracle. Me, the doctors, we all talked to him until we were blue in the face. She takes him quietly aside and suddenly they're packing up and it's all like it was his idea and what the hell are we sitting around for, can't we see there's packing to be done?”

Logan chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, even from my limited experience, I feel I can say, with a fair amount of authority, wives are like that. And yet, with your dad? I still can't see it.”

They both laughed, and as the sound faded back to comfortable silence, Ben thought about all the changes happening in his parents' lives, and felt that prickle of guilt again, for feeling so burdened by the issues their retirement was creating in his life. He was fortunate to still have a father, to have both his parents. He thought about all the guy sitting beside him had lost, and it made him feel even more ungrateful.

“Your dad going to be okay?” Logan asked quietly.

He started to say yeah, sure, it was all going to be fine, which was what he'd told the countless folks who'd asked after his parents, both in Snowflake Bay and here in the Cove, even in Portsmouth, as many of his friends and employees had met his parents on their visits down to see their only son. But this was Logan, his brother in every way but blood, and not only would he be pissed if Ben was anything other than honest with him, but Ben was grateful there was someone he could talk to about the truth of the matter. “For the time being, yeah.”

Logan glanced over, surprise and concern equally in his eyes. “What's going on?”

Ben paused, took a breath, and said the words he hadn't said out loud to anyone. “He's in the early stages of Parkinson's.”

“Shit.”

“Pretty much.”

Logan put his hand on Ben's shoulder, squeezed hard. “I'm sorry.”

Ben shrugged, but didn't shrug off the support. “It's a thing, you know? Shit happens. We're dealing with it. They're dealing with it. So far, it's not creating a lot of issues. And who knows, maybe now that he's away from the stress and physical demands of the farm, it will progress more slowly and they'll have a lot more time together. I think that was the argument my mother made. Which did he want more time with? The trees, or with her?”

“Smart woman.” Logan pushed away from the rail, turned to look at Ben, leaning back on the glass panes that surrounded the tower room. “How is she holding up? Will she tell you when it's too hard for her, when she needs help? You know if there's anything I can do—your parents were like a second set of parents to me, and there's nothing—”

“I know, man.” Ben looked up at Logan. “I know. And I appreciate it. They do, too. I—for now, it's good. But in time . . . I don't know. I honestly don't know.”

“I'm always here. We all are. Whatever you need.”

Ben stood, and the two men shared a quick, tight hug. “Thanks. Just saying it out loud helps.”

Logan led the way back down the stairs. “What does this all mean for you?” he asked as they reached the bottom.

Ben shook his head. “I'm still not sure. Mom wants me to sell the place, choosing a good buyer, of course, who will carry on the business, and go back to my life.”

“Is it financial? Do they need—?”

“No, they're fine. It's not about money. At least, not at this point, anyway. I think she just doesn't want to burden me. They figured out early on I probably wasn't going to be the one to take over. I think maybe Dad was holding out for a grandchild to come along and maybe . . .” He let that drift off, then smiled, shook his head again. “Not in the cards, I guess.”

“So, are you thinking of selling?”

Ben paused after they reached the base of the lighthouse, before they headed back outside and into the wind. “I honestly don't know. I don't want to. I know, despite what they say, that neither Mom nor Dad wants to see the farm go to someone else, no matter their future plans for it.”

“Can you get someone to run it for you?”

“That's one of the possibilities, yes. It's all—”