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

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СКАЧАТЬ how your family stays so thin if they eat like that every night.” Luke patted his flat stomach. “One more of those buttermilk biscuits, and you’d have to roll me away from the table.”

      “They don’t sit in an office all day.”

      He grinned, and the unexpectedly relaxed expression fluttered her heart once more. “Touché. I’ll have to remember that.” He glanced around the large room. “But the inn doesn’t seem to have any guests right now.”

      “This is Gran’s birthday weekend. They don’t take reservations this weekend, so the whole family can celebrate.”

      “They turn away paying customers?” He seemed to imagine an entire row of Dalton Resorts executives, all frowning at such folly.

      “They put Gran first, that’s all.” The defensiveness in her tone surprised her. “The Dolphin Inn isn’t a Dalton Resort.”

      “Obviously not.” His lifted eyebrow spoke volumes. “Anyway, this isn’t a busy time. We don’t start getting a lot of guests until Easter weekend.” It had never occurred to her to wonder why the inn wasn’t more successful than it was. We make enough to get by, Daddy always said. She shouldn’t have to defend her family’s values, but that seemed to be what she was doing.

      “I can understand why, if you close down for a birthday party.”

      She came perilously close to losing her temper with him. “If you—”

      “Gran’s here,” Miranda called from the porch.

      Every other thought flew from Chloe’s mind, and she raced out the door. Gran marched up the shell path. Chloe met her halfway, to be wrapped in arms still as strong as ever. Gran’s familiar lily-of-the-valley scent enveloped her.

      “Gran, it’s so good to see you.” She pressed her cheek against her grandmother’s.

      Gran held her back a little, putting her palms on Chloe’s cheeks. Her gaze was every bit as laser-like, in its way, as Luke’s.

      “’Bout time you were getting home, child. Where’s this young man of yours?”

      “I’m right here—”

      She spun at the sound of Luke’s voice, smooth as cream, behind her. He held out his hand to Gran.

      “I’m Luke Hunter, Mrs. Caldwell.”

      Gran focused on him. Every one of Chloe’s nerve endings stood at attention. How had she ever thought she’d get away with this? Why had she let Luke maneuver her into it? Gran’s wise old eyes saw everything. They’d see through this.

      But Luke seemed to be standing up well to that fierce inspection. After a moment, he asked, “Will I do?”

      “Guess it’ll take a bit of time to decide that.” Gran looked him up and down. “You look a little fitter than I figured, for a city fellow.”

      “So do you. I expected someone a lot more frail.”

      He shot a challenging glance toward Chloe, and she felt herself shrivel. If he told Gran what she’d said, she’d never live it down.

      “Chloe must be fibbing about the number of candles on your cake.”

      Gran gave a little snort that might have been a chuckle, and then nodded shortly. “Might as well call me ‘Gran.’ Everyone else does.” She took Luke’s arm. “Let’s go set on the porch a spell.”

      Chloe, following them, discovered she could breathe again. But she couldn’t fool herself that happy state would last for long. She should never have let Luke talk her into this. She just should have told them all the truth and found some way to live with the disappointment in their eyes.

      Gran settled in her favorite rocker. The others filtered out of the house to receive Gran’s kiss and find a place to sit. Nothing they had to do was so pressing that they couldn’t enjoy the warm spring evening.

      Chloe perched on the rail, and little Sammy hopped up to lean against her. Gran motioned Luke to the seat next to hers, and Chloe felt as if she were waiting for disaster to strike. Surely, sooner or later, Luke would falter, and someone would realize he was playing a part.

      But Luke seemed content to lean back in his rocker, his gaze moving from one member of her family to another, letting them do the talking. What did he think of them? It shouldn’t matter to her, but it did. And what did they think of him?

      She took a breath, inhaling the sweet scent of the azalea bushes around the porch. It mingled with the salty scent of the water. Home. If she’d been plopped here blindfolded, she’d know in an instant where she was, just by the smell.

      She glanced around at the familiar faces, and love welled in her heart. She wanted to tell them the truth. She didn’t want to hurt Gran. She didn’t want them to be disappointed in her.

      Please, God. She wasn’t sure what to say. Please. I don’t want to hurt them. Please just let me get away without hurting them.

      She probably should be praying for the courage to tell the truth and be done with it, but somehow she couldn’t. In a long line of brave Caldwell women, she must be the one exception.

      Sammy wiggled against her. “Gran, tell the Chloe story, please?”

      Her breath caught. That was one story she’d rather Luke didn’t hear, especially now. “Sammy, you must have heard that story a hundred times, at least.”

      He grinned up at her. Sammy’s heart-shaped face came straight from Miranda, but those dark eyes of his were just like his father’s, and just as apt to break hearts.

      “But I love that story, Aunt Chloe. Don’t you?”

      “’Course she does,” Gran said. “She’s that Chloe’s namesake, isn’t she?” She glanced around.

      Daniel groaned. “Have a heart, Gran. Sammy might just have heard it a hundred times, but I’ve heard it a thousand.”

      “Won’t hurt you to listen again,” she said tartly. “You might learn something.” She turned her chair so that it faced Luke’s. “Chloe’s beau ought to hear it, anyway.”

      Chloe sent a helpless glance toward Luke. He leaned forward, smiling at her grandmother. “I’d love to.”

      “Well, it’s this way.” Gran half closed her eyes, as if she saw the story unrolling in her mind. “Years and years ago, before there was a Caldwell Cove, a girl lived here on the island. Her name was Chloe. A wild creature, she was. Folks said she talked to the gulls and swam with the dolphins.”

      Sammy slid off the railing and went to lean against Gran’s knee. “Wasn’t she afraid?”

      “Not she. She wasn’t afraid of anything.”

      Completely unlike the modern-day Chloe. The thought inserted itself in Chloe’s mind and clung like a barnacle.

      “One night there was a storm. Not an ordinary storm, no. This was the mother and father of all storms. It swept ships from their courses and snapped the tallest pines СКАЧАТЬ