Marta Perry - Hunter's Bride and A Mother's Wish

It didn’t seem to work. He glanced sideways at Chloe. She wasn’t really that different here than she was in Chicago, was she? Maybe not outwardly, but inwardly…He felt as if he’d opened an ordinary-looking package and discovered something rich and mysterious.

He couldn’t erase the sense that she’d introduced him to a new world, a world where family meant something other than a collection of strangers held together by law. Those moments in the cemetery had moved him in a way he’d never experienced, and he didn’t know what to do with those feelings.

He’d like to categorize this whole visit as an expedition into the sticks. It could be an amusing story—something to entertain his acquaintances at the next cocktail party or gallery opening. He tried to picture himself talking about Chloe’s family and their quaint customs. He knew instinctively that he never would.

Okay, he’d accept that. But he’d also accept the fact that none of this fit into his real life—not Chloe, not her family. He didn’t understand them, and they’d certainly never understand what he came from. He had to get things back to business, and he definitely had to trample the insidious longing to share more of himself with Chloe.

“Looks as if your father’s just coming in.” He drew up opposite the dock and watched Chloe’s father jockey his boat into position.

Chloe was out of the car before he could go around and open her door. “Come on. We’ll give him a hand.”

She jogged onto the dock, and he followed reluctantly. The water was higher than it had been the last time—meaning the tide was coming in, he supposed. Waves slapped against the wooden boards, making them vibrate uneasily beneath his feet. The salt air assaulted his nostrils, and the expanse of sky made him feel vulnerable and exposed.

He didn’t have to like it here. He just had to look at it through a businessman’s eyes, so he could make the right deal.

“Hey, Daddy.” Chloe grasped one of the dock supports and leaned out to take the line her father held, then made it fast. “Any luck this morning?”

“Nothing running.” Clayton Caldwell cut the engine. “If we depended on my fishing to put food on the table, our bellies would be bumping our backbones—”

He glanced at Luke, and Luke read reserve in those clear eyes. Clayton hadn’t decided what to make of him yet.

“Hop down and secure that aft line, Luke.”

The small boat bounced, bumping against the dock, and Luke’s stomach bounced with it. Hop down? He didn’t think so. But saying no would declare him either a rotten guest or a wimp, and he didn’t like either of those alternatives. Steeling himself, he took a step forward.

Chloe nipped in front of him and stepped nimbly down into the boat. “I’ll get it, Daddy.” She grabbed the line and looped it around the upright. “Have to show you I haven’t forgotten how.”

“I didn’t think that, Chloe-girl.” Clayton stepped easily up to the dock, then leaned down and pulled Chloe up next to him.

The man must be close to sixty, but his muscles seemed as hard as those of any bodybuilder. Clayton’s level gaze rested on him, and Luke discovered he felt smaller under that calm stare. He didn’t like it.

Chloe hugged her father, pressing her face against the older man’s white T-shirt. “You’ve been saying the same thing about the fishing ever since I can remember. We haven’t gone hungry yet.”

Her father squeezed her, then released her. “Must be about lunchtime. You two coming?”

“We’ll be along in a minute.” Chloe leaned against the railing as if the dock’s movement was as common as the ascent of an elevator. She waited until her father was halfway up the crushed shell walk, then turned to him.

“Are you all right?”

“Of course I’m all right.” He didn’t sound authoritative, just irritable. But he didn’t care for the way Chloe looked at him—as if he needed her pity. “Let’s go.”

Chloe caught his arm, and her fingers were cool on sun-warmed skin. “You’re afraid of the water, aren’t you?”

“What makes you say that?” He gave her a look designed to prevent any further questions.

She smiled. “Well, it might be the way you gripped the seat when we were out with David and Sammy. Or the way you turned white when my daddy asked you to hop down on the boat. Don’t you know how to swim?”

“Everyone knows how to swim.” He’d forced himself to learn in college, when he’d realized that ability was taken for granted by his classmates. “I’ve just never liked it, that’s all. Let’s go up to lunch.”

Her fingers tightened. “I’m sorry. This is a bad place to be if you’re afraid of the water.”

“I’m not afraid,” he snapped. It was none of Chloe’s business, anyway. What right did she have to push him? Maybe she’d be the one telling stories about this trip to amuse her friends—how the big corporate executive was afraid of a little water.

She shrugged. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I just thought since you’re here, maybe you’d like to try and get over it.”

He forced himself to look at her. He didn’t see amusement in her eyes, just concern, maybe friendship. He grimaced. “Have you been taking psychology lessons in your spare time, Chloe?”

Her smile sparkled like sunlight on the waves. “No. But as long as we have to stay for a week…”

She let that sentence trail off, but the challenge in her gaze reminded him that he was pushing her to do something she didn’t want to do. It dared him to do the same.

“All right.” He pushed away from the dock railing. “I guess you have a deal. Now can we go?”

She nodded demurely. “Of course.” She led the way off the dock.

He should feel better once he was back on solid ground, following Chloe toward the porch. He should, but he didn’t. Oh, it wasn’t the business of getting over his fear. He could suck it up and pretend, if he had to.

What bothered him was considerably more personal. It was the realization that he’d just shown Chloe a piece of himself. It was a piece he always kept hidden, along with anything else that might make him vulnerable. He wasn’t sure how Chloe had come far enough into his inner life to see it. Or how he’d ever get her out again.

“Are you ready?” Chloe stood knee-deep in the shallows of the sound, steadying the kayak with her hand. The afternoon sun was hot on her shoulders. Later in the summer the water would reach the temperature of a warm bath, but now it felt pleasantly cool. They’d spent the past two days ostensibly sight-seeing while Luke looked at possible hotel sites, but she’d finally gotten him to make good on his promise.

She watched Luke’s face as he looked from her to the softly rocking two-person craft. He’d obviously clamped down hard on his feelings. This was the face he wore when he met a challenge in the business arena—impassive, determined, aggressive. If he felt any fear, he certainly didn’t intend to show it to her.

“You’re sure you know how to operate one of these things?” Luke raised straight black brows and prodded the kayak.

“Daniel and David had me out in one before I went to kindergarten.” She braced it with both hands. “Climb in and get the feel of it. We’ll stay where we can stand up, I promise.”

And where no one would see them. She didn’t say that out loud, but she knew it was in his thoughts. Luke would never want anyone to see him doing something he didn’t do well. But she also knew that if he once started something, he wouldn’t quit until he had mastered it.

He grasped the side of the kayak. “Okay, Chloe. I’m going to trust you. But if you dunk me, I’ll take it out of your salary.” He climbed in gingerly, and she handed him a paddle.