A Family Come True

“I know your intentions are good.” She swirled the chip through the salsa again. “But going to Comeback Cove? That seems extreme.”

“What’s so extreme about it? One phone call, a few hours packing, a few more to drive, and there ya go. Instant breathing space. You have time to sort things through, and when we come back, you’ll be ready to do...whatever you decide is right. But you won’t be making it up as you go anymore.”

He had a point. Again.

“I don’t want to upset Cady’s schedule. She’s already wonked with this tooth. I think she needs to stick to familiar places and faces right now.”

“Good point. But you know sometimes a distraction is all she needs to get herself back on track.”

Must he always be right?

“What about work? You’re not off tomorrow, and I’m swamped.”

“Everyone’s out of my office tomorrow anyway. Training. As for you—” his eye roll would have made a teenager proud “—you work from home, remember? Take your laptop with you.”

“And how much will I get done without being able to drop Cady at day care? I know she’s only there part-time, but I get a heck of a lot done in those three hours.”

“Hello? Doting grandmother?”

Damn him. “But...Ian, look. You have a close family. It’s nothing for you to call and say, ‘Hi, Mom. Change of plans. I’m coming home early.’ It’s not like that for me and Nonny.” At least it hadn’t been lately.

“Actually,” he began, but then gave an impatient sort of shake. “Whatever. It was just a suggestion.”

“Wait a minute. Actually what?”

“Nothing that matters right now. You would really rather stay here?”

“Yes, I would rather stay here.” At least, rather than go to Comeback Cove. “What are you hiding?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You’re hiding something and you know it.” About his family? Or was it the ex?

Nonny had alluded to some issue back when she’d called to ask Darcy to rent to him. At that point, Darcy had simply wanted someone to keep the grass cut and the house safe when she was traveling for her job as personal assistant to her mother—something that used to happen a lot, since Sylvie juggled careers as an actress, an author and a coach at the Stratford Festival. All that had mattered at that point was that he be polite, solvent and not inclined toward murder. The fact that he was one of the North brothers—part of the big, noisy crew that had both terrified and fascinated her on her childhood visits to the Cove—had been a happy bonus.

It wasn’t until he’d been around for a while that Nonny had mentioned a broken engagement. It was only in the past few months that Ian himself had said anything about it, and then only an occasional, casual reference—“Taylor and I went there”—the way he would talk about an old friend. Never any details. And try though Darcy might, she had never been able to get Nonny to spill. It was Ian’s story to share, she’d insisted.

Damn her moral code.

He stretched long legs out in front of him. “Sorry, Darce, but when it comes to hiding things you kind of won that round.”

Busted. “Okay. I’m not one to talk. If it matters, I can’t count how many times I was tempted to tell you the truth. About Xander, I mean.”

“I believe you.” He paused. “For the record, I was kind of tweaked that you hadn’t said anything. Not that you owed me or anyone an explanation, but I thought... Anyway, having heard the whole story it makes sense. In your shoes I would have done the same thing.”

“That’s good. I’m glad.” She smiled before pouncing. “So...actually what?”

“Actually, I’d better call my mother and tell her I won’t be coming home for Father’s Day after all.”

“Wait— Who— What?”

He stretched his arms high overhead, reaching toward the robin’s-egg blue of the porch ceiling. “You heard me.”

“You’re not going.”

“That’s right.”

“Because of me?”

“No. Because of Xander.”

“But I told you, he never... I mean, damn it, Ian. I appreciate everything you did today, believe me, but I don’t need a babysitter. This is my mess and I will get through it.”

“I know you will.”

“So?”

“So maybe I want to hang around and see what happens.”

Oh, no. The caveman was supposed to be gone.

“What are you gonna do, Ian? Shadow me for the rest of my life in case Xander catches me all alone?”

“Nope.”

She waited. Nothing else seemed to be forthcoming.

She eyed the beer. Maybe if she shook it up and sprayed him...

“Why are you so determined to do this?”

He shrugged and grabbed the bottle—jeez, it was as if he really could read her mind—and rocked back in his chair. “Honestly? I don’t know. But it feels right.”

“Because you don’t trust Xander? Or— Wait. Do you think I’m dumb enough to get drunk and pregnant again?”

“No!”

The shock on his face reassured her. No one was that good an actor, and, having spent much of her life haunting stages waiting for her mother, she should know.

“Then what’s the problem? Ian, I’m a big girl. I don’t like this situation, but I’ll manage. I know I was a total basket case when I first had Cady, but on the whole, I’m organized, competent and reasonable. I can handle this.”

“I think that’s it.”

“What’s what?”

“I know you can handle this. Alone.” He leaned forward, quietly serious. “But what kind of friend would I be if I made you do that?”

Oh.

She had no comeback for that one. Maybe because it was so unexpected.

Maybe because she couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel that her happiness mattered to them.

“Make you a deal,” she said softly. “You want to be a friend to me? I’m all for that. But it’s about time I returned the favor. See, I have this suspicion that I’m not the only one who’s been dealing with things solo for too long.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means that sometimes you get this look like...” Almost like the way he had looked when she had handed Cady to him and told him she had to talk to Xander. “Like someone just pushed you over a cliff.”

He tipped the chair back. The soft creak of the rocker made her wince and wonder if she had pushed too far.

“Fine,” he said at last. “Since you’re coming with me anyway—”

“If I go with you,” she reminded him, though it was pretty much an auto-response. She wasn’t at all surprised when he waved it away.

“Everything will come out one way or another. You might as well hear it from me.”

He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair and stared out at the road. She gave him the time it took to eat one chip. As soon as it was gone she stretched out her foot and nudged his leg.

“You falling asleep on me, North?”

“Trying to figure out where to start.”

“Well, you know what the song says. Start at the beginning.”

“The very beginning,” he corrected.

“Details, details.” She bit her lip, debated and decided to go for broke. “Is it about Taylor?”

“Yeah.” But the way he drew out his reply told her there was more to it than that. “Okay.” He blew out a short breath as if readying himself for a race. “You know that I spent some time working in Tanzania.”

“Right. A year, right?”

“Not quite. Well, it was just before I came home that Taylor ended things between us.”

“So much for absence making the heart grow fonder,” she said softly.

He grimaced. “In a way that’s what happened. Me being away gave her time to realize that her heart was actually fonder of someone else.”

The word that slipped out of Darcy’s mouth was one she never would have let herself utter in front of Cady.

He shrugged. “It sucked, but it happens. And even though I didn’t think so at the time, we were lucky that she figured it out when she did.”

“You have a strange definition of luck.”

“Hey, lemons, lemonade. It’s over. It’s in the past. It was rough, but then it got better.”

“And yet you still miss her.” Which really shouldn’t bother her as much as it did.

“Actually, I don’t.” He raised a hand before she could give voice to any of the retorts bubbling inside her. “I know. If I’m over her, then what’s the big deal?”

“Thank you for being the one to say it. I don’t think I could have managed without more swearing.”

“Yeah, well, you might want to save the bad words for when they really matter.”

“When they really matter? What could be worse than having your fiancée leave you for someone else?”

“Easy,” he said. “When the someone else is your brother.”

CHAPTER FOUR

THE SILENCE THAT greeted his announcement went on so long that he started to think she might have choked on her chip. When he finally made himself look—because, yeah, he hadn’t wanted to watch her face while he’d said it—he saw that her mouth was hanging open, her hand on her chest.

Maybe he should have eased into it a bit more gently.

“Oh, Ian.”

Her soft whisper hung between them. She probably needed a minute to process it. After all, it had been two years and he was only now able to talk about it.

“I never...” She huffed out a breath that sounded like equal parts disbelief and indignation. “You don’t need to tell me anything else. I shouldn’t have pushed. But, damn, that was a shitty thing to do.”

Maybe it was because he hadn’t talked about it for so long, but despite her assurance that he didn’t have to say anything, he wanted to explain. “Yeah, well, to give them credit, everybody tried their damnedest to keep it from happening. Taylor even moved to get away from Carter.”

“It was Carter?” Her laugh was short and laced with relief. “Oh, jeez. I knew you had gone to Hank’s wedding, and for a minute there, I thought—”

“Good God, Darce. I’m no martyr.”

“Thank heaven for that. So, she moved?”

“Right. He knew she was leaving, and he agreed. Everybody thought they were doing the right thing, splitting up, trying to keep it from ripping the family apart, but then Moxie put things together. From what I hear, she practically had to push Carter onto the plane herself.”

“Wait a minute. They betrayed you, and then your own grandmother— Holy crap.”

Everyone in his family had been a wreck. After all, no matter how it played out, one brother was going to end up hurt. But Darcy was the first one focused solely on him. Hearing the indignation in her voice, seeing the way her usually fluid movements were now tight and choppy—well, it was more of a comfort than he would have expected.

“Moxie was right. Not that I was a big fan of the idea when it happened, but... She said it would be worse if Carter and Taylor tried to pretend nothing had happened. Something about resentments building up.” He shrugged. “It hurt like hell, but she had a point. Once the truth was out we knew what we were dealing with.”

“Well, it must have helped to know that it couldn’t possibly get any crappier.”

“Yeah, there was that.”

She leaned back, arms crossed, watching him. “So if Taylor moved and Carter went after her, why are you living in Stratford now instead of in Comeback Cove, where you could have had the support of your family? How did you end up being the sacrificial lamb?”

“Breathe. It was my idea.”

“So much for your ‘I’m no martyr’ line.” She sat up straighter, eyes flashing. “That sucks. As does your family for letting you go.”

She wasn’t saying anything that he hadn’t thought to himself at some point. Funny, though, how much different it felt coming from her.

“Carter and Taylor said they would leave, but remember, we all worked in the family business. I had to think of what was best for Northstar Dairy, too. I had already been gone for almost a year. Everyone was used to that. It made sense for me to be the one to move. Plus,” he added, just to prove he was no candidate for sainthood, “Comeback Cove is a small town. My choices were to stay and be stared at or let them stay and, well—”

“Be the hottest gossip in decades?”

“That’s about it.”

“Good for you.”

“I’m not sure that I should be congratulated for it,” he said. “But it seemed like the best choice at the time.”

“So you decided to move, and you picked Stratford.”

“More like Helene told Moxie about you needing a tenant, and it was far enough from home that I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew, and I was up for anything that didn’t require me to do a whole lot of thinking.”

“And here I thought you chose it because you wanted to walk the streets where Justin Bieber grew up.”

Ah, the Sass Queen was back.

“So,” she said after a moment. “That explains why you haven’t gone home much since you moved in.”

“Yeah.”

“Once in two years, unless I’ve forgotten something.”

He glanced sideways. “Your point, Darce?”

“Well, I couldn’t help but wonder why you’re going back now.”

The truth sat heavy in his gut. Part of him longed to tell her about the charitable foundation Moxie was adding to the dairy—the foundation she wanted him to lead, if he could handle being home. If Xander hadn’t reappeared he might have said something, but Darcy had had enough shockers for one day.

Besides, nothing was definite. What was the point of worrying her when he wasn’t even sure himself if he could do this?

“It’s time,” he said at last. “I don’t want one piece of my past to take over the rest of my life.”

“Very wise.”

“Plus, it’s Father’s Day, and my mom is throwing a big thing for my dad. I don’t want to hurt him by being the only one of his kids to not show up.”

“Did it ever occur to you that the only reason your mom is doing this is to force you to come home?”

“Of course it is. Ma hates hoopla. You know how she spends Mother’s Day?”

“How?”

“She goes to church, then goes back to bed and spends the whole day there, alone. She reads. She naps. She orders pizza for dinner. It’s been like that since we were kids.”

“Oh, my God, seriously? That sounds like the best Mother’s Day ever. What a smart woman.”

“A smart, overworked woman who needed a break.” Much like the one swaying softly in the hammock across from him.

“Someday I’m going to do that. It sounds like bliss.” Her voice switched from wistful to practical in the space of one quick sigh. “But anyway. You. You think you’re ready for this?”

“It’s been two years.”

“I can do math, North. I didn’t ask you how long it had been. I asked if you’re ready.”

Correction: a smart, overworked, stubborn woman. “I think so.” Especially when sitting on a porch with the setting sun wrapping them in shadows, surrounded by Darcy’s laugh and her fierce concern and—yeah—that damned pink top that dipped a little lower than she probably realized.

Taylor was a very distant memory when he was with Darcy.

“I think I’m ready,” he said. “But there’s only one way to find out for sure.”

“You blacksmiths. Always shoving things into fires.”

“I’m not planning any long heartfelt talks with either Carter or Taylor, if that’s what you mean. I’ll settle for being in the same room without going bat-shit crazy.”

“I’ll pack some of my mom’s happy pills, just in case.”

It took him a second to process her meaning.

“You’re coming with me?”

“Only because I think you’ll need the moral support.” There was a slightly evil cast to her grin that made him feel as though his beer wasn’t sitting well. “And I always thought Carter was a snot-nosed brat who acted like he was better than the rest of you, so I’m going to love being able to mock him silently anytime I see him.”

“Darce—”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll behave. The last thing I want is to make things worse for you.”

“Damn. I was going to tell you that you didn’t have to keep it silent.” He shrugged. “Listen, this is nothing compared to you and Cady, but so you know—the whole reason Xander came back in the first place was because he wanted Lulu.”

“He what?”

“Yep. Something about seeing himself in his new life, walking the straight and narrow with his faithful canine companion at his side.”

“You’re kidding.” For a second the indignant light in her face faded to something more like worry and fear and something else, something that made him want to gather her close and stroke her hair and promise her that everything would be okay.

Lucky for him, the moment passed as quickly as it had appeared.

* * *

NO MATTER HOW much she longed to sleep in the next morning, Darcy pushed her reluctant self out of bed while the sun was just beginning to brighten the sky. If she was going to have herself and Cady ready for a ten-o’clock departure, she needed to take full advantage of the golden hour before her girlie started moving.

She threw laundry into the dryer, fired up her laptop and tossed jars and pouches of baby food into a bag, all while waiting for the coffee to brew. As soon as it was ready she filled her mug and carried it to the porch for what was usually the best fifteen minutes of her morning.

Too bad she had to spend it calling her mother today.

Sylvie was in London this week, meaning it was already late morning for her, meaning there was a decent chance she would be awake. No guarantee, but the odds were high. Darcy couldn’t count how many times in the past year she had given thanks that her own sleep cycle had come from her father instead of her mother.

“Darcy?”

Yep. Mom might technically be awake, but alert and functional were still hours away. If luck was really on Darcy’s side, she could get through this conversation before Sylvie woke up enough to become annoyed.

“’Morning, Mom. How’re you and the queen this fine day?”

“Don’t be an ass, Darcy. You know very well she’s touring Japan this month. Why on earth are you calling at such a teeth-numbing hour?”

“A couple of things. The copy edits for the new book came in yesterday. I’ll have those turned around within the week, and then I’ll send them to you for final approval. If you need me over the next few days, I might be a bit slow in getting back to you because Cady and I are going to Comeback Cove. And I finalized your Sydney itinerary and will send that to you in a few minutes.”

“That all sounds— Wait. You’re going where?”

So much for that great strategy.

“Comeback Cove.”

“For the love of God, why?”

Because my friend needs me. Because I need some breathing room between me and the Amazing Reappearing Biological Daddy. Because the family I idolized when I was a kid has been broken, and I want to help fix it.

Of all the reasons for this trip, there was only one Darcy would even think of sharing with her mother. “Ian was driving up anyway, and Nonny hasn’t seen Cady since right after she was born, so it seemed like good timing.”

“Assuming there’s ever a good time to be bored silly.”

Darcy often wondered what on earth her parents had seen in each other. Sylvie was a mercurial, nightlife-loving actress, while Paul had been a quiet, small-town homebody. Sylvie was all about the next excitement. Paul had been all about the moment. Sylvie loved Darcy in a bemused sort of way, as if she were never quite sure where this child had come from and what she was supposed to do with her. Paul had been a hands-on, deeply invested father.

But Paul was dead. Sylvie was not only alive, but provided a major chunk of Darcy’s hard-earned income. So on many levels it behooved Darcy to keep her mother placated.

“You know how it goes. Sometimes you have to make these sacrifices for the sake of family.”

“I suppose. It was so much easier when your father was alive and I could let him deal with those issues.”

Darcy had been called many things in her life, but she was pretty sure she had never before been an issue.

“Fine, then. Go do what you must. When will you be— Oh. Hold on a second.”

There came the rustling sort of crackle that made Darcy suspect the phone had been relegated to the side of the bed, followed by a lazy “Good morning, Matteo,” and something that sounded way too much like a long and welcoming kiss. Oh, goody. There was nothing as delightful as trying to conduct a conversation with Sylvie when her latest boy toy was in the room. All it took was one studly thing to make an appearance and Sylvie Drummond—sometimes known as the most driven woman on two continents—turned into a rather embarrassing pile of goo.

“Mom? Hello?”

“Oh. Darcy.” The throaty quality to Sylvie’s voice made Darcy want to shove her fingers in her ears and sing la la la, not paying attention. “I thought you had hung up.”

Yep. Testosterone walked in, five hundred brain cells marched out.

“Sorry. I need to confirm some dates with you. Before you get too busy,” she couldn’t help but add.

“Of course. Fire away.”

Darcy rattled off the requests, knowing full well from the faraway mmm-hmms on the other end that her mother’s focus was elsewhere. Sure enough, as soon as she paused, Sylvie pounced.

“You know, dear, why don’t you email all that to me? I’ll go over it later.”

Later, as in sometime when Matteo wasn’t around.

It had been this way for almost as long as Darcy could remember. It seemed like mere weeks between the time Paul died and the parade of new friends/uncles/possible new daddies had begun. As an adult, Darcy could look back and see that, yes, Sylvie had gone quite a while without adult companionship, and, yes, it was rather pathetic that she became so dependent on them so quickly. Most of the time Darcy rolled her eyes and gave thanks that she was no longer young enough to have to tag along when Sylvie decided to follow her latest love. Seeing the world was fine and dandy, but Darcy had inherited her father’s love of home. She was quite happy to spend her days in her snug little house, just her and Cady. And, usually, Ian. Who had turned out to deliver the kind of kiss that left her wishing it had gone on just a little longer—

Oh, no. Inheriting Sylvie’s hair and eyes was one thing. Inheriting her man-induced dizziness was quite another.

“Okay. I’ll email you. Better run, Cady’s waking up,” she lied. “Say hi to Matteo for me. I’ll talk to you next week.”

She ended the call quickly in case any rogue Sylvie genes were being activated by the contact, distant though it might be.

“At least that’s behind me,” she said to the robins perched in the crab apple tree next to the porch. They didn’t seem remotely impressed with her amazing strength and fortitude.

Though maybe that was because they were mind readers who knew that while a part of her was busy shaking her head over Sylvie, another part was reliving that quick kiss with Ian and wondering about the justice of a world where a grandmother was seeing more action than her daughter ever had.

* * *

SOMEWHERE IN THE TALK of Darcy coming along on this trip, Ian had forgotten one major point: the actual car ride.

He gripped the steering wheel and tore his focus from the traffic in front of him to do one of the status checks that had become routine after three-plus hours on the road. Cady: snoozing in her car seat. Lulu: probably asleep in her crate, if the blessed lack of yipping was any indication. And Darcy: swaying in the passenger seat, singing softly to whatever was coming out of the laptop perched on her knee. In denim shorts and headphones she looked more like a college student than a hardworking mother.

For the first time he wondered if talking her into coming along might have been a mistake. Being so close to her in the car was stirring up a crap-load of feelings, most of them pertaining to that stupid kiss. How was he supposed to prepare himself for a seriously awkward family reunion when his eyes kept drifting away from the road and over to where her shorts exposed a whole lot of leg? Long, slightly tan, totally toned leg.